Beyond The Sea

by Jack Lynch

  Molly used to go up with Ann to see her family a fair bit whilst we were in Cobh but I never went near the house until a long time later, when Molly asked me to meet her mother. She said her mother wanted to make up and I reluctantly agreed to also for Moll’s sake, but I never again intended to spend a night in the house. Ma was true to her word, we both made up and as we later moved on and got our own home she used to stay with us on many occasions.

  During my period of leave when Ann was a baby and we were living in Cobh I loved to go down to the Deepwater Quay to watch whatever ships were tied up there and one day I watched as the tug m.v. Turmoil pulled in alongside. She had been stationed in Cobh for many years and was a very popular sight as she had been involved in the famous, but futile, attempt to save the American ship, the Flying Enterprise. The Turmoil was manned by mainly Cobhmen, and had two Radio Officers on board whom I knew -Tony Byrne and Sean Leahy. Sean asked me if I would standby for him, as he wanted the weekend off to go to Cork with his wife. There had to be two Radio Officers on board at all times so I thought ‘Why not?’ It was only for two days at most and Bernuth Lembcke would give me at least a week’s notice when they needed me. I figured it would be a simple enough job. I went home and told Molly, who was not too worried either. All discussed, I decided to sign on, and met Ger Kelleher, the Shipping agent, who was a good friend of mine as I signed the dotted line. I had no inkling of what lay ahead for both Molly and me and the anguish we would suffer as I signed on this ship. I expected to just sit aboard doing a watch keeping spell for the weekend but providence was about to intervene.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  After I signed on the m.v. Turmoil, on the 6th May, 1959, I familiarised myself with the ship’s call-sign; GMWK and I took up Radio watch on the distress frequency, which was maintained twenty four hours per day, even when the ship was in port. I was relaxed and at ease, expecting this to be a very simple and easy couple of days but after about five hours we got orders to proceed into the Atlantic, where a ship was in distress. Despite my assurances to Molly that this I would return home in a two days this turned out to be my thirteenth deep sea voyage.

  The Turmoil, which had been built 14 years previous, was chartered out to Overseas Towage and Salvage Company. She had been built by Henry Robb Leith of Scotland for the Admiralty and her gross tonnage was 1136.13. Immediately after the distress call was received the ship’s hooter sounded off, calling the crew from home and only giving them fifteen minutes to board as we prepared to cast off. If a call back was at night time a message was flashed on the screens of the local cinemas also, to ensure all possible avenues of communication were covered. Word soon spread around the town that Turmoil was again going to sea on a rescue mission.

  I got word to Molly quickly, who was looking out of the window from Harbour Row and I watched her waving a white handkerchief as we steamed by, rounded the Spit lighthouse, and headed out to Roche’s Point. Baby Ann was with her, and Molly later told me that Fats Waller was singing Blueberry Hill’ as we passed her by. I had tears in my eyes, but felt we would not be away for more that a few days, but had the added worry that Bernuth Lembcke might call me for work while I was at sea.

  As we approached the distress area we had a message saying another tug was already there and we were not required. I was delighted and thought. ‘Great! Now we can go back again, and in a few hours I’ll see my family.’ How wrong I was! A further message told us to proceed to Antwerp in Belgium, and pick up a large French tanker, named, s.s. Bourgogne, and tow it for scrapping to La Spezia, Italy. We headed into the English Channel and the North Sea towards Belgium to fulfil our contract and I was very annoyed because I did not know how long I would be away from my precious girls.

  We collected the tanker and began towing it in calm sea through the Channel but when we got towards the Bay of Biscay the weather took a turn for the worst and the waves began to get bigger. Fortunately, it was not a full gale, but it was frightening. I had no experience of this kind of work before and though I found that the tug was powerful, despite its small size, when I saw the towing hauser fully taut, with this large hunk of ship behind, I wondered what would happen if the hauser snapped. I tried to visualise the wire snapping, and then hearing a cracking noise as it came lashing towards us, cutting everything in its way. The most frightening aspect was when we were down in the trough of a wave, and the ship behind loomed high on the crest of the following wave. Then, as the tug climbed the next wave, the looming ship started to descend down the last wave. I felt she would come crashing down on our tug and it was frightening. Thankfully, it never happened, and the hauser kept automatically adjusting to the strains, and stresses of towing. We made good time and soon passed Gibraltar and headed into the Mediterranean which was calm and sunny.

  When we arrived in La Spezia, Italy, we unhooked from the tanker and restocked our larders. Our stay was short but I got ashore for a short walk around. It was a beautiful place and on this day the sun shone brightly and it was quite warm. There were a lot of naval personnel around as this was a large naval port. The place looked like a tropical holiday resort, and though I was hoping for more time there I was also keen to head back towards Cobh, which looked to be happening very soon, or so I thought.

  The next day another message arrived telling us to proceed to Milford Haven in Lancashire for further orders. Although I was disappointed not to be heading straight back home I was relieved that at least I could get off in the UK, as I did not want to push my luck and I hoped Sean Leahy would meet us there and replace me allowing me to return home. In Milford Haven the agent arrived, gave us our mail and issued us with a new set of orders. The tug was to go across the Atlantic and proceed to Baltimore, Maryland to assist other tugs tow two obsolete American aircraft carriers to Japan. Without a second thought I signed off immediately. I was hoping the tug would return to station in Cobh but no such luck. Most of the lads signed off here in Milford Haven too and we all went home together. There was no way was I going on this long voyage to the United States with my new baby Annl waiting at home.

  A number of the Cobh lads accompanied me home and we had great craic on the journey back. None of them fancied going on the trip either and it was great to have the company on the trip back to Cork. It was wonderful to be back in Cobh with my family again, and it was another month of bliss before I was again called to go and rejoin my next ship. Ann seemed to have grown even more over these weeks, and Molly looked radiant. I felt I never wanted to leave them again but my sea life had not yet ended and I had to return to fulfil my destiny.

  Note on the history of the Turmoil.

  I’ve since researched the ship to find out its fate and have learned that the m.v. Turmoil earned her place in salvage history during the Flying Enterprise saga, and was stationed in Cobh, until December 1959. In 1965 she was sold and had her name changed to Nisos Kerkyra; which is a port on the coast of Corfu, Greece. In 1971 her name was again changed to Matsas, by the firm Loucas G., the largest Salvage and Towage Company in Greece. She was painted white and emblazoned with the Maltese cross on the funnel and she was finally broken up at Perama, Greece in January 1986.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  My destiny was to take my back to the United States again, this time on board the tanker m.v. Kiora on what was to be my 13th, and last, deep sea voyage via Rotterdam, the Panama Canal and Seattle. The ship, which was also owned by Bernuth Lembcke Company, New York, was a WWII T2 Tanker and was registered in Monrovia, Liberia. I signed on in Killingholme, Scotland on July 18th, 1959 yet although I signed on in Scotland I actually joined the ship in Dover, England where I had been told to report to join the Kiora, as it passed up the English Channel. I waited for three days for the ship to arrive and thoroughly enjoyed myself there. The shipping agents were in constant touch with me, and eventually advised me that the ship was due to pass Dover the following day. The Kiora was on its way to Rotterdam, Holland and had another Radio Officer on board who I would be replacing.
I rejoined it from the Pilot launch, which took me from the port, out in the Channel, to the ship. As there was another Radio Officer onboard, I was therefore classed as a passenger, or supernumery, and did not take over duties until the ship arrived back in Killingholme, Scotland. Once we hit Scotland the other Radio Officer signed off and left the ship. Apparently, he had only been employed for this trip. I commenced work at this point.

  Captain Catlender, whom I had sailed with earlier on the Albert G. Brown, was in command and was his usual hearty self. It was great to work with him again and we carried on as if we had never been apart. It was strange because Captain Vice never again came into my life, nor did Colby Jackson. I still think of them both and often wonder what happened to them.

  Our trip from here took us across the Atlantic, to the Panama Canal, and up the west coast of the USA. The ship headed for Seattle, Washington and arrived there on August 22nd, 1959. Again, we only had a short time there before we had to leave. I spent some time fishing for salmon but with no luck, a far cry from my youth when I never missed a bite. My mind was constantly on my family and I had already decided that this trip would be my last. I posted my usual letter to Molly when we arrived and was pleased that there was one there for me as well. Everything at home appeared to be great and I was looking forward to getting back and settling down. On the way back it was all plain sailing, as the saying goes, and when I returned to Grangemouth and signed off on November 10th 1959, my sea going days had finally come to an end. I travelled light on the way home, with a burning longing to be with the people I loved.

  I returned to my family, prepared to enjoy myself as I practiced becoming a landlubber after 10 years on the high seas. All in all, I had a great time at sea. I felt that all the leave I had with Bernuth Lembcke had prepared me settle down, and get over the longing to remain at sea. Some other fellows were not so lucky and could not stay ashore for any long length of time.

  I was ready to embark on the next phase of my life; one that was to hold many moments of love, affection, grief, fun and joy, one that was to create many new and wonderful memories for me to treasure beyond the sea.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  Molly and Ann had moved back to Cork while I was at sea and I did not want to upset Molly by asking her to come to Cobh with me when I packed up my life at the sea. I therefore decided to swallow my pride and on assurances of Ma that there would be no more interference I stayed with her, and lived in Cork. While there, we had a very upsetting episode in our lives. Ann was still a little baby when Molly became pregnant, and suffered a miscarriage. Her Ma, fortunately, took over as usual, and I believe the baby would have been about five weeks at the time of the miscarriage. We were distraught but Molly and I got over the shock, and we settled down to our normal life. However, there was no work at home that suited me so we decided to embark on a journey that would eventually take us to London, Dundalk, and Dublin.

  The three of us got the Innisfallen to England and settled at number 28, Hanger Lane in Acton, London. We rented a one room flat. The landlady was at first reluctant to take us with a baby. This worried us because we had to get somewhere to live, and we pleaded our case. However, she said she would take a chance. It was difficult to get rooms when there was a young baby involved and we had a number of refusals before we tried this house. We had scoured all the ‘Room to rent’ addresses advertised in various shops before we got lucky here. We stayed there until we bought a house in Arlington Road, West Ealing, W13 after about 6 months. While we were in Hanger Lane, the landlady used to watch for any pram marks on the walls, and floor, and kept a tight rein on the lodgers. No noise was permitted. The room was about ten feet by twelve but the paintwork was not great. The ceiling was papered, and two sections were starting to peel off. A gas fire, and small gas cooking hob were our means of heating, and cooking. We had to feed the gas meter on a regular basis.

  Next to our room there was another room, occupied by a dodgy character, who was big, fat, and slovenly looking. When I went off to work in the morning Molly kept the bedroom door locked, and usually waited until this guy left the house, before she went for a walk with Ann. One evening when I came home Molly was in a dreadful state, frightened, and tearful. She told me that when I left for work in the morning, she had Ann in the bed with her, and of course Ann was jumping around, causing the headboard to bang against the wall of the adjoining room. He took this as a signal from poor Molly that ‘the coast is clear, I’m waiting.’ He immediately tried to get into our room, and Molly told him to go away. He persisted, and eventually the landlady heard her cries for help. She immediately gave him notice to get out of the house. After that we became great friends with the landlady.

  One Saturday morning we were in bed, and as usual Ann was in the cot next to us. I don’t know what woke us, but Ann had been jumping around in the cot, and suddenly she went quiet. I looked at the cot, and there was no sign of Ann, accept a pair of tiny legs wriggling, and sticking up between the cot, and our bed. She had been trying to get into our bed, and fell between the bed, and cot, and her face was virtually stuck into our mattress. All was well, and she was none the worse for her escapade.

  We had been actively looking for a house to buy, and eventually we found our first home at 24, Arlington Road, in West Ealing, W13 and we paid around £4,000 for it. I had a fair deposit accumulated from my time at sea so we did not have too large a mortgage to repay. However my job as Electronics inspector at E.M.I. Hayes in Middlesex was not great so we had to supplement our income some way. My pay was £11.00 per week. In fact I was paid by the hour and I remember I was given the usual one penny an hour rise.

  The layout of the house comprised, four bedrooms upstairs, and downstairs we had a sitting room, which we converted to our double bedroom, and where later Sean, and Jane were born. We had another room, plus a dining room, and finally a kitchen. There was also an outside toilet. We took in lodgers, supplied them with bed, linen, and bathing facilities. We also washed the linen. We had to get metered heating, and cooking facilities, installed in each room we let out. Sometimes we could have up to four people lodging with us, including married couples, or two girls to a room. It was a hair-raising experience to encounter the carryings on with some of these people. These are a few examples.

  One old lady, who had been put out of another house because of her age, was delighted to come, and stay with us. However, we had a rule that the downstairs was ours, and no lodger was to encroach there. Over a period, when the old lady had been with us for a while, she felt like one of the family, and took a shine to Ann. This led her into the kitchen, and out into the back garden. Eventually she wore us down, and we got quite friendly towards her. Later, when we had to sell the house, it was heart-rending for Molly to let her go. The old dear cried, sobbed, and wondered where she was going to stay. Since she had plenty of notice, she did eventually find a place.

  We had a fellow who was a runner for the bank. He was spick, and span. Well groomed is an expression that falls well on him. He would have been in his mid thirties, and never seemed to have friends, men or women, and he said that he was unmarried. All in all he was one of the better lodgers.

  We had a big fat man who was an engineer. Again he paid his rent, and did not cause us any grief, but we were suspicious of him. He did not appear to have any male or female friends and he never mentioned any, but Molly would not let Ann, Sean or Jane near him. Moll’s sister, Anne, was in the house one day. Anne said to Molly, “Don’t worry about him, he’s neuter gender.”

  There was another lodger, a woman whom Molly christened ‘The Cougher.’ The woman was in her forties, and she was a heavy smoker. This was the cause of the constant coughing. She also had another annoying habit of coming out of the bathroom with powder all over her feet, and walking on the stair’s carpet to her bedroom. She never wore slippers or cleaned up her feet marks. Eventually, we had to give her notice to quit, because of this, and the coughing at night.

  In the front double bedro
om we had a wonderful young couple that stayed for about a year. They were class, and absolutely no trouble. This was in complete contrast to the two young Irish girls who took the room after them. We had nothing but trouble from these. The first sign was the loud music, which we had to curb on a number of occasions. When threatened with notice they of course knew all the ropes, and it was easy to figure out we would be tested to the limit. I started to make notes of times, dates, and warnings, etc. to get rid of these girls. On one occasion I found that they had removed the landing bulb, and inserted the plug of their iron into the socket. They hoped to save paying for their electricity by doing this, as the lights on the landings were our responsibility. The stress on the iron pulled the wires from the ceiling rose, and I had to repair the damage.

  We had a rule that no boyfriends were allowed. One night at about ten-thirty p.m I was passing by the bathroom, and heard grunting, and whispering. I immediately became suspicious, called Molly, and we waited out of sight at the bottom of the stairs, and near the light switch. Eventually, the bathroom door opened, and one of the girls appeared, and looked around. She then signalled, and a young buck came out, and started to come down the stairs, careful not to make any noise. When he was halfway down, I switched on the light, and accosted him. The expression of disbelief, and fear, in his eyes was something to see. He stood transfixed. I threatened to have him arrested, for breaking and entering. He spluttered that the girl invited him. Great, now I had the evidence I wanted, and told him to get to hell out of the house. I never saw anybody move so fast. The girl was watching pale faced, at what was happening, and ran upstairs when she saw me coming up. I knocked on the door, of the bedroom and told the girls they had to be out by nine a.m. the following morning. They threatened to take me to the rent tribunal, as they were entitled to a week’s notice. I said no way were they going to stay here for a week, and that if they refused I would get the police, and tell them what had happened. They were gone by eight-thirty a.m. next morning.