by Jack Lynch
When we were ready to leave, our Pilot came aboard and we started on our trip back down the river. It was no easier this time for the Captain. He could be heard muttering out loud, worried for his ship. All’s well that ends well, and eventually the Pilot disembarked and kept the raincoat, and we proceeded out to sea. The relief was palpable from the Captain, as he set course and gave the order; “full ahead” for Lagos. The Captain kept uttering various Welsh prayers whilst he recalled his journey up and down the river.
Again, on arrival at Lagos, we picked up the pilot, and here we tied up at the jetty. This time the Pilot was decently clothed. I have only vague memories of Lagos itself, except for a few events which occurred. The locals also worked very hard to load beans on board. There was one young lad who was counting the bags as they were delivered on board and he seemed quite resentful when I checked to find out how many bags were shipped aboard. The Captain had asked me to keep an eye on the count, so I casually asked this young fellow the score. He looked up and said, “I have my matriculation and I can count, why you English think we are not educated?” I replied; “I never said you were not educated, and anyway I’m Irish, not English.” His attitude immediately changed and I did not have any problems getting the information I needed.
Later, I went down into the hold of the ship and watched the bags being stored. I was amongst quite a number of natives who were working under the supervision of a foreman. His duty was to ensure that things were being done correctly. There was one fellow who seemed very lazy, and I asked the foreman why he seemed to be sitting down a lot. The foreman called him and said something in his native language, and I got a glare from the fellow. The foreman said that the fellow was dangerous and for me to be careful with him. The Captain was looking down the hatch, overheard this, and told me to come up immediately, which I was glad to do. It was hot and humid down there, with sweaty smells which were not too pleasant and that, plus the danger element, helped me to get up on deck quite quickly. I did not have to go down in the hold but I wanted to experience it and see what it was like.
A lot of white people worked and had businesses in Lagos then and it was common to see them in boats being rowed by natives. There could be up to eight Africans semi-naked, sitting on the gunwales of the boat, and they paddled large canoe type boats, as their passengers of white men and women sat facing them. The natives used to hide their ‘Jewels’ by pulling them between their legs, as they sat sideways on the sides of the canoe. However, according to the shipping agent, the natives used to open their legs slightly to expose the ‘Jewels,’ whenever there were women on board. He said it was comical to see the ladies pretending to cover their eyes with their hands, whilst in fact their fingers were spread generously apart to allow a good view!
After a hard day’s work the natives washed publicly from a tap in the square near the ship. Their dark skin had a white coating of some kind of powder, which came off quite easily. Close by there was a small little public mini market, and lots of children were playing near their mothers, who were busy trying to sell fruit and vegetables. They used old wooden boxes to display their goods. I was fascinated with one very large lady, who wore a skirt and what appeared to be a very large man’s vest. Whenever she bent over to pick up something from the box, her right boob fell out due to its size and weight. I had never seen anything like this in my whole life, colour, size, or weight. Our time in Lagos had come to an end, but not my education.
We next headed for Accra, Winneba and Tacoradi, in Ghana. In all these ports we continued loading but I have few recollections of what events happened except for one incident in Winneba. We were tied up at the Quay but on the opposite side to the Quay the ‘Bumboats’ came alongside, and they usually wanted food or whatever we would give them. Bumboats are small rowing boats or canoes and were common in most ports in Africa where the natives traded with ships. Generally there was a mixture of men, women, boys and girls in these boats. They could be very persuasive, and crewmembers bought goods or exchanged cigarettes and sometimes threw coins or food to them. They were marvellous swimmers and divers and they had to go into the water every so often to retrieve badly aimed gifts from the crew. It did not take the crew long, on this occasion, to notice a beautiful young girl in a white vest, who dived over a couple of times, and when she came up her beautiful body was totally visible through the transparent vest. The lads then got a full loaf of bread and lowered it over the side just outside of her reach and made gestures for her to remove her vest before they would give her the loaf. No way would she do so and the boys were very disappointed. Eventually they gave her the loaf.
I did not go ashore in any of these ports as they did not seem to offer any attraction. However I did make two purchases in these places. The first item was a pair of wall mounted buffalo type horns and the second was a very light carved wooded paddle. It had the name Margaret carved on it but the name was misspelled. These two souvenirs later caused me some grief on the way home in London.
Next we arrived in Freetown, Sierra Leone. The weather was very hot and sometimes humid. The usual native activities occurred. Some of the crew bought monkeys, which they intended to bring home with them. The animals were wild and vicious and difficult to control. One escaped and spent part of the trip up the mast swinging off my radio aerial. Despite all attempts to catch him nobody succeeded until late into the trip. On one occasion our pet cat was on deck and did not see this monkey watching him from the mast. Slowly, the monkey descended and crept up behind the cat. Before you could blink the monkey had mounted the cat, and there was one hell of a meow from the cat, as claws and teeth came into action. The poor cat eventually escaped intact and disappeared indoors for safety not venturing out on deck for days. Eventually, it cautiously came out on deck with its eyes rolling, obeying the rules of the road; he looked left, looked right, and looked upwards, before summoning the courage to sit down, whilst maintaining his vigilance all the time. When he spotted the monkey his eyes never strayed from him and he disappeared the moment the monkey moved. This saga carried on until the monkey got hungry, came down to eat, and was eventually recaptured.
The Second Mate owned this monkey, which created havoc in his cabin. I was in his cabin one evening and I asked the mate what happened to his pillow, which had brown skid marks on it. He laughed and said the monkey used it like we use toilet paper. This was too much for me. The Mate did not seem to mind and thought the monkey was great fun. Nothing I said to him about the state of his cabin seemed to ruffle him and I did not go to his cabin again for the rest of the trip home.
I was glad to be heading towards home but first of all we had to go to the Canary Islands, for bunkers; which is fuel necessary for the ship’s engines. The Chief Steward also had to collect some items for our upcoming Christmas dinner.
When we arrived at the Canary Islands the first thing we saw at the dockside was lots of locals trying to sell actual canaries. We were advised against buying any, as we were told the birds never again sang when they left the island. This was because the birds that sang, and which you thought you were getting, were switched by the locals when you bought them and you got a mute which did not have a note in its head. The lads were told by the sellers that the birds would be silent for a while until they got used to their new environment and they would then burst into song. Despite this warning a number of the crew bought birds and cages but forgot about birdseeds. They still hoped the birds would sing before we got home. During the trip two died, and nobody ever heard a whistle or warble from any of the birds. The sucker crewmembers did get another bird from the rest of the crew.
In order to prepare a Christmas feast to remind us of home the Chief Steward went ashore and tried to buy turkey, ham, and any nice goodies to celebrate Christmas on the way to Amsterdam, which was to be our next port of call when we left the Canary Islands. I don’t know how hard he tried but the end result was all he could get were six scrawny chickens, malnourished, and not looking much bigger than canaries!
He had to barter two bags of potatoes for these specimens but said that with plenty of feeding they would look like turkeys when we got to Christmas day. What a Hope! The birds were kept in the storeroom and were fed all kinds of food. Two died within three days.
As we passed through the Bay of Biscay the Captain advised the crew that they would have to put the monkeys and birds into quarantine on arrival in the UK. This had a profound effect on the owners and I’m afraid the poor animals were disposed of in the Bay of Biscay on the trip home. There were some sad scenes as the crew and animals parted company. The monkeys were fitted with some of the ship’s stock of metal shackles and then dumped into the Bay.
The weather through the Bay this time was reasonably calm but very cold. As we proceeded through the English Channel it became bitterly cold and we got our share of rain and snow. Ice formed on all parts of the ship and it was dangerous on deck. We celebrated Christmas day at sea. We had three small chickens between the officers and crew which totalled approximately 30 men. From what I remember I got a piece of skin and that was it. The rest of the dinner was no different to what we had been served during the voyage. It did not compare favourably to the Isle of Guernsey, where we had silver service but then that was a passenger ship and the Winkleigh was a tramp steamer. Also, at this time, I had not tasted the food eaten on other ships. I did find out later that the food on the Winkleigh was average compared to most British tramp ships but far behind other ships, foreign and American owned, which I later served on.
Less than one week later we arrived safely in Amsterdam and discharged our cargo of Cocoa beans. We were in port for approximately three days, plus New Year’s Day. Amsterdam was an eye-opener for me. I spent every day ashore. I had never seen anything like it and loved it immediately. There were beautiful souvenir and gift shops. In one large shop I bought my first gifts and presents to bring home - a statue of a Dutch sailor and some cushion covers, the usual first time buys at sea. I saw these souvenirs in lots more ports, and on bumboats throughout the world but this was my first opportunity to bring something home from abroad. I wandered around the canals and wondered at the number of bicycles being ridden around the city. I was gob smacked by the speed at which cars were driven, and it confused me for a while because I was not used to seeing traffic being driven on the right instead of the left side of the roads. I soon got used to it.
The Royal Palace in the centre of Amsterdam was a beautiful sight and I went there a few times, hoping to see a glimpse of the Royal Queen but I had no luck. Whilst there I had a couple of strolls (only!) down the Red Light area, and this was something else. The windows were decorated with all types of females, in and out of clothes. I was too afraid to take a chance on going into one of the shops as I had been hearing terrible stories about VD, Syphilis and other diseases on the ship. Some said you were not a sailor until you got VD nine times. Being cautious paid off, as a few crew members caught a dose and had to be treated. It was frightening but some fellows continued to chance their luck.
We left Amsterdam and steamed up the Thames, where we docked in Popular and I signed off, on the 5th January, 1950. It was here in Popular that I first got my British Seaman’s identity book in June 1949 and here I was, back again. I reported to the East Ham depot and handed in all my logs and paperwork for the trip. After completing the necessary formalities I was eventually called by Mr Dyer. He paid the salary due to me, at £20.00 per month, less one shilling per month, which was given to some charity or other. I was also given a travel warrant to go home on leave for two weeks.
I packed my bags in record time. Thrilled, delighted, and fully loaded with cash I boarded the Underground at East Ham and got the first available train out of Paddington for Fishguard, to board the Innisfallen for Cork. I posed a severe hazard for people on the Underground and all the way home, as my African souvenirs were seriously dangerous instruments. I had a sharp pointed wooden paddle, about three feet long, tied to one suitcase and a pair of large decorated bull horns strapped to the other case. One suitcase in each hand was difficult but it was almost impossible going down an escalator full of people or on a crowded train! Many got prodded, and I got sworn at several times before I safely stored the bags when aboard the transport. I swore that never again would I be caught out like this.
My parents, and Molly, were not aware I was on my way home as there were no phones in my home and communicating between England and Ireland was by letter or telegram. I usually wrote home from abroad but there was no time for this right now because I reasoned I’d be home just as quickly as a letter would arrive.
It was strange sailing up the river Lee, past our house, watching all the people waving at the Innisfallen, knowing my family were not aware that I was on board. Of course Molly did not know I was onboard either and so was not waiting to see me in Cork, when the boat docked. There was no time to call in to Molly as I wanted to get home quickly. I was in full uniform and feeling proud as a peacock when I got off the train in Cobh. I was not expecting the embarrassment I was soon to cause to a friend and my enjoyment which the episode was going to give me.
At that time, the Irish Naval service had a lot of young cadets whose uniform was the same colour as mine, and they too wore peaked caps. It was common to see army Redcaps (Military Police) on duty at the railway station, ensuring the best behaviour of Irish marines and army personnel, boarding or alighting from the Cork trains. The Redcaps always sprung to attention and saluted when Army or Naval Officers passed. As I approached the barrier I saw Mr. Mac Nicholas, an Army Redcap sergeant whom I knew very well, was on duty at the gate. He did not appear to recognise me in uniform and apparently only saw what he thought was a Naval Officer approaching. He immediately sprung to attention and saluted. I stopped, looked at him, smiled and said,
“Hello, Mr. Mac.”
He gawked, and I can’t repeat what he said when he recognised me, especially as I wore a British Merchant Navy cap badge. Enough said! We laughed later.
There’s a typical Cork greeting when people meet you after you’ve been abroad. Without fail a friend will ask you the following “Are you home again, when are you going back?” It never fails to amuse me. What the hell! I think it’s a grand salutation!
I left the station and walked home, dragging my heavy suitcases. People stared at my souvenirs as I passed and must have thought I was from another planet. It never dawned on me to get a sidecar or other transport, as I had never been used to doing so in the past. When I walked along Harbour Row, I saw Sparky, our black and white mongrel terrier, sitting near the door of my home. When I was about one hundred yards from the house, he jumped to his feet and ran towards me barking with joy, with his tail wagging. I had not said a word or made any signal. I dropped the suitcase and hugged him. There was great excitement when I went into the house. Mammy was overjoyed in her own way.
She made a pot of tea and got her woodbines out and sat while I told her about my trip. Dad came in from work later and was totally surprised to see me. He could not get over my uniform and was very, very proud of me. Anthony was away in the British Navy, and my sister Eileen was married in England. My other sisters came in one by one and we had great chats, and they all got some gift.
I went to Cork to meet Molly. She was in the Bons Hospital having had her appendix out. I had no idea of this until I called to her house and her twin brother Paddy told me about her. I bought a box of chocolates and headed for the hospital. When I got to there I asked for Molly’s ward and bed number. The young nurse looked at me, gawked, and then ran down the corridor without even telling me where Molly was. I followed, and was met at the door by four nurses staring at my uniform and calling Molly. There she was, looking wonderful and fit. We hugged and had to pull the curtains to stop the glances being cast our way. Molly told me later that the nurses asked all kinds of questions about us and she was the center of attention until she was discharged. I called to see her again and we enjoyed our times together, and even went out some days when s
he was strong enough. We had no idea at this time how our futures would merge so closely. As time went by we began to share experiences we had in our individual lives and move closer to each other.
After about twelve days I got a telegram from Marconi, which requested me to report to East Ham. My leave had not yet expired and I was annoyed at being called back early. Being inexperienced, I reported as requested.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
After arriving in East Ham I went through the usual formalities. Here, I had to wait for four days before being assigned to my next ship, s.s Tower Hill. I can’t remember where I stayed in East Ham whilst I kicked my heels. At least I did not have to travel out of London for my new ship as she was berthed close by in Tilbury Docks. Of course, I did not forget my Cork friend, and brought bacon, and Cherry Brandy to him. He was thrilled, and we had a good chat about Cork.
The s.s Tower Hill was registered in London and had a gross tonnage of 7258.17 tons so was one of the sturdiest ships around. Her captain was Captain L. Luishman, Master of the ship and he, along with the Second Mate P.J. Morley and the Third Mate Cyril L. Longhurst were an accomplished crew.
I signed on this ship in Tilbury, London on January 23rd, 1950 for what was set to be a six month voyage. We proceeded from Tilbury into the North Sea and set off to await orders. Everything was running very smoothly with the only discomfort being the cold weather. As we got into the English Channel the weather began to act up, and we had some nasty heavy seas and very heavy sea traffic. Ships seemed to be all around us going up and down the channel, as well as the ferries criss-crossing between the UK and France. Strict watch had to be maintained at all times, as we did not have radar on the ship. I was wondering what the Bay of Biscay would be like this time as we were heading for Gibraltar through the Mediterranean, and on to Port Said in Egypt for orders, where our final destination would be revealed. It was typical with tramp steamers that they are ordered to sea by their owners with no final destination having been directed. The ships would receive their orders whenever the company got business and that could be at any stage along the voyage.