William was a K.P. par excellence; no chef had ever met one quite like him. His name was William and that was it, no Bill would he answer to, it was William or nothing. There were many stories about William, he had served in the war and had a bad experience, he had been crossed in love, his wife had died in a terrible accident. Which was the truth, who could say, as they were all suppositions, no one knew the full story about William.

William we all knew travelled light, very light. He came aboard with a brown carrier bag in which he had, two pairs of shoes, two pairs of socks, two T shirts, two pair of chefs check pants, toothbrush, razor and comb. Apart from that the clothes he stood in, a suit of some age, white shirt and tie, black shoes and socks. Every night at the end of his shift William could be seen doing his dhobi, today’s clothes, with a clean set ready for the next day. William was a very quiet man, one pint ever night in the pig before turning in, and his ventures ashore were as he put it, ’to meet the locals’.

His work ethics were not to be ignored; often castigating cooks who brought burned pots to him. ‘If you burn the food then you cannot cook’ he would tell them. At the end of the day the pot wash area would be the cleanest spot in the galley, with all pots and pans correctly stored and gleaming. A credit to the head chef and the galley.

Funerals at sea on the Windsor were carried out at 1700 hours from the Gun Port door on the Second Stewards landing. The ship would slow to about five knots for this service. This was an area outside the office of the second steward and went from one side of the ship to the other. To one side the second stewards office, to the other the bulkhead between the main galley and the landing.

There was always some ‘man of the cloth’ on board most voyages so he would be called upon to carry out a very simple service, accompanied by the relative of the deceased, two deck hands, to tip up the board, and the officer of the day. The body would be placed on a plank stretched out between two trestles and draped with a flag. After a few words from the ‘man of the cloth’ the two deck hands would tip the board and the body, duly weighted, would slide into the water.

In the main galley there were two gash chutes, one close to the pot wash, the other closer to the bulkhead and close to the fish corner. It was the responsibility of William to ensure that these were cleared on a regular basis. On the days of burials at sea the sous chef had the responsibility of making sure they were locked until after the service. The bakers department had been very busy; dozens of sponges as well as Crème Caramels so between them had used over one case of eggs. One case of eggs produces a lot of eggshells, all of which had been deposited in the gash chute.

William being the worker that he was always turned to on time and carried out his duties to the letter. Every evening at 1700 hours William would arrive in the galley and commence his duties. The first of which was to empty the gash chutes. On this particular day when he arrived they were locked, as they should be, but no one had informed William of this, the sous chef had not done his job correctly. William being the diligent man he was duly went to the head chef’s office to obtain the key, he knew where it was kept so getting it was not a problem. Having taken the key he then set out to do his duty and empty the gash chutes.

Timing is they will tell you every thing, without timing you will never even get through the day, and for William time was of the essence. Every duty he performed was to time and today was no exception. The ship had slowed to the regulation five knots and the service was under way. Having completed his service the body was committed to the deep and slid over. Unfortunately William had also done his bit pulling the handle on the gash chute maybe a second or so before the body went over. The gash was not all of a heavy nature, a large amount of green waste, and the egg shells floating along like table tennis balls across the surface, arriving at the proximity of the gun port door as the body went over right into the middle of it.

Fort a second nothing happened, then the wife screamed as she realised what had occurred. One of the deck hands being a bit quick witted had the presence of mind to close the gun port door in a bit of a rush and the officer of the day took the lady, now in tears, away. William unaware of the event continued his duties and was never spoken to about it. The sous chef ended up on the bridge in front of the skipper who tore him to bits for not informing William. Ray Meadows the head chef was moved to another company ship next voyage, and William did not return next voyage. We never ever heard of him again.