‘Once the jetties had been constructed, the process was simpler. With the tide still running up towards York, a man ashore would shout from the river bank to tell us all where to moor.
‘Some barges would be directed to a berth to discharge. The tow rope was detached from the tug. Under just its own momentum, the flow of the river and the influence of the tiller on the barge, the skipper steered his vessel into the jetty, had ropes thrown ashore which were then secured to bollards
‘Even when the jetties had been built, they could only deal with 3 vessels at a time. If you weren’t wanted at once, you had to moor up heads and tails until required, against the Olympia Hotel. However you were moored, unloading could begin.’
Unloading could be by bucket elevator, electric runway, or later by vacuum pump. The elevator had many buckets on a continuous loop. It would be lowered into the barge’s hold and would start to scoop all the seed out. The seed scoops mentioned in the inventory of the Taurus were vital here. Representatives from both the mill and the barge had to be present, which could cause a bit of friction. The owner of the barge worked four hours and then had to stand by all day and night to open more hold space or cover the barge up if it rained. The mill men worked eight hours but the bargemen who lived on board were there in attendance all the time.
‘If two elevators were lowered into the hold of a barge containing 225 tons of nuts it would take about two hours to empty, needing four men from the mill trimming the seed into the bucket and with the help of two bargemen. For one elevator, two men from the mill would join the crew and unloading would take around three hours.’
Once the buckets were full, they went round a loop before being tipped out onto an endless belt which carried the material across Barlby Road and into a silo.
This could be a terribly dusty business, especially with a cargo like cotton seed. Workers at Scott’s mill had a problem with the dust raised from manually shifting the seed. Many workers developed respiratory diseases in the days before the Second World War, when simple safety measures such as dust masks were not mandatory. The vacuum pumps were an adaption of this system. Instead of having to manually shovel and level the seed in the bucket, the vacuum pipes were giant suction tubes like vacuum cleaners which sucked the cargo direct from the hold on to the belt.
‘If the barge was loaded with a bagged commodity it would have to moor under the runway berth, which was an overhead electric runway. This was a marvellous device which ran on overhead rails which came all the way from inside the factory.’
Laurie Dews (left) and mate Harry Sleight having partly unloaded the hold of copra. Note the seed shovels on the cargo. (Laurie Dews)
A man sat inside a cabin suspended from the rails overhead, beneath which was an empty board with hooks at each corner. When he got over the hold of the barge, the board was lowered and then one mill man and one bargeman in the hold loaded a ton of meal on the board. That would probably be twenty sacks, each weighing a hundredweight (56lb, 25kg).
Selby Michael joins two other Selby barges under the vacuum elevators, 1962/63. (Laurie Dews)
‘When the board was full, the chains were secured to the board and the runway driver heaved the board up and into the mill, where it was unloaded in a reverse of the way it was loaded.’
This was repeated until the barge was empty, taking about eight hours – or one mill man’s shift – to unload 150 tons. That might not sound much, but 150 board-loads in eight hours is at least fifteen boards an hour or one every four minutes. If there were two of you filling that board with twenty sacks, that meant each of you hefting two hundredweight sacks of meal a minute. For eight hours straight.
Cargo in sacks being taken out of a barge’s hold at Barlby. (Laurie Dews)
Cargo in sacks ‘on the board’ on the overhead railway at Barlby in the 1940s. (Laurie Dews)
‘Sometimes some of the lads were a bit cruel to the bloke in the cabin. A few of them had air rifles, and as the board was swinging round, they’d take a pot shot at the cabin or the board. The operator played merry hell, but there wasn’t much he could do about it.’
Once the barge was unloaded, there was the possibility of a return cargo. This was usually 'slab' or cattle cake, the fibrous, compressed remnants of the seed once oil had been extracted, excellent feed for livestock.
‘The barge was loaded under the runway, and the cake came out of the factory on boards, a ton at a time. It was taken off the boards three cakes at a time and stowed carefully by a bargeman and a mill man. You had to be careful stowing the cake as it crumbled easily at the edges, and the buyers didn’t go for crumbled cake. If we did have one where the edges looked a bit rough, we tried to hide it between two good cakes.’
Even if there wasn’t a return load for Hull, the skipper and mate had to put all the covers and hatches on before leaving BOCM and ‘dropping down’ to the Selby jetties to await the tug to Hull. This simple-sounding manoeuvre called for more skilful bargecraft.
The currents, bends and proximity of other craft at Selby are potentially treacherous. Thus the river navigation by laws are strict yet clear. ‘Vessels must only pass Selby Toll Bridge at slack water, against the stream or going astern with the stream,’ that is, letting the current take the flow, but with the engine operating against the current to allow control if necessary. It is further advised to have an anchor ready to deploy to drag against the power of the current.
‘We then had to drop the barge stern-first down river through both bridges. The captain had the tiller and the mate had to heave the anchor using anchor levers. The drag of the anchor allowed controlled steering. The anchor chains had hydraulics, but nothing was easy. If there was flood water coming down river you could have 15 fathoms (90feet, 30m) of chain out – and believe me it wasn’t easy pulling that lot in. Under normal circumstances, we’d moor up at the Railway Jetty, ready for the cycle to start again, with the tow back down to Hull.’
Empty barges would complete the round trip back to Hull, but a load full of cake meant an interesting meander through Hull Docks. The laden barges would anchor up off the Minerva Pier, ready for a tow by Whitaker’s tugs.
‘The tug Wilberfoss or Cawood would tow us into Old Harbour on the River Hull. The tug would let go of the rope before we got to Salthouse Lane bridge. After that we’d use the anchor to turn the barge around to go under North Bridge, Scott Street and then Chapman Street bridges. Wilmington Rail Bridge was a bit lower, so if we couldn’t get through we’d shout “Brig ahoy” – and the bridgeman would ring his bell, put a chain across the road and swing the bridge for us. Just beyond here was our destination – Butter Mill, Kato 2 or BOCM Hull as it was called. To unload the cake onto boards – three cakes at a time – we needed two mill men and two bargemen, two to a board.’
As always, time was money, and sometimes Sam tired of these complex manoeuvres to get around the docks in Hull, especially if only small loads had to be moved between different ships. If that was the case, Sam occasionally loaded up the cob boat with the cargo and sculled across to where the cargo was needed, saving all the shouting, bridge swinging and physical effort needed to move the whole barge around the dock with boathook and warping line. After the hold was emptied, subsequent movements depended on the tide, this time in the River Hull
Barges Selby Richard and Selby Peter moored up in thick ice at the Railway Jetty. (Waterways World)
‘Once emptied the shipping agents would send a man to help us drop down to the low end of the harbour whilst the river was still ebbing, so we could get under the bridges. Once there a tug would tow us to another part of the Docks for our next cargo, unless we had to go into Dry Dock for repair. Whitakers had two dry docks in Hull, Lime Street and Garrison.’
One final job that the bargemen had in Selby was that of an icebreaker. The Ouse often froze over in Laurie’s day, when the tug was employed to act as an ice breaker. Once the motorized craft came in, it became another job for the barge skipper.
‘O
f course, weather could play its part, and sometimes winters were so cold that the river froze over. When it did, it was my job, all night, going up and down the river to make a passage and the only way you could break the ice was going through it stern first. You couldn’t go head first into it ‘cause you climbed on top of it. And once you climbed on top of it, that’s it. So what you had to do, you used to go stern first and the propeller used to chop all the ice up and make a channel.’
After all that effort, what was it all for? An OCO advert from 1947 summarizes things nicely.
OCO advert from the Selby Times of 1947. (Author)
From the mouth of the canal to Scott’s Bight is about half a mile.
The entire Selby river trading experience can be seen on this aerial shot of Selby, from an approximately southern direction, taken in the mid-1980s.
A: Entrance to the Selby Canal
B: York Corporation Jetty
C: Railway stations with railway jetty on bank
D: Railway Swing Bridge
E: Williamson’s Wharf
F: Selby Toll Bridge (as it was at the time)
G: Site of Abbots’ Staithe
H: Ideal Flour Mill (now Westmill Foods)
I: Scott’s Bight
J: Company housing
K: BOCM jetties
L: BOCM factory
M: River Ouse (going north towards York)
N: Railway line going east to Hull.
A further view of BOCM’s operation can be seen in the second photograph, from the north.
A: Trackbed of Former East Coast Main Line railway to York
B: Tank farm
C: Riverside crane
D: Boxed-in conveyors traversing the main road
E: Barges being unloaded under the elevator
F: Empty barges laid up on the river bank
G: Main body of the BOCM factory
H: Railway line to Hull
Chapter 12
GETTING PAID FOR THE JOB
The ‘payment by thirds’ method of pay that beguiled Bill Dews to throw his lot in with Soapy Joe remained in play for much of the time that Laurie worked on the dumb barges. OCO/BOCM owned the barges and paid for all the ropes, covers, paint and tackle needed to run the show. As the inventory for the Virgo showed, the amount of kit was extensive. The company would also pay for regular maintenance, but not if the skipper was culpable for an accident. There were also the costs involved in registering the barge for use on the river, an annual fee a little like car tax.
The day-to-day costs were met by the skipper. Once payment was received for cargo carried, he paid out for any brokerage, dock or towing dues. That left a net figure, out of which the company took a third, the skipper the remaining two thirds. This didn’t all go into his back pocket, but rather had to fund the mate’s wages, along with any incidental costs such as slipping some money to the lock keeper at Hull or to pay for coal for the fires in the cabin. As Laurie’s wartime anecdote showed, bargemen weren’t above a little skulduggery to reduce that fuel expenditure. Sam’s log shows that working his boat in the 1920s brought in a gross annual income of around £275. After taking account of perhaps £25 for fees and charges, and the profit that the company would take, Sam was left with around £170 a year for himself, out of which he had to pay his mate. Accurate figures are difficult to come by, but according to a Hansard report of a parliamentary debate of wages in the early part of the 1920s, average annual wages for a labourer were £45 per year and an able seaman about £65. Assuming Sam paid his mate at those kind of levels Sam himself received about £120 per annum. At the time, Hansard reports that a locomotive driver averaged £125 per year, so Sam was paid at a level equivalent to other skilled manual workers of the time.
Official description of the Selby Michael.
Annual registration document for Selby Michael in 1960. (Laurie Dews)
Whilst Sam and Elisabeth had a house, some of the mates saved money by living on board.
‘Many of the men who worked as mates had no homes and they knew when they got a job as a mate on one of the barges at least they had a cabin in the fo’c’sle and a bed and a fire to keep them warm. They certainly worked hard for their keep! Life on a barge was very hard in the winter. You slept on a flock bed on bed boards and believe me they were hard. Sometimes in winter when it was really cold, the fresh water in the jug froze. Mind you, the cabins were warm and cosy in winter so long as you kept a nice fire burning.’
Handwritten list of rates of pay for tug crew. (Laurie Dews)
Those working on the tugs had a slightly kinder wage structure, but life on the tug boats was just as hard.
‘The tugs had a crew of four. The captain and his mate lived in the fore cabin and the engineer and fireman in the aft. This aft cabin led into the engine room and stoke hole. The galley stove was kept burning all night long, with a kettle on top simmering away and the stern gland dripping. That drip, drip, drip could keep a man awake all night!
‘The fireman was first up in the morning. He’d walk through the engine room and tunnel into the stoke hole. No time or space for fancy ablutions, just toss it on the fire with a fresh charge of coal to raise steam in the boiler. The engineer would be out of his bed soon after to look after the engine.’
As opposed to the bargemen having to work all hours, the tug’s pay rates do take accounts of weekend (double pay on Sundays), allowance for time when laid up for repairs and a degree of commission paid on tonnage; the heavier the load tugged, the more effort needed so the greater the financial reward. The payment system changed in 1948. The captain was now paid £5 5/- (£5.25 or £175 in 2016 values) per week fixed rate and 5d (2p) per ton carried. If the barge was full, that’s about £5 per full load or £150 in 2016 values. The annual income for a barge skipper working to this contract would be in the region of £260 fixed rate, and £250 for 50 full loads carried, giving a total of £510. The Financial Times figure for average annual earnings in 1948 is £460. A few years later, in 1954, Laurie earned £572.
The post-war settlement showed an improvement in terms and conditions for the bargemen. As the new motorized craft came into the fleet, these conditions improved still further as the physical demands of the job lessened, and the creature comforts on board improved. However the reliance on the state of the river hadn’t.
‘This wage covered midnight Sunday until midnight Saturday. The only overtime was for cargo loading before 8am or after 5pm or for any work on a Sunday. The mate was also on a weekly wage of £3 and 3d per ton. You were expected to live on board all week. If you lived in Selby and the boat was in Hull, or vice versa you received one rail fare to go home at weekends and return Monday morning.’
Laurie's annual pay statements for 1954 and 1971/72. A barge skipper's pay was typical for a skilled working man. Figures from the Financial Times suggest that an average skilled workman's annual pay was in the £550 - £650 range in 1954 and around £2100 in 71/72. Depending on your point of view, Laurie also had the joys or hardship of working in the open air and not being tied to a 9-5 schedule. (Laurie Dews)
Extract from book of terms and conditions for workers on the river, 1966. (Laurie Dews)
The bargemen remained careful with their money. Many more people smoked back in the 1950s, and it was essential to make those cigarettes last as long as possible.
‘We used to save up our tab ends and mix them with dried tea leaves and put them all in a jar. If we were fog bound and didn’t have any cigs we’d break open the jar and roll up the tobacco and tea leaves into cigarettes to have a smoke.’
A decade later, rates of pay and terms and conditions were agreed in negotiations between management and unions, with rights and responsibilities clearly laid out.
Section 6 also shows that by 1966, the company had decided to supply coal at a moderate rate per month to save the need for thievery. BOCM’s continued use of the barge fleet on the river was subject to annual agreement by the City of York Corporation, who, at the time,
were the authority in control of the river from York to Hook railway bridge.
A second extract from book of terms and conditions for workers on the river, 1966. (Laurie Dews)
Note that, although the motor vessels were designed to work independently, they could also act as tugs for the remaining dumb barges should the amount of cargo to be moved require it. BOCM kept up this contract on Laurie’s barge, the Selby Michael until at least 1983, although regular use had ceased some eighteen months earlier.
Chapter 13
RETIREMENT
In the mid-1960s, eight barges were unloading daily at Barlby. If each barge delivered their full capacity, that was around 2,000 tons of seed. As most lorries of the time had a capacity less than twenty tons, that meant that eight barges shifted the equivalent of over 100 lorry journeys. Whilst the road journey between Hull and Selby on the A63 might only take a quarter of the time that a barge would need on the river, each lorry had less than a tenth of the capacity. To use lorries to deliver an equivalent tonnage of cargo would also require about ten times the workforce, with all the extra cost that would imply. River transport still had a clear advantage.
Unfortunately, three key developments did away with that edge over the ensuing twenty years. Rotterdam replaced Hull as the major port for ocean-going freighters bringing loads from Africa. Cargoes were often trans-shipped there, meaning that coasters could by-pass Hull to deliver as far inland as Goole or even to the riverside jetties in Selby. Barges could still collect from these wharves and take the seed to Barlby, but the advantage in using a slow, bulk-carrying mode of transport such as a barge is lessened when deliveries take place over shorter distances, and more intermittently. Fewer barges travelled along the river, and more lorries were serviced at the Ousegate wharves in Selby, where seed was unloaded and taken the brief, two-mile trip over the Toll Bridge to the Barlby works.
River Ouse Bargeman Page 12