by Jack Lynch
We continued to swap molasses and Crude oil whilst travelling between ports in the Caribbean and the U.S. and eventually loaded a cargo of oil for Stanlow, in Ellesmere Port.
On the trip back to the U.K I sent flowers to Molly and hoped I would not get into trouble again like the last time I had sent flowers. I had previously sent flowers to her, for her birthday, and when I arrived home some time later I was met with a frosty reception from her. She accused me of being home at the time of her birthday and not going to see her. It took me some time to convince her that I had not been home when the flowers arrived to her but that I had used Interflora. She wondered why the flowers had come from the shop in Cobh and not the shop in Cork, closer to her and was convinced that I was not telling the truth that I had been home in Cobh and had not gone to visit her. It took me some time to convince her otherwise but eventually she believed me. She told me the flowers were lovely, but her thoughts about me being home had spoiled the impact. What I wondered did she think I was up to? I never did find out, even after we got married.
Once, during the trip when I contacted Valencia Radio (EJK) to send a Ship’s letter telegram message to Liverpool, the Radio Operator at Valencia advised me to try and send it direct to Landsend Radio (GLD) or Seaforth Radio (GLV) or some other station in the UK, as it would take some time to get from Valencia because they only had ‘Pony Express’ there. A ship’s letter telegram is a communication where a message is sent by radio to the Coast station and is posted by mail to its destination from the station. This was a cheaper type of message to send. It sounded quite funny, but I had actually been trying various UK stations, on medium wave, without success, before trying Valencia. However, I went on to short-wave radio and sent the message through Portishead Radio (GKL/GKS /GKN).
We continued up the Irish Sea and berthed at Stanlow, Ellesmere Port. This was to be the last time I would ever dock at this port as the oil crisis was looming and cargoes became sparse and difficult to obtain. I signed off in Manchester on 7th February 1956 and returned home on full pay while the ship was laid up.
I was greeted happily by all at home and this time the flowers had been delivered to Molly by the Cork shop so I got my brownie points. During the stay Molly and I met quite often and I used to drive around quite a bit and go out visiting a lot but was getting bored and was eager to get back to sea. I had to go to Dover to join my ship again and re-signed on five months later, on the Albert G. Brown in Dover, England on 17th July, 1956.
Most of our trips from now on tended to be with cargoes of molasses from Cuba to Jacksonville, Florida but not every trip could be guaranteed. After any voyage when we transported crude oil, or any non-edible fluids, it was necessary to clean tanks. Usually, the cargo to follow oil was molasses, or fresh water. The cleaning was done using high-pressure hoses that had triple swivelling nozzles with hot water. It was necessary to be in the tank with the hose when this operation was in progress. Most of this cleaning occurred in the Caribbean, around Cuba, where we loaded the molasses. This could often be a hazardous job.
On most trips the ambient temperature was very hot, and I got good rates of pay helping out. On one occasion I was down in the bowels of the tank, using the hose, and after a few hours I felt pain in my chest. It was a bone type pain, but I also felt very weak. I had not drunk any water so I was feeling dehydrated. I decided to climb up the ladder to get out. I don’t know how I managed to get up with the weakness and pain, but at last I got my head above the deck and staggered out. The Captain gave me salt tablets and told me to drink fluids and rest. The doctor diagnosed a cracked clavicle and this finished my tank cleaning for the rest of the time.
Another accident happened to my friend Colby when he was cleaning the tanks. The hose jet skimmed across his eye and caused temporary sight loss. He was lucky that the jet only skimmed across his eye, and even though painful, there was no permanent damage, thankfully.
Our visits to Cuba were frequent, as we picked up Molasses for the States. Vita was our principal port of call, and sometimes we called to Newvitas, which was close by. At the time, Fidel Castro was in the hills fighting the soldiers of the Baptista regime. I heard constant shooting up the hills, and watched as soldiers and police patrolled the streets. There were sandbags everywhere protecting them and it was an uncomfortable sight.
On one trip, as in all ports, the conmen were around trying to fleece us seaman. I was in my cabin when a fellow came in, and looked around as if he suspected someone was within earshot. When he was happy that all was well, he sidled up to me offering me a, ‘genuine diamond ring’ which he had stolen from a wealthy house. It was cut price but definitely genuine he assured me, and he scratched the porthole glass with one of the diamonds to prove it. Eventually, I succumbed to the temptation and gave him two cartons of cigarettes for it and he then scrammed. I kept looking at the ring and felt guilty, and also was not confident that the ring was gold, or that these were real diamonds. After a day I decided to take a chance, and go to the police with the ring, hoping that I would not be classed as a criminal. The police station was close by and was heavily guarded and protected by sandbags. To cut a long story short, the police looked at the ring once and laughed heartily, telling me you could buy them in the local market for a few cents each. I was not charged and went back to the ship feeling silly, and vowing never to be caught again. I still have this ring though!
One night, there was panic ashore as Castro’s men came down from the hills and attacked the town. The crack of rifles and machine guns sounded very close to us, and I saw the flashes as bullets were fired. Baptista’s soldiers and police were running for cover and shouting. The Captain let go of all lines, and we made a hasty retreat out to sea until the rumpus subsided. Later the following day we again tied up alongside the quay but kept a wary eye out for more trouble. That was the one and only time we had to leave in a hurry but it was enough for us.
Around this time there was a surplus of ships and tankers due to the oil crisis and cargoes were difficult to come by. We had just arrived in Jacksonville, Florida with a cargo of molasses and were ordered to tie up, and lay up the ship, as no cargoes could be found. It was a big shock to all of us and most of the crew were discharged and sent home. On board there were only a few of us left. The Captain took leave himself and this left Colby Jackson as the Senior Mate. I too was retained with the Third Engineer and Second cook. The Pumpman made up the full complement of crew on this large ship.
Colby got his wife to come over from Grand Cayman and she stayed onboard with us. As well as being on full salary, we were given substantial daily subsistence allowance, which we hoarded as there was plenty of food onboard, and we also had the cook. Unfortunately, things changed dramatically one night whilst I was the only one onboard. Colby, his wife, and the pump man had gone ashore. The cook and Third Engineer were also ashore boozing. I saw a police car pull up at the gangway, and a cop came up and asked to see the Captain. I explained the situation to him, and said I was the only Officer on board. He then asked me if I would accompany him to the local jailhouse. I asked why, and he said there had been an accident involving one of the crew members, who had been shot in the neck and that a second crew member was being held for manslaughter. I was very nervous because I did not know what to expect, or which of the crew members were involved. At this stage I was not told that the cook and engineer were the men being referred to. When I got to the jail I saw the poor cook in a cell amongst other prisoners. It turned out that the Third Engineer was dead, and the cook was being held in jail for his manslaughter. The inmates looked a tough bunch and were taunting the poor cook, who was devastated and was crying like a baby. I wished I could have taken him back to ship, but nothing could console him. He explained to me what had happened. Both he and the Third Engineer picked up two girls and went back with them. The cook was drunk and the Third Engineer had a few as well, but apparently not as much. One of the girls produced a gun which she said was for protection.
The cook took the gun and started playing with it. The Third Engineer got nervous and tried to take the gun from him, but the cook wanted to hold onto it. There was a struggle and the gun went off. The bullet entered the Third Engineer’s throat, and lodged in his neck. He died soon after. I got on to the shipping agents, who hired lawyers, and eventually the Cook was deported to Aruba, from where he came. I never heard about him again. During this time I had the job of getting the Third Engineer‘s personal belongings together, to ship home to India. I found photos of his wife and child, and felt dreadful imaging how they would feel. The shipping agents had his body shipped back to India. This had really put a damper on our stay in Jacksonville and we were all very low after this.
The Captain and crew eventually returned when we were chartered to collect a cargo of oil and we took off for the West Coast of the USA, via the Panama Canal. This was a repeat experience going through the locks, watching and feeling the ship lifting, and falling, as the locks filled up and emptied. There was great activity as men with very high-pressure hoses continued to cut away at the sides of the cliffs on the Canal. It was fascinating to watch, as mechanical Mules pulled the ship through the locks. The whole thing was a marvel of engineering.
When we arrived in San Pedro California, I was looking forward to seeing this port for the first time. Ashore, I bought myself a suit and cream tie. I suppose, in retrospect, the suit was OK but the tie, oh dear! It was my first taste of shopping in San Pedro, and there were salesmen outside the shops trying their best to get a sale, or a sucker. The reason I bought the suit was because the fellow offered me an extra pair of trousers free. Anyway I found it great fun, and later used to bring home dresses for Molly, which she rarely liked or which never fitted her. I had no idea of what she would or would not like. However, she loved the towels and sheets that I brought home. You could not get the quality at home in those days.
Days later, on the trip along the East Coast, I began to feel unwell and became very jittery at night. If somebody made a sound, even switching on a light, I got a shock that travelled from my stomach to my throat and into my head. It was very unpleasant, and it happened quite often and I began to worry about it, without having any idea what it might be. Then, when we were in port, I was in the loo one morning and felt dizzy and faint. When I went to flush the toilet I noticed my stool was black as soot. Fortunately, we were in port so I could do something about this.
In Long Beach, California, my friend Dr. Chris Walsh from Cobh, and Dr. Mike Riordan from Cork City, were attached to St. Mary’s Hospital. I told Chris about it and he immediately had me in hospital for X-rays and tests and these showed I had an active duodenal ulcer. The Irish nuns and Chris were a wonderful help and took good care of me. I was immediately put on antibiotics and a special diet. It was awful. I was banned from taking tea, coffee, or any types of condiments. I had to consume plenty of milk, bananas, soft cheese, and other tasteless bits and pieces. Though the net result was constipation it did start to help improve the symptoms of my ulcer, making me feel better.
During this period we had another bad accident on board the ship. Tanks were being cleaned and made gas free for welding work to start the following day. The gasses build up after oil is transported and discharged. A certificate of clearance was issued and the ship was ready. Next day, 29th May 1957, I was at the hospital with Chris and Mike, when we heard a loud explosion from the San Pedro side of the Harbour. Immediately, there was great activity in the hospital as ambulances took off with sirens screaming. I heard the fire engines going hell for leather. Chris and Mike were summoned to Emergency, and I headed back to the ship, not knowing that the explosion had taken place there. When I got to the docks there were firemen, police and ambulances around the ship which was tied up at berth 241 in the shipyard. Parts of the tank cover were lying on the wharf, and there was a pungent smell of oil. I did not know what to expect, and even after identifying myself, was not allowed to go onboard for quite some time. Fortunately, none of the crew was injured, but one workman named Frank Rawlings, a welder, suffered third degree burns and subsequently died, and four more were seriously injured. It was another tragic accident that left us all badly shaken.
Apparently, there had been a minor fire in this same tank the previous Tuesday, and this had been put out. Now the tanks were certified gas free and work had commenced, with Mr. Rawlings going into the tank, where he lit his welding machine. BOOM! The tank exploded. Somebody had carelessly opened a cofferdam which is a tank that held fuel oil, after the gas free certificate had been issued for the main cargo tanks, and everybody failed to notice this error. The Captain was called to the investigations which followed, but he was exonerated and he continued as our Captain. I never did ask him about it and he never did mention it.
My ulcer was still a problem and Chris asked me if I wanted to go home for treatment by Dr. Denis Wilson, in Cobh, and I reluctantly agreed, because I could not go to sea without medical backup. Chris spoke to Captain Vice, and told him I should be sent home, and the Captain asked me to consider going into the Seaman’s Hospital, in San Francisco, which I was reluctant to do. Later I signed off in San Pedro, California, on July 12th, 1957 where I was flown home on sick leave with an active duodenal ulcer. Little did I know what a shock awaited me when I called to see Molly.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Finally, after such a traumatic trip I was home. On arrival back to Ireland, landing in Shannon airport, I decided to get breakfast before my journey back to Cork. I was very disappointed with the breakfast I received there. It was cold and the fried eggs looked worn out. They were semi-hard and did not look at all appetising. In fact I did not touch them and was glad to get on the bus for Cork and then the train to Cobh. The ulcer was not helping my mood or comfort so it was with relief that I eventually arrived home and reported to Dr. Wilson, whose instructions were for me to continue with the diet. A few weeks on the diet again and I soon began to feel much better physically but was still quite edgy.
When I flew home from Texas I had a large suitcase which was very overweight for the plane and the shipping agent said he would put it on a ship named Irish Larch which was due in port and would be calling into Cork on her return voyage. I gladly availed of this offer and sure enough the Irish Larch arrived while I was at home and I duly collected my bag. It had never entered my head that the Irish Larch would be involved directly in my life when I used to see her coming into Cork Harbour before I went to sea.
I went to Cork soon after I felt I was improving and called to see Molly. Her twin, Paddy, answered the door and was delighted to see me, and we began chatting. Then the bombshell was delivered. Molly was engaged to be married. This possibility had never occurred to me. Sure, we were leading our own lives but on my terms. I had not contemplated marriage up to now, and it did not cross my mind that Molly might have other ideas. So what do I do now? Molly was out at the cinema with her mother. This they did most days, either going to the Pavilion or the Savoy to see the latest tearjerker. I decided to go for a walk, contemplate my next move, and decide if I should do anything.
My mind made up, I went back to the house that evening. Molly answered the door. We were both awkward with each other at first, and went into the sitting room to talk. I was sure that Molly’s mother and Paddy were straining their ears at the door, trying to hear what was going on. Molly and I sat down, and I asked her what she was doing with the ring on her finger. She hesitated, and just said that she was going to get married. I moved closer to her, held her hand, looked at her blue eyes which had tears in them, and asked her who the guy was. She told me his name and I had never heard of him but I knew his brother by reputation as he was a top Irish International soccer player. My only thought was, ‘I have to stop this from happening.’Molly is my girl and I intend to marry her.
“Are you sure that is what you want?” I asked. She stayed quiet for a while and tears began to flow. “Molly, darling will you marry me?” I whispered, as I caught her in my arm
s. She jumped as if I had hit her.
“But I’m engaged, and can’t back out now.” she said.
“Marry me darling, and give the ring back to him. There is no shame, or crime in this, pet,” I said, as I looked her straight in the eyes.
She threw her arms around my neck and said yes. She promised to return the ring and marry me. My heart leaped and I was overcome with joy. Now, we had to announce this to the family. I had to ask for Molly’s hand from her Mother.
“Ma, we did it.” Molly said when we went into the kitchen.
A strange look came into her Mother’s eyes, and Paddy also looked enquiringly, if not embarrassed.
Ma blurted out, “What have you done, child?”
Then it dawned on Molly and me that Molly’s choice of words could mean a number of things. What did ‘it’ mean?
Molly said, “We decided to get married.”
“Oh,” said Ma, with a sigh of relief, “that’s fine then.”
Calm reigned again when I now asked for Molly’s hand, which Mrs. Kiely immediately agreed to, and gave me a big hug. Paddy was thrilled.
Returning the ring was not pleasant for Molly, and caused hurt to the other guy who wanted to know who I was so that he could ‘fix’ me. This never happened, even though he found out about me. The family were quite happy with Molly’s decision, and so were mine. I brought her down to see them, even though she had previously met most of them.
I remember in the early days of our engagement we went to the Tivoli restaurant, and I asked Molly what she would like. She ordered tea and a bun. I said I was going to get bacon, eggs, and sausages, and asked her if she did not want to change her mind. She stuck to her tea and scone, and I tucked into my breakfast. Later, she told me she envied me eating that breakfast, but she was too shy to order a big meal. I admonished her for this, but it didn’t take her too long to stand-up for what she wanted. This little episode made me realise how innocent we were, and really how little we knew about each other.