Volume 92, No.1

The Official Organ of the Seven Seas Club

Volume 92, No.1.

SUMMER 2016

1 OFFICERS

President – Mr. Stephen Wheatley

Immediate Past President – Capt. Chris Esplin-Jones CBE Vice President – Mr. Louis Roskell Hon. Secretary – Mr. Ray Kay Hon. Treasurer – Mr. Derek Bevan Hon. Membership & Dinner Secretary – Mr. Dominique Watson Hon. Almoner – Mr. Martin Earp Hon. Magazine Editor – Mr. John Callcut Hon. Archivist – Mr. David Watson Club Goods Custodian – Mr. Neil McAlpine Committee Members – Mr. Eugene Kelf & Mr. Stephen King,

Hon. Life Members – Mr. Paul Antrobus, Mr. George Kingston, Capt. David Matthews, Capt. Richard Woodman LVO., FRHistFNI, Mr. Ray Williams & Cdr. John Mankerty OBE., RN.

Committee Advisor on Historic and Protocol Matters and Father of the Club - Cdr. John Mankerty OBE., RN

Hon. Chaplains – Revd. Canon Paul Thomas OBE., & Revd. Peter Dennett

Hon. Auditor – Mr. M.J. Buck

The committee meets on the first Tuesday of each month throughout the ‘dinner season’.

2 CONTENTS

Editorial President and Past President’s Addresses Secretary’s Corner Almoner’s Report Dinner Secretary’s Report Club Dates and Speakers Obituary

Sister Clubs: Australia & South Africa

Dinner Photographs

Features A Yarn from Jim Killen (conclusion) MTB Veronica by Graham Capel A Maritime Odyssey in our Camper Van by John Callcut Liberty Ship St Helena a painting by Louis Roskell The Royal Navy Sword (conclusion) by Glyn L. Evans Extracts from the Cadet magazine discovered by Commander Mankerty Loss of HMS Black Prince by John Callcut

Slop Chest

Front Cover – This picture appeared on the front cover of the Seven Seas Shanty Book under the title ‘Rolling down to Rio’

3 EDITORIAL

Another year has passed and we say goodbye to Chris Esplin-Jones and we welcome Stephen Wheatley as our new President. We wish him well and hope that he encounters only smooth waters throughout his tenure.

I am very grateful to Jim Killen and Glyn Evans for providing regular articles for this magazine and I hope that you like Graham Capel’s story about his ‘Swinging London’. I know that everyone admires Louis Roskell’s wonderful paintings and I hope that you enjoy the seascape below and the painting of the Liberty Ship. Commander Mankerty’s loft keeps on producing interesting nuggets. What else have you got up there John? I have written about our trip to Finland last year as I encountered so much which I hope will be of interest to our members.

Our past President recently wrote to the Merseyside Maritime Museum. It was understood that an exhibition of Kenneth Shoesmith’s maritime paintings is being considered. As Shoesmith was a founder member of the Seven Seas Club, Chris wrote a letter endorsing the proposal, so it is hoped that the pictures which are currently stored in the Ulster Museum in Belfast will be exhibited in Liverpool and will be seen by a wider audience.

Over 65 people attended the cocktail party on the 10th June at the National Liberal Club, and pictures will appear in the next magazine.

We were very sorry to hear that club member, Perry Wilson, slipped his cable after a long battle with cancer on the 15th May.

.John Callcut – [email protected]

4 PRESIDENT’S ADDRESS

I would like to start by thanking the members for the Seven Seas Club for electing me as your President, it is a great honour and privilege.

I would like to thank Captain Christopher Esplin-Jones for proposing me, and the committee for their support and encouragement.

On your behalf I would like to take this opportunity to acknowledge the commitment of your committee and thank them for the hard work which goes on behind the scenes to ensure that the Club runs smoothly and that our dinners and events are so enjoyable.

During the coming year my aim is to preserve the traditions of the Club, help the Club prosper, and build on the work started by predecessors in expanding comradeship in the Club.

Whilst I am delighted to count so many members of the Club as friends already, I hope that I will get the opportunity to get to know more of you during my term as President.

With best wishes,

Stephen Wheatley

5 A FAREWELL FROM OUR PAST PRESIDENT

In reflecting on the past twelve months one realises how quickly it has gone - which is the best evidence of the privilege it has been to serve the Club in the role of President. The programme offered four evenings where members provided the entertainment re- introducing an old Club tradition: Commander John Mankerty OBE RN and Tim Sanders- Hewitt led the singing after the last AGM, the new Honorary Secretary, Ray Kay, brought to life an outstanding evening of poetry, Richard Quirk energised us conducting the carols, accompanied by the Honorary Treasurer, Derek Bevan, at our Christmas Dinner, and Glyn Evans gave a fascinating talk on Dazzle ships of WW1.

Our maritime talks included Professor Robert Grime on the legal aspects of the Perils of the Sea; Commander Julian Malec OBE RN spoke to us at Trafalgar Night on bravery, contrasting Admiral Nelson with Lieutenant Commander Ouvry disarming the German WW2 magnetic mine for the first time; and Captain Chris Clarke OBE, MN, whose daughter is a Chief Officer with experience of piracy at first hand, took us through fifty years of evolution in the practice of command at sea.

We heard Mr Anthony Harvey, the Honorary Secretary of the Maritime Foundation, offering a perspective about projecting seafaring in the UK for trade purposes, for the projection of power, and as a career. Finally at our Ladies Night in April we listened to a very reflective talk by the Executive Manager of Seafarers UK [which originated as King Georges Fund for Sailors], Mrs Robina Whitehorn. She ranged across changes in society, the vital operational role of women both in WW2 and afterwards, and the expectations and evolving skills of the next generation.

I would like to record my thanks to Dom Watson for organising the Club annual attendance at the Tower of London ceremony of the keys, Mrs Suzanne Kay for organising supper after the ANSS, and Commander Mankerty for bringing the usual team together to take part in the Merchant Navy Remembrance Day ceremony at Tower Hill.

During the year I awarded the Chip Leonard Anchor to Suzanne Kay, Louis Roskell, and Neil MacAlpine in recognition of their contributions to the running of the Club. The foundation of any club is the members of its committee, and we are fortunate in having a team of real enthusiasts such that our organisation, dinners, accounts, slop chest, magazine and ceremonies are managed superbly. I owe the committee grateful thanks for ensuring the year has been a real pleasure - and I extend very best wishes to my successor.

SECRETARY’S CORNER

I know how much you will miss my notices between now and September so here are some to help fill the gap.

Firstly, I would like to pass on my thanks to all members who came to our dinners over the last season and made them so enjoyable. I would also like to give personal thanks to John Mankerty for all of his help in handing over and his many years of dedicated service as Hon. Secretary. To Chris Esplin-Jones for his fine Presidency and leadership and not least to Dom Watson for all of his work in organising our dinners.

Richard Shuttleworth tells me that plans for an Ian Shuttleworth Memorial Fund are progressing. I understand the main purpose of the fund would be to help to pay the running costs of the Jubilee Sailing Trust's ships, especially The Lord Nelson which Ian worked so hard to raise money to finance. Knowing how popular Ian was in our club and what good work the ships do, I am sure we will want to support this in some way.

Finally, the usual Secretary's reminder that members are responsible for their guests at dinner. When you bring guests to share our club hospitality, please brief them properly on our routines. Please also point out that whilst we are relaxed about those who - due to age or medical issues - leave the table during dinner, other people doing so is not good manners and is discouraged. Do remember that we listen to our President and speaker in respectful silence and at the end ask only genuine questions posed to gain more information and we do not misuse the privilege of a question to contradict the speaker or give our own point of view.

I hope all members and your families enjoy a happy summer with warm and fair winds and flat seas.

Ray Kay - [email protected]

ALMONER’S REPORT

Every Christmas the club sends M & S vouchers to widows of former club members. Letters of thanks have been received from the following:

Best wishes from Betty Mackie. Thank you and the Seven Seas Club for the present – G.Bowie Please thank the club for the generous gift – Brenda Grundy Thank you so much for my M & S voucher – much appreciated – Rosemary Thorniley I would like to wish you all at the Seven Seas Club a happy Christmas – K. Joy Stock Thank you so much for your generous voucher which I am going to enjoy spending – Mara Jones With best wishes – Lynne Holland Thank you once again for your gift to me. I will look forward to spending it when I am more mobile – Mary Turner A big “thank you” to you and all the members of the Seven Seas Club for the voucher for Christmas – Pauline Cutler The words “thank you” always seem inadequate for the generosity of the Seven Seas Club, but once again I’m saying thank you to the President, the Committee and members for their generous gift. – Sylvia Dobinson Thank you for the voucher – Ellen Please thank the Seven Seas Club for their generous gift voucher. Last year’s was spent on some excellent white Burgundy, this year I might try their Macon Villages! – Eileen Hopton Please thank the Seven Seas for their generous gift. It did indeed put a smile on my face and give me a warm feeling that even though I don’t know the members they are thinking of me and other ladies in my position – Gill Curtis Martin, the generous gift token reached me safely along with your charming letter – Denise Johnson

DINNER SECRETARY’S REPORT

Yet another year has gone and what a bumper year for dinners and diners alike.

We have managed to keep the price the same this year as the last few years as the NLC have not increased the food cost to us.

Personally I think the food it both plentiful and of high quality with only a couple of hiccups on the way. If you have any problems or complaints do not hesitate to tell me.

One area that is currently causing a problem is for those who pay by BACS and then have to cancel for some reason or other, hoping that we can hold over their payment for another dinner. This causes a problem both accounting and for me – being able to remember - especially if you are unable to attend a dinner for several months. We are not able to monitor BACS payments in this way. It has therefore been agreed by Committee that the payment will be held over until the following month, if you cannot use it (providing you tell me) you can pay for a fellow member, otherwise the money will be put in the Laristan Fund.

For those who pay by cheque I hold on to the cheques and either use them for your dinner the next time you come, or inform you and, with your agreement, shred them or put them to the Laristan.

I hope that you will continue to enjoy the speakers that our Presidents organise for you. We are aware that sometimes there is a problem hearing the speaker and we do try and tell our speakers to use the microphones so that everyone can hear, but this is a continuous battle and one which we now think we have found a solution to. Hopefully the next year will prove it!

I look forward to seeing you all as and when you can attend. The next magazine will hold all the dates until the end of 2017. The Dinner Notice is only designed to tell you who is speaking and to be your booking form.

Finally I must thank you for paying in advance either by BACS or posting a cheque, (thankfully I now no longer go home with hundreds of pounds in my case), and for making the dinners such a success which makes my job all the more worthwhile.

On the membership side may I please remind you to advise me of any changes to e-mails and/or addresses so that I can keep the records up to date. The new Handbook will be published after the AGM and - if I have the wrong information - then I am afraid it will be printed with what I have.

My job starts when a new member has been voted on by the Committee, before that all enquiries/requests need to be addressed to the Hon Sec.

Dom Watson – [email protected]

9 CLUB DATES & SPEAKERS

29 September; Mr Ian Gilbert recent Commodore of the Association of Dunkirk Little Ships. He will talk about Operation Dynamo and the Little Ships of Dunkirk and focus on some of the ones that have survived.

20 October; Trafalgar Dinner, Admiral Sir Ian Forbes KCB CBE who served aboard HMS Glamorgan in the Falklands War with some of our present club members and rose to become Deputy Supreme Allied Commander Atlantic.

17 November; Speaker to be confirmed.

22 December; Christmas Party - Richard Quirk to lead the singing.

SISTER CLUBS - To find out what is happening at our sister clubs in Australia and South Africa, visit

Australia - http://sevenseasaustralia.com.au

South Africa – http:/simonstown.com/clubs/sevenseas/com

Club member Martyn Wheatley has recently visited Simonstown in South Africa and took these pictures.

10 DINNERS

Photographs: Dom Watson and John Callcut

17th December 2015 - Attendees 111

Suzanne Kay receives Ray Kay presents Lindsey the Chip Leonard Anchor Esplin-Jones with flowers

The club says thank you to the National Liberal Club’s ladies

28th January 2016 – Attendees 71

The President and our speaker Anthony Harvey who spoke about the Maritime Foundation

The piping party welcomes our guest Club ties are presented to Chris Hulbert (10 years), Robert McAlpine

25th February 2016 – Attendees 67

Our guest speaker Capt. C.J.W. Clarke OBE., RN. receives club cufflinks from the President. He spoke about ship handling, the paperless bridge and STUFT

31st March 2016 – Attendees 86

Our speaker, Glyn Evans, receives his New members receive their ties cufflinks Robin Mallam, Andy Merry, John Pollard & Mike Waller

Ladies Night, 29th April 2016 – Attendees 82 Chip Leonard Anchor – Neil McAlpine.

The President with our speaker Robina Whitehorn who spoke about Seafarers UK

AGM Dinner, 26th May 2016 – Attendees 83

Michael Rosoman, Bill Murray and Shep Woolley

Present and past Presidents

A Yarn from Jim Killen – Conclusion

Salvonia (Jim is standing on the starboard bridge wing)

In the morning we departed into an awkward lumpy swell and the decks of the tow are constantly awash. When in deep water the wire was streamed to its full length, the protective sleeves fitted and we ease up to towing power and course is set for our next stop, Fiji. We have already verified the daily fuel consumption/miles covered equation and the engines are set at about 70% power – so to have some reserve fuel in the tanks on arrival in Suva. Next morning at daylight and the tow is obviously down by the head. Her for’d part is practically awash.

Geordie Crawford is none too pleased – I’m not all that delighted either!

It later transpired that while in Panama the French engineers wanted to test each winch so had run the anchors back a few feet. This of course disrupted the cement plugs I had made and they, typical of the average, arrogant Frog, thinking their way was the only proper way, had re-plugged them with the old design of a disk of ply-wood covered with a handful or two of cement.

The pumping out that time took a bit longer and was a bit more fun with the deck of the tow submerging under the swells. Difficult to prevent damage to the work-boat when holding her alongside as the boarding swells tended to sweep the boat against the edge of the deck and there was some heavy scrapes by the time we had the Cingalaise dry once again. A few days after leaving Panama, we found the axis of the west-going current and the wind died .The swell gradually diminished until that too was no longer discernible. One of the very few times in my life when there was no discernable motion, no movement

14 at all in the sea. Day followed day under an almost cloudless sky and glassy sea. Night followed night under billions of brilliant stars, their pin-point brilliance reflected in the anthracite-jet water.

The shipboard routine became monotonous.

Awake at 03:40, on the bridge by 03:50, mugs of coffee, tea or cocoa, puff at a cigarette or two. Stars – six or seven of them – plotting – same speed as yesterday and the day before and the day before that, give or take a few tenths of a knot. Verify the deviation of the magnetic compass by amplitude of the sun as he rises past the theoretical horizon. Walk round the deck and examine the towing gear. Pick up the crash-landed flying-fish – the largest go into a bucket, undersized get chucked back overboard. Greet the cook, the second engineer and his greaser sitting, having their early morning smoke and mug of tea, by the towing bitts. Back on the bridge – send the A.B. to his duties below. Do some further navigational calculations. Fill in the log. Have a chat with the Bosun about the day’s work and before long Geordie is on the bridge, in the chartroom with dividers in his hand, measuring distances between star-fixes. Hand over to Geordie – nothing to report, same as yesterday and the day before and all the days before that.

Down on the aft deck and prepare the flying fish. Scrape off the scales, then off with the head and oversized fins. Slice down the back close to the back-bone – like a kipper. Open her up –remove the guts – remove the belly bones and most of the back-bone. Do two or three for myself and a couple for anyone else who wants fish for breakfast. Few do, most have already eaten. Dump the excess fish and the heads, bones and guts of the prepared ones. A coating of flour, a sprinkle of white pepper and a pinch of salt and they are sizzling and spitting in the pan. Use the oversized tail to turn once or, at most, twice. When the tail comes away from the rest, the fish is done. Dump the tail. The cook doesn’t like me in his galley – the cook doesn’t like me at all, full stop. He’s a dirty lazy bastard and I make his life unpleasant when I can, which is often. He cannot say anything though, for I always clean up any mess made.

Then breakfast - fried flying-fish and the butter melting on crispy fresh bread and mugs and mugs of tea and a chat with Hoefin-Loefin.

Eddie Merckx again.

Up to the radio shack and a chat with the Sparky to find out if there is anything interesting going on in the world. We have long been out of normal radio range. There’s never anything strange or startling going on. Then a couple of hours on whatever job I hadn’t finished the day before. I seldom bother shooting the sun at ten o’clock – I leave that sun- stuff to the Old Man and the Second Mate. Eleven o’clock and tidy up and stow whatever I’m doing – a quick shower and up to the bridge. Tear off the lid of a can of beer and a chat with Geordie and the Chief Engineer until noon when the Second Mate and the Old Man get involved with the intricacies of meridian passage and transferred position lines. I seldom bother to become involved in the ritual of noon sights– the Old Man is proficient enough and he’ll always decide that his sights are the better anyway. 15 Even if we are a mile or two off what the hell does it matter – we are many hundreds of miles to the nearest land and that is only a coral atoll anyway. No, my star sights, taken twice a day, morning and evening, are enough for me. Very occasionally, during the day, just for the hell of it, I’ll do a Venus-Sun-Moon fix or a Sun Tropical Fix. I have, two or three times in my life, managed a Tropical Fix with Venus.

Then lunch followed by the un-missable afternoon siesta.

Awake again in the full heat of the afternoon a quick shufti at how far the crew have progressed with their allotted work, eyeball the towing gear and show up on the bridge at about 15:50. Second Mates, as a breed, invariably develop the despicable art of avoiding becoming engaged in conversation at handover and will, without exception, zoom off the bridge within a nano-second or two of the striking of the hour.

Rapid handovers are their speciality.

Then, check the noon position and whatever the second mate has done during his watch. Stars-time will be the same as yesterday with an allowance for the difference in longitude. Calculate the altitudes of the stars that will be shot that evening and the time blocks to shoot them in. Note the azimuths. Get the plotting sheet ready. Peruse through the log – nothing extraordinary noted again.

Relax – watch the world go by.

Haul out the .22, insert the bolt and a full clip. Try to down a flying-fish or two – with their curving flight they were very difficult to hit. Sure the bullet splashes were invariably within a foot and nearly always within an inch or two as the target zoomed by, skimming over the flat-calm ocean. Good enough shooting but somehow never good-enough, never really good enough at all. The few fish executed by my .22 were insignificant when compared to the buckets full that had committed suicide every night by flying full pelt against any vertical part of the tug or sometimes arriving in a slithering, flapping, crash- landing on deck. The occasional living target practice would end with the second mate arriving to relieve me for the evening meal. If the conditions were right I’d ask him to get an amplitude of the sun but he seldom bothered. He seldom would show any interest in rapid plotting either.

You really need a team of three to rapid plot. One with the sextant, one noting the chronometer and doing the arithmetic and the third plotting. You can, when rapid plotting and using pre-computed altitudes, have a position on the chart within fifteen seconds or less of the third star being shot. Further shooting just confirms the first three or resolves the doubt if one of those is a bit off. Rapid plotting can be done with two or even just the one person but then it takes just that much longer to prepare and is hardly worth the effort of pre-computing the altitudes.

Still, I’d ask him, “Fancy doing a few stars? Quick-fix?”

16 He invariably had a game of cards on the go or urgently needed a shit or some other excuse would be presented and I’d shoot the bloody things myself, on my own. Stars shot and the position fixed on the chart, compasses compared, log filled in and at ten to eight Geordie is on the bridge. Hand over and yarn with him for half an hour or so then go below and a beer or two drunk with the Second Engineer before turning in at about 21:30 ready for the next morning’s watch at 04:00. So the days merged into weeks, the sea never changing, only the weekly routine of launching the boat to inspect the tow on Saturday mornings and the lack of activity on deck on a Sunday to break the monotony. Not a ship did we see, not a light at night, not a speck of flotsam or weed, not a bird of any description, except for flying-fish and us the whole planet was empty and deserted.

Then, one morning, in the shadow of the tug, way deep, within in the sheen of the unbreaking bow-wave, a whale! Apart from flying fish, the first sign of any life at all since shortly after leaving Panama. This one was deep, so deep at first I thought it a fish of about mackerel size, vague and ghostly, undulating in the filtered sunlight. The water was clearer than crystal.

Geordie Crawford shows up and I call him to have a look. By this time the whale had moved into line with the edge of the crest of the bow-wave and is difficult to see at first.

Geordie spots it and gives a low whistle. “Aye, Jimmy! A whale” says he.

I have finished breakfast and the blow is spotted, way off and three points abaft the beam. Even without binoculars its back and head are clearly visible in the sheet of mirrored glass of the ocean surface. I cannot make out what species it might be though, not even with binoculars. Then the tail lifts clear and it is gone.

Excitement over for the day.

Then the time comes when we must alter course to the south-west and forgo the gentle westerly shove that the current has been giving us. A new course is steered, a few points to the south and the east coast of Fiji is dead ahead, a few miles yet to go but things are changing.

Within a half a day there is a change in the water, it loses some of its intense blue and there are signs of life. Weed and flotsam is encountered, cloud cover is increasing and, Oh Lord! The first cats-paws on the water. The first breeze in weeks! Then later, much later, the first shower and the first wavelets. Then a sea-bird or two – sure sign that land is not too far away.

One afternoon, massing cumulonimbus on the horizon – and a freshening breeze.

I’m on watch the next morning – the vague outline of land is showing up on the maximum range of the radar and, yup! The first ship in weeks, the first since leaving Panama, shows her navigation lights above the horizon and I can claim the case of beer. Suva is a lovely town where the police run around in their lava-lava kilts. The Fijians are lovely people,

17 dignified, proud, friendly and full of life. I would have liked to spend more time there. However, I have little time to spend socialising as there is sufficient going on to keep me occupied. After securing the tow alongside close astern of the tug the towing-gear has to be inspected.

A hundred, or more, large fishing hooks and lengths of strong fishing line have to be extradited from the big towing nylon, long-line fishermen’s gear caught foul in out towing gear. I leave the crew at that wee activity – they will make good use of the fishing gear – lines and hooks that would be dangerous to leave festooned around our own gear.

Then there is the Mail that has to be dished out. Then there are stores and provisions that have to be boarded, checked, itemised and stowed. Fuel tanks are, as ever, filled to 98% and our water tanks filled to overflowing! Then there is the tow that has to be inspected and harbour-watch routine organised. We will depart at daylight so there is to be but one night ashore!

Amid yowls of protest from the sailor, the one who had chickened-out from the second trip in the work-boat as he is, again, “volunteered” to act as night-watchman for both tug and tow. Departure, in the dim of the following dawn is a simple enough job. A tug – a large harbour launch really - is nudging her bow-fender on the tow’s side, pushing at maximum power, holding our tow pinned against the quay while our crew let go, stow and lash her mooring lines. Then a quick dash along the quay to release our own lines before jumping onto our towing deck.

The engines are rung “Dead Slow Ahead” and we ease away from the quay and turn to head seaward – the tow meekly following. The trip to Noumea is mainly in fair weather – some heavy squalls but nothing too exciting.

Then, early one morning and something just isn’t as it should be. The flashing beam from a lighthouse should have been just visible as I came on watch at 04:00. A lighthouse indicating an extended stretch of almost awash coral and a low sandy Islet with a few palm trees should have been visible.

Nothing!

Nothing but absolute blackness in the direction where it should be – maybe hidden by the rain in a squall I’m thinking. There are a lot of squalls about and the radar is showing a lot of heavy rain-cloud activity on all ranges. It is too easy to hide a light behind a rain squall and a low lying coast may not always be distinguishable from a shower on the radar screen. However it did not feel right – I’ll give it another few miles I’m thinking, see if it starts to show. For awhile I’m either glued to the radar, scanning the horizon with my binoculars or checking the echo sounder.

Then it starts to rain, visibility is down to less than a half-mile! “Damn this!” I’m thinking.

18 Then, “O.K. time’s up!” – I go and call the Old Man.

Geordie is soon on the bridge and is checking everything – he knows I wouldn’t call him for nothing and is also puzzled by the non-appearance of the light. Around the Pacific Islands there are often unpredictable currents and vortices that have been the root cause of many a well found ship ending up grinding her bottom to bits on a coral reef. Low-lying land is often difficult to distinguish from the heavy rain-echo of a tropical squall.

‘Dead Slow’ is rung on the telegraph.

Our speed soon drops to a bit more than one knot. Neither of us are in anyway certain of our position – the Second Mate is called to give an account of what went on during his watch. Nothing extraordinary went on from midnight to four a.m. he reports. Power/speed and compass comparisons indicated no abnormality. I am the first to notice the strange glow fine on our port bow - our missing lighthouse should be showing up on starboard!

It takes us a few moments to come to the conclusion that it is the beam of the light-house, but it is stationary and shining away from us. There is a lighthouse and the light is shining bright and strong but the motor that rotates the beam does not seem to be working. Only the reflection of the beam, shining on rain and clouds, is discernable from our position, not a flash from that lighthouse is there to be seen. A bearing and an eventual radar echo from some low-lying land indicates that we are well off our course line and much too close to a few reefs for safety.

Course is altered to accommodate our newly found position and allow for the current that had been setting us towards disaster. Then the entrance to the harbour of Noumea – tropical islets with coconut palms leaning over white coral sand, idyllic, beautiful, crystal- clear water – the sort of place usually depicted on “Wish You Were Here” type postcards and advertisements for chocolate covered coconut bars. The entrance to Noumea must rank as one of the top ‘beautiful harbour entrances’ in the world.

After bringing our tow to anchor and recovering our gear the tow is removed from alongside by harbour tugs. We remain at anchor and I do not accept the invitation to go ashore with Geordie Crawford, the Chief Engineer and the Sparky – it had been a long day and my bunk is calling. Nearly everyone else is in the boat as I run them ashore to the Noumea Yacht Club landing stage. Strict instructions are given – there will be but one return boat and that will be at the landing stage, prompt, at midnight.

Miss the return boat and stay ashore until breakfast time the next morning. I return with the boat and hoist it just clear of the water – ready for re-launch and recover the Old Man and the rest in a few hours time. I’m then heading for my cabin and call to the Second Mate, “Give me a call at eleven!” before laying down, still fully clothed, on top of my bunk. I’d get a few hours kip then be woken by the Second Mate. I’d then take the work- boat to the Noumea Yacht Cub landing stage at midnight, prompt, and pick up the bunch that had gone ashore earlier that evening.

19 It had been a long day and I was dog-tired.

It was the sunlight of early morning streaming through my port-hole that woke me. I’m thinking that the Second Mate must have taken the boat to the Yacht Club and picked everyone up.

“Nice of him to let me sleep”. I’m thinking. I head for the showers.

It is almost breakfast time and there is no cook to be seen in the galley and there is no sign of the bosun nor are any of his boys up and about, the radio hut is locked and there is no sign of the Sparky. In fact there are no souls to be seen at all! Just me and a greaser and the Second Mate who, after a few hours in his bunk the previous afternoon had volunteered to act as night-watchman.

I go and question the second mate.

“You said to call you at seven – you were awake at that time and I’m now going to bed!” is his response.

“Shit!” I’m thinking, “I’ll be nobody’s pal this morning” and set off, in the work-boat, to pick up the bunch that were waiting under the large beach-umbrellas at the Noumea Yacht Club.

Apparently it had hardly stopped raining the whole night. Heavy, tropical thunderstorm rain and, even under the umbrellas, they were all, within a very short time, soaked and cold. Yes indeed, I was nobody’s friend that day, nor was anyone very pally with me for some time after that. That day we moved alongside – full bunkers and stores as usual. Then, a night ashore for me and too much headache-inducing local hooch.

The next day there are garbled reports about a vessel ashore on the uncharted reefs north of New Caledonia.

We set off to investigate.

After a few hours it transpires that our casualty is about the size of a large launch and is being pounded to pieces in the surf on the coral reef – the crew are on board another fishing boat. Not worth the effort – we stop engines and drift. Lines are soon rigged – and fish are being landed - fish of every shape, size and colour. The instructions are, as ever, “Any fish that is not destined for the pan is to be chucked back straight away, alive and unharmed – sharks excluded”. Shark were hated and any that where caught and hauled a’board were battered to death before being chucked back. The other sharks would then tear the dead one to pieces – a savage, awe-inspiring melee that served to accentuate our loathing for these killing machines. Usually the shark that we caught were between five and seven feet long. Occasionally a much larger thing would be sighted but that one was too shy to take our baited hooks.

20 There then followed a time of confusion, first we were directed to “Proceed economical Darwin” and off we went in that direction. Then “Stay where you are.” is received and we drift for a day or so then Melbourne was to be our next stop and we again set off at “economical” in that direction. Finally came news of an American ship the Kentuckian in trouble about three hundred miles off the Island of Guam.

An American Naval tug was standing by the casualty.

Off we go at maximum power towards the new job. It turns out that she wasn’t in any real trouble but her propeller had fallen off during a bit of a blow some time previous. Americans, except when the situation is almost unsalvable, are renowned for being exceedingly reluctant to sign any “Open salvage-agreement”. There are negotiations ongoing between the Yank’s owners and Overseas Towage as we steam at our maximum power towards the Kentuckian. Except for the very frequent rain shower and occasional tropical squall the weather is fine; there is very little sea or swell and soon enough the masts and superstructure of the ‘freighter’ - as the Yanks call that sort of vessel - is sighted on the horizon and dead ahead.

Two echoes are visible on the radar screen. One the casualty, the other the American Naval tug. A nasal American accent calls us on V.H.F. and curtly enquires who we are – on hearing that we are the tug Salvonia and we are to connect to the Kentuckian the Yankee tug sets off in the direction of Guam – neither “Bon Voyage – Good luck” nor any other greeting or well-wishing is exchanged. Bad mannered bastards is our opinion.

In flat calm conditions we connect to her port anchor chain. They had disconnected and hung-off the port anchor and wanted us to tow on her anchor cable. For various reasons, connected to a vessel’s own anchor cable is often not the best way for a large tug to tow a casualty. However they had read the American towing instruction book and had gone to a lot of trouble prepare things for us. So with our own pendant and towing nylon rigged and the pendant connected to their anchor cable we set off towards Guam – the nearest port of any size.

Next morning and I find that our course had been altered – we were now towing towards Hong Kong. There was no Salvage Contract signed so the bonus for the towage of this casualty would be our, minimal, “Towage Miles Supplement”

O.K.! A Salvage contract would have given us a better bonus but we often would have to wait, sometimes for years, before getting our share of any “Salvage Money”. Towage bonus payments on the other hand were received at the end of each voyage. The shortest direct route from where we where would have taken us north of the Philippines, but there had been a lot of unstable meteorological conditions reported East from the Philippines and the decision was made to thread our way through those islands and to try to keep out of the path of any TRS or Typhoon that may be developing.

Within the stretches of water of the Islands of the Philippines we were, almost continually, in heavy tropical rain. We had shortened up our towing gear so that the wire, in a long

21 gentle bight, just skimmed the surface of the water – there was no swell in the inside route so a full stretch of gear was not necessary. Much shorter gear and our wash would have a detrimental effect on our progress. It would force slip-water against the tow, causing more resistance and make her sheer. Pitch black and the visibility seriously restricted by the incessant, heavy, tropical rain.

We are in one of the narrower passages and there are dozens and dozens of wee fishing boats about. Boats with outriggers and a wee stubby mast – boats where the occupants are all fast asleep under canvas – drifting – no one awake and on lookout! We are continually blasting out warnings on our fog-horn and the big searchlight is trained on our tow. I never noticed any of these craft, not a one, trying to take any avoiding action. That is until our tow-wire was actually scraping their hull or topsides or mast or the tug was nudging them to one side.

There were too many to contemplate a radical alteration of course for a boat dead ahead, for that would only have put another dozen or so directly in our path. Instead we only alter when we are about to run a boat down, then resume course as our bow passes a few feet clear. The weight on the tow-wire will then tend to ease the tug back and the wee fisherman would then scrape along our sides.

Traumatic – for the, no longer asleep, fishermen!

Eventually we slow right down and shorten in our towing gear so that it is leading in a very shallow catenary direct from our towing winch to the bows of the Kentuckian. Even so we still manage to nudge a few wee boats to the side. Our tow, the Kentuckian does the same but the lowest part of our tow-wire is just under the height of their masts.

In passing, the wire scrapes along the mast and rigging of quite a few – then there are faces in the searchlight beam and yells in the distance. Then, as the wee boat drifts aft, the wire is leading upwards and clears of their wee stubby mast, but the Kentuckian is now bearing down on them.

I honestly do not think we sank any of those wee fishing boats with their fragile outriggers, stubby wee masts and crab-claw sails, but I’m certain that quite a few of those fishermen will never forget the night the Salvonia towed the Kentuckian through their fishing grounds. The rain ceased as we entered the South China Sea but the skies remained heavily overcast. Neither sun nor stars were ever sighted so, as ever, positioning was restricted to R.D.F. and guesswork. Then there are junks all about – big, sea-going junks, junks that are completely oblivious of any rule of the road and never ever show a light at night, junks all around us and the hills of distant China are low on the Northern horizon.

Geordie Crawford had spent many years in these waters and knew every distant hilltop and close-by islet and rock by name. He knew the currents and the channels with recourse to neither book nor chart. He knew all the wee ports and places where a tug could hide or shelter from a typhoon, he also knew the pilot who came on board while we were in the

22 East Lammas Channel – this Hong Kong Chinese pilot had been second mate on the previous Salvonia with Geordie many years previous.

At anchor in Hong Kong and we soon get rid of our tow.

She is taken directly to dry-dock where it is discovered that her propeller, the one that fell off, was wedged between her sole bar and her rudder! The question was, would we too go for dry-docking, our Class Survey was long overdue and the certificates that had remained valid until arrival at the following port had expired. Or would we go on Salvage Station – there were a number of tropical disturbances building up in the Western Pacific and at least one job would be expected during that Typhoon Season.

Then came the word – Class and the insurance underwriters were not being flexible – we had to be dry-docked for our bottom, rudder and stern gland survey.

O.K. boys – “Get packed we are going home!”, was the word.

It never takes a sailor long to pack his gear. I carefully dismember my rifle – I knew that the Hong Kong Authorities were a bit twitchy about firearms so had not declared it on my Customs Declaration. The barrel was packed separately from the stock and the rest.

I’d used up the last of the 2000 rounds of Remington .22 Long-rifle ammunition on our transit of the Philippines.

Dry-docking the Salvonia proved a mistake for within a day of our departure a typhoon hit Hong Kong and quite a few ships broke adrift and ended up on the beaches and rocks around Hong Kong – expired Class certificates would be of little concern as long as we did not proceed to sea – most of the casualties occurred in Hong Kong waters.

The flight back to Blighty, apart from a very bumpy start was uneventful.

In Heathrow I reassembled and handed my rifle to the Customs – to be held in their care until I could get the .22 added to my gun-licence. The additional gun on my licence took a visit to the Cambria Street police station in Belfast. Then after another week or so I, along with my younger brother, Richard, duly arrived at Her Majesty’s Warehouse next to the V.I.P. gate one sunny afternoon.

Well, I did not know that Charlie himself was due to land in Heathrow that afternoon.

I did not know of the whereabouts of the V.I.P. entrance and most of all I did not know that someone had threatened to shoot poor Charlie. I could not, at first, understand why all those policemen got so very excited – after all even if it was fitted with telescopic sights, the firing pin was in my wallet, there was no ammo and it was only a small-bore .22 rifle anyway.

But that is another yarn – maybe, sometime in the future, I’ll tell ye more….

MTB ‘Veronica’ by Graham Capel

My first ship – as opposed to the two speedboats which I had previously owned to learn to water-ski in the English Channel, was an MTB – Motor Torpedo Boat. She was 72 foot long, made of double diagonal planking, but the best thing was that she was moored on Chelsea Reach close to the Kings Road in London where my main interest, as a 23 year old, was coffee bars, jazz clubs and London nightlife in the 1960s, and girls. In fact Veronica was our ‘London Pad’ and was a bus ride from the 2Is club in Soho where we saw the embryonic Beatles from Liverpool, the Café des Artistes and Humphrey Littleton’s Jazz Club in Oxford Street, plus Chelsea girls in particular.

I found Veronica advertised in the ‘Thursday bible’, Exchange and Mart, for £1000. This was a lot of money in the early 1960s when I was only earning £100 per month as a trainee surveyor for Lloyds of London. However it was a ‘London Pad’ so all obstacles had to be overcome to achieve it. I sold my Triumph TR2, used my annual bonus and went to talk to my local bank manager for the balance.

This was my first experience of trying to borrow money from a bank, and it proved very problematic. My sum total was £600 so I needed another £400. But Mr. Crossthwaite, the bank manager, did not think that my MTB in London was a sound proposition – and in truth he was quite right as you will learn. He wanted the equivalent of £2,000 in security to advance £400, plus guarantees from BOTH my parents! I thought that this was unreasonable and extortionate, but now with the benefit of age and experience I must say I can see his point of view! However, I was determined and eventually my mother - who was a good supporter of my wilder ideas - lent me the money, subject to doubling my weekly contribution for living at home. She had the foresight to know that I would be coming home most weekends to get my washing done and a serious Sunday lunch to sustain me for the week ahead in London on the boat.

So, armed with £1,000 I bought the boat. She was unconverted. By unconverted I mean totally unconverted. All three berths still had the bunks with sides which folded up to keep the crew from falling out in rough weather. The kitchen was still a ‘galley’ with a primus stove and cold box for a fridge. In modern terms she would be described as an un-restored masterpiece.

24 In 1963 she was a challenge! We took up residence, Pete, Timmo and myself. The first thing we discovered was that the Rolls Royce Merlin V12 engines had long since gone and the engine bay accommodated the rising tide. The tide came in through the transom and left the same way. It cost me £240 to have the transom repaired so that the tide no longer came in, but the engine bay, large as it was, was still unusable and full of mud. So, we closed off the door and left it that way. I had bought Veronica in September and Autumn on the Thames was idyllic for three young ‘men about town’. Chatting up young ladies in the coffee bar of the Kings Road was very successful when they found out that we lived on a boat on the Thames. ‘What is an MTB?’ was the usual response. ‘Come back and find out’ was our reply… and they did! Interestingly the first girl who did not scream when we pulled up the gang plank - and it was just a plank, removing their escape route - was called Veronica! She stayed for some time and reorganised the kitchen into something more realistic, with a fridge and a gas two-burner hot plate. The pump toilet was replaced with a modern version although still pumped. Our main pastime was catching river ducks with fishing rods, with slip knots and a lump of bread tied to the bottom. This was occasionally successful and a wet, muddy flapping duck was hauled on board, although none of us was brave enough to cook and eat it. Usually they were not even harmed and flapped a lot, and when released flew away angrily leaving the foredeck covered with muddy splats. Seagulls were the other messy problem and we frequently had to ‘swab down’ the decks before inviting any young ladies back for coffee.

It all ended, for me at least, in late November just as the London fogs and water mists were taking hold. Lloyds transferred me to Jamaica. It probably saved my life, as Pete and Timmo stayed on board throughout the winter and nearly caught pneumonia. When I returned in April, spring on the Thames in London was beautiful with the trees on the embankment in new leaf. Things had now moved on for me. I had a better salary as an international Lloyds surveyor. I even paid my mother back. Pete and Timmo, having only just survived the winter, announced that they were moving to dry land in Notting Hill Gate. So Veronica needed to be sold. With my new girlfriend, a dinghy and 50 gallons of reduced price ex-navy battleship grey paint, I spent the next four weekends repainting her from stem to stern. I must admit that she did look smart at the end, apart from a few splodge on the Thameside wall where I spilled the remains of a tin of paint when the lid was not secured.

I re-advertised Veronica in the Exchange and Mart which worked again, and she sold for £1,100. A profit of £100! However, that was not taking into account the £240 for the transom work or the monthly mooring fees, which Pete and Timmo failed to pay on the grounds that the accommodation was uninhabitable and they were acting as caretakers anyway. Nevertheless it had been a great experience.

A few months later I was passing Chelsea Reach and stopped to look at my happy mooring (hunting) ground. Veronica was gone! I scrambled over the rafted boats to a neighbour who was a real Navy Commodore retired. He old me that the new owners had patched her up and then towed her out of the moorings (so she did float). She had been towed down the Thames to the estuary where Screaming Lord Sutch had occupied the WW2 forts and threatened to declare independence. There Veronica had been blown up, watched by several film cameras,

25 to feature in a subsequent WW2 film. What a sad and ignominious ending to such a fine vessel. If I knew the film I could at least pay my last respects. I never knew her MTB number.

The new owner of the mooring on Chelsea Reach brought in a 100 ft Dutch barge and proceeded to build a three storey air conditioned fully automated five bedroom houseboat now worth a fortune. Why did I not think of that? Hindsight never makes any money! As for Veronica, she is probably a grandmother by now!

Recently I found that there are other MTB houseboats at Shoreham on the South Coast, but I have ‘done that’ now so do not need to do it again. But it is tempting!

Graham Capel Ex-Captain MTB Veronica

Note from the Editor.

MTB 219 which was built in Portsmouth in 1941 has been completely rebuilt by engineer, Paul Childs and is now moored at Bridgewater.

Readers might be interested to see this original picture of MTB 102 which has also been preserved.

26 A Maritime Odyssey in our Camper Van by John Callcut

Some of you may be aware that I play table tennis quite seriously. Last summer I was playing in the European Veterans Championship in Tampere (Finland), and my wife and I decided to drive there in our camper van. The trip took in a total of ten countries and we covered 3,500 miles. Naturally we used a number of ferries and saw quite a lot of shipping which I thought might be of interest to our readers.

We left Dover on P & O’s Maid of Kent and just as we left we saw the My Ferry’s Rodin which at the time was laid up awaiting her fate pending the negotiations with DFDS. We stayed with friends in Belgium, then more friends in Holland, and then visited Potsdam and Berlin. We drove north to the old Hanseatic port of Sczcecin which was formerly the German town of Stettin. This is a picturesque city with an important port and shipyard. As we walked along the road by the naval academy and next to the water we heard a band strike up and the Polish submarine Sep (295) was just leaving harbour

From there we drove across northern Poland to Gdańsk. This was formerly the Free City of Danzig and is a truly remarkable place. Following almost total destruction during World War Two, the communists rebuilt it in exactly the same style as former times, so that as you wander along the streets it is hard to imagine that the buildings are not hundreds of years old. Do go if you ever have the chance. The town lies on the Motława River which flows into the Baltic Sea and for centuries has been an important trading centre.

27 The great crane has been renovated. It dates from 1442-1444 and was designed to lift cargo and erect masts. It remained as a working crane until the middle of the nineteenth century.

The Great Crane at Gdańsk m.v Sołdek

Opposite the great crane is the preserved ore and coal carrier Sołdek which was originally built in the Gdańsk (Formerly Lenin) Shipyard. Of course it was in the Gdańsk shipyard that the Solidarity movement was founded by Lech Wałeşa , and we took a boat trip to view the actual site.

The Gdańsk Shipyard

We then sailed across the Baltic to Nynashamn - which is south of Stockholm in Sweden - on the Polferry’s Wawel. The ship has had a long career, having originally been built in Sweden in 1979. We enjoyed an excellent meal in the somewhat bizarrely named ‘Langan’s Brasserie’.

m.s, Wawel

We then drove up the east coast of Sweden, enjoying the stunning scenery and empty roads. We took the ferry Ulvon to Trysunda and Ulvohamn and got absolutely soaked when we were caught in teeming rain mid-way on a long walk. It was worth it, as the scenery was tranquil and beautiful. We went on to the museum at Gammlia and saw the preserved tug Egil which was built in 1914.

Ferry Ulvon Preserved tug Egil at Gammlia

We continued driving north until we reached the town of Umeǻ, where we caught the Wasa Express to Vaasa in Finland. The Wasa Express was built in Finland in 1981.

m.s. Wasa Express Our camper on board the Wasa Express

We spent a week in Tampere for the table tennis before heading towards Helsinki. Helsinki is a very beautiful city with a busy harbour, lots of renovated ships and a lively waterfront market. It was here that I encountered my one problem with driving. I had to

29 stop at some lights as pedestrians were crossing, but I realised that I was sitting in a tram lane with a tram, bells a’ringing, bearing down upon me. Fortunately the light turned green and I escaped - but would the tram have stopped? Who knows!

Steamer J.L.Runeberg from 1912 with the ten year old square rigged sailing ship Gerda behind at Helsinki

Having survived that little scrape, we parked the camper and took the St. Peter’s Line Princess Maria to St. Petersburg. The splendour of the city was breathtaking and the Russian people we met were very friendly. They seem to be very pro-Putin, especially those who remember the Soviet era. They believe that he has transformed Russia. They are bemused by, and resent, the Western sanctions as they believe that the Ukraine is their problem not ours. Just walking along the Nevsky Prospekt and experiencing a different world was an uplifting experience. We returned to Helsinki on the same ship, which had a nice display of pictures of the Romanovs including Princess Maria (the murdered daughter of Tsar Nicholas II).

Princess Maria

We said goodbye to Helsinki and sailed on the wonderful Silja Line Silja Symphony to Stockholm. My wife was very impressed with the shipping mall which ran the entire length of the ship. I was more impressed with the restaurant – ‘The 7 Seas’!

Silja Symphony Shopping onboard

The 7 Seas Restaurant on board the Silja Symphony

As we left Helsinki for Stockholm we saw the Costa Luminosa which has a gross tonnage of 92,700 tons. Although she looks similar to the ill-fated Costa Concordia, she entered service later, in 2009, and the design was a hybrid. She has not been without controversy as Swedish television reported that she was dumping toilet waste into the sea which they claimed amounted to five million litres of waste per cruise!

Costa Luminosa

31 If you go to Stockholm, be sure to visit the Vasamuseet where you will see the preserved Vasa and the superb accompanying exhibition. I can remember as a young man being told about this by my Scandinavian boss, and I always had a desire to actually see her.

The Vasa foundered and sank on her maiden voyage in 1628. She was constructed on the orders of Gustavus Adolphus, the King of Sweden, and was built to impress. Unfortunately, she foundered as soon as she encountered a breeze and sank just outside Stockholm harbour. (the Mary Rose had sunk in the Solent approximately 80 years before). She was discovered in 1961 and was raised – having not suffered nearly as much deterioration as the Mary Rose, because shipworm is not present in the Baltic Sea. She was sprayed with polyethylene glycol for seventeen years and then in 1988 was moved to her present, purpose-built site. The carvings are very precise, and even remnants of paint could be examined and analysed. As a result a model has been built and painted which gives you a good idea as to how impressive the vessel was. The accompanying exhibition is well laid out and is truly fascinating.

I took the following pictures which give a clear view of the Vasa.

THE VASA

A model of the Vasa showing the elaborate decoration

Upon leaving the exhibition it is possible to enjoy a display of restored ships in the nearby harbour. The ss.Sankt Erik was built in 1915 and was the city ice-breaker. She had a refit in 1958 when the bridge was enclosed to protect the crew. The 1966 built Patrol/Torpedo boat Spica (T121) was on display and a group of very knowledgeable enthusiasts were happy to chat and show off the ship.

s.s. Sankt Erik Spica

The a f Chapman is now a hostel with 285 beds but she was formerly the full rigged, steel ship Dunboyne (1888-1915) and G.D. Kennedy ( - 1923)

a f Chapman G. D. Kennedy under sail

Many years ago I used to work for a company based in Malmö and in those days you flew to Copenhagen and took the ferry across to Malmö. (It was on board one of these ferries that I sampled my first smörgåsbrod and tasted herring with a creamy dill sauce – fabulous!) Now there is the Øresund Bridge which is a 16 km direct link between the two cities and transit cost is about £24.00.

After this, we drove through Denmark and Germany and had a very moving visit to the Reichsvald Forest War Cemetery at Cleves on the Dutch border. My uncle, Flt. Sgt. Jack S. Callcut, was flight engineer on a Lancaster that was shot down during a bombing raid on Mulheim on the 22nd June 1943. He together with his crew are buried there along with 8000 other young men.

We then headed for Calais and after a two hour delay we boarded the Spirit of Dover and headed on home.

Spirit of Dover

Our trip this year through France and on to Spain did not afford such rich maritime subject matter. We saw a few ferries at Dover and some houseboats on the Seine. At the marina in Alicante there was a reproduction of the Santisima Trinidad. The original four decker with 140 guns was the pride of the Spanish fleet. During the Battle of Cape St. Vincent in 1797 she was badly damaged and narrowly escaped capture but at Trafalgar she did not fair so well and was captured; she was lost during the great post battle storm whilst under tow. (Jim Killen wouldn’t have allowed that to happen!) The reproduction was originally a merchant ship and fitted to mimic the Santisima Trinidad in 2006. I failed dismally to find more material for the magazine and had to content myself with a picture of Lord Nelson tea bags!

Santissima Trinidad

‘Lord Nelson’ camomile tea

We did encounter a bit of a surprise on our trip, though. We were watching a folk style pantomime in Aranjuez and we were very taken aback to see our venerable treasurer, Derek Bevan, dressed up in an Elizabethan costume complete with ruff.! (On closer inspection though, it wasn’t Derek after all…..)

The Liberty Ship Saint Helena by Louis Roskell

My apprenticeship with the South American Saint Line finished with a voyage as third officer on the Saint Helena, an American built WW2 Liberty Ship. She had originally been named Samloyal, and was one of more than 2,400 ships of this class which had survived the war out of a total of 2,711 built in eighteen US shipyards. To counter the heavy losses of British merchant shipping, replacement ships had to be built very quickly and this was achieved by using prefabrication techniques based on those advocated by American industrialists such as Henry Kaiser. All ships supplied to the British were named with the prefix “Sam”, hence their alternative appellation “Sam Boats”.

Said to have been built to last for about five years, the ship was certainly past her best when I sailed on her some fourteen years after her completion in the Bethlehem Fairfield Shipyard, Baltimore, in April 1944. Her three cylinder triple expansion steam engine could just about push her along at 8.25 knots and the voyage to South America and back took about a month longer than those made by her more modern counterparts in the Saint Line fleet.

The picture shows her, light ship, heading from Buenos Aires up the River Parana to Rosario, where she loaded bulk grain for continental ports. I left her in Rotterdam.

Ed. She was scrapped in 1963.

The Royal Navy Sword (Part 2) by Glyn L. Evans

One day, at the end of November 2011, under a dark grey sky with a drenching drizzle driven horizontal by a strong on-shore wind, I paid a visit to Britannia Royal Naval College, Dartmouth. I had been invited there to see at first hand the officer cadets being put through their paces at sword drill, and I was relieved on arrival to find that the prevailing weather conditions were not going to interfere with the schedule. Having gone through the standard MoD security check at the Gatehouse (passport, mug-shot etc) and been issued with my ID tag, I was met by Dave Copeland, Chief of Parade, and escorted on a preliminary tour of the main building. Dominating the Dartmouth town landscape, this splendid edifice houses the administration offices, quarterdeck (to be saluted) with gallery, dining hall, chapel, shop and lecture rooms.

We walked out through the main doors in the centre of the building (a privilege denied the officer cadets until completion of their passing out parade) down the imposing stone steps on to the Parade Ground. From the steps one has a spectacular panoramic view over the River Dart to the wooded hills opposite, or so I was told; by this time a brief break in the weather was threatening to close down. The white ensign stood out stiffly from the top of the flag mast as a division of officer cadets formed up in three ranks, caps jammed on tight against the wind, awaiting orders from the Royal Marine drill sergeant.

“Right turn. Quick march” The division set off across the parade ground, passing in front of the College steps from the top of which, on Passing Out parades, the salute is taken. Two turns up and down served as a warm-up and an opportunity for some (referred to as “muppets” by the drill sergeant) to recall that when the left foot goes forward, the left arm goes back. The ragged formation began to take shape; marching was now in a straight line and the set distance between the man in front and the one alongside maintained.

While there is no time for the officer cadets to stand and stare, the visitor cannot fail to be impressed by the Parade Ground setting. The main building, so high, wide and handsome, deserves time spent on taking it all in. The central steps are flanked by stone archways supporting the wide balustraded patio and on two squares of lawn either side proudly stand the figureheads of “Britannia” (larger than life with a haughty air) and RY “Osbourne” sporting the Royal Coat of Arms. The building’s central tower houses a large clock and, as one would expect, the hours and half-hours chime out to the ship’s systems of bells so that, at 11.30am, seven bells (three pair and a single) rang out.

Time for the officer cadets to draw swords from the Armoury - a “Fort Knox” affair set under the archways at Parade Ground level- and to practise marching sword in hand. At the first attempt, swords wavered about like flags on a sandcastle before, with a firmer grip and with elbows tucked in, a semblance of precision began to appear. Now for the tricky bit, the “Eyes right.” A very patient Parade sergeant explained the four manoeuvres

38 required for this, manoeuvres that seemed straight forward when standing still but not so when on the march. After a few practices in slow time, the division set off at the quick march until, when level with the steps, the order “Eyes right” was given.

Heads snap right and out to the right shoots the sword arm with the sword vertical and the sword arm horizontal from the shoulder. On the next pace forward the sword arm is swung horizontally across the body where the hilt touches the left shoulder. On the third pace the sword hilt is brought back in line with the nose, and then on the fourth pace the sword is brought point down and forward at an angle from the body parallel with the right foot (remember the ten to two position?) and with the hilt behind the right thigh. Two paces further on and the left arm, which meantime has remained unmoving at the side, swings back in time with the left foot’s next forward pace. If it sounds easy, just try it at home with your rolled-up umbrella, checking first that the neighbours are not watching.

“Eyes front” is a slightly less complicated affair where, on the first pace, the head smartly regains its natural forward-facing position and the sword hilt is brought up in front of the nose. On the second pace after the order, the sword arm returns to the marching position, elbow at side, lower arm horizontal facing front with sword blade vertical. With no let-up in the weather, the division re-mustered under the archways to practise the salute at the halt followed by drill with the scabbard. Before being dismissed for a well-earned mid-day meal it remained only for the officer cadets to give the sword blades a coat of Vaseline and return the equipment to the Armoury.

“A sword needs careful handling.” This seemingly obvious statement appears in “The Steward’s Manual” Book of Reference (BR49) which, with the help of Commander Angus Menzies, Clerk to the HCMM, may be found in HQS Wellington’s on-board Library. Details of how to clean and stow an RN Officer’s sword and scabbard are followed, in Appendix 6, by a diagram and instructions on how to tie the RN sword knot. This, on a scale of one to ten, appears to rank alongside the art of tying a bow tie in front of a mirror.

The initial officer training course at Britannia is 28 weeks long, split into 2 equal terms, with the first being based at Dartmouth and the second principally at sea. Training is challenging but conducted in a supportive environment with experienced training staff drawn from all specializations of the RN. The aims of the course are to stimulate, inspire, teach and train a new generation of young officers to meet the challenging requirements of today’s “front line.” Despite the history of this iconic establishment, its place in Royal Navy officer training and the quality of its delivery, Britannia Royal Naval College lies under the Sword of Damocles in the form of threatened Government cut-backs. No surprises there!

39 Extracts from the ‘Cadet’ Magazine

Commander Mankerty has been delving in his loft and he has come across some old copies of the ‘Cadet’ magazine. There are some references to the very earliest days of the Seven Seas Club.

August 1922

Two or three Old “Conways” in business in London, who meet fairly regularly in the City, are anxious to establish a Lunch Club, convenient to Fenchurch Street.

Anyone interested in same is requested to write to W.H. Coombs, Navigators’ & General Insurance Co., Ltd., Finsbury Court; or A.J. Barnes, Messrs. Glover & Barnes, Hamsell Street, E.C.1.

December 1923

We have received an interesting account of the First Annual Dinner of the Seven Seas Club, which was held at the Trocadero Restaurant a few days ago. Our correspondent writes:- The success of the gathering should have given unbounded satisfaction to the founders of the youthful organisation. The Seven Seas Club, like many another popular institution, has extended its membership from the particular to the general. In its original conception it embodied a means of reunion for Old “Conway” Boys in London, and now, as evidenced at this First Annual Dinner, it includes amongst its members lovers of the sea and of its literature and associations, as well as sailormen who were fortunate enough to receive their early training in the “Conway”. To say that the Dinner was followed by speeches and music conveys but a poor idea of the gaiety and good fellowship which landlubbers associate with sailormen on such an occasion. All the toasts were proposed in a way that did no more than justice to the merits of our merchant service, and the tribute paid by Paymaster-Commander Blake Harold, O.B.E., R.N.R., the Registrar-General of Shipping and Seamen, and other speakers, to the part of the Service played in the War made a vivid impression on those present.

A pleasant incident of the Dinner was the presentation by Captain Broadbent, on behalf of the members of the Club, to Mr. A.J. Barnes, the Honorary Secretary and Joint Instigator in the formation of the Club. In response to loud cries of “Speech” the harassed recipient rose and did his duty in a most entertaining way.

The speeches were few, short, and interesting, and in the Chairman’s case very amusing, the toasts being “The Ship” and “Our Guests” respectively proposed by the Chairman and Capt. Broadbent, and responded to by Mr. Killey and Mr. Charles Booth. Mr. David Jones proposed “The Chairman” in eloquent and laudatory terms. In an interesting and serious speech Mr. Booth dwelt on the present day difficulties of the shipping industry, and the rocks that lay ahead, but he gave it as his opinion that ultimately the industry would regain its prosperity given patience and skilled and careful management.

40 The cover of the menu card is the work of K.D. Shoesmith, and will, it is hoped, become a familiar feature of the Club’s Annual Gathering.

MUSICAL PROGRAMME

Opening Chorus and Medley……………………….. The Troupe.

Songs: “Dapper Dan”, Cha-Cha-Cha- Charlie” …….. Miss Dorothy Mead.

Trio of Sports: ………………. The Rev. H.A. James, Cadets V.G.Nelson and A.R.Davis.

Banjo Solo: ………………….. The Rev. H.A. James.

Song: “Deeper”………………. Cadet V.G. Nelson

Songs: “Wherever You Are”, “K-K-K- Kiss Me Again” …. Miss Dorothy Meade.

Sketch: “On the First Tee” ….. The Rev. H.A. James, Cadets V.G. Nelson, A.R. Davis, H.B.Shaw and I.N. Rees.

(Ed. next followed a list of 42 Old Boys – if anyone would like to see this list then please contact the editor)

At a Meeting of the London members of the “Conway” Club Committee, held in October last, it was suggested and agreed unanimously that it would be a good idea if Old “Conways” and their friends could meet together every month in an informal way. The idea has met with many expressions of approval and promises of support, and at a small Dinner recently held it was decide to meet at 7 o’clock on the last Friday of each month, at the Petit Riché Restaurant, 44 Old Compton Street, London, W.

The organisers of the plan have called themselves the “Seven Seas Club”, and it has been decided that there shall be no rules, except that membership be limited to Old “Conways” and seafaring friends introduced by them.

It is hoped that Old “Conways” reading this will impart the information to others, and to remember that Old Boys at a “loose end” on the evening of the last Friday of each month will be assured of meeting men of similar tastes at these informal and inexpensive gatherings.

The Seven Seas Club has come to stay, and will be a rallying point for Old “Conways” in London.

The Trocadero, Leicester Square, London

April 1924

The Seven Seas Club has now been placed on a constitutional basis, with a President, officers and crew, and a comprehensive and all-embracing set of Rules and Regulations. Annual and Life subscriptions and other paraphernalia includes a club tie. Under the new constitution, Captain Broadbent remains President, Commander G.H. Lang, D.S.O., R.N. and Mr. W.H. Coombs, F.R.G.S., are the Vice-Presidents, Mr. A.J. Barnes, Hon. Secretary, Mr. A. Watson, of the Canadian Bank of Commerce, Hon. Treasurer. The Committee consists of Captains V. Millett, Colin Nicholson, R.D., R.N.R., and Messrs. F.E. Bourdillon, Lieut., R.N.R., A.L. Tessier, Lieut., R.N.R., F.N. Patterson, Lieut., R.N.R., and J. Sampson, all being Old “Conways” with the exception of Captain Millett, Lieut. Tessier and Mr. Sampson. Captain Millett has a special claim to celebrity in so much that he served his apprenticeship in the “Cutty Sark” and is mentioned in Basil Lubbock’s great book “The Log of the ‘Cutty Sark’”.

Rule 2 sets forth that the object of the Club is to promote and foster the comradeship of the sea, and Rule 3 prescribes that membership of the Club shall be open to past and present Executive and Engineer Officers of the British sea services and ex-cadets of the recognised nautical training establishments. The annual subscription is 5s. and the Club dinners are held on the last Friday of every month at 6-30 pm at the Petit Riché Restaurant, Old Compton Street, W.1; morning dress.

The first monthly dinner held under the new order was on Friday, February 29th, and proved that any dignity the Club may have acquired by its new suit of clothes has not detracted in any way from the enjoyable character of its informal gatherings, and Mr. W.H. Coombs had the pleasure of presiding over a company of forty members, who formed a very representative gathering of the brotherhood of the sea, and included a considerable number of Old “Conways”.

42 The energetic Hon. Secretary is nothing if not a keen sportsman, and he hopes to organise a Cricket XI this summer stronger and more ambitious than the 1923 XI. The nucleus of an XI is travelling down to play the “Conway” on July 5th.

Three or four Old “Conways” resident in the neighbourhood of Rock Ferry or anywhere else, if they are willing to travel to Rock Ferry for the match and sling a hammock on board the Ship, are required to make up the Old Boys’ side.

Captain H.W. Broadbent (Member of Staff from 1898-1927)

Advertisements from the 1930s

44 The loss of HMS Black Prince by John Callcut

One hundred years ago, 31st May – 1st June 1916, the German and British fleets engaged in a battle that became known as the Battle of Jutland. Both sides claimed victory. The British losses were far greater than the German losses but the Kaiser’s fleet never challenged the Navy again and as a result Germany turned its efforts to unrestricted submarine warfare which eventually led to the United States entering the war.

A distant ancestor of mine (3rd cousin twice removed!) served on board HMS Black Prince, a Duke of Edinburgh Class armoured cruiser which was built at the Thames Ironworks & Shipbuilding Company’s yard at Blackwall. She was completed in 1906.

George James Towills was born in Portsea in 1887. He joined the Navy in 1909 and served as a stoker on board HMS Nelson. On the 21st April 1915 he was transferred to HMS Black Prince and shortly afterwards he married a local girl, Ruby Hendy, at St. James’s Church in Milton, Portsea.. HMS Black Prince was assigned to the 1st Cruiser Squadron under Rear Admiral Sir Robert Keith Arbuthnot and participated in the Battle of Jutland. George Towills was leading stoker.

HMS Black Prince

The cruiser became separated from the main fleet and at about mid-night she found herself approaching the German lines. Her horrified captain, Thomas Parry Bonham, turned his ship around but it was too late. The German battleship Thüringen turned on her floodlights and exposed the hapless Black Prince to upwards of five German ships. She was raked from stem to stern from about 750 - 1500 yards and she sunk within 15 minutes. There were no survivors and all 857 crew members were killed.

It is hard to imagine the horror experienced by the stokers deep in the bowels of the ship as the first round of cannon fire echoed against the sides of the ship. George Towills was 29 years of age.

Rear-Admiral Arbuthnot, a keen cricket enthusiast, also lost his life when HMS Defence was sunk on the same day. Again, there were no survivors.

SLOP CHEST

Club Tie Multi-motive £20.00 If posted £22.00

Ten Year Silk Tie Multi-motive Roman Numeral X £20.00 If posted £22.00

Twenty Five Year Silk Tie Single-motive Roman Numeral XXV £20.00 If posted £22.00

Shield The Club Crest in enamel, mounted on a wooden shield £20.00 If posted At cost

Club Burgee 18 inches, 12 inches on truck £25.00 If posted £27.00

Cufflinks Bearing Club Crest, per pair £17.50 If posted £19.50

Seven Seas Sweatshirts Members are reminded that Sweatshirts In Navy. Grey & Red are available in standard Small, Medium, Large, Extra Large & Double Extra Large sizes. £25.00 If posted At cost

For any of he above please contact Neil McAlpine . Tel: 0208 397 3094, e-mail: [email protected]

Please note the prices are ‘while stocks last’ and will be altered to reflect any increase to the club on re-ordering.