In 1958 on Port Line's 'Port Huon', we were sliding our way through a turquoise, glass-like, sea in the Bay of Islands, New Zealand, bound for the tiny, one-jetty, port of Opua. Closed as a port during the early years of WWII it had recently been re-opened. As the first ship to return there for more than 17 years, Federal Steam's 'Sussex' had arrived a week or two earlier and had been greeted with great fanfare. During the intervening period, one of Shaw-Savill's had beaten us for second place honours, but there was still enough local good-will left over to ensure that our time there was memorable. In 2006 I returned to Opua (no longer a port) and the Bay of Islands whilst on holiday with friends from Spain ( he an ex-MN pal from the 60's and she a Kiwi lass who hadn't been back to N.Z. since 1958). Little had changed. Certainly tourism had left it's indelible mark, but the inherent beauty of the place was something that even time could never erase.
A less pleasant memory from the early 60's occurred about 7.30am one morning when, as an A.B. on G.S.N.C.'s pleasure 'boat' 'Royal Sovereign', having just tied-up at Tower Pier in the Thames, at London, I watched as the Met. River Police recovered the body of a partly-clothed male from the river and laid it out on the decking of the pier. I was mindful that in one hour we were expected to embark 2000 happy-clappers bound for Southend and Margate. Nevertheless, I was transfixed. Close-up it was the first deceased person I'd ever seen. The body, like grey marble, undignified, lay there having recently departed a world that no longer cared. I recall being impressed by the matter-of-fact, seemingly emotionless way the police went about their business. Little did I know then, that years later on the other side of the world I would, like them, carry out the same unpleasant tasks that police work entails. For those that may wonder, I can tell you now that most 'coppers' when faced with the mayhem and horror they are called upon to confront and 'deal with', have the very same feelings of abhorrence most sane people experience. The difference lies in their familiarity with such happenings and a sense of duty which, in the face of public expectation, overwhelms any personal feeling. Perhaps, the next time, for whatever reason, you feel disposed towards venting your spleen against Police, you might consider that most of them do a thankless, essential job, knowing their reputation will always be besmirched by a minority who use their office for personal gain.
................Roger
