First trip memories

[leratty]

Happy daze John, ah you character na did not drink it or get any lemon essence from the cook as he drank that (:
JG p 62, agree most unlikely.
John S, never did the steam whistle I think it might not have been to type of material one could polish or was painted? Yes to the ships bell but not the forecastle one, in fact don't recall ever doing that?
Bridges then were dare one say it quite cosy, of course not like when Charles Louis or Capt. Kong sailed where they were often open to the elements, but then they became bloody huge & impersonal. I enjoyed my time on the wheel, I preferred 12-4 so it was so peaceful a very good time for thinking.

[Phil Hughes]

First trip to sea. September 22-1955.
I did this last year, but thought I would do it again as we have quite a few new members.
Recall sailing down the Channel on the Warwick Castle.
Would rather forget the Bay of Biscay........................

Still get nostalgic thinking about my first trip. It was the beginning of some of the happiest years of my life.
How about sharing some of you first trip memories?
Den.

Hi Den,
I remember my first trip to sea on the Warwick Castle too in 1958 when I was taking my steering ticket. After 5 hours I was getting cocky and the Q.M. left my shoulder and moved a few feet away when I noticed I was off course by about half an inch on the compass card. Thinking this was a lot, it was only about 2/3 degrees, I put the helm over too fast and we rolled badly. The Captain was thrown out of his seat in his cabin and when he arrived on the bridge and looked aft so many passengers who were in the pool were still swimming on the deck. The Q.M. was reprimanded and I got an extra 2 hours training. Happy days.

Vindi Phil.

[Chris Hurren]

Your post reminded me to look up my first trip as a very green Apprentice straight out of the London Nautical School (Blackfriars) to my first ship and trip which lasted an incredible 2 years 1month and 10 days! That was with Bank Line on SS Marabank, A 1944 built Liberty ship. We went round the World 3 times, mostly in the southern Oceans ...... Happy days. Chris Hurren

We

First trip to sea. September 22-1955.
I did this last year, but thought I would do it again as we have quite a few new members.
Recall sailing down the Channel on the Warwick Castle.
Would rather forget the Bay of Biscay........................

Still get nostalgic thinking about my first trip. It was the beginning of some of the happiest years of my life.
How about sharing some of you first trip memories?
Den.

[Ken Norton]

My first trip to sea was aboard the Frederick T Everard, joined as cabin boy, no vindi straight to sea two weeks before xmas. Remember there were two cabin boys one looking after the engineers aft' and me looking after the deck officers amidships. First morning on board we set sail for Ghent, after carrying up all the breakfasts and serving in the mess room I had to make the bunks, well no vindi so made them like beds.Washed all the breakfast dishes and cleaned the mess room,the ship started to move around quite a bit as we got outside of London river, Finding it a bit difficult to stand sat down in the pantry when the "Old man" shouted down to me to get my a.. up to his cabin. Up I go squeaky bum yes sir, "What vindi did you go to boy?" none sir, thought not you don't know how to make a bunk properly. He now threw all the bedding on the deck and proceeded to show me how to make a bunk. When finished he threw the bedding on the deck, "right your turn" watched me with my attempt, rippled and an untidy mess he threw it all on the deck, "right again boy" little knees shaking ended up getting it just about right on the fifth or so attempt. "Right that will do tomorrow get it right first time and no ripples boy". Next day the third mate said to me "got the bunk making off then Jan" I said i hope so I got a lesson yesterday, he started to laugh and said the "Old man" is ex R.N. this is the company ship and he is a bit of a stickler. The next ear bending I got was on arrival in Ghent, not having a clue I gave the Pilot and two boatmen lunch and the "Old man" had to wait for his while I went aft' to get more food, the cook went daft so ended up with another bol..king. Happy days. As the old saying goes "It can only get better" and it did I was a quick learner, it was a rude awakening for me coming from a quite sheltered backround in a little village (farmer to sailor boy). This was all taking place in what I thought was rough weather but was soon to find out what heavy weather was. Did not have a clue about life when I first went to sea but it turned out to be a great education in the skills needed to become successful in life, it taught self discipline, respect for others, the rewards for working hard, integrity and endurance. Will always be thankful and that it was the right choice for me.

[Jim Brady]

Talking of first trip rollickings this was not at sea but at Gravesend Sea School.I think it must've been about the last week of the six weeks we did when myself and another lad from London (named Hewitt) were given the job of saloon stewards on the officers dining room.There we were putting all our training into practice such as all the silver (knives forks spoons) had to be 1 inch from the edge of the table,a halfpenny was exactly an inch so around the table we would go with our halfpenny nudging the silver up or pushing it down to match the inch of the halfpenny.Now when at home I was only used to a full half pound of butter going onto the butter dish here I was faced with a small silver butter dish with a liner.I spent quite a bit of time filling the liner with butter and getting a nice flat finish to it,a work of art I thought.Myself and Hewitt had to stand outside the closed door and would answer to the call "Steward" we took it in turns to go in and see what they wanted.The word "Steward" was shouted,it was Hewitts turn to go in,he soon come out telling me you are wanted in there.Did you do this pointing at the butter dish liner,yes sir said I,do you expect us to eat that after you having your dirty little fingers all over it,there was my work of art shot to pieces.I soon realised that what you do is cut an inch thick off the half pounder and place that on the liner.

Regards.
Jim.B.

[Keith Tindell]

I was deck boy on the old Treworlas, first allocation as peggy, a few weeks after the start of the trip, the bosun decided to give me a break, and a spell on deck. Myself and the JOS was helping the bosun renew the old fashioned boat falls. he showed us how the correct procedure to open the brand new coil of rope, and began measuring out. After a few minutes, he was called away, and tied a whammy where he had got too. We waited some time, and then discussed as per training school, when cutting a rope, have a whammy either side of the cut, which we did and then cut !!!!, bosun not pleased right bollocking, and Tindell back in the messroom, demoted peggy again. When i think back, it could have been worse, as we cut it only a couple of fathoms into the coil, kt

[Chris Allman]

I have told this before I think - forgive me if I have

On boarding my first ship as a Cadet, I had never really been more than 6 feet off the ground except when my Mother & Father took me as a youngster to Jersey and we flew there in a Douglas DC 3 better known as a Dakota. That episode in my life will be the subject of another story.

My introduction to heights, or should I say, gloss painted, salt encrusted steel ladders and various accommodation openings, involved me climbing an eight foot high steel ladder to the poop deck of my first ship, where I lowered the Red Ensign at the end of my very first day. I took this as a minor triumph and believed myself to have nearly become a seaman. Oh little did I know of the heights I literally had to reach before anyone judged me near becoming a seaman.

Once Liverpool had vanished into the haze and the swell of the Irish Sea, influenced by the western ocean began moving the ship, it also began moving me too. My Senior Cadet ( only senior because he had done one trip ) announced that the Bridge Windows needed cleaning and guess who was to clean them. Hhmmm, I thought that does not appear too hard. I duly filled a bucket with hot water and with soogee cloth in hand presented myself to the Third Mate on the Bridge. “OK” said he, “ Carry on”.

I duly cleaned the insides of all ten windows with my cloth and polished them with newspaper as I had been told. I was in the process of departing when the Third Mate hailed me with an “ OIY what about the outsides “. “ Outsides, Outsides, nobody had mentioned the outsides. My juvenile and inexperienced mind concluded he was taking the p-ss out of a first tripper and thinking quickly, or so I thought, replied, “ I am just going to change the water “. He appeared to accept this, but then said, “ Well hurry up because the Old Man will be up soon and he does not like dirty windows “.

I returned to my fellow cadet and informed him of the completion of the job. He appeared surprised at my appearance so soon and enquired if I had done both the inside and outside of the windows. Outside, Outside, he was obviously in on the p-ss taking too. It was at least a 50 foot drop from the bridge to the maindeck. I just laughed and tried to appear normal, “ Yeah, Yeah I replied, I did the outsides too “, “ No you did’nt “ he replied, “ I was watching, you have to do the outsides too, now go back and do them otherwise the Old Man will go mad “.

Was he serious ? Er Yes he was, I made my way back to the bridge with sinking heart and twitchings elsewhere. Upon my arrival the Third Mate said, “ “Hurry up, where you been “, I said, “ Getting water “, he looked at me and said, “ I will help you, come on “. The windows had leather belts on them, like the train windows had. He lowered a window and said “ Here sit on the frame, I will hold your legs, lean out and clean the windows on each side, don’t look down and hold onto the frame with your other hand “

I did as I was told, I don’t know who or what I was more frightened of, but I did it, five times and the windows were done. “There you go”, said the Third Mate, “ you have done it, but I wont hold your legs next time “, Oh Hell, next time, I was a mixture of being grateful and frightened out of my life. I stammered a thank you and fled. What on earth had I done, gone to sea, was I going to survive my first trip.

Well I did survive, lent out of those windows on my own many times and other ships windows too and I did a lot more things which would not be done today.

Chris.

[cappy]

###i may have posted this story before .....but being sent to work by the cragmoor ...one of runcimans tramps .....i appeared to be getting in every ones way ...we were loading stores and as most know that can be a hard day or twos work....looking round i saw what appeared to be a friendly face .....and asked him were were we going ......his answer was somewhat like fecked if i no and couldnt give a toss any way ......somewhat chasened .... i later in the day said to another guy were are we going as i was truly excited about going to far away places......his answer was LA......not having a clue as to where LA was i trundled home to be told my old man wanted to see me ......now my old man new more than anyone in the world about anything ......were are you going he said ......i said i am going to L A ....well he said you will be back in a few days ...its in france .....ive been all over bloody france them froggies keep shouting allay france over there you are probably be back in a week or so ...and any way i will give you some advice watch no bugger tries to feck you on that ship... so cappy duly arrived aboard next day for sailing.... cheeks clenched tightly together and if by chance any one smiled i was off like a goodn .......happily nobother in that field...some 10 months later back came a bronzed well fed muscular young man ready to take on the world ....and i did......happy days cappy

[Chris Thompson]

Joined the Mv Silverfjord in LA(1972), How lucky can I have been, was allowed through US immigration on my discharge book with no visa either, when you are 21 you don't realise you know nowt, to this day looking back I don't know how I got through. Realised after a few days I was there like it or not, it wasn't till the 3week crossing from Japan to Panama that I realised this was for me. A 4 month trip that took in the delights of Nagoya in Japan back to Europe via the Mexican gulf. I think I bored my mates when I got home with recounts of where I had been. Smashing ship that I rejoined 6months later and it lasted through till around 2010, there are pics of it on shipspotting.com
I joined with hair on my shoulders, as was the fashion and was extremely worried about crossing the line with stories of "hot cross buns and hair shaving" floating around, the 2nd decided to bend the line and I ended up one side long one side short, to be fair it must have been funny, didn't stop trips up the road in New Orleans and the other gulf ports though.

[Captain Kong]

MY FIRST VOYAGE TO SEA AS A DECK BOY. 1952..

Here is a story of my first trip to sea as a green Deck Boy, bullied by a bunch of bastards, almost driven to suicide by them and then I turned................
.
MY FIRST VOYAGE TO SEA AS A DECK BOY. 1952..
I had spent twelve weeks on the Training ship, VINDiCATRIX, in Sharpness, Gloucestershire. I signed on at the Pool in Canning Place in Liverpool and after six weeks of waiting I got the a ship, the Commodore Grant, ex Fort Grant. She was owned by a London Greek company, North East Freighters NEF of Montreal.
I joined the ship in Brocklebank Dock in Liverpool on 18 July 1952 where she had just finished discharging grain.
I signed on as Deck Boy on £10 a month for a voyage to India via Antwerp where we were to load bagged fertilizer for Madras.
I climbed the gangway with my gear and went amidships to find the Mate. The deck was littered with hatch boards, beams, wires and the Dockers wearing flat caps and long greasy overcoats puffing on Woodbines.
I found the Mate’s cabin on the port side and knocked on the door and walked in. There was the Mate, fastening his wife’s bra, “What the hell do you want”? he shouted as he tried to stand in front of his wife who was looking embarrassed.
“I am your new Deck Boy” I said, “Well Eff off down aft, I’m busy”.
So I Effed off down aft and found the mess room on the poop.
The deck crowd was in there, six ABs and three Ordinary Seamen with the Bosun. The most miserable bunch of bullying bastards I have ever had the misfortune to sail with. For fifty years I have searched every Bar and Whorehouse around the world looking for them to repay them for the misery and beatings that I experienced during that voyage but never saw one of them.
The accommodation was not good. On the poop was two mess rooms, one for the Sailors and one for the Lascar Firemen and two bathrooms , one each side.
Down below on the tween deck was three cabins for the Sailors and three for the Firemen. I was in a four berth cabin right next to the steam engine in the Steering Flat.
My job as Peggy was to clean the Bosun and Chippy`s mess and cabin amidships and the Sailors Mess Room, bathroom, alleyways and cabins down aft. Also I had to carry all the Sailors food from the galley amidships down aft to the Mess Room. Sometimes in heavy weather when a green sea came over the after deck and I was washed into the scuppers losing the kits of food I would get battered off the Sailors and when I went back to the galley another thumping off the big fat ugly Cook from Cardiff.
I also had pump up the water from the after peak to a tank on top of the mess room several times a day, The pump was a wooden handle on the bulkhead, I had to push it backwards and forwards for a long time to get the water up to the tank Then the Lascars would be using it for showers and running taps faster than I could pump it up and then the Sailors would batter me again because there was no water left. After all that I would have to work on Deck in the afternoons chipping and painting or greasing wires.
On Monday, 21 July we battened down the hatches and dropped the derricks, shifted all the dunnage off the decks and made ready for sea at noon.
We sailed light ship for Antwerp where we were to load 10,000 tons of bagged fertilizer for Madras and we were there for ten days loading.
I found Antwerp a fascinating place, my first foreign port with all the colourful lights and bars around Schipper Straat, or Skipper Street as it is better known.
In one bar a big sexy barmaid, Philomena took a fancy to me and I was on free ale all the time I was there. Some of the Sailors went into Skipper Street and paid ten shillings for a leg over, Expensive just for a few minutes.
When we had completed loading we battened down, dropped the derricks hosed down the decks and sailed at 2200 stowing ropes as we sailed down the River Scheldt.
I was on nine pennies an hour for overtime.
After a five day run at ten knots we passed Gibraltar and entered the Med and then an eight day run in beautiful weather to Port Said for the Suez Canal.
As we were mooring to the buoys in Port Said, I happened to swear at one of the ABs, Clarence. He battered me up and down the after deck accentuating with each smash of a big iron fist that I should not call him a bastard. I took a hint as in a situation like that I was a quick learner.
We loaded bunkers and fresh water, then loaded two Canal boats on deck. We hoisted up the Canal Searchlight over the bow and made it fast.
George Roby, the famous Bum Boat man came on deck and spread his wares on the hatch. I bought a music box for mother off him.
.
Just after midnight we let go and joined the Southbound Convoy sailing through the Suez Canal.
After an interesting passage we past Port Tewfik and dropped off the
Two Canal Boats and the Searchlight into the water and sailed into the Red Sea.
The heat in the Red Sea was terrific and the Sailors and Lascars were using more and more water for showers and I was spending more and more time pumping up water for them, As soon as I had finished pumping up the water the Lascars would run it off and the Sailors would scream abuse at me in between thumps shouting `Get pumping you lazy bastard`
Five days later we were mooring up to the buoys in Aden to load bunkers again. We were soon surrounded by bum boats and a few cartons of ciggies were swopped for tea sets and music boxes.
Eight hours later we let go and the sailed round Steamer Point and towards the Indian Ocean.
We were in the South West Monsoon then with heavy seas sweeping over our decks. I lost a few meals trying to carry them from the galley amidships to the Mess room down aft. So I was hammered again by the deck crowd and the fat ugly Cook from Cardiff.
I got my own back on the Cook, he had a trumpet that he played very badly every day, the noise was diabolical. One day he turned in during the afternoon and left his Trumpet in the Galley. He had left his Trumpet in the Galley so I poured a load of chip fat into it and turned it round a few times and then when the lard set later it seized up all the valves.
When he went to play it that evening he was going demented, he was going to take a cleaver and kill the bastard who had done that.
Fortunately he never found out and the ship was a little quieter after that.
Eight days after leaving Aden astern we arrived in Colombo, Ceylon and moored up to buoys in the harbour to load bunkers.
Astern of us on the same buoy was the Cape Wrath, another old tramp that looked in a worse condition than we did.
The Sailors on the Cape Wrath shouted across to us that they had no cigarettes but had some cans of beer to do a swop with us.
Our Sailors got a wooden box made a lashing on it and put a few cartons of ciggies in and told me to swim over to the Cape Wrath.
The distance from our gangway to their gangway was a few hundred yards, I told them I couldn’t swim that far.
After being thumped a few times I decided that I was a fantastic swimmer and was over the side in no time at all.
It was a long hard swim across to the other ship dragging the wooden box, the water was quite choppy with the movement of ships and tugs in the harbour. The Sailors were jeering and cheering all the way.
When I got on board the Cape Wrath the Sailors were gasping for a ciggie, they had run out a week before. I had a beer with them, they told me they had been out for eighteen months and didn’t know when they were going to get home.
After hearing our Sailors screaming abuse across the water I put 18 cans of beer into the box and went back down the gangway and into the water again. It was a long hard swim to get back to the Commodore Grant. I was totally worn out when I got back on board.
I never got any beer, the Sailors drank the lot without offering me any. I must have been mad to have done it. When the Galley Boy dumped the garbage over the wall a big shark zoomed in along side to eat it.
We let go later that evening, sailed around Dondra Head and headed north into the Bay of Bengal. Two days later we tied up alongside the wharf in Madras, we were to be there for around ten days to discharge the bags of fertilizer.
Madras was hot stinking, sweaty and noisy. What a contrast to being at sea with the cool refreshing breeze and only the sound of the sea.
As soon as we were alongside the deck was swarming with hundreds of Indians shouting, screaming and stripping the hatches of tarps and throwing hatch boards and beams on deck and the clatter of the steam winches as they started discharging.
The deck was soon filthy with the spilt fertilizer and red betel juice spit all over. The Indians had no toilets and would just squat in the scuppers and crap filling the ship with their stink and millions of flies.
We had to keep the ports and doors locked or they would have stolen everything and made a stinking mess on the bathroom deck.
Every day the beggars would come down to the ship begging for food scraps, the saddest ones were the little kids who were like skeletons
pleading with squeaky voices, `No Mamma , No Poppa, dash me baksheesh.` I would give them any gash left over by the Sailors if they left any.
Dhobi Walla’s would come down and ask if they could do our dhobi.
The Sailors decided to hire one and made me in charge of him, I had to watch him all the time to make sure he didn’t steal anything.
He eventually did, stealing all the Sailors dungarees, shirts and our towels. We had to provide our towels in those days.
This resulted in me being beaten up again by all the Sailors.
On the first Saturday in Madras I heard there was a dance at the Anglo Indian Club in town. By the time I had scrubbed out both mess rooms and pumped up the water tank, showered and changed all hands were ashore and I went ashore on my own.
I didn’t know where this club was so I got a Rickshaw to take me. The rickshaw boy towed me around the City for a couple of hours and ended up at the gangway again saying he didn’t know where the club was. He was demanding 15 rupees, I only had a sub of 25 rupees and so I told him to get stuffed and gave him five and went to climb the gangway. He started to scream and grabbed my shirt and in an instant I was surrounded by a big crowd of screaming Indians.
I got a bit scared then so I gave him another ten and ran up the gangway. I thought what a lousy night out, first night ashore for over one month and it cost more than five days wages just to have a ride in a rickshaw.
On Sunday afternoon the galley boy, a lad called Keating from Wallasey, and I went to the beach a few hundred yards from the docks. It was a beautiful beach, completely deserted and stretch for miles with clean white sand and lined with palm trees, we spent a couple of happy hours swimming in the surf.
The following Saturday night there was another dance at the Anglo-Indian Club so this time I walked into the city and found it, no more rickshaws.
In the Club I saw an attractive young lady, I danced with her, she was the same age as I was and she told me her name was Elizabeth.
After the dance she took me over to the table where her mother was sitting and introduced me to her. Her mother, Mrs Thompson, was an Anglo-Indian and before she was widowed was married to a Liverpool man and they had lived there for many years before returning to Madras, where Mr Thompson had died. As I lived near to Liverpool they were quite interested and we got on quite well with each other.
At the end of a pleasant evening, dancing and talking, they invited me to dinner their home on Sunday evening.
They lived 30 minutes ride on a train south of Madras, so I finished work early and arrived at their house around 7pm.
They had a beautiful home built in Colonial style and surrounded by lush tropical gardens.
We had a fantastic dinner, waited on by Servants, it like something out of a movie for a young lad out of Bolton on his first trip.
Elizabeth introduced me to her brother, George, who was around 20 years old, he had been born in Liverpool and was easy to get along with.
All to soon the pleasant evening ended and I had to get the train back to Madras. Elizabeth and I wrote to each other for a while then it faded away and I never went back to Madras.

.................................................. ..
42 years later, in June 1994, my elder brother Jim and I went to London to see the Liberty ship, JEREMIAH O`BRIEN that had sailed from San Francisco to London for the 50th Anniversary of D. Day. We had both sailed on Sam boats and so it brought us a few memories.
We stayed at the Merchant Navy Hotel in Lancaster Gate.
In the evening we went into the hotel bar which was empty except for one very attractive young barmaid. We got chatting to her and found that she was a Student from Liverpool who worked in the Hotel in her spare time.
I could see that she was part Indian and mentioned this to her. An incredible story unfolded. She told me her father was an Anglo-Indian who had lived in Madras for many years before returning to Liverpool where he got married.
I had a strange feeling, and said, “Is your name Thompson?”
She gasped in amazement. I told her that I knew a family by the name of Thompson who lived outside Madras and there was a pretty young girl called Elizabeth, way back in 1952.
I described the house and location and her brother George.
The barmaid confirmed that was right, George was indeed her father and incredibly Elizabeth still lived in the house, she had never married. I wondered if she was still waiting for me.
The barmaid had been to the house many times on holiday to stay with her aunt Elizabeth.
My brother, Jim, could not believe it, an incredible story, of all the Gin Joints in all the world we had to choose this one.
We went into the bar on the next two nights but she was not there, another barmaid had taken over. It was amazing to have found her that night.
.................................................. .
.
Meanwhile back in 1952 in Madras, we completed discharging, battened down the hatches and dropped the derricks, hosed down the decks to clear the filth away.
Then a little Indian fellow turned up, he was a tattooist, and said he would tattoo all hands if we would stow him away and take him to Vizagapatam a couple of hundred miles up the coast. After he had tattooed us all we stowed him down the dunnage hatch with a load of burlap bags to sleep on. I had to feed him now and again.
Two days later we docked in Vizagapatam where he disappeared into the jungle of a million shanties.
Vizagapatam was just a stinking port, the town just consisted of filthy hovels and shanties and what seemed to be millions of Indians screaming “Baksheesh, Baksheesh.”
I only walked ashore once and that was enough. No one went ashore there.
We were her for seven days to load Manganese ore for Birkenhead, great we were homeward bound.
We completed loading and battened down again ready for sailing, dropped and secured the derricks and then hosed down the to get rid of the ore dust then let go and sailed south down the Bay of Bengal.
Four days later we moored to the buoys again in Colombo Harbour for bunkers. I bought 12 pounds of Broken Orange Peko Tea for mother back home. Tea was still rationed in those days.
Eight hours later we let go and sailed into the Indian Ocean bound for Aden eight days away.
On the voyage across the Sailors were getting a bit bored so for entertainment they would beat me up on Number five hatch every evening, they all thought it was funny, I was only a skinny kid and had no chance against the big Abs.
Some nights I was so fed up with it all I would climb over the rails lean out, count up to ten and when I got to ten I would let go and end it all.
It looked very tempting, looking into the dark water which was lit up with swirling patterns of phosphorous. In the end I would climb back inboard. Those bastards were driving me to suicide, but I put a stop to it when we were berthing in Aden.
As we were approaching the buoys in Aden one morning a big fat AB called Mush, started to knock me about the after deck.
By this time I had had enough, I had nothing to lose now and so went berserk. I smashed him several times in the face with my fists, bursting his nose and lips. I got him by the rails and heaved him over, I don’t know where I got the strength from.
He was clinging to the bottom rail on the outboard side hanging over the propeller, screaming for help while I was stamping on his fingers to make him let go, then I got the chain stopper and started to lash him with it, I just wanted to kill the bastard.
The Second Mate and one of the other Abs dragged me away from the trails and pulled Mush back inboard. He had to go below to his bunk to recover. He was a quiet man for the rest of the voyage after that and all the Sailors treated me with a bit of respect. I should have done that earlier in the voyage, I felt ten feet tall.
Any whinging off the Sailors after that I would just snarl at them. Some of them even helped me to pump up the water and occasionally washed the dishes in the mess after the evening meal.
I was never beaten again in all my years of seafaring.
After leaving Aden we steamed up the Red Sea to arrive in Suez Bay and then anchored to await our turn in the next convoy.
The sight there is something we will never see again, the bay was full of dozens of British ships, Union Castle, P&O, Orient, Blue Star, Blue Funnel, Federal, Clan, Shaw Savills, Port line, troop ships and so on.
Later in the morning it was our turn and we heaved up the anchor and followed the convoy into the Canal. A couple of hours later we anchored in the Great Bitter Lake and the convoy anchored again while the South bound convoy slowly steamed past. We were there for a few hours and so we had time to leap over the wall to swim in the warm turquoise waters of the lake. It was very refreshing as the heat was terrific. Once the South bound convoy was clear we heaved away and sailed on towards Port Said.
Next morning as we steamed between the lines of ships at Port Said, we lowered the two Canal boats into the water and dropped off the searchlight, the Agents boat came out with mail and papers.
We sailed past the statue of Ferdinand de Lesseps and out of the breakwater dropping off the Canal Pilot and into the Mediterranean.
We didn’t load any fresh water there so water was rationed. The Mate had a padlock on the pump and water was only allowed to be pumped for one hour in the morning and one in the evening, that suited me fine, save quite a bit of work.
The voyage to Birkenhead took 14 days along the Mediterranean and up the Atlantic coast. We picked up the Pilot at Point Lynus off Anglesey and on a cold grey Friday morning at the end of October and docked at the East Float in Birkenhead docks.
What a contrast Merseyside was with its forty shades of grey compared with the bright colours of the tropics, still it was good to be back.
The following day Saturday the Liverpool fellows and I went home for the weekend except the two Southampton Abs, when I got back on Monday morning the two of them had used every plate and piece of cutlery in the mess, they had not washed their own dishes, saving it all for me when I came back. Mush started to shout abuse again for not staying on board to look after them but when I threatened to throw him over the wall again he shut up.
We stayed in Birkenhead for ten days discharging the Manganese ore then we were to take her to Glasgow dry dock. I thought the breakers would have been more suitable.
On a cold wet windy day we sailed light ship, We cleared the Mersey Bar dropped the Pilot off and headed north into a screaming northerly gale which turned into a hurricane force 12. The ship being light was bouncing and rolling her guts out, after two days and nights we were off the North Wales coast making no headway. Eventually the gale eased and we crept up the coast to Glasgow four days out from Birkenhead. We entered the dry dock at 6 am and were paid of by 11am.
I paid off with £8 and a train ticket home, not bad for four months hard labour. I packed my bags and went down the gangway for the last time and into the taxi for Glasgow Station, I looked at the Commodore Grant for the last time as we moved away, lying in the dry dock, rusty and battered looking, I never saw her again, thank God.
Hope you enjoyed it.
Cheers
Brian