Beyond The Sea

by Jack Lynch

  The following morning we had our medicals, where we were checked for height, chest expansion, general health and fitness etc. I was doing fine up to that point but when I came to the eyesight test; I failed on the smallest row of letters. The letter ‘Y’ was my downfall. I was asked to return for a retest the following day but declined, as I felt that I would not pass the test that time either. I was not too bothered about this result as I really wanted to go to sea and felt I would miss the opportunity to see the world if I signed up for the police. Anyway, I held on to the hope that Marconi would soon call me for interview. There was nothing more to do but say goodbye to Dan and contemplate my next move. The full return fare had been refunded to me in cash as promised. I intended to seek a job in London.

  Luck was with me. As it happened, Frank Harris, a friend from my early days, lived with his mother in Wembley and she invited me to stay with them until I got a job. I was delighted, as I did not know my way around London and was happy to have the comfort and security of a familiar face. The clothes I wore when I arrived are still burned into my mind, mainly because of Mrs Harris, who said when she saw me, “You’d never guess you were Irish, brown shoes and blue suit!” I was wearing a striped blue suit, white shirt, studded detachable collar and tie. To blend in, I wore brown shoes and a cream/white belted trench coat. In those days Irishmen were recognised in England by their style of dressing. I soon noticed that most of my nationality did in fact wear similar type attire.

  Joe Murphy, a fellow friend from Cobh, arrived in London around this time too looking for a job and we met up. Joe and I headed off to join London Transport Buses. At the interview we were both called into some fellow’s office and asked some simple questions like; “If a person paid you two shillings for a four penny fare, how much change would you give back?” or “Two people get on the bus and want two tickets - one at four pence and one at three pence. How much change would you give back, if you were given a half crown?” Despite us getting the answers right it turned out that Joe was too young to work there and I would not join without him.

  Our next stop was the London Fire Brigade. Joe got scared when he saw the high ladders, and pulled out. Even though I was accepted, I too pulled out as Mrs Harris felt I was worthy of bigger things. I often wonder if I had accepted what my destiny would have been.

  Now, Joe went looking for an uncle of his who lived somewhere in Cricklewood. Joe did not have any address for him and soon discovered that Cricklewood is a big place. I accompanied him as we walked the streets looking for a window cleaner, which was his uncle’s profession. We kept asking people we passed; “Do you know an Irish window cleaner, named Brady, who wears thick horn-rimmed glasses?” Eventually we struck lucky and Joe was reunited with his uncle. Joe later found work there but many years later he longed for home and returned to Ireland.

  Mrs. Harris was constantly scanning the newspapers for a suitable job for me and one day saw an advertisement in the paper for Murphy Radio in Welwyn Garden City in Hertfordshire. I went for an interview and medical and got a job as an electronic tester and inspector. There, I worked on equipment for the German Army. The main electronics were walkie-talkies. Some of the work was boring, as I had simply to check miniature transformers for continuity, open circuits, breakdowns etc. I had progressed to testing these Walkie-talkies soon after I joined. The people were very nice there though and I got on well with everybody. There were no smart remarks about being Irish, as was common at that time in England. All the employees were English and generally called me Pat. During my time in Murphy Radio I lodged in a semi-detached council house, very close to the factory. The owner was a small man, who was retired and smoked endlessly. His wife was a lovely quiet woman who was always looking out for my welfare and they had a grown up daughter who came to visit sometimes.

  I celebrated my twenty-first birthday here but there weren’t many celebrations. I don’t have any memories to suggest that my twenty-first birthday was different from any other birthday. I greatly missed my family, who would have given me a hug and kiss had they been around and made it a special day. Many more birthdays passed in a similar vein, quiet and lonely except for the letters I received from home. They were always welcome and kept me in touch with my loved ones.

  It was whilst I was here that I first tried to give up cigarettes. I was off them for about five months until one day I went into the Post office, to lodge money in my savings book, when a craving came over me. Without hesitation, I bought a pack of ten Players Weights. My first few draws were sickening but it did not take long to be back in the full swing of smoking again. It was to be many years before I tried kicking the habit again.

  At long last, in June 1949, I was requested to report to the Marconi Offices in East Ham, for interview. I handed in my notice at Murphy Radio, said my good- byes, boarded a Green Line bus and sat back to enjoy the journey and looked forward to moving to London.

  My first impressions of this depot were not too favourable. The chief guy there was named Mr. Dyer. He was a smallish man and had a limp. His attitude was very sharp and bossy. Whilst Radio Officers waited for appointment to a new ship, he used to call each one on a Morse key, using the ship’s call sign, or by the individual’s name if anybody was not attached to a ship at that particular time. There was enough Morse whilst at sea and all objected to this while ashore so nobody answered his calls. The guy just wanted to show off his prowess on the Morse key. It also saved him the short walk from the front office to the waiting room to deliver a message personally. Eventually, he gave it up and came into the room to call us individually. I got very bored on my own in this room so it helped, when other guys arrived to suffer the waiting game with me.

  When I first reported to the depot I was required to go for a number of tests, to confirm my suitability to go to sea as a Radio Officer. I was a bit worried as I had not practised Morse code for a long time.

  A Corkman, Mr. Dwyer, came in and said he was going to give me a Morse test. He was a slim man, going thin on top, aged about forty something. He started to send messages at about fifteen words per minute and gradually he sped up to twenty-five w.p.m. I found it a little difficult to keep up and was concerned when he took my paper to check the results.

  “You’re a little rusty from being ashore for so long. Just relax and we’ll have another go. That was only a warm up.” He said. Boy was I glad! The second time round I had no problems and did fine and relief spread over my body.

  Mr Dwyer then said to me, “When you go on leave to Cork, remember me, and bring me back a nice piece of bacon and a bottle of Cherry Brandy. There’s a lovely shop, named Maddens, in Bridge Street and you’ll get both there.” I found out later that a number of Cork Radio Officers used to keep our friend supplied whilst on leave; a case of ‘you scratch my back, and I’ll scratch yours.’

  Having passed the interview and test, I was shown where to go to be fitted with my Radio Officer’s uniform. My uniform consisted of a doeskin trousers and jacket, two white shirts, shoulder epaulets, black ties, black socks and white stockings, one black peaked cap with two white coverings for the tropics and white shorts. The final items were a scarf and navy blue raglan raincoat.

  Marconi paid for all these items and the money had to be repaid by me from my monthly salary of £20.00. Marconi deducted the amount owed for the uniform and the balance due was paid in a lump sum when I signed off the ship.

  The salary rose to a maximum of £44.00 per month, after a number of years. The most I remember getting was £30.00 per month, just before I resigned from the company after being with them for 5 years. They also furnished free travel warrants for home leave. I’m sure they made a lot of money holding on to these salaries. Some trips lasted over a year.

  My next stop was to Her Majesty’s Marine offices in London that June, where I received a seaman’s identity record book. This book -also known as a Discharge Book -would contain my record at sea whilst I served on ships which flew the British Red Ensign Flag. This f
lag, as distinct from the White Ensign, was affectionately known by seaman as the Red Duster. I was also given a British Seaman’s identity card. I already held an Irish Seaman’s identity card, which had been issued to me in Cobh the previous May.

  Experienced Radio Officers did not spend too long in any depot awaiting a ship. This was mainly because the Radio Officer was the only Officer of the ship’s crew who had to be onboard before the ship could sail. Even the Captain did not have this distinction as the Chief Officer could act in his place. No Radio Officer, no voyage.

  Inexperienced and first time Radio Officers had to wait for an opening to occur in a passenger ship so that there was a senior Radio Officer available to train him. I was now in this category and waited patiently to be appointed to a ship. During my waiting period I learned a lot from experienced Radio Officers whilst in the waiting room.

  Watch hours were kept from 0800 to 1000, 1200 to 1400, 1600 to 1800, and finally 2000 to 2200 hours. All Watch times had to be kept and recorded in GMT. Of course some larger ships and tugs kept a twenty-four hour watch. During each watch period strict silence had to be maintained during, and between, the fifteenth minute and eighteenth minute, and between the forty-fifth and the forty-eighth minute of each hour. All Radio Officers had to listen in carefully during these critical minutes on 500Kcs. They were required to listen for, and respond to, SOS distress messages which might be sent and that otherwise could be missed if heavy traffic was being sent on 500Kc’s. ‘Q’ codes were international, and were used to help alleviate language problems. They consisted of three letters, each beginning with the letter ’Q.’A few examples are;

  QRA meant: ‘What is the name of your ship or station?’

  QRB meant: ‘Where are you from or where are you bound for?’

  After QRZ it followed on to QTA, and so on….

  The broken red line around the circumference of the Radio Room clock is divided into twelve segments, and each segment is separated by one second. Each segment is timed for four seconds; this is to enable the Radio Officer to send accurate dashes, to set off alarms on other ships when a distress message was broadcast. Any four correctly timed consecutive dashes triggered the signal on any auto alarms on other ships. This immediately advised them that a possible distress situation was in progress. In between watch periods Radio Officers set their Auto Alarm in case there were any distress signals being sent. During watch periods they would have to listen for their ship’s call sign in case anybody was trying to communicate with their ship. Also, weather reports and traffic lists would have to be listened to and copied on a regular basis, from coastal radio stations sending traffic lists, at their scheduled times. Coastal stations called up ships by call sign, in alphabetical order, advising that they had messages for them. Sometimes they would call ships outside of traffic list broadcast times. When this happened, the Radio Officer would have to reply to the coast station and change frequencies, receive the message, repeat it back if there was uncertainty of any part of the contents, acknowledge receipt, then change back, and listen to the distress frequency (500Kc’s /600 meters.) Next, the message would have to be delivered to the addressee; either crew or Captain. If a new message had to be sent it would have to be transmitted to the nearest coast station closest to message destination. Sometimes, flowers would have to be sent to people ashore via Interflora. Some ships had shipshore radiotelephones, and crew or passengers could call home. Most Morse communication was carried out at about twenty to twenty-five words per minute. A word for the unit of code counting was five letters. On occasions speeds of thirty words per minute would be broadcast.

  The position of the ship (QTH) had to be sent on a regular basis to the nearest coast station along the route. This position, and all communications held, plus daily time checks taken on sixteen Kc’s, from Rugby Radio, in the UK, had to be recorded in the Radio Log Book. Normally, at least one entry was recorded in the radio log every ten minutes. This consisted of call signs of ships, or coast stations, carrying out traffic. It was compulsory that all distress (SOS), Emergency (XXX), and Navigation warnings (TTT) were logged, with times intercepted and any unusual occurrences during transmission. All such messages as well as storm, gale and other weather reports had to be delivered to the Bridge.

  Quite often CQ (calls to all stations; which mean ‘Seek You’ messages were sent from various sources such as ship, or coast stations, asking if anybody had anything for them, or if they required information.

  All equipment failures had to be recorded. Occasionally, the equipment might act up, and corrective action taken to repair the problem, and hopefully have the spare parts to carry out repairs. Other times, atmospherics could be so bad that it became impossible to decipher any Morse signals, and worse, the Auto Alarm would go off at all unearthly times. Sometimes it was necessary to get up three times, during the night, only to find it was a false alarm and that atmospherics were responsible. Sounds like a prostrate problem! Constant bursts of atmospherics soon fooled the equipment. It was absolutely terrible off the coast of Brazil, and while going down to Argentina on a voyage. These false alarms had to be reported to the Captain, and entered it in the Radio log. On some occasions due to continuous and prolonged atmospherics it was impossible to operate the Auto Alarm for some hours, and it became necessary to maintain personal radio watch.

  Around coasts throughout the world, there are radio beacons to facilitate ships to navigate, when other means of obtaining the ship’s position are either difficult, or not possible- fog, stars not visible, no radar etc. It was the Radio Officer’s job to take radio bearings from multiple beacons, and then pass the information to the Bridge. Usually, a triangular inter section of the bearings was obtained, but if three stations were not available then an inter section of two bearings sufficed. A Direction Finder, using the Bellini Tosi system was utilised during these times. Beacons had their own individual call signs, and their exact locations were shown on the ship’s charts. The Direction finder loop aerial was rotated through three hundred and sixty degrees, until the minimum signal strength was heard. This occurred in two directions one hundred and eighty degrees apart. A straight aerial was now used, in conjunction with the loop aerial, and the weaker of the two signals was the correct direction of the ship, from the station beacon. The beacon had specific times and radio frequencies, for sending their signals, so if a transmission was missed it was necessary to wait for the next transmission. Sometimes coast stations were used for Direction finding, by requesting them to transmit a signal to allow the direction loop to do its job. Charges were normally accrued for this facility.

  Another duty was to test the Lifeboat radio survival equipment, on a regular basis. This was a fairly cumbersome piece of equipment, and needed a number of hands to operate it. It had handles, which were turned like the pedals of a bicycle, to generate power to transmit. It was held securely as it was quite heavy, and water proof. It was such a vital piece of equipment, that if an emergency arose, it was necessary to ensure it worked efficiently despite the hassle of testing it. All such test results, were recorded in the Radio logbook. The equipment was painted bright yellow for easy identification in the water.

  It was also necessary to ensure that the ship’s radio batteries were fully and properly maintained. To this end regular top-up with distilled water, and charging of batteries was performed on each battery. All such maintenance checks were recorded fully, in the radio logbook.

  In the case of ships registered any place in the British Empire, there was a facility to send messages to Radio stations situated in any of these countries, (Canada, Hong Kong, Australia, UK, etc) and the messages were relayed free and only incurred charges at the final radio station. It was also possible to ask another ship to relay a message for you if you were finding it difficult to contact a particular station.

  Sea life beckoned, and I was given a travel warrant to go to Southampton, to join my first ship. As I boarded the train for my destination, my heart was pounding, and I
wondered what challenges life was about to bring. I had waited so long for this moment, and now this next exciting phase of my life was about to commence. I lay back in the seat as the train slowly chugged out of the station and headed for Southampton…

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  My first ship was the RMS Isle of Guernsey. The ship was built in Dumbarton, Scotland by Denny Bros. in 1930. She was registered in Southampton, and owned by British Rail. Her tonnage was 2152.33 and she could reach speeds of up to 20 knots due to her twin screws and oil burning steam driven engines. The scheduled trips were from Southampton to St. Peter Port in Guernsey and then onto St. Helier, Jersey and back to Southampton. Captain Trout and Captain Pearce shared the Captain’s duties on the ship during different voyages, and there was a crew of 63 including Officers. The total maximum passengers carried on any one trip was 1190. In the Radio Room I had a Marconi 381 transmitter, and a Cr.300/2 receiver. There was also a Direction Finder, and the very old type Spark Transmitter. Finally, Radar completed the list of equipment. The call sign was GQYJ. I Signed on in Southampton on 8th July 1949, and signed off in Southampton on 5th September 1949.

  I was told that this ship had taken part in the evacuation of Dunkirk during WW2 and as a converted Hospital ship in 1939, had carried 839 wounded back to England. She was damaged and laid up for a while but later, in September 1942; she was converted to a troop carrying ship and carried six landing craft, and hundreds of troops, in the invasion of Europe in WW2. She was also the first ship to deliver mail to Jersey Island after the liberation of the Channel Islands in 1945. After my time on her I later learned that she was unfortunately scrapped in 1961.