# Ropner Memories



## k.atkinson

Sir Robert Ropner Shipping founded 1874 taken over by Jacobs Holdings in 1995. Incorporated into Bidcorp Shipping (Bidvest of South Africa) then 2005 re-branded as Dart Line at Dartford. Ceased ship management 2006.
In 1964 at age fourteen in school we were being prepared for the world of work as we could leave at age fifteen the following Summer. Some would go straight to shops or factories while others would go to either Commercial or Technical College via entrance examination. I decided to be a marine engineer like many “following father’s example”. With little information in the library and no internet to search my father and myself drove from York to Liverpool to visit some well-known shipping offices. Here we found out the requirements for the Alternative Training Scheme for Marine Engineers and lots of other relevant information like training colleges as the traditional apprenticeship in heavy engineering or shipbuilding was not available in York.
Possibly the nearest ship owner was Sir Robert Ropner based in Darlington so an appointment was made. Here I was interviewed by Mr Whitehead the Personnel Director. When he had concluded, informing me of the timetable of events and academic requirement of ordinary level passes in English, maths, physics and another I was asked to sit outside while he talked to my father. Although my parents were born and bred in West Hartlepool it was about twenty years later that I was told that my responsible respectable parent had run-away from home and school and stowed away on the SS Ingleby at the local Hartlepool docks in 1929 where he sailed to Genoa before returning home. Ropners offered him a deck apprenticeship but his father, a draughtsman, insisted he served an engineering apprenticeship. Overhearing the details of the fuss my father had caused was a young office boy called Whitehead and now out of my hearing they were swopping memories of these events featured in the newspapers. On a visit to the South Shields Marine School my father and I met the Principal, Bill Embleton who had been his Course Tutor when studying for his certificates and responsible for the Reeds series of text books.
Having achieved the minimum requirements, I started at South Shields Marine and Technical College in September 1966 as one of four Ropner Engineer Cadets although we also signed Indentures as Marine Engineer Apprentices. One dropped out quickly and another called Goonatilleke, spelt approximately, from Ceylon was older and in another group. Bill Smart from Middlesbrough stayed with me through college and some sea training. Our group also contained cadets from P&O, Trident Tankers, Shaw Saville, Ellermans and others. All first years were supposed to be housed in the Dr. Winterbottom Hall of Residence, learning a mix of academic subjects and workshop skills. We were the last cadets at the original Marine School in Ocean Road for one day a week, now a pub called Kirkpatricks and another day at an old school in Beach Road, a block of flats now built there with the summer spent on college training courses such as welding. My second year was at Westoe Towers, a Catholic hotel in the village followed in the third year at 66 Julian Avenue on the Lawe Top which overlooks the mouth of the Tyne. Summer was spent travelling through the Tyne Tunnel to the North East Marine Engine Works in Wallsend. I was given a clock card which I ignored, attached to a fitter who like many had been to sea and had the job of preparing pistons for repair. Most of my time there was spent roaming the works observing the casting, forging, machining, preparation and assembly of engines and also counting rubber fish floating down the Tyne. The third year or reverse phase three was a mix of Naval Architecture, Electricity and dismantling and assembling pumps with finger-tight nuts. The Scotch boiler was occupied by all of us but the lecturer could see our location by the smoke emanating. One workshop lecturer, Brian McDearmid, had just left Texaco as a chief and was to become head of engineering and I was pleased to introduce him to my son who was about to start as a third generation engineer there.


----------



## k.atkinson

ROMANBY - Detail (4), West Hartlepool, IMO 5299060, 10,488grt, 16,175 Summer DWT, 14,580 dwt on 30’ draught, built 1957 (Sir James Laing & Sons, Sunderland, yard 808 – the largest cargo vessel built in Britain to date), Hawthorn-Leslie Doxford LB 2SA 5cyl 670mm bore x 2320 stroke with 2 lever operated diaphragm superchargers, 5500bhp @ 115rpm & 13.5 knots. 3 x 200kw 220v D.C. Allen gens. 5 holds with ‘tweendecks & 10 x 5ton derricks for the Ropner Shipping Co. Ltd. 1969 sold to Greece renamed *SALLY*. 1971 renamed *SANDRA N*. 1973 renamed *CANTON*. 1973 sold same name. 1974 sold renamed *TOMABI*. 1976 sold renamed *SWEDE SURPRISE*. 1983 scrapped at Chittagong.
ROMANBY – Voyage Liverpool 18/8/69 to Glasgow, around top of Scotland to London to Antwerp to Hamburg 16/9.69 & 17/9/69 to Dakar, Senegal for Phosphate to Avonmouth 16/10/69.
Bill Smart & I Joined in Liverpool as nineteen-year-old 1st trip cadets with a 2nd trip deck cadet who was younger than us. We occupied two double cabins with bunks connected by a study area in the midships block. Each morning I took a boiler water and jacket water sample to the Engineer’s Office and after testing took the results to the Chief next door. The Officers Smoke Room contained a piano but both were little used as most socialising was in the cabins. The engine came with a couple of lever-operated scavenge pumps or superchargers which I had to squeeze inside to change some broken spring plates with my legs wrapped round the rod and the piston descending towards me which reminded me of a giant coffee strainer. The off-balance Sharples lubricating oil purifiers required cleaning twice a day which devolved to me to dismantle each watch. Alarms were limited to “Monitor of Wallsend” pneumatic whistles which operated when the pressure dropped on the lubricating oil, jacket water and sea water cooling systems. Hammers and flogging spanners of various sizes were the main maintenance tools. Temperature control was by manually adjusting a valve. The switchboard was open with only a rail to keep you away from the electricity. After breakfast we took it in turns to go in uniform to the nearest paper shop for the other engineers. In which dock we were berthed I cannot remember except that it was half-way up a long road. In the days before containers, we were a traditional general cargo ship with a diverse cargo from China requiring a gang of Liverpool stevedores. After a week’s delay due to a docker’s strike and looking over the hatch coaming I saw them taking up various positions in the hold seven horizontal and one vertical. We went into Liverpool and saw “Oh What a Lovely War” at a cinema, saw the semi-derelict property known as “the Cavern Club” but with nobody playing when I looked in, visited some more pubs and a night club. Two J/E’s, failed to arrive & the other was a scrap yard dealer over 40. Although we should not have been on night watches Bill was paired with the 3rd Mike Rose & I with the 2nd, Ron Fidler, a former bouncer from the North Shields Jungle (Northumberland Arms Hotel near the Ferry Landing originally a residence of the Duke of Northumberland and now a block of posh flats called Collingwood Mansions) now a dispensation 2nd but competent for all that. I was sick after sailing but I think drinking until the early hours and sailing before breakfast with little sleep was the main cause. I was asked to nip up the leaking stern gland but only made a half-hearted attempt as it involved crouching in water with the rotating shaft close to my head. He led by example by not hesitating to complete my job which I thought difficult and uncomfortable and taught me a valuable lesson. He also assured me that I would come to like curry & he was right.

In Glasgow and tied up to the Meadowside Quay we walked through a rat-infested warehouse to a nearby pub where the Chief looked about, identified everybody & decided that as we were all there the donkey-man could be duty-dog. We were passing through the Pentland Firth & I went up to the funnel door to find Ron there admiring the scenery but after a couple of minutes he went back commenting “one of us should be down there”. Unknown at the time my parents were on holiday in that area in their camper van. Dispensations for uncertificated second engineers were becoming difficult to obtain & we met again @ South Shields Marine where he was leaving a 2nd’s electric class & I was starting a Chiefs. As the Saloon was in the aft accommodation & deck officers & cadets were in the mid-ships bridge section the cabin boy walked forward ringing his bell until it left the handle in his hand & flew over the open hatch coaming to join the cargo. Talking of cargo – I went to check the steering gear and saw at my feet a pair of Wilkinson Sword rose secateurs. Examining the floors above I found another both of which are still in use. The cargo we were discharging had originated in China so must have been part of a previous cargo with a previous crew. After part discharges in London and Antwerp we finished off in Hamburg. By Hamburg we also had a relief 2nd and they thought it their duty to take 2 cadets around the Zillertal drinking and music hall and other more-sleazy establishments of St. Pauli & the Reeperbahn as part of our education.

We sailed for Dakar in Senegal where I bought a primitive native oil painting for 3 pairs of washed underpants & 6 bars of Lux soap. Finally, we berthed at West Wharf 4, Avonmouth, 17th October 1969 discharging a cargo of phosphate rock loaded at Dakar from where she sailed on 26th September, arriving on 9th October. After discharge we sold the ship to the Greeks so we went home. Instead of our familiar green and rust they changed it to a smart yellow and black and called her _Sally_. - LSI 5th November says "to be renamed SALLY (Greek)"


----------



## k.atkinson

*WANDBY - Detail* (3) 1959 West Hartlepool, GB O.N. 301537, IMO 5385883, 17,170 dwt, 11545.34grt, 5760.28 nrt, 158.1m long, completed 10/1959 Bartram & Sons, South Dock (yard 372) Sunderland, geared bulk carrier with 5 holds & 10 derricks 14 knots, 4cyl NEM-Doxford 700LBDS4 No. 3332, supercharged with 2 x lever operated scavenge pumps & 2 x exhaust gas turbochargers, 6350 b.h.p. 1 Spanner Exh. Gas & 1 Spanner oil fired boiler. 32 x diesel generators plus Peter Brotherhood steam turbine generator. 1972 sold to Ouse Shipping Co. Ltd., Piraeus, Greece renamed *SEA RANGER*, 1984 sold to Ledra Shipping Ltd., Valetta, Malta renamed *LEDRA*. 3/6/84 arrived BU Gadani Beach, Karachi (Dada Steel Mills).

*WANDBY - *The _Wandby_ of 1959 was a typical cut-price test bed with exhaust gas turbo-blowers and lever operated scavenge pumps (a belt and braces concept). The side rod top keep-nuts required a 14-pound hammer to slacken which was not a problem unless you were slightly built like my brother cadet who when moving the hammer head behind him followed it for three steps. Standing on a plank inside the crankcase to remove the piston rod nut the third and myself took it in turns to slacken the nut using a three-foot long flogging spanner and a 56lb hammer (half an anvil). Usual practice was tighten with a 14 and slacken with a 28. I have only ever seen another sledge hammer of that size and would have liked to have met the man who tightened it and asked him if he had ever heard of metallurgy. The cylinder lubrication system automatically required the junior to carry an oilcan to the pump and fill it up with the exhaust belt keeping your head warm. The steam turbine generator was a mystery for all except one 3rd who knew how to start it. The refrigeration machinery was located within the steering flat and somebody had created a small box around the expansion valves. A few tins of beer were located there at the start of a watch to become cold at the end as this was before cabin fridges became available. A junior seeking a clean sea-washed boiler suit fed a dirty one out of a porthole in this space tied to a length of line but there was little left when he hauled it back in. The more traditional and effective way was a 45-gallon oil drum with water and soap invigorated with a steam lance.

*WANDBY - Voyage one* 11/11/69 Dunkirk to Libya twice to 25/12/69 anchor off Calais to Swan Hunter dry-dock on River Tyne until (few days leave included re-join in dry-dock) 27/1/70 2m17d, change articles 28/1/70 to 4/2/70 8d, new articles 5/2/70 left Tyne to New Orleans 24/2/70 to Poland & back to New Orleans 28/4/70, Panama Canal 13th May & June (3 weeks Manzanillo and 3 weeks Mazatlan in Mexico) 3/7/70 Baltimore (4th July tourist in Washington). To New Orleans for Copenhagen in July. Quebec to Rotterdam in August & flight to London 29/8/70 6m25d & 5 weeks leave.

*WANDBY - Voyage one*
Joining the _Wandby_ in Dunkirk in France on the 11th November 1969 we loaded one metre diameter steel gas pipes including piling them up on the hatch covers possibly five tiers high for the Standard-Esso refinery via the primitive port of Mersa-el-Brega in Libya which we did twice. To reach the Foc’sle a route up and down ladders and walkways of five hatch stacks or a scamper through the pipes just short of hands and knees. While we were at sea, I was told to remove the hold bilge valves for overhaul from the Fwd. Pump Room so I took some tools and went on my way. I tried a couple of spanners one too small and the other too big so I returned to pick up an adjustable to which the 2nd told me to “use a proper spanner” so I returned with a chisel. The original Whitworth nuts were very meaty so manufacturers economised with the result that the dimensions had shrunk and spanners did not fit. After a few days of this I found scrambling through the pipes to be preferable. Near the berth at Mersa-el-Brega was a beach where we built a raft out of flotsam, played football and appreciated the warmer clime than in Europe. Even without the political unrest in the country we were a bit remote. On one day we were summoned back by the ship’s hooter as some bad weather was approaching and we had to leave the vulnerable berth. Having to “pull a unit” in the Bay of Biscay was not just dangerous but the delay caused us to celebrate Christmas at anchor off Calais.

From there we went to dry-dock at Swan Hunter’s yard on the Tyne. Arriving at the Swan Hunter Yard on the Tyne we passed the _Esso Northumbria_ 253,000 tonnes tied up alongside being fitted out and the _Esso Hibernia_ on the stocks. I was on the bridge deck and even in ballast the deck of the bigger ship still was above giving the impression that we were its lifeboat. We were there a few days before close of articles to explore the local pubs. We all met up in Newcastle at a bar opposite the Central Station until our various trains took us homeward for a few days leave.

On the way down the English Channel some racing pigeons stopped for a break but two decided to stay until we reached the grain silo at Destrehan, New Orleans 24th April 1970. One Frank Yerby novel about the South referred to one plantation as “the old Destrehan place” built in 1787. I was not aware that it still existed and was only a mile upriver and 100 yards from the road. In 1970 it was abandoned and vandalised, but two years later a historical society bought the house and associated slave quarter buildings from AMOCO who used to have a refinery on the plantation and began refurbishing them and it is now a site for historical education. Nearby was a bar which served extremely cold beer which caused a headache so we amused the owner by requesting warm beer which was still cold due to the air conditioning. As long as we were drinking, he stayed open and some beer was on the house so a couple of cases from the _Wandby_ came across for him and his regulars to sample. On the Saturday I set off to hitch a lift to New Orleans twenty miles downriver. When I got to the main road a police car stopped and showed me where I could catch a bus. Reaching New Orleans, I was thirsty and ordered a pint of milk at a café but thought it was a small pint and so it was as a US pint is smaller than ours. I explored the French Quarter and admired the architecture and the girl on the swing whose legs appeared through a window. I ate a burger, sipped a mint julep and absorbed the atmosphere especially in the next block when I discovered Preservation Hall. This was like a small church hall with odd chairs and they raised money by selling records of the performers work as they seemed to play for love of jazz. Considering their age, they would have been contemporaries of Louis Armstrong and Ella Fitzgerald and although not a fan of jazz I appreciated I was listening to the founders. I caught a bus in the upriver direction which dropped me off with a few miles left to walk.

We made our way back across the Atlantic to Gdynia in Poland taking the short cut through the fields of Germany in the form of the Kiel Canal. Although I was not impressed with six beers a week when we stopped at the half -way point a dry Norwegian ship had some sailors hurry to the café for a wet. Clearing the Canal, we soon encountered pack ice in the Baltic which we had to push our way through. The Chief Engineer decided that a boiler survey was required so with the snow and ice outside the accommodation temperature dropped and we resorted to piling every item of clothing on our bunks just to stop shivering. In Poland we were told that the official rate of exchange was 57 Zlotys to the pound and we had to declare all currency and between the guard on the gangway could be searched on the way to the dock gates. How-ever we were advised that the unofficial rate was 250 as this was still behind the Iron Curtain. There was so little in the shops that those awful bri-nylon shirts which replaced cotton in the late sixties attracted a premium. One evening as it was cold, I dressed and then put my old suit on over the top and later when it was even colder, I came back without it. The beer was not nice but the sparkling wine was pleasant as were the shots of Vodka Wybrova a smooth contrast with Russian Vodka. The 3rd and the “lecky” were friends so they met two sisters and as it was cold, they all shared the bed and infection. Near us was berthed the laid-up 1935 built passenger liner _MS Batory_ of Polish Ocean Lines which was being used as an hotel after being a troop and hospital ship but was scrapped in 1971.

Once we escaped the cold of Poland, we made our return through the Kiel Canal next stop New Orleans. After loading a cargo of soya beans, we set off for the West coast of Mexico and travelled through the Panama Canal. I wrote an account of our passage to my father who took it to my old school where it was read out at assembly. I never had any feedback of the pupil’s opinion but I suppose it was preferred to a sermon. We were the only ship in Manzanillo moored on a jetty apart from a small naval base with several coastal craft and the small town was friendly and primitive with few paved roads. It is now the second biggest seaport with cruise ship terminal. We played the local team at football and managed quite well until the half time case of beer. A local cinema was cooled with roof fans, mixed furniture, insects and a Spanish soundtrack. A bottle of tequila was sampled and poured away. One bar was interesting as we occupied a table in the middle and I took in the sights and sounds. A staircase led up to the balcony running around three sides with small cubicles and a door curtain. Every so often a local would take a girl up the stairs. This included some uniformed naval personnel until a party of M. Ps came in and with words and sticks escorted them out. Many of us bought either a parrot or parakeet as company. My parakeet was Bonito and is buried in a shoebox beneath an apple tree. We went away for a weekend leaving it with seed and water but it was dead on our return. I felt ever so guilty but guessed it was lonely and perhaps we should have left a radio as company. I spent most of the time working with the electrician keeping the winches working changing resistance coils and brake pads in the main. There was a hill above the town which I walked up for an excellent view down instead of up.

This was followed by one day at sea before arriving at Mazatlan to the North also in Mexico to load sugar. Still assisting the electrician, I saw the cargo being hoisted aboard in bundles of sacks where they were slit open and as it poured into the hold to become a bulk cargo of sugar it was watered occasionally by the locals. In the local dock stevedore’s office, we watched the television which was showing the football world cup in Mexico during the month of June. One day the berth next to us hosted a cruise ship and while looking at the tourist-tat stalls I met an American female tourist also browsing. As we had been there a couple of weeks, we knew the usual price so I tried to advise her but her response was “I just pay them what they ask” which explains how America distorted commerce around the world. A few streets away across a spit of land was a bay with many tourist hotels, a beautiful beach with very hot sand before the cooler sea.

We returned through the Panama Canal and while passing up the coast of Florida could see the glow of a rocket launched from Cape Kennedy. The 3rd and the “lecky” who had caught something in Poland were declared cured in Manzanillo but would need medical attention again in Baltimore. This was typical of the conscription nutters we had on board. Stan the 3rd had applied to crew with another to sail around the world in a barrel. The last year of National Service was 1963 and the choice was two years in the army or down the pits or five years in the Merchant Navy. Traditionally in heavy industry like the shipyards an apprentice served his time as cheap labour and was then laid off and told to return when he had gained experience which left you liable for conscription so many went to sea. The 4th was also in this category and made a toy mouse out of burlap and cord and pulled it around the passage-way while wearing a cape with a lightning bolt and “ratman” painted on it. The assistant steward who had been with Ropners during the war and was retained for as long as he wished had poor eyesight and walked badly due to missing toes due to frostbite thought it not right that the 4th had a dead rat on his desk next to his caged parakeet.

Arriving in Baltimore on the 3rd July 1970 and being Independence-Day week-end no cargo was to be worked. Most of the crew went to sample the bars but me being more adventurous left the ship early the next day which was Sunday and walked to the bus station and caught the Greyhound Bus to Washington District of Columbia 35 miles away. It was a busy, tiring and memorable day mixing with “hippies” and others celebrating the 4th July and being surprised at how challenging were the riot police in helmets and dark glasses slapping their night-sticks into their free hands. They were expecting further anti-Vietnam war protests such as the Kent State University shooting dead of four unarmed students and wounding of nine more by the Ohio National Guard two calendar months earlier. but in the main the locals seemed happy, paddling in the Reflecting Pool, sitting on the grass or being tourists. I took the opportunity to tour the White House followed by viewing the Constitution, Bill of Rights and Declaration of Independence at the National Archives. As the Smithsonian Museums were shut, I started from the Capitol building to the column of the Washington Memorial then along the Reflecting Pool to the Lincoln Memorial. From there I walked across the Potomac River bridge to the Arlington National Cemetery stopping to pay respects at the everlasting flame where President Kennedy had been interred three years earlier after his assassination in 1963 and witnessing the changing of the guard at the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier with the impressive view back to the Capitol. After re-crossing the river, I walked to the Jefferson Memorial and then to the bus station for the Greyhound Bus back to Baltimore.
By this time our bulk cargo of sugar had solidified and made discharge very difficult. I am sure the boiling process would have dealt with the Mexican urine but I do not think the American consumer would have been impressed.

Back to New Orleans we loaded again this time for Copenhagen passing North about Scotland. We moored alongside the main canal in the centre close to a bar and bridges leading to the shops and sights. In this fashion I saw their guardsmen at the Amalienborg Palace, the castle which had failed to stop Nelson, the Little Mermaid close by and she is little. The Tivoli Gardens were not far and had many sights to see as it was not just a funfair but had a pagoda in a lake and various restaurants. One typical event was to hit a button with a big wooden mallet and see how far you could send the measure up the vertical guide with a bell at the top. As the _Wandby_ required regular sledge hammer work I paid for my turn, took up a position and just failed so adjusting my hands I rang the bell the next three times. This impressed the local youths who thought it was easy but while I stood there, they all failed. About an hour after the posted sailing time and waiting for the pilot one of the juniors returned with a girl, boarded under the watchful and disbelieving eyes of the Chief, Captain and myself and they went to his cabin. The 2nd was sent to deal with the situation in case it turned violent.

Crossing the North Atlantic to Quebec to load grain gave me chance to explore this historical gem from the grain silo of the lower town to the upper town with the Chateau Frontenac with its internal courtyard. The plateau, Plains of Abraham, close by, where the British General James Wolfe defeating the French commanded by Marquis de Montcalm, both dying from wounds received. From the fortifications on the plateau overlooking the St. Lawrence River it is possible to imagine the British forces rowing across the river and up the tracks to fight the French. This was the turning point with the whole of Canada becoming British not long after. Earlier in the trip when we loaded in Dunkirk the local French tolerated my attempts at schoolboy French however the French Canadians in Quebec several times turned their backs on my attempts so I concluded nice scenery but nasty people. This time the cargo was for Rotterdam where articles closed and we all flew home to five weeks leave.

At that time our Discharge Books carried two columns for the captain to report on conduct and ability. The codes for this was VG very good, G good, DD discharged dead, DBS distressed British seaman returning home ill, injured or ship sunk, VNC voyage not completed which was usually jumped ship and DR decline to report. Invariably you received VG in both columns as even G was bad. Earlier in the trip while approaching Canada the fog closed in so the telegraph was rung to half ahead. As there was no response due to both engineers being out of hearing it was moved to stop with the same result until the late arriving junior returned from the rear of the engine to the area of the controls. Being by himself he panicked and pulled the throttle control lever back with the fuel still on causing a fuel line leakage. So now the engine fuel system had to be fixed in the fog when all the bridge wanted was reduced speed. As it was the same junior the captain thought it appropriate to award him a double DR which was as bad as can be so a ship would have to be desperate to employ him unless the week before Christmas. The system was discontinued in 1973 as some masters abused it.


----------



## k.atkinson

*STONEPOOL - Detail* (2) 1966, IMO 6611356, West Hartlepool, 45,027dwt, 27,049grt, 18,768nrt, launched Wed. 6/4/1966 by Charles Connell & Co. Ltd., Scotstoun, Glasgow, yard 508, 6 hold gearless bulk carrier. Barclay Curle-Sulzer 6RD, 13000bhp @ 16knots
1966 Pool Shipping Co. Ltd., (Ropners) GB, 1969 transferred to Ropner Shipping Co. Ltd., GB, April 1982 sold to Peace Bay Shipping Co. Ltd., Hong Kong, not renamed, 1984 Chart Deck Shipping Co. Ltd., Hong Kong, 4/9/1986 arrived for scrapping at Kaohsung, Taiwan.

*STONEPOOL – Voyage* Eng. Cadet Joined/flew Rotterdam 6/10/70 for iron ore to Seven Islands, Quebec Province, Canada 30/11/70 for Amsterdam then Norfolk Va. For coal to Oxelosund, near Stockholm in Sweden leaving Antwerp 27/12/70 for leave.

_Stonepool_ was the first ship I had seen without bulkheads of split elm or other wood as fire regulations now required them to be fire retardant looking like Formica. After joining in Rotterdam, we started crossing the Atlantic in ballast and with heavy weather it made progress so slow that for a couple of days we could have walked further. We passed North of Anticosti Island where during the darkness the Northern Lights appeared a beautiful sight but it was so cold, we did not stay outside long. Eventually we reached Seven Islands or Sept Isles in Quebec, Canada where they loaded at 5,000 tons/hour, a slower rate than the maximum of 7,000 tonnes of iron ore each hour. As the ship was moved along the quay beneath the loading chute the challenge was to empty the ballast tanks before the ship broke it’s back or sank. Any problems and the tugs pulled your ship off the quay and replaced it with another. A few hundred yards along the street was a small “Hudson Bay Company” store where you could buy appropriate cold weather clothing. We took this cargo to Amsterdam and then returned across the Atlantic.

This time we loaded coal at Norfolk in Virginia which we took to Oxelosund near Stockholm in Sweden which was so pleasant I can remember little about it. On reaching Antwerp I left for leave 27/12/70. When a taxi arrived for me early one morning, I found I had a travelling companion in the guise of an assistant steward jumping ship. The office seemed to think I was responsible but as a cadet I had little influence over someone in their twenties who had decided to make the same journey.
Back in May I had received a card and letter from my first love who thought I was now twenty-one but a year early. We were married on New Year’s Day at the Guildhall in the City of London and then on the 6th I re-joined for my second voyage on the _Wandby_ being promised a month to six weeks across the Atlantic and back then joining the “new one”.
Another time we went further up the St Lawrence and up the Saguenay River to load Bauxite or aluminium ore. Two of the lads who went up the road into town came back with a curious tale. They met two siblings and on further acquaintance found that one had a bosom and a willy and the other also had a fanny. Both hermaphrodites to varying degrees.


----------



## k.atkinson

*Wandby - Voyage two* 6/1/71 Antwerp, 30/1/71 Charleston S.C., to 18/3/71 completed indentures as cadet. Actually 5th March.
J/E 19/3/71 Vancouver – Chittagong – Geelong - Basra 30/08/71 Tyne & Wear, Capt. M.B. Bradley C/E J. Freddie Barron

*Wandby - Voyage two* After joining _Wandby_ at Antwerp 6th January 1971after loading we left for a journey of Winter North Atlantic rough weather where we struggled to make headway taking twice the passage time and suffering No.1 hatch-cover stove in through heavy seas. With coils of steel and wire there was plenty of room left for sea water. Being late into Charleston, South Carolina on the 30th January we missed our return cargo so we sent our distorted hatch cover ashore for repair. On the way into town, I passed a Piggly Wiggly which although carrying a funny name was one of the original concept for supermarkets.
Being tasked with a run through the Panama Canal to Vancouver two of the crew jumped ship and the 4th Eng’s wife became ill so he had to be repatriated from Vancouver which left little sympathy for my marriage of less than a week and company promises.
On the way we stopped at the small San Marcos Island halfway up on the left in the Gulf of California. Here we tied up at a jetty where a conveyor belt noisily loaded us with gypsum rock looking little different to the rest of this barren island with little scrub vegetation except for a ten foot-tall, cactus on the hill towering over the berth which I climbed up for a closer look. Fifty years later I looked up on the internet photos of the island which revealed it as more desolate than I remembered. Gypsum rock when ground can be made into plaster-board or finer as tal*** powder or even with a few holes drilled in can become a pen-stand. When we reached Canada, we discharged in North Vancouver before being tied up at Burrard’s Repair Yard nearby for a more permanent No.1 hatch cover repair.
On the weekend I climbed up Grouse Mountain or I should say up the road to the cable car and then to the 4,100-foot top looking a bit out of place as most people were equipped with skis. The view was superb looking down to the _Wandby_ and across Burrard Inlet to Vancouver. On the way back I looked over the side of Cleveland Dam holding back Capilano Lake and feeding into Capilano Canyon. Lower down I walked across the suspension bridge and back with it swaying from side to side and nobody observing my bravery. I see from pictures it has been safer for the tourists and probably wheelchair accessible and all these sights have starred in films. Another day I rode the bus across the Lion’s Gate Bridge to the City of Vancouver where I looked at some shops in the old/tourist quarter. On the way back I walked around Stanley Park with its lakes, paths, views, totem poles and black squirrels. Eventually we shifted further out of town to a loading berth for Chittagong with bagged grain stencilled “Gift of Canada”.
When we reached Chittagong in Bangladesh, we discharged bagged grain stencilled “Gift of Canada” into railway carriages which were shunted to the Russian ship behind us. The details and destination and if the kind Canadians ever found out what happened to their generosity we could only speculate. One night we exchanged films we provided “Paint your Wagon” with Lee Marvin and Clint Eastwood and they a black and white comedy with the only memorable scene being a man at the front of a bus queue being tapped on the shoulder and as he turns the rest get on the bus. One day the agent took us in a mini bus to a recently completed dam for hydro-electricity generation that they were proud of. A soldier was guarding part of the dam and when one of our juniors asked to look at his rifle, he handed it over. He looked down the rusty barrel, noted that there was no ammunition and proceeded to dismantle the 1898 Mauser rifle. This particular junior had served a spell in the Military Police but as the local soldier was looking distressed so we pleaded for the rifle to be re-assembled before his sergeant arrived. Within the dock area were about twenty white painted lorries carrying the United Nations UNICEF motif. They were also free gifts but had been parked in the docks a while as nobody would pay the bribes to get them out of the docks to help the children the agency was set up for. They were still there when I returned 12 years later.
I think after that we dropped down to Australia to load grain at Geelong near Melbourne for Basra in Iraq. Geelong was busy as we walked beside several holding pens for sheep to be butchered for export and there was a shop from which the prepared sheepskins were sold as slippers and rugs. As the prices were reasonable, I asked the female assistant for a four-skin but she was not embarrassed, no doubt heard it all before.
It was said that from the Persian Gulf the “Shatt-al Arab waterway is the ****hole of the world and that Basra is one hundred miles up it”. Fifty miles further up is the confluence of the Tigris and Euphrates rivers reputed to be the location of the “Garden of Eden”. With a lack of air-conditioning or breeze from the ship’s progress we had a choice between sleeping on deck and being bitten by bugs or resting in your cabin with a towel on the pillow to soak up the sweat. The grain cargo had been covered with planks to restrict it from shifting and as we removed them, they were piled on the deck. The local marsh Arabs approached in their boats to ask for some of the dunnage which we dropped in the river so they could build their huts. I went into town once but there were few cars and little to interest as it was still quite primitive.
On completion of discharge, we moved downriver the Iraqi pilot descending the starboard side while the Iranian ascended the port. We then moored alongside the bunkering berth at Abadan on the Iranian side of the Shatt-al-Arab. From here we could see the traffic of a vibrant city embracing the West compared to Basra. Here I saw the bloated body of a child floating past and while reporting the sight the local authorities thought it of little interest as life was cheap. Near the mouth of the waterway was a ramp with several hovercraft. On each side for about one hundred yards were crops, trees and houses and beyond that desert.
Once again, we dropped down to Australia celebrating my twenty first with soft drinks as we had emptied the bond by this time. Australia to load grain for Alexandria in Egypt taking the long way round as the Suez Canal was closed. We anchored in the harbour at Alexandria and near us alongside a berth was a Russian ship which using lighting at night loaded a submarine alongside with torpedoes at night. As they were still nervous about Israel a boom was placed across the harbour mouth at night and by day a small boat propelled by a couple of soldiers roamed the harbour while the sergeant tied a couple of sticks of dynamite together. After lighting the fuse, he tossed it into the water where it gave the plates in the engine room a good wallop which did not please our Captain who was worried we might spring a leak. At the end of the jetty opposite was a naval base with royal yacht then over a hundred years old. As if the Israelis would be daft enough to threaten international shipping with divers and limpet mines from chariots as carried out in WW2. We had wished to visit the pyramids but were not allowed beyond the city limits. As the 2nds birthday was approaching, he sent me into Alexandria to obtain some bottles of spirits which I did although I suspected it was the same distillation only coloured, flavoured and labelled differently.
After nearly eight months of Westward World Cir***navigation, we signed off on the 30th August 1971 in the Tyne and Wear.


----------



## k.atkinson

Thread *Thirlby: *
Thirlby (4) Built 1958 James Laing of Sunderland Yard No.815, Official No. 180104, IMO 5358957, 13,105grt, 7,600nrt, 20,997dwt, L559’3”/171m, B72’6”/22m, Dr.32’1”, Shell Charter 1958 to 1981, 2 pumphouses each with 2 Halls compound duplex steam pumps.
Engine: Doxford Oil 2SA 6 cylinder 650 x 2320mm with 2 Brown Boveri VTR T/C , 8000bhp, 2 x 3 furnace 16’6” dia. x 11’6” long Scotch & 1 Spanner boilers. 2 x Allen 5 cyl. 410 rpm diesel generators 250kw 110v and 1 Belliss & Morcom compound steam generator 75kw 110v. 20 year Time Charter to Shell as a refined products tanker.
1981 _Diamando_ of Dioskouri Shipping Co., Piraeus. Aliaga 20Dec1984 broken.
J/E 16Dec1971 Sunderland, 28Feb1972 Seattle, April Iceland, 23April1972 Stanlow Refinery, Liverpool. J/E 20April1972 Liverpool to 30April1972 Redcar. Captain Colin B. Tingle, C/E J.F. Barron
Having joined the _Thirlby_ on the 16th December 1971 as one of the Junior Engineers at T&G Greenwell’s dry-dock just inside the piers on the South side of the River Wear, we went on a rota for spending the night aboard even though it was a dead ship with nothing running and a toilet block on the dock side. My wife kept me warm one cold night in a cabin next to the door on deck but were glad that other days we could catch the Newcastle bus and get off at Felling where we lived. After the crew were signed on many of us went to the nearest pub where the ship’s Master, Captain Colin Tingle was holding court. He obviously was well known as the local girls were all known by first name. The captain had “come up through the hawse pipe” as the saying describes someone who had started as crew. His policy was two beers a day for everyone except the Chief Engineer and himself which led to heavier drinking ashore. Greenwell’s mainly employed casual labour who had little incentive to do their job well. One example was to replace the insertion rubber joints on the non-return ship side discharge valves. After we sailed many were found not to be working so the job had to be re-done with ship’s staff who replaced the joint with thicker material and cut out the inside on some to allow water flow. While moving a tea-chest I lifted it up and gashed my chin on the metal edge requiring my attendance at Monkwearmouth Hospital near Fulwell to have the wound stitched. After leaving dry-dock we tied up alongside for other work to be completed with three of the five donkeymen on watches as one of the Scotch boilers was fired to raise steam. For various indiscretions, the Chief Engineer removed each of them from watches until all had a black mark against their name. I arrived in the boiler room one evening to find no-one present, fires in the three furnaces, no water in the gauge glass and little pressure to operate the feed pump. Being experienced in motor ships with a donkey boiler I applied my little knowledge to the problem as I was alone. First, I closed the fuel valves to the burners hoping I was not to be blown up with the boiler. After checking both gauge glasses and not finding any water I started the reciprocating feed pump hoping there was enough steam pressure to push water into the boiler which it eventually did. The cold feed water was causing the pressure to fall and the pump to almost stop but at last I had a visible water level so I could stop the pump and light the fires again. With the furnaces lit water expansion would bring the level of water up and the steam pressure would rise. While I was awaiting events the Chief arrived on board and looked in, asking why the pressure was low as though it was my fault. He then realised there was no donkeyman so I had to explain my recent actions. He found him inebriated in his cabin but after all had a black mark, he had little choice but to start again and while I gained experience, I did not wish to repeat the evening’s events.
We were expected to head for the Persian Gulf but about two days into the Mediterranean when our orders were changed to the Caribbean. Turning about we headed back stopping at Gibraltar for bunkers, water and stores early in the morning. While off-watch I went up the road into Gib. To send postcards home and although seeing police and phone boxes similar to home I naively asked if I could change some money and after being assured that my money was valid currency, I purchased postcards and beer to lubricate my calligraphy. Later that evening we sailed, passing through the Straits again but this time turning left to go downhill towards Willemstad in Curacao, one of the Netherland Antilles. In the warmer climate getting steam on deck for the two pump-rooms and winches was challenging. Standing on top of the boilers reduced breathing to gasps but we still had to open the valves slowly to avoid water hammer causing failure of the deck line.
Curacao was to be our base and main loading port for us as a “parcel” tanker for refined products taking diesel, petrol, “Avtur” or aviation turbine fuel to many places in the Caribbean and sometimes further away. In no particular order we visited Aruba, Bonaire, Paramaribo the capital of Suriname, Maracaibo in Venezuela, Trinidad and The Dominican Republic. There was a club with open sides near the dock gates where we used to berth where we could get a lunchtime drink which I thought very civilised. Further away was “Happy Valley” where a different type of recreation was on offer or so I was told. Depending on which parcel dictated how many hours but seldom more than a day. Saint Nicholas in Aruba was not much more than a village with unpaved streets but I managed to buy a pair of orange check trousers suitable for a golf course only I don’t play and a small camphor wood chest. Santo Domingo in the Dominican Republic was particularly memorable as we tied up to a spit of land forming the Southern entrance to the Rio Ozama on the Eastern side of the city. We took two days to discharge fifty tons of aviation spirit to the nearby Naval base as even with one cargo pump going as slow as possible, we kept bursting their four-inch pipe-line. This berth had its attractions as once on the land we met an array of coconut palms about three deep followed by a beautiful sandy beach and the warm blue sea. As none of us had experience of climbing palms two small local boys scrambled up and knocked down a few coconuts. This was to be the most attractive berth I was ever to visit. La Romana, our next port was just 50 miles to the East and was also memorable for its access. We entered the Rio Dulce bow first and tied up at a tank farm about two ship’s lengths in on the Port side and had to reverse out to leave. I went for a walk but all I saw were houses but I note that across the narrow river they have built a cruise ship berth.
One cargo we took further afield, having to pass through the Panama Canal to Martinez in the North-East area of San Francisco Bay where there is a Shell Refinery. Apparently, an aircraft had spotted an oil-slick and we were a suspect for the oil pollution so officials came on board and took samples from the bilges, port and starboard cross-bunkers without incrimination. We may have been innocent but I did notice no sample was taken from the centre cross-bunker. Perhaps finding us innocent of oil pollution we did get fined for burning soot and black smoke emanating from the funnel. As the ship was now fourteen years old the boilers with some tubes blanked or scaled, tired forced draught fans the boilers could only keep up with three of the four cargo-pumps with the resultant poor combustion. From San Francisco we continued heading North to Seattle. While a limited comparison with Vancouver just across the border in Canada it was noticeable that the houses and “yards” were well maintained in Vancouver and not in Seattle as I travelled in a taxi to the doctors for a jab. Returning to our base in Curacao through the Panama Canal we filled up with water in the Gatun Lake as the water supply in Curacao was limited.
Eventually it was decided that we needed a change of climate so headed to Iceland where we discharged for the first time using the stern manifold. I noticed a stalactite that almost joined the deck above to the rail.
We returned to Britain, up the Mersey, past Liverpool and into the Manchester Ship Canal as far as Ellesmere Port where we tied up at the Stanlow Refinery. Safety Notices were posted to the effect that smoking was only permissible in the Smoke Room and Crew Recreation Room with a Dock Policeman to enforce and keep strangers away. I asked if I could smoke my pipe to which he said no so I explained how we lit the boilers. First make a small pile of sand on the floorplates and add a little diesel and set it alight. Then take a four-foot rod and wrap some rags around one end dip it into a tube containing diesel oil and ignite from the flaming sand pile. Push it into the furnace while opening the burner fuel valve until there is a ten-foot swirling flame. Repeat for all six furnaces. The Dock Policeman then commented “yes, I see, I suppose your pipe is insignificant in the Boiler Room. Some months earlier there had been a leak into the canal and while the ferry-boat and passenger were crossing the canal a match was lit and the canal burst into flames. As this was the first port in the U.K. the articles were changed and many paid off on the 20th April 1972. As I was Company Contract, I remained and we set off for Bowling Refinery on the Clyde followed by Hull, Isle of Grain Refinery on the Thames and Redcar on the Tees. At Redcar near Middlesbrough the Articles were changed again before the ship left for foreign parts. The Shipping Master asked me if I wanted to go on leave so I answered in the affirmative. Ropners asked me why I wanted to leave so I pointed out four and a half months on a busy tanker and leaving in my home county. I wondered if Company Contract personnel were treated in this fashion should I not think of another employer. Early morning on the 30th April 1972 the ship was to sail so I made my way to the dock office with my bags to wait for my father to collect me. Talking of bags, several loose women were also there waiting for taxis.
While studying for my chief engineer’s certificate the ship was in the dry-dock at Middle Docks in South Shields. While stood at the door talking to the mate in his cabin my hair was pulled upwards which surprised me until I saw the small monkey above me in the pipework. Apparently, his antics continued and led to it going for a swim. While sailing on her we always made sure we took our salt tablets as the mixture of a five-cylinder Doxford, two Scotch boilers and steam auxiliaries and the Caribbean made for a sweaty time. In May 1973 the _Thirlby_ a day out from Abadan where the Fourth Engineer had died of heat exhaustion during repairs and was buried at sea the same day. While talking to the mate I heard of another death. In 1980 while up the gulf, one of the tubes in the Scotch boiler was leaking but instead of sealing it with rod and plugs tightened the Chief decided to hammer in a solid plug. The tube moved and the boiling water covered him and killing him. Safety culture was lacking on the _Thirlby_. Most desks had a glass bottle of aviation spirit for filling lighters. Down the pump rooms while standing in aviation spirit you were supposed to use a copper mallet and bronze chisel but were often substituted for steel but then the atmosphere was probably too rich for ignition. Back on the flying bridge we made our way in a drunken fashion as our coordination was affected. A tot of rum was supposed to settle the effect.


----------



## k.atkinson

*MV NORSE VIKING*
Start Thread _Norse Viking_ 

Cardigan Shipping Co. Ltd. *had* no ships registered during the 1960’s until it was purchased in late 1969 by Rederi A/S _Norse King_ (Odd Godager & Co.) an Anglo-Norsk consortium of Harrisons (Clyde) Ltd., Ropner Management Ltd. and Fred. Olsen’s Blandford Shipping Co. Ltd. Managed by Harrisons (Clyde): Cardiff/RSL 840, 31 of class bulkers _Norse Pilot_ 17187 delivered 17/9/71 & _Norse Marshal_ 17187 delivered 19/11/71 Upper Clyde Shipbuilders, Govan. _Norse Trader_ delivered 14/3/74 & _Norse Herald_ 16682 delivered 12/9/74 Scotstoun. _Norse Lion_ 118,000dwt bulker of 1972 & _Norse Falcon_ 71,700dwt bulker Jan1975. Odd Godager & Co. Ltd., Oslo, Norway and Harrisons (Clyde) Ltd. became joint managers in the mid-1970’s. _Norse River_ (_Norse Mountain_) sister to _Norse Viking_.
*NORSE VIKING* 1970, O.N. 338390, 22394dwt, 14878.18 gross, 8641.87 net, UMS cert, B&W 6K74EF 1600 stroke, i.h.p 11,600, 10,600 b.h.p., Aalborg composite boiler, 3 x B&W generators, C.P. propeller, elect-hyd. Cranes. Dry bulk/1800 car carrier with car decks hoisted under the deck & pontoons on deck. Launched 9/12/69 at Uddevallavarvet yard 229, Uddevalla, Sweden for Odd Godager & Co. Ltd., Oslo, Norway, subsidiary Cardigan Shipping Co. Ltd., management Ropner. 1981 sold to Greymouth Shipping Co, Bahamas renamed *NORSE CAPTAIN* (2). 1985 sold to Greece renamed *LYDI*. 1997 scrapped at Alang.
*NORSE VIKING* 31/5/72 Hartlepool to 17/6/72 Norfolk, 29/9/72 Baltimore, 3/11/72 Norfolk, 24/2/73 New Orleans to 19/3/73 Rotterdam J/E. C/E John S. Smeatham & William W. Keith

At the end of May on Wednesday 31st 1972 a leisurely train journey took me from Tyneside to Hartlepool where the _Norse Viking_ was discharging on the North side near the Headland. I went home on Saturday for the night returning on the Sunday for sailing to find a naked girl in my bunk. An Assistant Steward had found her in a pub the previous night and instead of his shared cabin he made use of mine. As she was underage her father came looking but nobody checked my cabin and she was removed later to provide her alibi.
From there we went to Emden or Bremerhaven in Germany, lowered our car decks into place and loaded seventeen hundred Volkswagens and a sprinkling of Audis. They came quickly in the rain to the berth from the car park and drove onto a double platform for hoisting into the hold where they were parked and secured. In America we discharged the cars except when it was raining even though they were parked outside. After removing the pontoons to the upper deck storage and hoisting the decks up to the top of the hold we loaded coal or grain for Europe like any other bulk carrier. 
On one occasion we passed through the Panama Canal into the Pacific and across to Hiroshima in Japan to load Mazda cars. On looking about from the Bridge Deck, Hiroshima was fed by several valleys which would seem to dissipate the force of the nuclear explosion but little do I know as it was effective. This cargo we took to New Orleans as the first Mazda cars to the East coast of America.

Being a new ship, classed as UMS with its automation although we were operating traditionally was beyond the experience of our near retirement senior chief John Smeatham. I had sailed with him on the _Wandby_ where he rarely entered the engine room. During one breakdown he came down in uniform for a short while standing by the switchboard observing events. I used to take up the log book to him at noon after which he re-wrote the contents in beautiful copperplate which I found out while studying for my certificates was pointless effort as a Court of Enquiry would only be interested in the original. On one occasion he came into the Control Room after breakfast where we were gathered when we had a black out. He looked at us all not moving and not comprehending while with the remote noises another generator started and stand-by pumps came on line. When this sequence had completed, we went round changing the auto-switches. While I respected him, I thought it was unintentionally cruel of the company to send him to this ship beyond his experience.

After nine and a half months we tied up to dolphins in Rotterdam from where I was to go on leave and my wife had been there for eight and a half months. After F.W.E. I was having a beer facing inboard with two others in the bar facing outboard. One commented that Peter the steward had just gone past. We thought no more of this comment until we heard that his body had been fished out of the dock and realised that when he was seen must have been when he died and he could not have walked outside the bar windows as there was no deck at that level. We were never told but I presume he had received disturbing news in the post.


----------



## lakercapt

Well, written articles about Sir R. Ropners of Darlington. I too met with Mr. Whitehead.
I served my time as an apprentice on deck from 1952 till 1956.
Then as a third mate, I joined the "Romanby at the builders' yard and spent nine months on this poorly designed ship. Most of the time running from Rotterdam to the east coast USA with coal. I said poorly designed and this was an understatement. The ship had the midship house which had the deck crew and aft the engine and catering staff. Going along the deck in the North Atlantic in bad weather for meals etc was dangerous. It also had tween decks with beams and hatch board which were metal.. When loading coal we had to remove the beams and hatches. Eventually, the hatch boards were stowed away but the beams had to be in for structural strength. The main deck had single-leaf McGregor hatches. This ship had radar and as I had just obtained my second mate certificate had radar observers one too. I was the only person with this. Did not make any difference as the captain locked the radar up and were could not use it. His idea was to switch it on for a quick sweep and then off. The worst thing to do and consequently it was forever breaking down. The captain was on my case all the time and treated me if I were still an apprentice. I lost my cool one time and onlt=y the intervention of the sparkie saved me clocking him. It was good thing as that would have been the end of my seagoing career.
Mainly Norfolk and Newport News across the Atlantic in ballast a nightmare as the ship had insufficient ballast capacity. I believe they fitted an extra deep tank after I left. Never to return to this company..


----------



## jmcg

Some heavy stuff above K. took some reading but most enjoyable. Keep them coming.

BW
J


----------



## Cranky

That brought back many memories of the ships and people I sailed with on Rudby, Norse Viking and Stonepool, 1972 to 1977 as third mate.


----------



## John Gowers

Great stories also brought back memories of my own trips.


----------



## R651400

Do tell us more about the 1929 eloping stowaways !


----------



## trotterdotpom

Two ships, Star Kerry and Star Kestrel, belonging to Kulikundis (London Greeks) were chartered by Australian company BHP in the mid-eighties and re-named Iron Kerry and Iron Kestrel. Iron Kerry was subsequently bought by Ropners and re-named Iron Kirby. The rumour round the traps was that someone in Ropners didn't like the Irish connotations of "Kerry" but I'm inclined to think they just wanted to keep the "-by" suffix going. Not sure if the ship ever returned to Ropners or if she was sold again.


----------



## trotterdotpom

trotterdotpom said:


> Two ships, Star Kerry and Star Kestrel, belonging to Kulikundis (London Greeks) were chartered by Australian company BHP in the mid-eighties and re-named Iron Kerry and Iron Kestrel. Iron Kerry was subsequently bought by Ropners and re-named Iron Kirby. The rumour round the traps was that someone in Ropners didn't like the Irish connotations of "Kerry" but I'm inclined to think they just wanted to keep the "-by" suffix going. Not sure if the ship ever returned to Ropners or if she was sold again.


Duh! It just dawned on me the "-by" ships were named after North Yorkshire villages, e.g. Rudby, Romanby, Moorby, etc.

John T


----------



## Derek Garland

k.atkinson said:


> Thread *Thirlby: *
> Thirlby (4) Built 1958 James Laing of Sunderland Yard No.815, Official No. 180104, IMO 5358957, 13,105grt, 7,600nrt, 20,997dwt, L559’3”/171m, B72’6”/22m, Dr.32’1”, Shell Charter 1958 to 1981, 2 pumphouses each with 2 Halls compound duplex steam pumps.
> Engine: Doxford Oil 2SA 6 cylinder 650 x 2320mm with 2 Brown Boveri VTR T/C , 8000bhp, 2 x 3 furnace 16’6” dia. x 11’6” long Scotch & 1 Spanner boilers. 2 x Allen 5 cyl. 410 rpm diesel generators 250kw 110v and 1 Belliss & Morcom compound steam generator 75kw 110v. 20 year Time Charter to Shell as a refined products tanker.
> 1981 _Diamando_ of Dioskouri Shipping Co., Piraeus. Aliaga 20Dec1984 broken.
> J/E 16Dec1971 Sunderland, 28Feb1972 Seattle, April Iceland, 23April1972 Stanlow Refinery, Liverpool. J/E 20April1972 Liverpool to 30April1972 Redcar. Captain Colin B. Tingle, C/E J.F. Barron
> Having joined the _Thirlby_ on the 16th December 1971 as one of the Junior Engineers at T&G Greenwell’s dry-dock just inside the piers on the South side of the River Wear, we went on a rota for spending the night aboard even though it was a dead ship with nothing running and a toilet block on the dock side. My wife kept me warm one cold night in a cabin next to the door on deck but were glad that other days we could catch the Newcastle bus and get off at Felling where we lived. After the crew were signed on many of us went to the nearest pub where the ship’s Master, Captain Colin Tingle was holding court. He obviously was well known as the local girls were all known by first name. The captain had “come up through the hawse pipe” as the saying describes someone who had started as crew. His policy was two beers a day for everyone except the Chief Engineer and himself which led to heavier drinking ashore. Greenwell’s mainly employed casual labour who had little incentive to do their job well. One example was to replace the insertion rubber joints on the non-return ship side discharge valves. After we sailed many were found not to be working so the job had to be re-done with ship’s staff who replaced the joint with thicker material and cut out the inside on some to allow water flow. While moving a tea-chest I lifted it up and gashed my chin on the metal edge requiring my attendance at Monkwearmouth Hospital near Fulwell to have the wound stitched. After leaving dry-dock we tied up alongside for other work to be completed with three of the five donkeymen on watches as one of the Scotch boilers was fired to raise steam. For various indiscretions, the Chief Engineer removed each of them from watches until all had a black mark against their name. I arrived in the boiler room one evening to find no-one present, fires in the three furnaces, no water in the gauge glass and little pressure to operate the feed pump. Being experienced in motor ships with a donkey boiler I applied my little knowledge to the problem as I was alone. First, I closed the fuel valves to the burners hoping I was not to be blown up with the boiler. After checking both gauge glasses and not finding any water I started the reciprocating feed pump hoping there was enough steam pressure to push water into the boiler which it eventually did. The cold feed water was causing the pressure to fall and the pump to almost stop but at last I had a visible water level so I could stop the pump and light the fires again. With the furnaces lit water expansion would bring the level of water up and the steam pressure would rise. While I was awaiting events the Chief arrived on board and looked in, asking why the pressure was low as though it was my fault. He then realised there was no donkeyman so I had to explain my recent actions. He found him inebriated in his cabin but after all had a black mark, he had little choice but to start again and while I gained experience, I did not wish to repeat the evening’s events.
> We were expected to head for the Persian Gulf but about two days into the Mediterranean when our orders were changed to the Caribbean. Turning about we headed back stopping at Gibraltar for bunkers, water and stores early in the morning. While off-watch I went up the road into Gib. To send postcards home and although seeing police and phone boxes similar to home I naively asked if I could change some money and after being assured that my money was valid currency, I purchased postcards and beer to lubricate my calligraphy. Later that evening we sailed, passing through the Straits again but this time turning left to go downhill towards Willemstad in Curacao, one of the Netherland Antilles. In the warmer climate getting steam on deck for the two pump-rooms and winches was challenging. Standing on top of the boilers reduced breathing to gasps but we still had to open the valves slowly to avoid water hammer causing failure of the deck line.
> Curacao was to be our base and main loading port for us as a “parcel” tanker for refined products taking diesel, petrol, “Avtur” or aviation turbine fuel to many places in the Caribbean and sometimes further away. In no particular order we visited Aruba, Bonaire, Paramaribo the capital of Suriname, Maracaibo in Venezuela, Trinidad and The Dominican Republic. There was a club with open sides near the dock gates where we used to berth where we could get a lunchtime drink which I thought very civilised. Further away was “Happy Valley” where a different type of recreation was on offer or so I was told. Depending on which parcel dictated how many hours but seldom more than a day. Saint Nicholas in Aruba was not much more than a village with unpaved streets but I managed to buy a pair of orange check trousers suitable for a golf course only I don’t play and a small camphor wood chest. Santo Domingo in the Dominican Republic was particularly memorable as we tied up to a spit of land forming the Southern entrance to the Rio Ozama on the Eastern side of the city. We took two days to discharge fifty tons of aviation spirit to the nearby Naval base as even with one cargo pump going as slow as possible, we kept bursting their four-inch pipe-line. This berth had its attractions as once on the land we met an array of coconut palms about three deep followed by a beautiful sandy beach and the warm blue sea. As none of us had experience of climbing palms two small local boys scrambled up and knocked down a few coconuts. This was to be the most attractive berth I was ever to visit. La Romana, our next port was just 50 miles to the East and was also memorable for its access. We entered the Rio Dulce bow first and tied up at a tank farm about two ship’s lengths in on the Port side and had to reverse out to leave. I went for a walk but all I saw were houses but I note that across the narrow river they have built a cruise ship berth.
> One cargo we took further afield, having to pass through the Panama Canal to Martinez in the North-East area of San Francisco Bay where there is a Shell Refinery. Apparently, an aircraft had spotted an oil-slick and we were a suspect for the oil pollution so officials came on board and took samples from the bilges, port and starboard cross-bunkers without incrimination. We may have been innocent but I did notice no sample was taken from the centre cross-bunker. Perhaps finding us innocent of oil pollution we did get fined for burning soot and black smoke emanating from the funnel. As the ship was now fourteen years old the boilers with some tubes blanked or scaled, tired forced draught fans the boilers could only keep up with three of the four cargo-pumps with the resultant poor combustion. From San Francisco we continued heading North to Seattle. While a limited comparison with Vancouver just across the border in Canada it was noticeable that the houses and “yards” were well maintained in Vancouver and not in Seattle as I travelled in a taxi to the doctors for a jab. Returning to our base in Curacao through the Panama Canal we filled up with water in the Gatun Lake as the water supply in Curacao was limited.
> Eventually it was decided that we needed a change of climate so headed to Iceland where we discharged for the first time using the stern manifold. I noticed a stalactite that almost joined the deck above to the rail.
> We returned to Britain, up the Mersey, past Liverpool and into the Manchester Ship Canal as far as Ellesmere Port where we tied up at the Stanlow Refinery. Safety Notices were posted to the effect that smoking was only permissible in the Smoke Room and Crew Recreation Room with a Dock Policeman to enforce and keep strangers away. I asked if I could smoke my pipe to which he said no so I explained how we lit the boilers. First make a small pile of sand on the floorplates and add a little diesel and set it alight. Then take a four-foot rod and wrap some rags around one end dip it into a tube containing diesel oil and ignite from the flaming sand pile. Push it into the furnace while opening the burner fuel valve until there is a ten-foot swirling flame. Repeat for all six furnaces. The Dock Policeman then commented “yes, I see, I suppose your pipe is insignificant in the Boiler Room. Some months earlier there had been a leak into the canal and while the ferry-boat and passenger were crossing the canal a match was lit and the canal burst into flames. As this was the first port in the U.K. the articles were changed and many paid off on the 20th April 1972. As I was Company Contract, I remained and we set off for Bowling Refinery on the Clyde followed by Hull, Isle of Grain Refinery on the Thames and Redcar on the Tees. At Redcar near Middlesbrough the Articles were changed again before the ship left for foreign parts. The Shipping Master asked me if I wanted to go on leave so I answered in the affirmative. Ropners asked me why I wanted to leave so I pointed out four and a half months on a busy tanker and leaving in my home county. I wondered if Company Contract personnel were treated in this fashion should I not think of another employer. Early morning on the 30th April 1972 the ship was to sail so I made my way to the dock office with my bags to wait for my father to collect me. Talking of bags, several loose women were also there waiting for taxis.
> While studying for my chief engineer’s certificate the ship was in the dry-dock at Middle Docks in South Shields. While stood at the door talking to the mate in his cabin my hair was pulled upwards which surprised me until I saw the small monkey above me in the pipework. Apparently, his antics continued and led to it going for a swim. While sailing on her we always made sure we took our salt tablets as the mixture of a five-cylinder Doxford, two Scotch boilers and steam auxiliaries and the Caribbean made for a sweaty time. In May 1973 the _Thirlby_ a day out from Abadan where the Fourth Engineer had died of heat exhaustion during repairs and was buried at sea the same day. While talking to the mate I heard of another death. In 1980 while up the gulf, one of the tubes in the Scotch boiler was leaking but instead of sealing it with rod and plugs tightened the Chief decided to hammer in a solid plug. The tube moved and the boiling water covered him and killing him. Safety culture was lacking on the _Thirlby_. Most desks had a glass bottle of aviation spirit for filling lighters. Down the pump rooms while standing in aviation spirit you were supposed to use a copper mallet and bronze chisel but were often substituted for steel but then the atmosphere was probably too rich for ignition. Back on the flying bridge we made our way in a drunken fashion as our coordination was affected. A tot of rum was supposed to settle the effect.


 D Garland
I joined Thirlby in 1966 after having spent a year at Leith Nautical College and boarding on The Dolphin. I was a green deck cadet with visions of seeing the world and being paid for it. Certainly not much money as a cadet. One of the first things we were told by Mr Ovens at our lectures was that if we had joined the merchant navy just to see the world then we should forget it! I shared a cabin with another cadet called Basil from The Seychelles and must admit I had a great first trip. I became a dab hand at starting the steam pumps to unload our oil cargoes and taking daily ullages. Unfortunately I didn't keep my discharge book so can't remember where we went. I do remember sailing between Venezuela and Curacao quite a number of times. I also sailed on Barlby and Bridgepool. Once my apprenticeship finished I sailed as Third Mate on a coastal coal carrier called Storrington plying The Baltic then took a brand new tanker out of South Shields to Singapore where it was sold and we were flown back home. I left The Merchant Navy then to get married and emigrated to Australia. It was my biggest regret leaving the navy as my marriage didn't last long anyway.


----------



## Ternahan

k.atkinson said:


> *WANDBY - Detail* (3) 1959 West Hartlepool, GB O.N. 301537, IMO 5385883, 17,170 dwt, 11545.34grt, 5760.28 nrt, 158.1m long, completed 10/1959 Bartram & Sons, South Dock (yard 372) Sunderland, geared bulk carrier with 5 holds & 10 derricks 14 knots, 4cyl NEM-Doxford 700LBDS4 No. 3332, supercharged with 2 x lever operated scavenge pumps & 2 x exhaust gas turbochargers, 6350 b.h.p. 1 Spanner Exh. Gas & 1 Spanner oil fired boiler. 32 x diesel generators plus Peter Brotherhood steam turbine generator. 1972 sold to Ouse Shipping Co. Ltd., Piraeus, Greece renamed *SEA RANGER*, 1984 sold to Ledra Shipping Ltd., Valetta, Malta renamed *LEDRA*. 3/6/84 arrived BU Gadani Beach, Karachi (Dada Steel Mills).
> 
> *WANDBY - *The _Wandby_ of 1959 was a typical cut-price test bed with exhaust gas turbo-blowers and lever operated scavenge pumps (a belt and braces concept). The side rod top keep-nuts required a 14-pound hammer to slacken which was not a problem unless you were slightly built like my brother cadet who when moving the hammer head behind him followed it for three steps. Standing on a plank inside the crankcase to remove the piston rod nut the third and myself took it in turns to slacken the nut using a three-foot long flogging spanner and a 56lb hammer (half an anvil). Usual practice was tighten with a 14 and slacken with a 28. I have only ever seen another sledge hammer of that size and would have liked to have met the man who tightened it and asked him if he had ever heard of metallurgy. The cylinder lubrication system automatically required the junior to carry an oilcan to the pump and fill it up with the exhaust belt keeping your head warm. The steam turbine generator was a mystery for all except one 3rd who knew how to start it. The refrigeration machinery was located within the steering flat and somebody had created a small box around the expansion valves. A few tins of beer were located there at the start of a watch to become cold at the end as this was before cabin fridges became available. A junior seeking a clean sea-washed boiler suit fed a dirty one out of a porthole in this space tied to a length of line but there was little left when he hauled it back in. The more traditional and effective way was a 45-gallon oil drum with water and soap invigorated with a steam lance.
> 
> *WANDBY - Voyage one* 11/11/69 Dunkirk to Libya twice to 25/12/69 anchor off Calais to Swan Hunter dry-dock on River Tyne until (few days leave included re-join in dry-dock) 27/1/70 2m17d, change articles 28/1/70 to 4/2/70 8d, new articles 5/2/70 left Tyne to New Orleans 24/2/70 to Poland & back to New Orleans 28/4/70, Panama Canal 13th May & June (3 weeks Manzanillo and 3 weeks Mazatlan in Mexico) 3/7/70 Baltimore (4th July tourist in Washington). To New Orleans for Copenhagen in July. Quebec to Rotterdam in August & flight to London 29/8/70 6m25d & 5 weeks leave.
> 
> *WANDBY - Voyage one*
> Joining the _Wandby_ in Dunkirk in France on the 11th November 1969 we loaded one metre diameter steel gas pipes including piling them up on the hatch covers possibly five tiers high for the Standard-Esso refinery via the primitive port of Mersa-el-Brega in Libya which we did twice. To reach the Foc’sle a route up and down ladders and walkways of five hatch stacks or a scamper through the pipes just short of hands and knees. While we were at sea, I was told to remove the hold bilge valves for overhaul from the Fwd. Pump Room so I took some tools and went on my way. I tried a couple of spanners one too small and the other too big so I returned to pick up an adjustable to which the 2nd told me to “use a proper spanner” so I returned with a chisel. The original Whitworth nuts were very meaty so manufacturers economised with the result that the dimensions had shrunk and spanners did not fit. After a few days of this I found scrambling through the pipes to be preferable. Near the berth at Mersa-el-Brega was a beach where we built a raft out of flotsam, played football and appreciated the warmer clime than in Europe. Even without the political unrest in the country we were a bit remote. On one day we were summoned back by the ship’s hooter as some bad weather was approaching and we had to leave the vulnerable berth. Having to “pull a unit” in the Bay of Biscay was not just dangerous but the delay caused us to celebrate Christmas at anchor off Calais.
> 
> From there we went to dry-dock at Swan Hunter’s yard on the Tyne. Arriving at the Swan Hunter Yard on the Tyne we passed the _Esso Northumbria_ 253,000 tonnes tied up alongside being fitted out and the _Esso Hibernia_ on the stocks. I was on the bridge deck and even in ballast the deck of the bigger ship still was above giving the impression that we were its lifeboat. We were there a few days before close of articles to explore the local pubs. We all met up in Newcastle at a bar opposite the Central Station until our various trains took us homeward for a few days leave.
> 
> On the way down the English Channel some racing pigeons stopped for a break but two decided to stay until we reached the grain silo at Destrehan, New Orleans 24th April 1970. One Frank Yerby novel about the South referred to one plantation as “the old Destrehan place” built in 1787. I was not aware that it still existed and was only a mile upriver and 100 yards from the road. In 1970 it was abandoned and vandalised, but two years later a historical society bought the house and associated slave quarter buildings from AMOCO who used to have a refinery on the plantation and began refurbishing them and it is now a site for historical education. Nearby was a bar which served extremely cold beer which caused a headache so we amused the owner by requesting warm beer which was still cold due to the air conditioning. As long as we were drinking, he stayed open and some beer was on the house so a couple of cases from the _Wandby_ came across for him and his regulars to sample. On the Saturday I set off to hitch a lift to New Orleans twenty miles downriver. When I got to the main road a police car stopped and showed me where I could catch a bus. Reaching New Orleans, I was thirsty and ordered a pint of milk at a café but thought it was a small pint and so it was as a US pint is smaller than ours. I explored the French Quarter and admired the architecture and the girl on the swing whose legs appeared through a window. I ate a burger, sipped a mint julep and absorbed the atmosphere especially in the next block when I discovered Preservation Hall. This was like a small church hall with odd chairs and they raised money by selling records of the performers work as they seemed to play for love of jazz. Considering their age, they would have been contemporaries of Louis Armstrong and Ella Fitzgerald and although not a fan of jazz I appreciated I was listening to the founders. I caught a bus in the upriver direction which dropped me off with a few miles left to walk.
> 
> We made our way back across the Atlantic to Gdynia in Poland taking the short cut through the fields of Germany in the form of the Kiel Canal. Although I was not impressed with six beers a week when we stopped at the half -way point a dry Norwegian ship had some sailors hurry to the café for a wet. Clearing the Canal, we soon encountered pack ice in the Baltic which we had to push our way through. The Chief Engineer decided that a boiler survey was required so with the snow and ice outside the accommodation temperature dropped and we resorted to piling every item of clothing on our bunks just to stop shivering. In Poland we were told that the official rate of exchange was 57 Zlotys to the pound and we had to declare all currency and between the guard on the gangway could be searched on the way to the dock gates. How-ever we were advised that the unofficial rate was 250 as this was still behind the Iron Curtain. There was so little in the shops that those awful bri-nylon shirts which replaced cotton in the late sixties attracted a premium. One evening as it was cold, I dressed and then put my old suit on over the top and later when it was even colder, I came back without it. The beer was not nice but the sparkling wine was pleasant as were the shots of Vodka Wybrova a smooth contrast with Russian Vodka. The 3rd and the “lecky” were friends so they met two sisters and as it was cold, they all shared the bed and infection. Near us was berthed the laid-up 1935 built passenger liner _MS Batory_ of Polish Ocean Lines which was being used as an hotel after being a troop and hospital ship but was scrapped in 1971.
> 
> Once we escaped the cold of Poland, we made our return through the Kiel Canal next stop New Orleans. After loading a cargo of soya beans, we set off for the West coast of Mexico and travelled through the Panama Canal. I wrote an account of our passage to my father who took it to my old school where it was read out at assembly. I never had any feedback of the pupil’s opinion but I suppose it was preferred to a sermon. We were the only ship in Manzanillo moored on a jetty apart from a small naval base with several coastal craft and the small town was friendly and primitive with few paved roads. It is now the second biggest seaport with cruise ship terminal. We played the local team at football and managed quite well until the half time case of beer. A local cinema was cooled with roof fans, mixed furniture, insects and a Spanish soundtrack. A bottle of tequila was sampled and poured away. One bar was interesting as we occupied a table in the middle and I took in the sights and sounds. A staircase led up to the balcony running around three sides with small cubicles and a door curtain. Every so often a local would take a girl up the stairs. This included some uniformed naval personnel until a party of M. Ps came in and with words and sticks escorted them out. Many of us bought either a parrot or parakeet as company. My parakeet was Bonito and is buried in a shoebox beneath an apple tree. We went away for a weekend leaving it with seed and water but it was dead on our return. I felt ever so guilty but guessed it was lonely and perhaps we should have left a radio as company. I spent most of the time working with the electrician keeping the winches working changing resistance coils and brake pads in the main. There was a hill above the town which I walked up for an excellent view down instead of up.
> 
> This was followed by one day at sea before arriving at Mazatlan to the North also in Mexico to load sugar. Still assisting the electrician, I saw the cargo being hoisted aboard in bundles of sacks where they were slit open and as it poured into the hold to become a bulk cargo of sugar it was watered occasionally by the locals. In the local dock stevedore’s office, we watched the television which was showing the football world cup in Mexico during the month of June. One day the berth next to us hosted a cruise ship and while looking at the tourist-tat stalls I met an American female tourist also browsing. As we had been there a couple of weeks, we knew the usual price so I tried to advise her but her response was “I just pay them what they ask” which explains how America distorted commerce around the world. A few streets away across a spit of land was a bay with many tourist hotels, a beautiful beach with very hot sand before the cooler sea.
> 
> We returned through the Panama Canal and while passing up the coast of Florida could see the glow of a rocket launched from Cape Kennedy. The 3rd and the “lecky” who had caught something in Poland were declared cured in Manzanillo but would need medical attention again in Baltimore. This was typical of the conscription nutters we had on board. Stan the 3rd had applied to crew with another to sail around the world in a barrel. The last year of National Service was 1963 and the choice was two years in the army or down the pits or five years in the Merchant Navy. Traditionally in heavy industry like the shipyards an apprentice served his time as cheap labour and was then laid off and told to return when he had gained experience which left you liable for conscription so many went to sea. The 4th was also in this category and made a toy mouse out of burlap and cord and pulled it around the passage-way while wearing a cape with a lightning bolt and “ratman” painted on it. The assistant steward who had been with Ropners during the war and was retained for as long as he wished had poor eyesight and walked badly due to missing toes due to frostbite thought it not right that the 4th had a dead rat on his desk next to his caged parakeet.
> 
> Arriving in Baltimore on the 3rd July 1970 and being Independence-Day week-end no cargo was to be worked. Most of the crew went to sample the bars but me being more adventurous left the ship early the next day which was Sunday and walked to the bus station and caught the Greyhound Bus to Washington District of Columbia 35 miles away. It was a busy, tiring and memorable day mixing with “hippies” and others celebrating the 4th July and being surprised at how challenging were the riot police in helmets and dark glasses slapping their night-sticks into their free hands. They were expecting further anti-Vietnam war protests such as the Kent State University shooting dead of four unarmed students and wounding of nine more by the Ohio National Guard two calendar months earlier. but in the main the locals seemed happy, paddling in the Reflecting Pool, sitting on the grass or being tourists. I took the opportunity to tour the White House followed by viewing the Constitution, Bill of Rights and Declaration of Independence at the National Archives. As the Smithsonian Museums were shut, I started from the Capitol building to the column of the Washington Memorial then along the Reflecting Pool to the Lincoln Memorial. From there I walked across the Potomac River bridge to the Arlington National Cemetery stopping to pay respects at the everlasting flame where President Kennedy had been interred three years earlier after his assassination in 1963 and witnessing the changing of the guard at the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier with the impressive view back to the Capitol. After re-crossing the river, I walked to the Jefferson Memorial and then to the bus station for the Greyhound Bus back to Baltimore.
> By this time our bulk cargo of sugar had solidified and made discharge very difficult. I am sure the boiling process would have dealt with the Mexican urine but I do not think the American consumer would have been impressed.
> 
> Back to New Orleans we loaded again this time for Copenhagen passing North about Scotland. We moored alongside the main canal in the centre close to a bar and bridges leading to the shops and sights. In this fashion I saw their guardsmen at the Amalienborg Palace, the castle which had failed to stop Nelson, the Little Mermaid close by and she is little. The Tivoli Gardens were not far and had many sights to see as it was not just a funfair but had a pagoda in a lake and various restaurants. One typical event was to hit a button with a big wooden mallet and see how far you could send the measure up the vertical guide with a bell at the top. As the _Wandby_ required regular sledge hammer work I paid for my turn, took up a position and just failed so adjusting my hands I rang the bell the next three times. This impressed the local youths who thought it was easy but while I stood there, they all failed. About an hour after the posted sailing time and waiting for the pilot one of the juniors returned with a girl, boarded under the watchful and disbelieving eyes of the Chief, Captain and myself and they went to his cabin. The 2nd was sent to deal with the situation in case it turned violent.
> 
> Crossing the North Atlantic to Quebec to load grain gave me chance to explore this historical gem from the grain silo of the lower town to the upper town with the Chateau Frontenac with its internal courtyard. The plateau, Plains of Abraham, close by, where the British General James Wolfe defeating the French commanded by Marquis de Montcalm, both dying from wounds received. From the fortifications on the plateau overlooking the St. Lawrence River it is possible to imagine the British forces rowing across the river and up the tracks to fight the French. This was the turning point with the whole of Canada becoming British not long after. Earlier in the trip when we loaded in Dunkirk the local French tolerated my attempts at schoolboy French however the French Canadians in Quebec several times turned their backs on my attempts so I concluded nice scenery but nasty people. This time the cargo was for Rotterdam where articles closed and we all flew home to five weeks leave.
> 
> At that time our Discharge Books carried two columns for the captain to report on conduct and ability. The codes for this was VG very good, G good, DD discharged dead, DBS distressed British seaman returning home ill, injured or ship sunk, VNC voyage not completed which was usually jumped ship and DR decline to report. Invariably you received VG in both columns as even G was bad. Earlier in the trip while approaching Canada the fog closed in so the telegraph was rung to half ahead. As there was no response due to both engineers being out of hearing it was moved to stop with the same result until the late arriving junior returned from the rear of the engine to the area of the controls. Being by himself he panicked and pulled the throttle control lever back with the fuel still on causing a fuel line leakage. So now the engine fuel system had to be fixed in the fog when all the bridge wanted was reduced speed. As it was the same junior the captain thought it appropriate to award him a double DR which was as bad as can be so a ship would have to be desperate to employ him unless the week before Christmas. The system was discontinued in 1973 as some masters abused it.


----------



## Ternahan

I sailed on the Wandby as "sparkie” 1961 - 1963 - a two year voyage ex UK. Several times a hole was burnt in a piston head and on one occasion I helped out by getting into cylinder with an angle grinder and buffing the walls. Using derricks to unload bulk cargoes - wheat from Canada or Australia to China ( Mao had starved many people with collectivisation ) - the armatures of the winches burnt out and the engineers re wound them and bound them with bandages and araldite. This also applied to bulk rice from China to Indonesia - amazed to see Marshal Aid trucks etc rusting on the wharf where they had been landed. And the wharfies binding the bottom of their trousers and filling up the legs with rice for their families.


----------



## trotterdotpom

Interesting story K. Atkinson but as a former Middlesburger I must object ot your referring to the Redcar ladies as "bags". I presume they were from the Mission and just there looking after your welfare.

D. Garland: I sailed on Storrington too - nice ship.

John T


----------



## inandaship

3rd.Mate on Wandby 1969 'Dunkirk to Mersa-el Brega, Libya twice' Capt. Carter. Remember the football in the sand, Joe the sparks my pal from Dublin used to wear a crucifix round his neck given to him by his grandmother which he lost in the sand when playing football and later I looked down and it was between my feet. Funny how these things stick in your mind and I can't remember what I did yesterday! So long ago now.


----------



## k.atkinson

R651400 said:


> Do tell us more about the 1929 eloping stowaways !


*S.S. Ingleby & Sick-of-School-Bobbie*​On Thursday the thirty-first of January 1929 in West Hartlepool my fourteen-year-old father, Robert Atkinson ran away to sea. Having passed the eleven-plus examination, he attended the local Grammar School and was expected to enjoy his Latin and other esoteric lessons. However not being diligent enough for certain teachers and resenting the discipline expected he became “sick of school”. West Hartlepool on the Durham coast of England at this time was a busy ship-building and sea-port so his mind wandered to far off places and persuaded his body to follow. This condensed version is culled from newspaper cuttings, telegrams, letters home and “My Adventures as a Stowaway” he was encouraged to write on his return.
Not wishing to cause any worry he left a brief note: Dear Mother, I may not be home tonight, I am not sure. Please do not worry you can do no good by worrying. I am sick of school. Nobody knows where I am going or how long for. Yours always Bobbie.

After catching the bus to the docks in Old Hartlepool I found a group of men talking to the policeman at the entrance so I walked past and clambered over some palings, swung along over the water and dropped about six-feet to the dockside so far unobserved. I crept along the quay edge until I reached the _Ingleby_ and made a leap to grab the rail and then clamber on to the harbour deck, from there to the main deck and up the ladder on to the boat deck. I heard somebody up forward, probably the watchman, and when everything seemed normal, I lifted the boat cover and could crawl inside where I found a place in the stern-sheets. The weather was very cold and I could not sleep; throughout the night the ship was being loaded with coal and the noise from the conveyers, railway engines blowing whistles as the trucks bumped along the staithes. Friday brought rain and some of the crew, were shifting hatch-covers from the boat deck, and somebody was even swinging on the falls of the boat in which I was hidden and still my presence was unsuspected. As the time dragged many times, I was going to come out but thought how people would laugh and so stuck it out. Eventually at 8.15p.m. on Friday night 1st February 1929, S.S. Ingleby (built by Ropners 1907 sold 1929, 3185grt)of R. Ropner Shipping Line, West Hartlepool sailed from Hartlepool “en-route” for Genoa with a cargo of coal, a crew of thirty and me.

It being dark I had my head out of the cover; I could see people on the quayside and the town wall shouting and waving farewells to the sailors and firemen, when we got further out, I could see the lights all round the bay. Having unshipped the Pilot, we headed for the open sea and began to heave and toss. By 10.30p.m. the unused to movement and hunger decided me to leave my place and see what could be done. I descended to the main deck where a sailor took me up to the captain’s cabin. The captain was annoyed in a mild sort of manner as he took particulars then dismissed me saying he had no place to put me.

The next day all the crew told me cautionary tales about stowaways but I was more concerned with delivering un-digested biscuits to the fishes. At the Steward’s suggestion I started work in the galley (galley-slave) and slept with the apprentices. Sunday morning, I started work properly and sent a telegram message home. “Please don’t worry am being treated well aboard will write you from Genoa Bobbie”. I expected being intercepted by a motor boat at Dover but nothing happened. Monday was calm and warm and the captain seeing I had settled down to work gave me some overalls. Tuesday was glorious weather as we passed Ushant and entered the Bay of Biscay. Wednesday, I explored the Engine-room, Stokehold, Boiler-tops and the Tunnel and had a bath behind the condenser. Thursday, we sighted Cape Finisterre and watched a school of porpoises rubbing their backs on the hull. Friday, we sighted the Cape St. Vincent light and monastery. Sunday, I washed some clothes and basked on the poop watching the Spanish coast pass by. Monday was clear with lovely views of coast and snow-capped mountains. Tuesday passing Valencia and while asleep a storm arose until 1.00a.m. when douched with cold water as I had slackened the port hole above my head for ventilation. The bad weather and high wind continued with huge foam-covered rollers with the flying spume making rainbows at the wave crest. A rope was stretched fore and aft as walking was difficult requiring clinging on to the rope. To my surprise in the supposedly warm Mediterranean the decks were icy and the fresh water pump was frozen. Up forward the crew’s quarters were flooded and the men were sleeping on the engine room gratings. In the galley the cooking pots were sliding over the stove and gradually losing their contents. Occasionally everything would go quiet and we stood on the bench as a wave would come right over the skylight on the boat-deck through the panes and on to the stove creating clouds of steam while simultaneously a wave would wash along the galley floor and out on the lee-side. I peeled a cwt. of potatoes in two days, prepared onions, carrots, turnips and leeks for cooking, wash the dishes, run to and from the pantry and eat with the cook and steward in the saloon after the officers and men. One pail of potatoes which I left adjacent to a big pot containing the day’s soup and meat bones. The next morning, they were still there but the pot lid had washed along the deck, over the 18” high engine room step and was found two days later on the tank tops at the bottom of the engine room. The coming of the moon brought heavier seas with the spray flying mast high. Meanwhile we were working in the galley with a single life-belt to hand with the cook lamenting his position away from wife and home. We needed some more fresh-water and the cook said I should do it and the pump being on the weatherside I started to pump some water when it went dark, the cook slammed the galley door as I clung to the pump, a huge wave drenched me and the partially filled bucket. The ship was quivering and plunging into the nasty green water meanwhile were going slowly to hold the ship’s head to the storm and going nowhere then came the warning to stand-by in case of emergency. Friday brought extremely cold calm weather with wonderful views of the Alps. About 10.15p.m. we arrived at Genoa with the flashing alternate red and green lights marking the harbour entrance. On the Saturday morning when I got up the _Boulderpool_, another company ship was anchoring at the buoys next to us. Later in the day a second batch of mail was delivered with fifteen letters for me. The whole crew was mustered and Dr. Ottolenghi, the Port Doctor gave us all a cursory examination. Later I was called into the saloon and was asked a few questions by the police and was instructed on no account to even set foot on the quayside as I would be arrested and there was a price of £500 (5000 lire) on my head. Genoa was an imposing sight when viewed from the ship with the buildings on the hillsides surrounding this natural harbour. Being restricted, I set about my correspondence and being only fourteen and listening to the crew I warned my parents about the Chief Engineer and Chief Mate who are liked by no one. Apart from the galley I also have to keep the mate’s cabins clean and tidy. At the end of this letter, I warned about a mad chap called Carr who may call and talk about me but don’t believe much as he is half lunatic. The ship was besieged with vendors of curiosities, souvenirs, fruit, tailors and shoemakers. Sunday was a festival day for Genoa being decked in flags awaiting the Prince of Italy. On Tuesday the cook emptied the slop bucket down the chute and into the bumboat below whose owner became irate. We shifted to an unloading berth where the coal was unloaded by a gantry crane with grabs loading rail wagons with a popular destination being Switzerland. On Wednesday I went with the captain to see the British Consul who had managed to lift the restrictions. From there Mr and Mrs Magee, a kind couple, took me to their house for dinner and gave me an outfit of clothes. I was then returned to the _Ingleby_ until a homeward bound ship could be found.
On the Monday Mr Magee collected me from the _Ingleby_ and took me to Rippon & Co. shipping agents and coal importers there I met Captain Smith who after a few questions gave me the job as Mess-Room-Boy on the _S.S. Heathside_ (built 1920 & 3071gt) belonging to the Charlton McAllums of Newcastle. I took my kit from the _Ingleby, _was given some money from the Steward and said my goodbyes and went aboard the _Heathside._ On Tuesday I went to the British Consul and was officially signed on at a wage of £4 a month. Mr. Magee brought me some bedding and soled my boots. I sent another letter detailing my duties including 12 paraffin lamps to trim and replenish (no electricity) and when we expected to arrive in the Tyne. After completing cargo discharge, we had a few days with repairs to the bows from sinking the _Penelope _before sailing in ballast for the Tyne and dry-dock after nineteen days in Genoa. The cook and I were called at 5 o’clock, then tea and toast to the 2nd. Engineer down below, made his bed, shook the mats, cleaned the room, replenished the drinking water and washing water (no piped water) and by this time there would be a wonderful sunrise followed by the other cabins and meals. Near midnight after passing the “Goodwins” I was woken and told to dress as we were in thick fog with the whistle blowing but that did not stop another vessel just missing our stern. Next morning was clear and I counted 27 ships held up by the fog around us. “First the Dungeons, then the Spurn, - Flamborough Head comes next on turn – Whitby Headlights shining bright, - If all goes well, we’ll be in the Tyne tonight”. Just before midnight we arrived at the Tyne and the _Heathside_ paid off at High Shields Shipping Office (Laygate area of South Shields) with my £2-10s-0d and a train home to face the family.

Afterwards: Unable to return to school Bobbie was offered a position as Deck-Apprentice by “Ropners” but his father made him take up an apprenticeship with Richardson & Westgarth Marine Engine Builders where he was a senior draughtsman followed by being a marine engineer gaining a Chief Engineer Combined Certificate then after WW2 an Engineer Surveyor, College Lecturer and Technical Author. The final twist was when his son attended an interview to be a Marine Engineer Cadet with “Ropners”. After completing the interview, the Personnel Manager, Mr Whitehead wished to talk to my father. I was not told about his escapade for many years but they compared notes as he had been an office-boy and witnessed the rumpus my father had caused.


----------



## taffe65

Derek Garland said:


> D Garland
> I joined Thirlby in 1966 after having spent a year at Leith Nautical College and boarding on The Dolphin. I was a green deck cadet with visions of seeing the world and being paid for it. Certainly not much money as a cadet. One of the first things we were told by Mr Ovens at our lectures was that if we had joined the merchant navy just to see the world then we should forget it! I shared a cabin with another cadet called Basil from The Seychelles and must admit I had a great first trip. I became a dab hand at starting the steam pumps to unload our oil cargoes and taking daily ullages. Unfortunately I didn't keep my discharge book so can't remember where we went. I do remember sailing between Venezuela and Curacao quite a number of times. I also sailed on Barlby and Bridgepool. Once my apprenticeship finished I sailed as Third Mate on a coastal coal carrier called Storrington plying The Baltic then took a brand new tanker out of South Shields to Singapore where it was sold and we were flown back home. I left The Merchant Navy then to get married and emigrated to Australia. It was my biggest regret leaving the navy as my marriage didn't last long anyway.


LoL, I apologise for my insincerity but your last sentence cracked me up.


----------



## soccerover

Really enjoyed your posts of Ropner voyages.
My only connection with Ropners came when I joined an "old rust bucket" called 'Maratha Enterprise' in Feb 1961 - this 'wreck' had just been bought from Ropners (previous name 'Dingleby') She was a war built vessel Canadian, I think, an Ocean Class boat with the original name of 'Ocean Vengence'
I had just got my second mate's ticket after 4 years in BP and instead of going back in tankers at 37pds10 s. a month I joined this wreck in Kiel at 75 quid a month.
She was the first ship bought by Chowgule (Goa - w.c. India) - these people owned the manganese ore mines at Goa and very wealthy. They placed her in the hands of Harley Mullion (London) to manage and when i joined her in mid Feb 1961 in freezing Kiel she had a Chinese crew and Brit officers. Little did I know but it was going to be the voyage of a lifetime....


----------



## k.atkinson

trotterdotpom said:


> Duh! It just dawned on me the "-by" ships were named after North Yorkshire villages, e.g. Rudby, Romanby, Moorby, etc.
> 
> John T


Pre WW1 for every 25 ships you had to buy a destroyer hence there was the Ropner shipping company with ships ending in by Yorkshire villages and the Pool shipping company ending in pool i.e. Stonepool etc.


----------



## k.atkinson

Some of the ships I sailed on were the 2nd, 3rd & 4th iterations of that name so why were their no photos or histories stuck on a bulkhead especially those involved in a heroic action. Reardon Smiths featured some in their newsletter. Cruise ships realised passengers would be interested if only to relieve the boredom. Since coming ashore I find history of interest and can not understand why Ropners and others did not share as it might have created pride in the name.


----------



## makko

I have very much enjoyed your posts! Thanks.

Regarding your post on history, shipping companies are "heartless" for want of a better word. It is, and has always been, paying voyages, profit, putting one on the competitors. While, shipboard, you probably make the most meaningful and sincere friendships, at the end of the trip they just become some "Board of Trade" acquaintances and are never seen or heard of again. It has always been an emotionally hard life, one of independence and self-sufficiency, however, one that involves active partcipation, camaraderie, and unthinking trust in others. Quite a contradiction in terms, I know!

My grandfather, too, ran away to sea at 14. I well remember his sister, Aunty Rose, who lived in Laburnum Crescent, Wallasey, telling us how she caught Tommy trying to leave the house with a small duffel bag. When questioned by her, he said he was leaving and, pointing to a small schooner in the Wallasey Pool,said,"On her, tonight!". A. Rose thought it was a bit of fantasy and, that he would return at teatime. No such luck! He returned home, six years later, an AB, having spent some time in Australia, building the harbour bridge.

My first day in Blue Funnel's Odyssey Works, as an Engineer Cadet, I was stopped by an Old Timer. He looked me up and down and said,"Your a Rogers, yeah?". I answered yes. "I knew it!", looking at his workmate, "I sailed with your granfather Tommy before and during the war". Turns out he was a Works legend, "Pops" Blakemore, more a historical fixture than a worker!

It is great that you put your memories down in print and those of your father too. Keep it up!

Rgds.
Dave


----------



## jmcg

Fine posting Makko to a super enjoyable thread.

Always liked Ropners as a company.

BW
J


----------



## makko

Thanks John. Super thread.
Rgds.
Dave


----------



## k.atkinson

Bruce Ropner died 15th April 2022 Obituary attached


----------

