seafaring stories

Quote:

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Originally Posted by j.sabourn

Remember the ships cappy. Take care John Sabourn.

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yes john remember the the drifters with one sail used to hire a rowboat from donnelys and row over with mates to the fish keyand climb on the beams under neath to get spilled fish as much as you wanted then row back over to the ferry landing and sellit to the dockys as they came over from smiths and out of brighamsdid bunk from school when the fishing boats came in to make a copper or two
remember the jupiter but only 2 runciman masters hogg no problem and roberts pain in the ass waslast in fremantle in 88there was ahulk of an old sailing ship with nice lines did some research found it was named samuel plimsol suppose its gone now regards cappy from shields

Here it is,....................
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Start Of The Adelaide Star Voyage..
Names have been changed to avoid embarrassment of some characters in the story. Family may be reading.
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After the voyage on the Dunedin Star, Tom and I went to the Pool and he got the Apapa to West Africa and I went on the Valdivia, one of Mac Andrews running down the Spanish coasts for oranges and barrels of wine., a good little job.
During this time the girls in Melbourne had been writing to us begging us to come back to Australia to see them.
I saw Tom and we went to the Pool again and got the Adelaide Star, which was loading for the Australian coast including Melbourne.
She was a big floating workhouse, seven hatches, 26 derricks and a hard case Bosun, .the bastard, but our lust for the girls was far greater than any hardships this ship could throw at us.
We sailed from Liverpool on Friday 26th of April 1957 bound for Adelaide and four days later we called in at Tenerife in the Canary Islands for fuel and fresh water for the long trip around the Cape and the Southern Ocean to Adelaide, arriving there on Wednesday 29th of May, a long trip at sea, after overhauling all the running gear on the derricks.
Tom and I shaved showered and shampooed and leaped ashore to sample the delights of Adelaide after being at sea for nearly five weeks.
We went into a couple of bars and met two very attractive young Nurses. We took them home and after trying unsuccessfully to get a leg over, we kissed them good bye and left them. The following night I had to go see my uncle who lived in Largs Bay and sit in with them while they had a prayer meeting and singing hymns while Aunty played the organ, They were Missionaries and were anti everything, I was glad to get away. I had done my duty.
On Friday we sailed through Port Philip Heads and into Geelong. We just stayed there for the weekend before sailing up the Bay to Melbourne. So we had a few bevies in a couple of local pubs. While we were there I phoned Shiela to tell her we would be seeing them on Tuesday. “No you wont” said Shiela “my new fiancé who is a TV
Executive wouldn’t like it”. “The bastard”, I said, “we are doing a five month voyage on this big floating workhouse just to see you and some Ozzy Puff wont like it, and what about Tom and Anita”? “The same there” she replied “and don’t call my fiancé an Ozzy Puff, Anita is going out with another man from the TV Studios so tell him she doesn’t want to know,. Bye Bye” then she hung up.
I could never understand these girls, we were the most handsome, good looking lads on the Australian Coast and they kicked us into touch.
Never mind it was their loss and we had been kicked into touch by better looking girls than them.
We moored up in Melbourne Tuesday 4th of June and stayed until the following Saturday. We just did the round of pubs from The Sir Charles Hotham up Flinders Street to Swansons, said cheers to Cloe` in the Young & Jacksons, and had a few dances in the Seamens Mission. Took a girl home to Frankston but without success, good girls were those Mission Girls. What is the matter with those girls, don’t they know a good thing when they see one? Our success rate was abysmal.
On Saturday we cast off and sailed down Port Philip Bay round Wilsons Promontory and up to Sydney, Maybe we would have more luck with the Sydney girls than we were having so far. But we didn’t know what was in store for us there.
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SYDNEY,,,,,,,,,,,
On Monday. 11th of June 1957 we sailed through the Sydney Heads and Harbour, under the Bridge and made fast at the piers on Millers point.
That evening, Tom and I cruised into a bar in Kings Cross which was the liveliest part of Sydney.
Whilst ordering a couple of beers we noticed a pair of attractive young ladies sat at a table.
“Look at them” said Tom, “I wouldn’t mind getting a grip on one of those” , “Come on, lets tap them up” I replied. Tom moved over to the table, “G`day, Shielas, ya fancy a bevy?” he said, as smooth as a bucket of crap.
“ Yers “ said one, “we`ll have a couple of sherries”. “ I think we`ve cracked here , Tom, I`ll go and get the Sherries”. After the usual banter of introductions the girls said they were waiting for a couple of fellas to come in and take them to a party and that we could go as well. “Great “ I said, “ I`ll go and get a few Carry outs to take with us.” “No need” said the girls, “there will be plenty of grog there”.
Just then, two big guys walked in, stood by the table and said to the girls, ”OK lets go”
Great , I stood up and finished my beer and standing up, I noticed the two had burst into tears, “What`s the matter with you two” I said, “They are Cops” one cried as I felt my arms being pulled back and handcuffs being snapped on my wrists. Tom was getting the same treatment, “Hey let go you bastards” I shouted, “We are Pommies, “ “Get outside” the big guy said as he punched me in the Kidneys, Arrgh. the pain.
“Get in the wagon”.
Outside the bar was a Police Van and several Police cars, the bar was surrounded by Cops. After a violent struggle, more thumps and shouts of abuse the four of us were flung into the back of the wagon and locked in.
We arrived at a Police Station and dragged in protesting, We were separated and then questioned by the big Sergeant . I repeatedly told them I was a Seaman off the Adelaide Star and had only just come ashore and met the girls.
“ Yeah, I`ve heard it all before” the Sergeant said, “ You`re a right pair of villains”
He said we would be charged with armed robbery and would be lucky if we got less than ten years.. I was panicking by now, “Go and see the Captain off our ship, and he will identify us” but he took no notice, They threw Tom an me into a cell and the two girls into the next one. We shouted, “Put us all in the same cell, then we can have some fun while we are waiting.
“Shut up you bastards, or I will come in there and shut you up” said the Sergeant.
I looked at Tom, and said, “ This another fine mess you have gotten me into, I `ve only had half a glass of beer and now I`m facing a ten year stretch.”
We stretched out on the dirty mattresses in the darkness, cursing the stupid Aussie Cops and eventually laughing at the daft situation we were in,
We made up a Calypso song to the tune of `Maryanne` and we lay there singing.
“All day, all night, in Sydney Gaol
For getting bevied on the ale,
When our ship is ready to sail,
The Captain will come
And pay for our bail.”……….
“This is your last and final warning you bastards”. shouted the Sergeant, “Shut up”

Next morning, Tuesday, we were taken out of the Cell and questioned again. The Captain on our ship was contacted and he confirmed who we were but would not sign for us until Thursday morning. We were going mad about this, all our stay in Sydney locked up.
The big Sergeant said, “Tough, its your own fault, We had a stake out on that Bar,
we heard there was a couple of villains going in there to meet the two girls. We were watching and had the Bar surrounded. when we saw you two go in and sit with them we thought you were the two wanted men so you were arrested. Mean while the two villains must have seen the Police activity and then disappeared.”
The Cops were very angry that we had ruined their stake out.
So to make us pay for this we had to stay in until the Captain came and signed us out.
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When we arrived back on board all hands were on deck laughing and cheering, they had heard all about it. The Captain then proceeded to log us three days wages for being adrift bastard, sometimes you just cant win.
Later that afternoon, Yarpy, who was a very wealthy South African lad, whos father had sent him to travel around the world to make a man of him, invited Tom and me to go with him to Coogee Bay.
We said we had no money, no problem, he said he was loaded. so that was OK by us, if he wanted to treat us we were quite happy to let him. We got the bus over to Coogee, quite a nice little Bay with a good beach as good as Bondi`s which was just to the north in the next bay. At the south end of the Bay was the Coogee Bay Hotel , a large very Posh hotel out of our class. Yarpy said “ Come on in, I will treat you to the finest dinner you will ever have in your lives”.
We went in, had a beer at the bar while Yarpy ordered a table for dinner. The Matre D came out and told us the table was ready and lead us into this very posh dining room. with us feeling out of place in there. A bit different than the crew mess room.
Yarpy was superb ordering from a French Menu and knew exactly which expensive wines to choose from the Sommeliere. “How are you going to pay for all this “ we asked him as we finished a superb dinner and on our fourth bottle of very expensive wine. “Now you two just wander to the wash room, go through the back door and then leg it down the beach. I am about to order another bottle of their fine wine.
We got out of the hotel at the back and legged it down the beach and waited.
A few minutes later we were followed by Yarpy running down the beach towards us.
“Quick you two get down to the bus and lets get out of here before we are caught.We ran down a side street and leaped aboard a bus for Sydney just as it was pulling out.
“ Jeez, Yarpy, whats happening” we said.
“We have just had the finest dinner and wine on the house, I ran out as the waiter was going for another bottle of wine” he laughed, “I do it all the time”,
“You crazy bastard, you are going to get us back in gaol again, but it was a good dinner.”
The bus took us all the way to Circular Quay where we jumped off and walked up to the Lord Nelson in the Rocks near to the ship and had a few more beers with the rest of the lads off the ship while we told them of the story of our dinner.
Next morning we battened down, dropped the derricks and then sailed out of Sydney Harbour bound for Brisbane.



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Meanwhile, Fleetwood and Jerry had had a couple of girls on board while we were in the gaol, they wanted to go to Brisbane so they sailed with us. They stowed them away in their cabins. They came in useful as well as servicing the two lads they also did our dhobying and scrubbing out the cabins.
They were dressed in their Dungarees and check shirts and seaboots so that if they were seen from the bridge they would look like sailors.
I was on the bridge on Saturday afternoon and I heard the Captain say to the Mate, it was about time the Sailors got their hair cut. I looked down aft and the two girls were on the poop with their hair blowing in the wind. I nearly fell over the wing of the bridge.
We sailed up the Brisbane River and moored alongside New Farm Wharf.

Whilst we were alongside at New Farm Wharf on the Brisbane River loading dairy produce for Europe all hands were over the side painting on stages. There were six stages around the bow, each with two men on painting the white and black on the ship’s side and in the water two more sailors were in the punt painting the boot topping red.
After a liquid lunch in the alehouse outside the dock gate we climbed over the side again and slid down the gantlines onto the stages to the abuse of big Mac the Bosun, who was a bastard at the best of times
The crowd were laughing, singing and hurling abuse back at the Bosun.
After about an hour of swinging around and clowning about on the stages Paddy Duggan fell off his stage, he fell about 5 metres head first into the punt and then bounced into the river, sank and then disappeared.
The laughter suddenly stopped when we realised what had happened, I dived off the stage into the river followed by Tom then the other ten sailors jumped off their stages into the water.
There was nothing but mayhem then, two of the sailors could not swim and they were splashing about shouting for help. The water was covered with red, black and white paint and so was everyone in the water
I dived below the surface and could just see a dark shape fading away as Paddy was slowly sinking and moving away with the current. I grabbed his arm and got to the surface and with Tom’s help we towed him back to the punt. By this time all hands were clinging to the side of the punt, all of them were covered with red, black and white paint. This would have been hilarious if situation hadn’t been so serious.
With a lot of difficulty we dragged Paddy into the punt, there was a big gash on the side of his head and he was unconscious. The sailor who was standby man on deck lowered a rope ladder down to us and the sailors climbed up on deck, they had soon sobered up by now.
They swung the derrick over the side and lowered down the cargo runner to the punt, we shackled on the sling and heaved away, lifting the punt with Paddy in it and then landed it on deck.
By this time the Mate came running up the fore deck to see what the commotion was about.
When he saw Paddy lying unconscious on the deck he just said “ It serves you right you bastards for going ashore on the ale, now take Paddy down to the ship’s hospital” This was only a spare cabin on the starboard side amidships. Tom, Jerry, Fleetwood and I carried Paddy aft and laid him on the mattress in the spare cabin.
The Mate said, “Now get back over the wall and carry on painting, I’ll sort Paddy out.”

We carried on painting over the side until 5pm without any more mishaps, then we dashed down aft to the poop to wash ourselves down with paraffin to remove the paint, then shaved, showered and shampooed ready for going ashore after tea. During this time we thought that Paddy was being looked after by the Mate or Chief Steward.
At 7pm Tom and I were going ashore to the Grand Central Hotel in Brisbane and as we were walking along the starboard alleyway to the gangway I just happened to look through the porthole of the spare cabin and was horrified to see that Paddy was lying there just as we left him 5 hours before, in wet clothes and still covered in blood and paint
I shouted to Tom “Go and get that bastard Mate”. I went into the cabin to see Paddy. He was lying still and I thought he was dead. The paint had dried on him and the dried blood had matted his hair. His face was an odd colour like a greeny white and his body was cold. I shook him and he gurgled a little and was barely breathing.
The Second Mate came in with Tom, I shouted “Why has this man been left like this”, the Second Mate said “He will be alright when he sobers up, we don’t have time to look after you drunken seamen, we are busy decorating the saloon for the nurses party tonight”.
I went berserk then “ This man is dying and you are too busy organising a party” and with that I thumped him and then he fell on top of Paddy across the bunk. I never liked him anyway, and then I dived on top of him
“You bastard” I shouted while shaking him and bouncing up and down on Paddy’s body. Whilst doing this I noticed foam and bubbles coming out of Paddy’s mouth.
Next I felt a thump on the back of my head and the Mate jumped on my back with his arms around my neck trying to pull me off the Second Mate. Tom jumped on the Mate and dragged him off me. After a lot of shouting we all calmed down a bit. Tom went to telephone for a doctor and an ambulance while I got some blankets to cover Paddy to try to keep him warm.
The Second Mate went to get the Captain and when he turned up and found that Tom and I had thumped the Mates he was threatening to log us, flog us and to get the police to arrest us for assaulting his Officers.
A few minutes later the ambulance arrived with a doctor and two policemen.
When the doctor saw Paddy he was shocked, “How long has this man been in this condition without treatment”
“About six hours “ Tom replied. “ My God Captain, if this man dies you will have a lot to answer for”.
The Captain and the Mate were trying to get the police to arrest Tom and me for assault, but the police advised them to keep a low profile for if Paddy died they could possibly face more serious charges themselves.
The gangway was too high and too steep to carry Paddy`s stretcher down so Tom and I with some of the other sailors rigged the derrick and shackled on a cargo pallet.
We placed Paddy’s stretcher on the pallet and Tom, climbed on to hold him steady while we heaved them up and over the side and onto the jetty. The ambulance then sped off with a police escort and took Paddy to hospital.
We went down aft again to get cleaned up and then continued ashore to the Grand Central Hotel to enjoy another night in Brisbane before we sailed next morning to Bowen on Saturday June 20th.
Next day just before we sailed I phoned the hospital and was shocked to hear that Paddy was in the intensivecare unit. He had a fractured skull with several stitches in his head, a broken arm, a dislocated shoulder and pneumonia , he was very lucky to be still alive. If he had been left any longer he would have surely died.
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I never saw Paddy again until 23 years later in June1980. I was in Liverpool sitting for my Masters Certificate on Derby Square in Liverpool, when I called into the `Mona` now renamed `The Liverpool` on James Street and there was Paddy sat at a table.
It was a great surprise to us both and over a couple of pints we reminisced over the years and I told him the story of what had happened. He said he was in hospital for three months and was then repatriated back to England

M.V. ADELAIDE STAR, BOWEN, QUEENSLAND, 1957.

On Saturday the 22nd of June, we arrived in Bowen, a sleepy little town by the Great Barrier Reef.
Just a few wooden buildings, a couple of pubs with batwing doors and in the dock two wooden piers
for the ships to moor along side.
We moored alongside the North pier and as we were making fast a Haine`s boat, the `Trevethoe`,
arrived to berth alongside the South pier.
After topping derricks and stripping hatches for the Wharfies that morning I finished work and turned
in for a couple of hours as it was my turn to be night watchman whilst we were alongside in Bowen.
At 3pm I got up, shaved, showered and shampooed and went ashore to have a look around town and
maybe have a couple of cool beers before going on watch at 6pm. Tom said he would catch up with
me later when they had finished working.
I called in the pub and ordered a beer and looking around I noticed that the crowd off the `Trevethoe`
were in there gulping ale down. I recognised one sailor from Liverpool who I had sailed with on the
old `Franconia` the year before and soon we were knocking them back, swapping yarns. Tom turned
up at about 4pm with the rest of our crowd off our ship they filled the bar and were attempting to drink
it dry.
At 6pm I told Tmy that I was going back to the ship just as the lethal mix of Scousers, Glaswegians,
Cockneys, Aussies and ale began to ferment and suddenly the pub exploded into a big battle.
Men were thrown through windows; the doors were ripped off as the battle poured into the street
sweeping everyone before it. Just at that moment a Salvation Army band were marching past playing
“Come and join us “. If `John the Baptist` off the Dunedin Star had been there he would have been
marching with them.
As the fight crashed through them they screamed and dropped their instruments and fled in terror.
Some of the lunatics picked up the drums and bugles and were marching up and down the main street
making a terrible noise. The battle, which must have had thirty or forty men involved, carried on down
the street, some cars were turned over, windows were smashed and the local people were terrorised.
Tom and I came out of the pub and couldn’t believe the mayhem that was going on.
We tried to get down the street towards the dock to get back aboard the ship to safety and so that I could
go on watch, when a policeman ran around the corner jumped on me, knocked me to the ground and
handcuffed me. Tom who was ahead of me didn’t see what was happening and carried on running back
to the ship. The policeman dragged me round the corner and into the police station and threw me into
a cell.
I shouted that I had nothing to do with the fighting so he came back into the cell and thumped me again.
There was only one cell, which soon began to fill up as the only two or three police in town pulled the
men in from of the street. I could hear the cop phoning for the state troopers in Townsville and Mackay
to fly in to help sort out the rest of the lunatics.
By this time the only cell was bursting and as the door opened again to squeeze another one in everyone
rushed out knocking down one policeman and as we ran through the office to get to the street the other
cop was swinging into us with his truncheon. As I got past him he hit me in the face just under my right
eye cutting my cheek. I kept on running down to the pier and the ship. It was about 7pm when I arrived
back and I walked along the pier casually to all the bollards where our mooring lines were as if I was
inspecting the moorings, which was part of my job as watchman, just in case the Mate was watching to
see were I was.
As I walked along the pier I came across a big Abbo who was sat on the end of the pier fishing. I spoke
to him for a few minutes and looked at the fish that he had caught. I bade him good night and went back
on board.
I staggered down to our cabin, Tom said “ Kinnell, what happened to you” so I told him what had
happened and how I escaped from gaol. I hadn’t been missed so I went and had a shower and bathed
my cut cheek, changed into my working gear then had a coffee in the mess room with Tom
Then some of the lads who had escaped were arriving onboard. They said some of the lunatics were still rampaging around town and fighting all comers. They were all turning in and locking their doors in case the police or the crowd off the `Trevethoe` came on board. I finished my coffee and then patrolled the deck to make sure everything was ship shape for the night.
When I got to number 4 hatch amidships, I noticed that the derrick preventer wire was hanging over the side.[This is a wire rope from the derrick head down to the deck and made fast for extra security when the derrick is being used for cargo work] I fed the end through the panama lead and intended to heave it tight and then make it fast to the bitts, but the wire was badly kinked and it was like a coiled spring.
As I heaved on it the kinks got fast on the lead and then suddenly sprang out and the wire hit me in the
face right on the cut where the cop had hit me. I staggered back and clutched my face with my oily hands, the pain was terrible. By this time I was feeling really bad, my face and head were hurting so as everything was quiet I went down aft to my cabin and lay down to have a little rest.
I must have fallen asleep, the next thing that I knew was the Mate was dragging me off my bunk and
hurling abuse at me and accusing me of sleeping on watch.
I explained that I had been hit in the face by the preventer wire and nearly knocked unconscious. There
was blood and grease on my right cheek and my right eye was swelling up and nearly closed, so he
reluctantly accepted this.
The reason why he was shouting was that I had not seen a big Abbo come on board who was now in the
Mate`s cabin and wrecking the joint.
I went amidships with him and from the outside alleyway we looked through the window and saw that it
was the same Abbo that I had spoken to earlier in the evening who was fishing.
The Mate said go in there and throw him out and put him ashore. I said, “ No way, that guy is three times bigger than me, he’ll kill me, anyway it’s your cabin that he’s smashing up not mine.”
The Mate then threatened to report me to the Captain for sleeping on watch and have me logged and fined. Reluctantly I went inside and knocked on the door and opened it slowly, the big Abbo turned round and looked at me. “G`day mate” I said “I saw you fishing on the pier earlier this evening,
Can I help you?” I notice a bottle of whisky on the Mate’s desk and a carton of ciggies, “Sit down we’ll
have a glass of scotch and have a ciggy as well”.
We sat down and I poured two glasses of whisky and lit two ciggies, I noticed that he was dripping wet.
I also noticed the Mate at the window mouthing obscenities at me for pouring out the whisky.
As we drank the whisky he told me that when he was fishing some one had come up behind him and had
hit him from behind in the darkness and he had fallen into the water. It had taken him more than half an
hour to climb up the wooden struts of the pier to get out, he had also lost all his fishing rods and tackle. He knew that the guy who did it was off our ship so came up the gangway amidships and as the Mate`s
cabin was the only one open he tried to wreck it to get some revenge.
“The bastard “ I said, “Have another whisky” and poured another two large glasses. The Mate was
jumping up and down outside the window, ”Put him ashore” he was shouting “and leave my whisky alone”.
As we finished our second glass of scotch I said “Come on mate it’s time to go home, you can take the rest of the whisky and this carton of cigarettes there are nearly 200 of them”.
I put my arm round his shoulders and led him out of the cabin, down to the gangway and then down to the end of the pier. I said good night to him there. The town sounded quiet, the State Troopers must have sorted out all the lunatics. I walked back to the gangway and the Mate was waiting. “You bastard,” he screamed, ” why did you give him my whisky and cigarettes?” “It was the only way I could pacify him, he could have killed us both if he had gone berserk, You didn’t do anything to help hiding outside like a coward”.
I turned and walked away from him, I strolled up the fore deck to inspect the for`ard moorings.
Looking at my watch I saw that it was 3am. “Jeeze, “ I thought “I have only been in Bowen for twelve
hours and in that time I have been ashore, had a drink, ended up in the biggest fight that Queensland has
ever seen, been thrown in gaol, beaten up by the cops, escaped from gaol, worked half the night and got
injured doing it and sorted out the big Abbo. I hope we are not staying here too long, I can`t stand the pace.”
The rest of the night was quiet and peaceful and at 5,30am I called all hands to start work at 6am.
We had a laugh when I told Tom what had happened to the Mate and his whisky. I then had a shower and turned in, I was knackered.
At 0800 the Bosun was hammering on the cabin door, “Get up you bastard, the police are on board and want all hands for an identification parade.”
I fell out of bed pulled on my shorts and flip-flops and staggered up on deck. All the Sailors, Firemen and Stewards were lined up in front of three policemen and the Mate and Captain. They were sorting out the ones who they could recognise as being in the fight and also who had escaped from gaol.
As I came out on deck one of the cops said he recognised me as being in gaol and my right eye, which was now all swollen, and black around the cut was where he had hit me with his club. I denied it and said that I was on watch on the ship. The Mate asked the cop what time was I supposed to be in gaol, and he replied that every one had busted out at 7pm. “Then it couldn’t have been himas he was on watch here at 6pm and he injured his eye with the backlash of a wire rope.” I couldn’t believe it. The Mate had got me off the hook. Reluctantly the cop had to let me go. I don’t think the Mate was being kind to me, it was that he didn’t want too many of his men in gaol or he wouldn’t get much work done.
“ I am going back to my bunk now, I am knackered I have been working all night. “ the cops didn’t like it.
A few of the Sailors and Firemen including the two Glaswegian bastards, were taken ashore and taken to the Magistrates court where they were remanded until the following day with some of the crowd off the
`Trevethoe`. Next morning, Monday, the Magistrates had assessed how much damage had been done to
the town, which was quite a lot, so they were all fined and shared the costs of the damages between them.
The ships agents paid the fines and then it was deducted out of their wages. They were going home skint after a 5 months voyage.
Shore leave was stopped in Bowen after that which was just as well as it would not have been safe as some of the locals would have been waiting to get their revenge.
We stayed in Bowen until the following Friday, 28 June, then we sailed at 8pm for Port Alma, one day sail down the coast, near Rockhampton.
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PORT ALMA, QUEENSLAND 1957.
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On Saturday 29th of June, Tom and I returned to Port Alma, we had been here just a few months ago on the Dunedin Star. The place hadn’t changed, the crocodiles were still lurking in the creek, the mosquitoes were still biting, and the girls were still serving Sarsaparilla in the Wharfies canteen. The girls were very pleased to see us again and I suppose the crocs and skeetas were too.
Tom and I had been writing to Theresa and Thyra, two identical twins since our last visit seven months earlier so they were expecting us.
We were staying until Friday so we spent as much time as we could in the old railway carriages kissing and cuddling until the Mamasan was heard screaming for them to go to their shack.
Jerry, another , Liverpool lad also had a girl friend there called Mary.
When we were sailing on Friday the Girls said they would come down to Gladstone for the week end to see us. They had a long journey, they had to go up to Rockhampton to get the train down to Gladstone,
On Saturday afternoon the girls turned up in Gladstone and checked into a boarding house for the night, In those days Gladstone was a sleepy one horse town with wooden buildings and just a couple of pubs with batwing doors.
The girls arrived, Thyra my girl hadn’t been able to come so another girl from the Canteen came with Theres and Mary. She was Betty, who was a stunning blue eyed blonde but she was a slate short, she was a bit daft but was good fun to be with.
On Saturday evening Tom and I took our guitars and Jerry carried the grog, we went down to the beach by the Lagoon.
It was a beautiful night, we were sat under the palms drinking and laughing with the girls . A big august moon was rising out of the Pacific and sparkling on the ripples in the lagoon, a lovely evening with the smell of frangipani in the air, fantastic.
With our guitars Tom and I were doing our Tab Hunter act, singing `Red Sails in The Sunset`, his record was popular at the time.
It was a most romantic evening, we were kissing and cuddling the girls, Betty was really good.
We eventually left the beach and waked back to the Boarding House with them.
Seeing no one around the girls said we could come in and spend the rest of the night there.
It was just a very sparse room with a double bed and a single bed in it. A couple of King size cockroaches galloping around the floor when we switched on the light.
Soon we ended up in bed, Jerry and Mary got the single bed first, so Tom and I had to share the double bed with Theresa and Betty. Great , lets get down to some serious business. Before long, Jerry was humping Mary, Tom was humping Theresa and I was struggling with Betty. “What yer troying to do “
She says, in her strong Australian accent. I don’t believe this, I thought, what does she think I am trying to do .”I am trying to get it in, that’s what I am trying to do” I grunted. “what have you done with it”
“Now one has ever been in there before” she said, “You mean you’re a virgin?”
“Yers, I have never had it before.” She said. Great , fantastic, I cant believe my luck, I have finally found one.
Well we pushed, we shoved, we heaved, we thrutched, Nothing. “What have you got in there Betty? Its blocked up”. “Noffin,” she said, ”I told you noffins been in there before.”
We tried and tried, “The bloody thing has healed up “ I said to Betty. “You can keep on troying if you want but now one else ever got in there.” Betty, she was so innocent, so simple and so bloody daft.!
By this time Tom and Jerry had finished their performance, and all four were listening and laughing at me and Betty. We all ended up laughing and rolling about at all this when the door burst open, and stood in the doorway was an ugly middle aged woman in a tatty dressing gown and curlers in her hair. She was screaming in an eastern European accent,”Vot is this in mein house, you turn it into a brothel already”, I hadn’t I didn’t do anything. “All the mens in mein house and not paying der rent”.
Jerry climbed out of bed naked with all his tackle dangling, “Mein Gott” she screamed, “Vot is dat, don’t come near me with dat”,
Jerry got his dungarees and pulled out two pounds and said, ”Here you are girl, here`s the rent”.
She snatched the money from his hands and stuffed it down her grubby bra,
“Now all you mens get out of mein house, the girls can stay until morning.”
Tom and I climbed out of bed, both naked. “Mein Gott,” she screamed again, “Such things I have never before seen, get on der clothes and get out of mein house.” I think she was getting a bit excited I don’t think she had seen a naked man before, now she had three stood in front of her.
She never turned away, she just stood there staring as we got dressed. I was wondering if her box was healed up, I didn’t fancy trying to find out.
When we were dressed we kissed the girls good bye and told them we would see them before they got the train back to Rockhampton.
As we walked away the old bitch was screaming after us, “Don’t you come back , next time I call the Police.”
“Do you think we should go back and give her one” said Tom” “Go away “ said Jerry.” I wouldn’t touch her with yours”, I said, “I bet its either healed up or its got teeth in it.”
We walked down the hill towards the Jetty just as dawn was breaking over the Pacific, beautiful. We were laughing at the nights events and we had had a good night out and really enjoyed it.
On Sunday morning we met the girls in a café and bought them some lunch and had a good laugh at last nights events. All to soon it was time for them to leave for the train. We took them to the station and kissed them good bye. A few tears were shed and that was just the Sailors, we waved to them until the train went out of sight then walked to the pub and had a few bevies.
We wrote to them for a while then it faded away. I wonder if Betty is still a virgin 55 years later. I hope so.
.We stayed in Gladstone until Thursday 11th of July loading frozen beef, We had been working on the wharfs on shore pay most of the time on the coast assisting the Wharfies, we were getting shore pay for that, it was big money at the time. And they were saving it up for us until we had completed loading the full cargo.
.
. ADELAIDE STAR. BRISBANE. JULY 1957.

Early on Friday Morning, 12th of July, we arrived in Morton Bay to pick up the pilot and then sailed up the Brisbane River to moor alongside Borthwicks Abattoir wharf to load frozen beef for England.
We got the fridge hatches ready, all cleaned and chilled for the thousands of sides
Of beef.
Meanwhile the stockyards behind the abattoir were filling up with the cattle the drovers had brought down from Winton in Northwest Queensland. By 5 pm we had completed the fridges ready for loading so we all got showered and shampooed ready to go ashore for a few grogs.
Whilst we had been on the Queensland coast we had been working on the cargo side of the ship, which meant that they had to pay us shore rates of pay. We could earn as much in an hour as we did in a day and we were due to be paid out on Saturday morning.
Tom, Jerry and I went down to the first alehouse on the way to Brisbane. In there were the cattle drovers washing down the trail dust with cool beers. We got talking to them and as all seamen have a yearning to be cowboys we asked the trail boss if there were any jobs going on the drives. He told us to make our way to Winton the next trail drive leave in around three months and there maybe jobs there or boundary riders jobs going. “Can you ride a horse?” he asked. “Only as good as John Wayne”, we replied, swilling our beer down, dreaming of being cowboys. “Good, then maybe I’ll see you up there”, he replied.
We carried on into Brisbane to the Grand Central Hotel, by this time most of the ship’s crowd were in there but not many young ladies, just a few old hags that the old firemen were sniffing around. So we carried on with having a few more beers planning our journey to Winton.
We got a few beers to take back to the ship when it was 10pm closing time and climbed into our taxis and back to Borthwicks.
We were sat in the mess room having a drink when I saw one of the old whores that the firemen had brought back on board stagger down the alleyway and go into the cabin that Tom and I shared. “I’d better go and see what she is doing in there”, I said to Tom. When I got to the door she was stood with her legs apart and had the shits running down her legs into a big dollop in her shoes and around her feet. The stench was bloody awful.
When she saw me she grabbed a carton of 200 cigs off the desk and ran past me and down the alleyway dropping crap as she ran. Tom, was walking up towards her to see what was happening so she opened Fleetwood’s door and locked it from the inside. “Open up you bastard”, I shouted, whilst banging on the door. Then I heard Fleetwood’s voice shouting ``puck off she’s mine now”. I kicked the door and the lock flew off and I went into his cabin. The cabin was in darkness and Fleetwood was in bed, “What’s going on?” he shouted. I thumped the whore knocking her unconscious then I grabbed my carton of ciggies and walked out of the cabin saying to Fleetwood, “She’s all yours now”. He hadn’t seen the crap until he switched on the light then he went berserk. There was crap all over his carpet.
He dragged the whore out into the alleyway and dumped her there. Then one of the Glaswegian bastards, a big fat ugly slob, saw her and dragged her into his cabin and locked the door. Next morning she had done a runner taking all his money, a carton 200 ciggies and a packet of washing powder, that he needed as she had crap all over his cabin and bunk. We had two Glaswegians on board and they were a right pair of bad bastards, always causing trouble and wanting to batter everyone. We sorted them out later.
Meanwhile back in the cabin there was an ever-widening circle of crap on the carpet. The carpet was really cocnutmatting about six feet in length and three feet wide. So I rolled up the edge of the mat until it became a tube and very gently raised it up to the porthole and slid it through and into the Brisbane River. It probably ended up on some Aussie`s veranda later on.
Then Tom and I had to scrub the cabin out with disinfectant to get rid of the stink before we could turn in.

Next morning was Saturday and we got paid our shore pay, which amounted to about £350. over a years wages on the ship at £30 a month.
Someone had the bright idea of going to the races in the afternoon. At the Doomden Race course was the biggest race in Queensland, the Doomden 10,000 Guineas, and so all hands got dressed up and ordered limousines to take us to the racecourse, we were millionaires for the day. The atmosphere there was quite exciting, we went into the restaurant had lunch and fine wines and then started to bet on the horses.
We hadn’t got a clue about horses or betting and with £50 win on that horse and £50 win on this horse we soon lost the lot. The Bookies thought that we were dream punters. By the last race we were all skint, the lot had gone. We all went back to Brisbane on the tramcar with just enough money left for a few drinks in the Grand Central Hotel on Queen Street.
After pooling our money, called a tarpaulin muster, we got a couple of bottles of grog to take back to the ship.
We had formed what we called `the syndicate`, that was if the Glaswegians attacked one of us then the `syndicate would all join in to defend him. They were Tom, Jerry, Fleetwood and myself. The four of us were sat in our cabin drinking our grog and talking about the fantastic day out we had just had when the door was kicked open. In the door way was a big Glaswegian bastard, the worst one of the two.
He was as pissed as a rat, and was snarling, “ Och aye, I am going to kill you Liverpool bastards”. He stood in the door way and started to take his coat off, when his coat was half way down his arms, Tom looked at me and I looked at him, let’s go, we both stood up and both our fists connected on his jaw at the same time. He fell back and hit the bulkhead behind him, and slid to the deck. Then he started to get up and Tom and Jerry started to have a go with him. He was a big powerful man so there was only one thing to do, that was to put him down and keep him down. I got the two-gallon fire extinguisher off the bulkhead and bounced it on the Glaswegians head; he went down and stayed down. We dragged him down the alley way to his cabin and threw him in and locked him in, we didn’t want him coming back. He was a much quieter man after that, the bastard.
During Sunday we went into the abattoir to see the cows being killed, it was not a very nice thing to see. They were hit on the head with a hammer to stun them and then they were hung up by the back legs and then were cut from belly to the jaw to gut them and then they went by an overhead rail where they were dismantled before being frozen ready to load on the ship.
That night after a few grogs down at the alehouse we saw the cattle in the stockades at the back of the abattoir, they were mooing as if they knew what was going to happen.
We felt sorry for them after seeing their friends die, so we opened the gates and let them out. There were hundreds of head of cattle all stampeding down the road trying to get to Perth 3000 miles away, or as far as possible from the abattoir.
We got back to the ship fast and turned in. On Monday morning the Police and officials from the abattoir came on board and with the Captain and Mate we were all questioned about the stampede, but obviously we knew nothing about it. It took them a long time to round them up and get them back into the stockade. At least they lived another day longer.
The rest of the week was fairly quiet, we didn’t have much money having lost it all on the horses and we were planning the trip up to Winton.
Then on the Wednesday night Smithy, and AB from Stornoway, came back bevied and got to the top of the gangway and stood there on the platform singing in the Gaelic, he leaned against the manropes and toppled over the to and crashed onto his head thirty feet below., on the jetty.
We legged it down there and he was lying still, a pool of blood creeping around his head. We thought he was dead. A phone call sent for the ambulance and he was taken away, the Medics didn’t think much of his chances of survival.
I phoned the hospital next day and they said he was still unconscious in Intensive Care.
I heard a few years later that he survived and on his way home on another ship he tied a rope around his neck and jumped over the wall and hung himself. Sad.
The ship was sailing on Friday morning and if we were to jump ship we would have to do it on Thursday night.
I decided not to go as I was broke and didn’t think we could get very far without any money. The syndicate had a final tarpaulin muster and all the spare cash that we had was given to Tom and Jerry.
That evening, on the 18th of July 1957, they said their goodbyes, left and went into Brisbane to try and get out of town before the Captain notified the police that they were missing at sailing time.
We sailed without Tom and Jerry next day, Friday, 19th of July, for Sydney, after the Captain reported to the police that two men were missing.



We arrived in Sydney again on Sunday and stayed there until Thursday.
It was a little quiet now, with the two mates skinning out and two ieft behind in hospitaland we were short of money,
The Captain didn’t give us a sub, said we had had enough money and didn’t want anyone else jumping ship.
We picked up a couple of lads off the beach there, One was Morgan, a lad from New Zealand who was wanted by the Police there, he had got a `ring bolt` across from Wellington to Sydney on the Tasman Ferry and a job on our ship. He was a great fellow and a good comedian.
We sailed Thursday evening for Melbourne.
. We arrived in Melbourne on Saturday morning mooring at the bottom of Flinders Street.
I phoned Sheila`s home in Melton South, which was way out in the country, a long train ride from Spencer Street Station. Her brother and Dad invited me to the farm for the weekend. So I was the train by lunch time.
I had to tell the train driver where I was going, there was no station at Melton South so he would know where I wanted to get off. I also had to tell him I was returning on Sunday afternoon, he told me to be at the same place and wave him down. A bit different than British Rail. Very hard climbing down and up a trains side standing on the wheels and trying to open the door that was high above.
I had a good time with the family, I had brought them over on the GEORGIC in 1955 so I did know them. I went horse riding through the bush and the plains with her brother Billy and that was a new experience. I thought, how daft is this? I come all the way to Australia to see Sheila and end up going out with her brother.
I made it back to Melbourne on Sunday evening,
We sailed from Melbourne on Wednesday 31 July, after battening down and dropping all the derricks and making ready for sea.
We were going home via the Suez Canal, it was now open, Outward bound it was still closed due to the war, that was why we sailed around the Cape.
We called at Aden for bunkers and then up to the Canal and then just one stop at Gibraltar, arriving there on Wednesday 28 August,
We tied up at six am, The Cook was stood in his pyjamas by the rails as we tied up.
We got the derricks topped and the hatch ready for the Dockers and then sat in the mess room waiting for breakfast. At eight thirty the Galley Boy ran into the mess room and shouted, ”No breakfast today lads, the Cook is Dead.”
The Cook had gone back to his cabin and then collapsed and died. The Stewards had lifted him onto his bunk and he was certified dead by the Captain,
The undertaker was sent for and a Van appeared at the gangway. The Bosun came down aft and said Ok Lads I want some of you to carry the Cook down the gangway to the Van. We all legged it to the gangway, ran down and up the road. He caught Fleetwood and Len Seed, they had to do the job. Meanwhile we were up the road to the first bar for a few bevies, Don’t like picking up stiffs.
We stayed on the ale all day and then came back late and turned in.
Next morning the Captain had us all on the bridge for being adrift all the previous day so we were logged a days pay.
That day there was a funeral for the Cook and a select few were chosen to go the Funeral.
The rest of us took the day off again and went into town.
I walked past the NAAFI Club where we had been thrown out of when I was there on the Dunedin Star. There was a Notice on the gate, “No Dogs, Dagos or Merchant Seamen allowed.”
Didn’t want to go in anyway, they get upset so easily.
We ended up in the Cha Cha Bar, and soon had a few girls round us and sat on our knees, I had a lovely one, called Paquita, She gave me her necklace, a gold St. Christopher medal, I kept it for quite a few years but I think another young lady took it off me.
I was on a good promise with Paquita, and was looking forward to her finishing working there.
The Bar began to fill up with Royal Navy fellows, and soon it was packed.
The girls were dancing on the stage, and Morgan and Fleetwood went on the stage to the cheers of everyone. They were dancing, drunk as monkeys and linked arms and started spinning around, Morgan shot off the stage and crash landed on a table full of Royal Navy men smashing all their glasses, knocking the table and all the Navy men over. They started to batter Morgan so all our crowd joined in and soon the whole Bar was bashing each other, all the girls were screaming and the Bar was wrecked. Then the Navy Shore Patrol rushed in cracking skull with their clubs and dragging out the Navy men. We legged it out and down the road.to the Royal Oak, cursing Morgan. My chance with Paquita had gone.
Next day we battened down again and sailed to Liverpool and the end of an eventful voyage, arriving there on Monday 2nd of September, and then paid off. Four months and seven days.
Happy days were here again.

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How was that????
Cheers
Brian.

Captain Treasure Jones last master of the Queen Mary , wrote , " From a Tramp to a Queen " a very readable book Tramp to Queen: The Autobiography of Captain John Treasure Images of England: Amazon.co.uk: John Treasure Jones: Books , I was sure that one of the ex UCL masters had written an autobiography , but have goggled all the ex Pendennis Castle guys that it could have been , because I was told there was a reference to a certain infamous A7 club where a young lady , on an annual cruise to Cape town and back , out on the Pendennis , back on one of the others , always occupied cabin A7 , and she had sexual ambitions regarding the crew in general , but dew a blank . The story would certainly have been true about teh barman though as teh Chief Barman on at least one UCL mail Ship had a Jag of relatively new condition , and I think most of the rest of us MAsters , MAtes and Engineers had what were normal family saloons , some of a greater age than others .

Quote:

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Originally Posted by cappy

hello rob not many seafarers dont know shields as we get older we forget some things the place you stated in shields was osborne terrace not road

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Just Googled teh map Cappy , It was Osborne Avenue , still there today from Ecclestone road to Madeira Terrace , seems the railway line has gone though that ran along the back a street away ,

Regards Rob

Quote:

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Originally Posted by Ivan Cloherty

Ted, it's one thing writing the stories, it's a minefield trying to get them published, .........

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I would put my life savings on it........... When in years to come we are all history, Someone will want to research stories like these and publish them. Its sad to think that unless forums like this dedicated to Merchant Seaman and the posts we all right up don't survive. They will be deleted from the Internet. As we are all aware we are an island and certainly without the Merchant Navy Shipping and there cargo's for many ,many, years this country would never have the wealth it enjoys today. And of course the men who worked the ships that carried us through 2 world wars in convoys. I have my Merchant Navy Veterans badge on display in my front room which i obtained for supplying British armed forces in Aden during the Suez crisis, I am known affectionately by my 3 sons and daughter if you bring up the subject as uncle Albert, { Fools and Horses } Yet my 3 eldest grand kids out of 5 show an interest and listen. My point all the records from Gravesend Sea School were thrown in a skip. They weren't thought to be of any interest to anyone ask my 3 eldest grand kids they will tell you different. Here on Merseyside i have spoken to teachers who agree the Merchant Navy and the seaman who endured some horrendous conditions should be well documented for future generations because unfortunately it will never return to the backbone of this country's survival which know one can deny it was. Regards Terry.:thumb_ship2:

regarding getting published.
my son in law has written the first two books of a trilogy and published them on kindle on the basis that they can be downloaded free of charge and if sufficient people download them a publisher could take them up and publish in book form.they have to be in good order and have a cover page and be grammatically correct.
he has offered to sort out some childrens stories i wrote for my grandchildren but I need to polish them up and get them illustrated and one day I might get round to it.I also need to finish my biography which I started for my kids.
there are publishers on the internet but they want fortunes and you have to market them youself
john sutton