My first appointment to a ship was so drawn out that when it came it was something of an anticlimax. Firstly, whilst I was in the second term of a 3-term PMG course, I was diagnosed with TB. Into hospital, surgery and 6-months or so of follow-up treatment with new ‘miracle drugs’ which did the trick. Much angst about whether or not having had TB would prevent me from being taken on in the MN. Eventually none of the bureaucrats could find a regulation that would prohibit me from carrying on, so I did.
Eventually got my PMG in 1959 (rather later than the original of plan 1958 because of that time out) and felt on top of the world. The Brooks Bar radio college did not have facilities for BoT radar maintenance ticket training and I am not sure, at this distance, whether I was even aware such a thing existed. Anyway, supremely confident, I applied to various companies for a job as an R/O only to be told that there were no vacancies for people that hadn’t completed their 6 month period of supervised sea time. Big descent from the initial high!
Marconi told me not to despair as they might have a vacancy some time in the not too distant future; I had no money to move or seek additional training so I got a job in one of Wall’s factories. I had taken several labouring jobs there as a student in the holidays. At various times I had worked in the warehouse loading and unloading trucks with raw materials (used in the manufacture of ice cream, pies and sausages), in the factory store delivering materials to the various production units and in the deep freeze stores. This time I struck lucky and got a job on permanent nights on the loading bay of the pie and sausage factory, loading the delivery trucks and vans. The work was heavy, six nights a week, 12-hour shifts but the money was fantastic (or so it seemed at the time).
I had been working at this job for several months when I got a letter from Marconi asking if I was still interested in working as an R/O and suggesting that if I was, I should go to their Liverpool office for interview. That was early in June 1960. That day I was interviewed, given a medical, sent to the Shipping Office to get my ID card and Discharge Book and taken on. The pay was less than half of the amount I had been earning as a labourer. However I was told that I was to join a passenger ship as a junior R/O and given a list of uniform that I would need. Great things!
I went back to Manchester and bought all the stuff on the list and a couple of days later I was sent a railway voucher and instructions to travel to Avonmouth on the following Monday to join Elders & Fyffe’s’ ‘’Golfito’’. I had never been further away from Manchester than Liverpool unaccompanied so found the train journey via Crewe, Shrewsbury and Hereford to Bristol, Temple Meads, both exciting and a little daunting. The West Country accent of the station announcer there made me think I had arrived in a foreign country. The porter who I asked which train I had to get to go to Avonmouth had to repeat himself about 5 or 6 times before I understood that my route involved ‘’choinjin … stayn rowd’’. This was later translated by another passenger into ‘’changing at Stapleton Road’’ station and so I made it to Avonmouth.
Lugging my huge suitcase full of the prescribed kit, I set off across the level crossing for the dock gate and asked the policeman there for directions to the ship. I don’t remember how far it was to the berth where she was lying but I do remember that it was a very hot, summer day and I was wearing full uniform including cap! By the time I got to the foot of the gangway, I was a wreck. If it hadn’t been for the fitness gained from the previous 6 or 7 months of heavy labour, I would never have made it.
Looking up at the ship was a big disappointment. It was tiny compared to the Empress boats that I had seen at Liverpool on my visits to the Pierhead with my cousins while staying in Huyton with my Aunt. At less than 9,000 tons she even seemed small by comparison with a lot of the cargo vessels that I had walked (staggered) past on my way from the dock gates. They had just discharged cargoes of grain and appeared to rear high out of the water.
Having got my breath, I climbed the gangway and reported to the QM at the top. He directed my to the Purser’s office where someone sent me up a couple more decks to the accommodation. There I located my cabin and went in search of the radio room and the Chief R/O. I found the radio room – another disappointment – and stared at the Oceanspan I and CR300 with disbelief. They told me it was a passenger ship – surely there had to be a Globespan and Atalanta!
While I was there, the 2nd R/O came in, introduced himself as Frank Brady from Clonmel and informed me that he had arrived on the same train as me but had taken a taxi. He too was joining the ship but had already done 3 months supervised on Furness Withy’s ‘’Newfoundland’’ so was ‘street-wise’ and already knew his way around. The Chief had arrived even earlier but had gone ashore and wouldn’t be back until dinner that evening. Frank told me we would sign on the following morning and would be sailing in the afternoon for the West Indies and would be away for about a month. He showed me where the showers were, where the dining room was. I unpacked and stowed my gear, met the Chief R/O and had dinner.
Sailing day things went as Frank had explained and we made ready for sea. So no big excitements, no welcome aboard and when we left, no bands and streamers for the departing passengers. Tugs pulled us away from the berth and into the lock and off we went into the murky Bristol Channel. All very low key.