Memories of a Career at Sea

The story below was written by my late father some years ago. He did this after he had retired, as I had asked him to preserve some of the stories I had heard him tell when I was young. As a result he wrote this. It starts well before World War 2 and even has an interesting anecdote about the behaviour of a German merchant vessel in an emergency on board my father's ship, just before WW2. Although not only covering WW2 there is a big part on the War, which I hope will be of interest.

The cut and paste of this story has caused the formatting to be lost in your website, I have a Word doc in better format.

My mother is still alive, aged 94. She can remember further details of some events. She also has her own story to tell about life as a young mother in London during the War (her first child was born the day before war was declared) while my father was mostly away at sea. I am hoping to help her to record her stories but have not done so yet.

MEMORIES OF A CAREER AT SEA

BY

CAPT. J F W MITCHELL

MASTER MARINER
FORMERLY CHIEF MARINE SUPERINTENDENT
AND MARINE MANAGER OF ELLERMAN LINES LTD.
FREEMAN OF CITY OF LONDON

MEMORIES OF A CAREER AT SEA

I have never kept a diary or log books so consequently records of incidents, times and dates are purely from memory and at 84 years of age, events are hazy but all incidents are correct to the best of my knowledge. When young, I was a good mathematician but now when I am shopping it takes quite an effort to see if I have received the right change.

I always wanted to go to sea. I suppose it’s in the blood because all the male relatives on my mother’s side of the family had been sailors for generations. My Father died when I was five years old and that left my Mother with three young children so she could not afford to pay a premium for an apprenticeship, expensive outfits, uniform and books for me, the youngest. I was at St. Anne’s Boarding School until I was 14 years and 9 months of age, and had to get a job as I was determined to get enough money to pay for my own apprenticeship.

I had done quite well in my Cambridge Examinations and got an Honours Certificate. The Headmaster, Rev. W J Perry was friendly with the Staff Manager of the Royal Insurance Co, in their London Head Office, Lombard Street, E.C. He spoke for me and an interview was arranged in London. I passed the interview and was offered a position as clerk at an annual salary of £40 per annum. I started work on 1st January 1915. I saved a little money but not much. I had to have suitable dress for the City and had an hour’s journey to and from the office but it was a start. I got on well and at the end of the year got a rise in salary to £55 per annum.

During the 1916 the Bank of England wanted extra staff for War Loan work and they asked the private banks and insurance offices in London for qualified cashiers and accountants to work for them in the Bank of England in the evenings and weekends. The Royal Insurance Company thought that I was optimistic when I applied as I was only 16. However, I had an interview and was successful so now I had an opportunity to make some real money.

After my day’s work at the “Royal” I worked in the Bank of England every night from 6.00p.m. to 11.00p.m. on Monday to Friday. On Saturdays from 2.00pm to 11.00pm and Sundays 9.00am to 6.00pm with never a day off. I was making wonderful money 2/6d per hour and banking nearly all of it.

In 1917 during my lunch hour I started looking for a shipping company to get to sea. I found this very difficult as there were no sailings ships available and a long waiting list for berths in steamers because of the large number of ships being sunk by German submarines and often a good number of the crews saved and naturally they had the preference.

Finally I found the Fargrove S.S.Co., of Leadenhall Street who had ten steamers at that time. They were what we would call a good class of tramp steamers all called after lighthouses. They offered me an indentured apprenticeship as soon as one became available. Before this came about the whole fleet was bought over by J.C. Gould S.S. Co., of Cardiff and my application was transferred to them. Ultimately I signed my indentures on 11th December 1917, and my Mother signed also as surety. I had now achieved my objective and was off to sea with money to buy my uniforms and all sea gear and books. I also had money in the bank to supplement my pocket money for the four years. My indenture salary was; 1st year £5 per annum, 2nd year £8 per annum, 3rd year £12 per annum and 4th year £15 per annum. The handsome total of £40 covering the four years.

I joined my first ship the “Eddystone” which was approx. 10,000 tons dead-weight at the Anglo-American Oil Co’s Wharf at Purfleet, Essex. This ship had been serving in the Dardanelles during that fatal campaign and was now on the Atlantic oil run between U.K. and New York, carrying Kerosene in barrels. These were oak barrels each of 40 gallons and of course it took many tens of thousands of them for a full cargo. They were full of Kerosene from New York to U.K. and they were then all returned empty back to New York.

The half-deck was the cabin in which we four apprentices lived and it was fitted with four bunks, a table, a settee, drawers and lockers. We had to eat and live completely in the half-deck which meant storing our food in the lockers. Our rations of dry stores were weighed out to us once a week. For instance, a 14oz. tin of condensed milk had to last each of us three weeks. We had cockroaches so in order to make sure that I got my milk, and not them, I used to make two holes in the tin, lay on my back and drink the milk in one session and that solved the problem of milk for three weeks. On long sea trips the fresh water pump was kept locked and we got a daily ration each, half of which we had to give to the Cook for our tea and cooking. This meant that we did not do too much washing of clothes or ourselves unless we caught rain water when possible. Our working routine was four hours on and four hours off, day and night every day. During our watch on we took two hours at the wheel, one hour stand-by working and one hour on lookout.

My first voyage is worth relating as I was a new boy. We sailed from Purfleet at 4.00a.m. Christmas Day and it was mighty cold with an east wind blowing and plenty of snow flurries. By the time we reached Southend we had to stream our paravanes sweeping for mines. The German submarines were very active in the Channel and we had to anchor in the Downs, inside the Isle of Wight, Portland etc. It took us four days to reach Plymouth and in that time we had plenty of anchor drill and mine sweeping drill.

From Plymouth we sailed in convoy for about one third of the voyage across the Atlantic. In the convoy I saw my first sight of a ship torpedoed. She was the commodore ship of the convoy and was quite close to us. After the explosion, the fore end of the ship (bows) reared very quickly high out of the sea and the stern sank deep. She was at such a steep angle that the forward hatches burst open and the cargo spilled out of the hold like an avalanche on to the bridge and the amidships accommodation, then sank quickly.

We had a 4.7 inch gun aft and three Royal Marines (one a Sergeant) as gun crew but two more of a crew were required so I volunteered and trained, and for my services I was paid 6d per day but only in the danger zone at sea. However, it was very welcome because it was much more than my ordinary pay which was 3d per day, not much more than 1p per day in present metric money.

We continued the voyage which was very cold, very rough, with poor visibility and snow nearly all the time. We were nearing New York and sighted a light on Long Island which was visible now and again. I was on watch on the bridge with the 2nd Officer who called the Captain. He set a new course and then went back to bed as it was about 2.00a.m. After a long period, the 2nd Officer said we do not appear to be making much progress on that light and the bearing was not changing. He ordered me to go aft and read the log. I found the log line slack and the log not rotating but the propeller was churning away and making a great wash. Realising that something was wrong I was next ordered to drop the lead. We found there was just two fathoms at the bridge and when I went forward into the bows the fore foot was in the breakers. We were steaming full speed ahead but were ashore on a sandy beach. Having only a light weight cargo aboard we were trimmed well down by the stern and the trim was practically the same as the declivity of the beach consequently there was no noticeable bump and we were plowing our way into the sand of Long Island. It took four days with assistance of a salvage ship to refloat us but there was no apparent damage. The final result was that it had been a different light we had sighted to the one expected. Needless to say the Captain was dismissed on the return to the U.K.

When we docked in Bayonne N.J., which is a section of New York harbour, we discharged our empty barrels and loaded another cargo of full ones. On the engine-room staff is a donkeyman whose job it is to tend the donkey boiler to supply steam, in port, for all the auxiliaries such as the winches and heating. This donkeyman worked twelve hours during the day time and I got the job as night donkeyman doing the twelve hours at night which involved trimming the coal, firing the boiler furnaces and pumping up the boiler water. It was a very cold winter but at least I had a warm job.

On another voyage we had no empty barrels aboard and we were very light as this ship had no deep tanks. In a fierce gale, which lasted for days, we found ourselves helpless as she would not steer and drifting between the two lighthouses on the ends of the crescent shaped Sable Island off Nova Scotia. We were completely helpless like a balloon on the water and could not steer out from the lee shore. The double bottom tanks carried only water ballast flooded the holds with about ten feet of sea water. She still would not steer so when about a mile off shore we changed to full speed astern instead of full ahead and the trim being well by the stern the ship backed into the huge seas and the light bow swung to the beach. She was just about holding her own when a huge sea, about 60feet high, smashed into the stern and broke three and a half blades right off our cast iron propeller which had a diameter of about sixteen feet and weighed several tons, and the main engines were racing away like a sewing machine. We immediately dropped both anchors as a last resort and payed out all the cable on each. The anchors brought her up and the stern swung round towards the beach which by now was getting very close. One cable broke so now we were just held by one anchor. I am glad to relate that this one held on for four days until the storm abated. The huge waves were washing up one side of the island and down to the other side as the land was not very steep. There was a wireless station on the highest part of the land and they advised us to not even attempt to lower lifeboats as no boats could possibly land on the beach in such weather. They stood by for four days with the rocket apparatus in case we got wrecked. When the storm was over a salvage ship towed us to Halifax N.S. To save money we did not dry-dock but tipped the ship with water ballast and with some shore assistance took off the stump and boss of the broken propeller and replaced it with the spare one which was stowed on board.

When the ship finished on the oil run we went to South America and loaded grain and cattle bones. You might think bones was a strange cargo and rightly so because it was difficult to describe the smell but they were very valuable to extract the glycerine to help make munitions. We called into West Africa for the homeward convoy and when we sailed I was on lookout up in the crows nest which was a barrel up the top of the foremast, it was a sight to see about a dozen huge sharks so clearly, and all at once. The authorities had been dumping bodes by the lighter full. There had been a local epidemic hence the bodies. We arrived in the Bristol Channel to discharge and on 11th November the armistice was signed.

We then traded to South America and then carrying coal on the Indian Coast loading in Calcutta for Bombay, Karachi etc. I have never forgotten the sight of the labour loading coal in Kiddapore Dock, Calcutta, both men and women carrying baskets of coal on their heads up a very long heavy plank like a gangway — dumping the coal down the hatches and then back down another plank all day long and all night in the intense heat and dust. I would never have believed it if I had not seen it more than once; a pregnant woman doing this in the morning and then later the same day carrying the coal again and the new born baby strapped on her back as she was carrying. I sincerely hope conditions are not the same today.

We had an interesting voyage from Sydney N.S.W., to the Tonga Islands to load a full cargo of copra. In those days everything was very primitive and there was not even money in circulation. For loading the ship the Tongans used to march down in the morning singing in most wonderful harmony. They were paid by having a motion picture shown in the open air at night. In those days it was not called a cinema but a biograph and it hurt your eyes to look but the Tongans thought it wonderful and laughed fit to kill themselves. They were a very happy people and no wonder they were called the Friendly Islands. As we walked in the villagers they would laugh and greet us and then gather a certain root out of the earth, wash it, then pound it in like a pestle and mortar, add water, then squeeze the water out a little at a time, throw the stringy spongy mass of root away and the liquid left was “Kava” a very potent drink generally served in a half cocoa-nut shell. Nothing else was added but it is just as potent as gin and all for nothing.

We loaded in Tonga for about six weeks and then on to the Samoa Islands to continue loading copra at Apia, the capital. The Governor invited us to a Ball in Government House. It was quite a grand affair, with sumptuous food and drinks and even “Kava” was served there as well as everything else. I did an interesting trek up the mountain behind Apia. The natives cut a road up the mountain so that they could transport R.L. Stevenson’s body up for burial. He had a wonderful tomb with some of his famous lines about the stars carved on it. R.L. Stevenson was worshipped by the natives. I had a good rest sitting on his tomb before setting off down the mountain.. It was all very interesting, and I had a photograph taken.

On the voyage home across the Pacific, Panama Canal and Atlantic, this full cargo of copra in bulk solidified and about 25% of it turned into copra bugs which came out of the hatches and ventilators in millions; so many that if it was not windy you could not see the colour of the ships paintwork. We discharged this full cargo, which was literally alive, at a margarine factory in Rotterdam.

For we apprentices, with hardly any money, Australia was one of the best countries to visit because the Mission to Seamen were very helpful and arranged outings and social events such as dances for us and also introduced plenty of girls as partners. Perhaps on a Saturday night we might manage enough money to buy a girl a lemonade. They often invited us to their homes for a meal and to meet their parents.

When I had served three years of my apprenticeship I was the senior apprentice and was made boatswain to run the deck crew. This was a hard job because the crew were a tough gang of mixed nationalities, and containing some old salts who had been at sea many years. I had to run them and they resented it. It saved the Company paying the wages of a boatswain but I did not get a penny for the job. I had just started on my higher pay of £15 per annum. We did have one minor mutiny of the firemen not the seamen. After a bit of rough house the Captain had to calm them down by brandishing his revolver. I had to assist stitching up some of the wounds as we did not carry a doctor. I remember one Negro had his scalp slashed with a razor from forehead to nape of the neck. The scalp opened up like splitting a melon. It was not an easy wound to stitch but he survived.

I did the boatswain’s job for about six months and then when we sailed from Cardiff on the next voyage I was promoted 3rd mate without a certificate and of course without an officers’ pay, just the same £15 per annum. It saved the Company having to pay 3rd mates wages. I kept the bridge watch for eight hours per day plus extra duties. It was a good job for me and wonderful experience. It also gave me more time to continue my studies. We were trading from Australia to India and Java. Ten days before our arrival in Sydney N.S.W., I completed my four years indenture so right after breakfast I reported this to the Captain and of course he had to sign me on the Articles as 3rd Mate because I was already doing the job and had been for about six months. I think I signed for £17 per month. Wealth indeed after four years on pence.

The Master Capt. Harrison had been in command of the ship for three years; he was a kindly man from Whitby and he knew I had studied very hard. We were due in Sydney on a Friday afternoon and I felt that I was ready to sit the examination for my 2nd Mates Certificate. The Captain consulted the Agent on our arrival and I got their permission to make the necessary arrangements. On the Saturday morning I had to proceed to Garden Island which is the Australian Royal Navy’s Signal Station to take an examination, in Signals. I passed this and gained a certificate to that effect. Then I had to enter my application before noon to sit the examination starting at 9.00a.m. on the Monday morning. There was one snag. I did not possess a First Aid Certificate, which was also required to be produced when I applied and paid the exam fee — all before noon. The Agent suggested that I attend at the Custom House with my papers and submit them to the Chief Clerk of Customs and instead of the First Aid Certificate, explain matters to him and place a £1 note in its place. this I did and the Chief Clerk accepted same but warned me that it would have to appear that he had over-looked it.

I intended to live on board the ship the week of the examination. Monday morning came and I was good and early. I went into the waiting room and put my hat and coat on vacant No. 13 peg. I was 13 years old on 13th March 1913 so I considered 13 my lucky number. There were about twenty candidates present. They looked at me and one said “You are in the wrong waiting room — the engineers are elsewhere”. I said I was not an engineer but sitting for 2nd Mate. They said “You were not at the Nautical College”. I said “No I had not been to College”. They all laughed like hell. Most of them had been to College for six months or more. I got started on the examination and got through Monday OK; some failed. On Tuesday I was writing away when the Chief Examiner approached my desk and said “You are Mitchell” — “Yes”. Then he said “I cannot find your First Aid Certificate”. I acted dumb saying I had not got one. He could not understand how I got in. He said “Surely the Nautical College saw that you attended a course and obtained a certificate”. I said “I had not been to College”. This rather stumped him and I think he thought I was ignorant concerning the Procedure. After consideration he said “You cannot go on any further you must leave and take the examination for First Aid and apply at a later date to site this exam”. When I explained that I was still living on my ship in the harbour and requested to be allowed to continue he relented saying “You can continue but even if you pass you cannot obtain your certificate until you have passed First Aid at a future date”. A few other candidates were failed each day and when it came to Friday afternoon it was Chart Work with three hours allowed for the paper. I finished mine in 1½ hours and took my paper up. The Head Examiner said “You have only used half of the time allotted and had better go through it again”. I asked him if I could not start my seamanship exam as my ship was sailing the next day for India. I think he was surprised by this unusual request because the seamanship examine is all oral and the most feared part of the exam. However, he gave me 1½ hours of seamanship and then said “Come back again 9.00 a.m. Saturday. I was naturally very relieved as there was only myself and one other candidate who was sitting for a square rigged Master (sailing ship) left. All the others had failed.

I went back on board the ship which was finished loading and at anchor waiting to sail. Capt. Harrison and our Agent were very pleased at my progress and said the ship would wait for me and sail on the Saturday. On Saturday I had one more hour of seamanship. He finally passed me and congratulated me but still stated I could not get the Certificate until I produced the missing one. I was naturally very pleased because I was already keeping a watch and from the next day I was putting in my sea-time for 1st Mates Certificate. I went back on board and the Captain was so pleased he said right we will all go ashore to the Australia Hotel for lunch to celebrate. The Captain, Agent and a few of their friends celebrated very well. We returned to the ship and we sailed escorted out of Sydney Heads by the guests in a launch. When we were safely out at sea the Captain made me sign the bill for the lunch which cost me about a month’s wages, but as far as I was concerned it was well worth it. To complete the incident I took the lectures and passed the First Aid in India. Some months later back in Sydney, I finally got my 2nd Mates Certificate. In May 1923 I passed my 1st Mates Certificate in London after spending a month at Nautical School.

I joined the S.S. “Grelrosa” in August as 2nd Mate and found that she did not carry a 3rd Mate. She was a smaller ship of about 7,000 tons dead-weight, and she was a very hard job. Words cannot describe the Captain named Williams. He was just impossible and a very hard task master. Not one person in the whole ship had a good word for him. The Chief Officer and I had to work all day with the crew and then had to keep 4 hours on and 4 hours off all the remainder of the day and night. This meant we did 16 hours of duty one day and 20 hours of duty the next. On the 20 hour day we were just off from midnight to 4.00a.m., and on the 16 hour day off duty 8.00p.m. to midnight and then 4.00a.m. to 8.00a.m. On Sundays when the crew were only on watches but not other work we kept watch on the bridge sewing canvas making boat covers, ventilator covers etc.

We were discharging cargo in Alexandria and I was working all day, long hours supervising the cargo gear, oiling the steam winches etc. One day Captain Williams came aboard and saw me standing on deck watching the discharging and he sent for the Chief Officer and told him to do my duty and for me to join the crew chipping and painting overside on the hull. That finished me and I went straight up to Capt. Williams and had a lovely row. He told me I was lazy. I told him I did not get qualified as an officer to work as a sailor and that from that moment I was going to do 2nd Mate’s duties as that was what I signed the Articles for and nothing else. We had a flaming row and nearly came to blows. Luckily I controlled myself and did not strike him otherwise I would have been in trouble. I did not relent and he cabled Head Office in Cardiff to have me relieved. I wrote to the Office explained the circumstances and said I wished to resign on arrival in U.K. The Captain was as mad as hell because I just kept my watch at sea for 12 hours per day and recognised routine such as the navigation and then sat around in the sun studying or reading.

From Alexandria we were ordered to South Russia. Very few ships went there because the Revolution had hardly settled down. We sailed up through the Dardanelles to Constantinople where the British Consul arranged to supply the Captain with plenty of gold as the Russians would not accept any other currency. From Constantinople we sailed up the Black Sea to Kertch Strait. We anchored off Kertch and about a hundred Russians invaded the ship and searched her from the top of the masts to the bottom of the holds and tanks etc, for any printed or written matter. We were not allowed to keep any letter or printed matter; not even a Bible or letters from wives or mothers. Even old newspapers we had in the bottoms of drawers for our clothes were confiscated. The only printed matter allowed were charts and navigation books and official ship’s papers. They gave Cpt. Williams lots of notices and regulations which had to be complied with by the time we docked at Byrdansk or fines would be imposed. He sent for me and told me to attend strictly to them while we were sailing up the Sea of Azov. I examined all the documents and they were addressed to the Captain. I did nothing at all. I was not the Captain and I saw this as my opportunity to get even with him. When we docked the officials wanted the completed forms. I had not done anything and when the Captain sent for me I told him I was the 2nd Officer and not the Captain to whom they were addressed. He nearly had a fit and raved and stormed. The Russians fined him heavily and he had to pay up in gold.

I was interested to see conditions ashore so I applied and was allowed to, accompanied by two armed guards. Of course they only let me go where they were agreeable. The streets were still full of rubble because while the Revolution was in progress the French Naval Forces bombarded the town. Three days before we docked the head Bolshevik was shot publicly in the Square. He had been given 30,000 roubles to clean up the streets and get lighting back. When he got the money, being a good communist, he ran off with it but they caught him. I did not see one woman anywhere except with bare feet, but the men all had boots. I was taken into the Bolshevik Club and made a temporary member. The walls of the Club were covered with photographs of the revolution showing the executions of the aristocracy etc. I managed to talk to one young woman who could speak a little English and a little French. She told me that her Mother, Father and Brothers were shot in front of her Grandmother and herself. She said that the two of them only kept themselves alive by eating grass, leaves, berries and the bodies of the dead. Yet we were loading a cargo of wheat now not long after the events she described, but the Communists were desperately in need of the currency as the country was bankrupt.

When the ship returned to the U.K. I left her. The Captain had given me an official “very good” discharge for both ability and conduct, but he would not give me a written reference which I had to have for my next examination for my Master Certificate. I plagued the Marine Superintendent of the Company for one and at first he refused but I got the “Guild of Officers” to threaten them with their solicitors so in the end I got the reference I required. I might add that I finished my service the J.C. Gould & Co. The Chief Officer also left the “Grelrosa” and we both joined a ship called S.S. “Burdale”. We sailed for the River Plate in December 1923 and returned to the U.K. in April 1924. I left the ship and was determined to join a liner company as I had had enough of tramp ships.

It was not easy to join a liner company but finally I was interviewed by Capt. Wyse the Marine Superintendent of the Ellerman & Bucknall S.S. Co, and he offered me an appointment to join the Company as 3rd Officer. I refused this as I had been 2nd Officer on three ships and I did not want to revert to 3rd Officer. A week later he offered me a 2nd Officer’s appointment in the Company, which I was glad to accept. I travelled to Leith on 9th May 1924 and joined S.S. “Lorenzo” as a passenger to New York. She was a fine ship, actually an ex-German handed over as reparation after World War I. What a treat it was in a good company, quite a different life to that which I had previously experienced.

On arrival in New York I joined the S.S. “Kabinga” as 2nd Officer. In New York the ship loaded non-stop day and night and I was on night duty. The Captain named Keogh was a charming man and a bachelor, I should say about 45 years old. He met an American lady in New York and got married to her and she was going to join him for the voyage. He gave her a lot of money to buy clothes as the ship was to sail to Australia via Panama Canal. He came aboard and asked me to look out for a new double bed he had bought, and also to let him know immediately his bride arrived. The bed came but no bride. He naturally got very worried. To cut a long story short she never arrived and next day he went to the police. He left the ship and a new Captain took command. Eventually it was discovered by the police that she had done this confidence trick before. I, in fact all of us, felt very sorry for him as he was such a nice and very good living man. He eventually shot himself as he never got over the incident.

Under the new captain we completed the voyage to Australia and around the world back to U.K. I did one more trip in the “Kabinga” to East Africa, India and back home. I finally left her in May 1925 to sit for my Master examination in London, which I passed on 22nd June 1925 after attending Nautical College for one month.

After spending some time in the London Office I was promoted to Chief Officer and joined the S.S. “Griqua”. She was about 6,500 tons deadweight and the smallest ship in the Ellerman & Bucknall fleet but to me she was like a yacht. I spent the next two years in her trading, with the exception of one short voyage between U.K. and Mediterranean countries carrying general cargo outward and fruit etc homewards. They were short voyages of about two months each. The one exception was one voyage for the White Star Line to New York and back which was only about six weeks. I left her in May 1927 and was appointed to stand by the building of our newest ship the “City of Canberra” in West Hartlepool. This was a very interesting job as she was a refrigerated ship building for the Australian trade. When the building of the ship was completed and she was ready for the trial trip I was relieved and a more senior Chief Officer sent to take my place. Naturally I was very disappointed. I was transferred to the ship he had left S.S. Koranna” and did a voyage to India and back. On return to U.K. I was relieved and brought back into the London Office as the stability department. It appeared that the Chief Officer of the “City of Canberra” on the maiden voyage got very drunk when there was a very special lunch on board in Sydney given for the Australian government ministers to celebrate the new ship named after their new capital city. The Managing Director of our head Australian office cabled home for the Chief Officer to be relieved consequently I was kept in the office until the return of “City of Canberra”.

I rejoined “City of Canberra” in Manchester and we sailed early in June for New York in ballast. The day we sailed the Master, Capt. McLennan, took quite ill and had to stay in bed and in a couple of days was very seriously ill and I had to take command. The ship generally carried a doctor but at that time our crew was just under one hundred in number and we had no passengers on board so no doctor was signed on in U.K. I diagnosed that the Captain had double pneumonia. He was lapsing into unconsciousness at times so in mid Atlantic I sent out a wireless message asking if a doctor was available. I got an answer from the large three funnel German liner “Resolute” commanded by Capt. Kruse. She had two doctors and nurses on board as was carrying 2,000 passengers. We steered to meet and I had everything ready to transfer our Captain to the “Resolute”. At times he was unconscious and at times fairly normal. The ships met and a German Doctor and a nurse boarded us. He confirmed that our Captain had pneumonia and pleurisy. Capt. Kruse said not to waste time and send our Captain over to the “Resolute” and he would land him at Plymouth. Capt. McLennan was fairly stable at that period and said to me ”you are not throwing me off my ship”. I was in an awkward position and tried to persuade him but it was useless. The Doctor left after giving me some advice and extra drugs. They were very kind indeed and followed the highest traditions of the sea.

We increased to maximum speed for New York and the next day the patient was unconscious and remained in that condition. I had a very trying time for thick fog set in and never cleared for the remainder of the voyage. We had no sights to check our position for four days. I had to remain on the bridge the whole of the time. On the fourth night as we were approaching Long Island the Captain died. In those days we did not have any of the modern aids such as radar but only a wireless telegraph direction finder for short a “D.F.” We should have been approaching Fire Island Lighthouse but we did not hear its fog signal and of course it could not be seen because of the fog. I got the Wireless Operator to take three D.F. bearings and they gave me a cocked hat on the chart six miles south of Fire Island Lighthouse; just where I expected to be, but some instinct would not let me neglect any precautions so I had the deep sea lead cast every 15 minutes. I was watching from the wing of the bridge when they were casting and I saw the wire slacken almost as soon as they let the lead go. I ordered “hard-a-port steer south”. When we got the result of the cast it was only 5 fathoms. After stealing 5 miles we made Fire Island Lighthouse. The cocked hat position was 11 miles out. We had been 5 miles north of the Lighthouse and not six miles south. Had I not gone hard-a-port we would have been ashore within minutes. All this happening and the Captain dying at the same time was a bit hectic as I had been on the bridge for days and nights without a break and I still had to make the N.Y. pilot vessel in thick fog. However, we made it without any further trouble.

When the Captain died I took the precaution of immediately locking up his accommodation including dayroom, bedroom, office and bathroom and keeping the keys for safety. We got the Pilot and docked at our pier in Brooklyn, and I was very thankful to see the normal officials and also those in connection with the death. The next day I had to be registered at the Customs to officially take command and enter the slip and attend to the business in hand.

The Purser/Chief Steward came to me and stated that before we sailed from Manchester, Capt. McLennan was short of cash and had borrowed quite a sum from him and would I make arrangements to reimburse him. I never did trust the Purser and said I was sorry I could not do that so he had better put a claim into the Company, and then told him there were hundreds of pounds in the Captain’s safe so why did he borrow from him? That stumped him and how glad I was that I had locked up when the Captain died. Later the Purser said his typewriter was broken and he had borrowed the Captain’s one, and when he was so ill he had told the Purser he had been so good to him that he could have the typewriter as a reward. Again, I told him to put a claim in to the Company and I took it away.

We cabled Capt. McLennan’s relatives in the UK and suggested that as an old sailor it might be appropriate to bury him at sea and they concurred. Our local Superintendent arranged for an undertaker to attend to the business and we advised him that as it was a burial at sea he should make certain that the coffin was heavy enough to sink. It’s quite common in U.S.A to have metal caskets. We used one of our New York tugboats who were contracted to do our towing, and steamed out to sea beyond Sandy Nook into deep water. The service was conducted by the local person for the Mission to Seamen. There were quite a lot of people on board connected with the Company and the local press. When we committed the body to the deep unfortunately it did not sink. Not wishing any publicity we primed the Press boys up with plenty of whisky and food while the casket was filling and at the appropriate time, and with a little manoeuvring, I managed with just a few people in the know to hack a hole in the casket with a fire axe and all was well. I kept command while the ship was on the coast but a senior Captain was sent over from the UK in the “Homeric” and I resumed as Chief Officer.

I was in the “City of Canberra” for years. Most of the voyages were around the world via Canada, USA, Panama Canal, the Pacific, Australia, New Zealand and home via Suez or Cape of Good Hope. These were all routine voyages with sometimes interesting passengers to break the monotony. One voyage we called at Pitcairn Island for a few hours. On another Capt. Wyse, the retired Marine Superintendent, who first appointed me when I joined the Company, was one of the passengers. He and I became great friends and spent a lot of time together. When we were off and homeward bound he unfortunately died. I never thought years before when he appointed me, that one day I would help to sew him up and bury him.

Another interesting voyage was the Far East, Singapore, Malaya, Hong Kong, Japan and China discharging and then sailed up the Yangtse-Kiang river as far as Hankow. This took four days and the sights were worth seeing. I was a great admirer of the Chinese in those days. They are hard workers, clean and always kept their word once it was given.

I was the Chief Officer of the “City of Canberra” for eight years until January 1936, but during that time the depression came along and I was stood off without pay for one period of twelve months and another of five months. Had I not had some savings in the bank I would have been desperate because I did not qualify for the dole as I did not pay National Insurance. Twelve months without one penny coming in is not funny. In the present depression (1980’s) one reads of men better off on the dole than working but in the old days it was quite a different story. I have a sad memory of one of my colleagues, a Senior Chief Officer to me, and a little older than myself, who was married and had three children; he was stood off at the same time as myself. He gradually had to sell off his furniture and household goods to buy food and when all was exhausted he finally committed suicide. For obvious reasons I will not name him.

During the eight years I was on “City of Canberra” I was offered the job of the Company’s Far East Superintendent and stationed in Singapore. To the Company’s disgust I turned it down as I had no fancy of living out East.

I finally left the ship in January 1936 and was given the job of Cargo Superintendent in charge of loading our ships for the South African trade. This entailed loading two ships at the same time in Middlesborough. Then the passenger ship would proceed to Royal Albert Dock, London, to complete and I would proceed around the Continent to Antwerp, Rotterdam, Hamburg and then to Royal Albert Dock, to complete loading the cargo ship. Then return to Middlesborough to start the same process all over again. I did this for eleven months but wanted to get back deep sea again, so I resigned in December 1936, and was appointed Chief Officer of S.S. “City of Dieppe.” She was a good refrigerated ship and I was back on the Australian trade from UK and USA.

I joined S.S. “City of Dieppe” in December 1935 and left her soon after war was declared in September 1939, and during the whole of the nearly three years we were doing our regular runs UK, Canada, USA, Australia, New Zealand and back to the UK. Of course there were little incidents but nothing really worth relating here. A week before war was declared we were in Liverpool and the ship was requisitioned to be converted into a naval store-ship to carry every conceivable item which a Royal Navy ship might require. At the same time, she was strengthened to take her armament. By the day war was actually declared the work was well in hand. I stood by for part of the time but I also did two weeks gunnery course on the “President” and the “Chrysanthemum”, the Royal Naval training ships on the Victoria Embankment, London.

I joined the “City of Pretoria” at the beginning of November and she was a larger, more powerful and faster ship. In view of her speed, we sailed to New York independently as that was considered to be safer in some circumstances than being in convoy, as well as saving a lot of time.

In New York we loaded a very special and urgent cargo of all kinds of war material, and on deck we had many Glen Martin bomber planes in large crates. While this was going on the American press was full of details of what we were loading and stating that the Germans were flying overhead taking photographs. There were also statements in the press that we would never get to the other side and suggesting that a German pocket battleship would be waiting for us. The whole project was a French effort and details of the convoy were as follows:-

Three fast French merchants ships in line abreast and the “City of Pretoria” alone in the second line following the centre leading vessel. Just four fast ships. When at sea we got into formation. We were joined by what I would describe as a French Fleet. There was one battleship, the “Lorraine”, two cruisers and in one of them the “Jean de Vaine” an Admiral in charge, and eleven destroyers. All French except the “City of Pretoria”. We were an efficient convoy and we did not have the slightest difficulty with signals etc. We crossed the Atlantic on a southerly course and never had a bit of bother with the enemy, in fact we never even sighted any of them. Probably they expected us to head towards France but we went to Casablanca where on arrival, we discharged our bombers to be assembled and flown to France. That completed we sailed for France and each vessel went into a different port and the escorts thinned out as we progressed. We were the last of the four left and after we rounded Ushant the last destroyer left us and went into Brest, wishing us good-bye and told us to proceed to Le Havre. We were then in the Channel alone and when we were somewhere north of the Channel Islands, without a word of warning or sighting, a submarine came right up under our stern so close that the gunners on watch could not depress our 4.7 gun low enough to take a pot shot. It dived again very quickly and that’s the last we knew of him. Quite frankly I don’t know which of us was the most surprised. We docked in Le Havre and when discharged, proceeded to the UK.

On the next voyage we once again loaded a complete military cargo and proceeded independently to South Africa en route to Suzes Bay, which was by this time a hive of activity including troop ships. After discharging we sailed to India and loaded for the UK. Once again, in UK we loaded with the same type of cargo including many kinds of ammunition and explosives. The last weekend in Liverpool I decided to slip home to say goodbye to my wife and baby daughter. In the train I took very ill quite suddenly and was very lucky to get home without collapsing. When home I got the doctor who said I had a very bad and dangerous attack of influenza which meant a long stay in bed. I had slipped home quite unofficially so the Company had to be informed and a successor appointed. The “City of Pretoria” sailed and was never heard of again. After the war the German records stated that a “U” boat commander logged “ship sighted and from sight believe she is “Ellerman” ship of “City of Pretoria” class, fired torpedoes with result huge explosion and ship disappeared completely.” It was the Pretoria and all my old shipmates died; especially the Captain, Chief Engineer and Doctor who were great friends; but for that bad attack of influenza I would have been with them. However, fate decided otherwise.

I had been Chief Officer for sixteen years, all promotion to Captain was slow on account of the depression and the heavy loss of ships due to the war. However, in April 1941, I was promoted and joined “City of Keeling” at Newcastle-on-Tyne. She was berthed at Armstrong Whitworths and loading complete gun turrets and other material for repairs to some of our capital ships. After crossing the Atlantic we docked in Brooklyn Naval Yard, New York and discharged. We then loaded water material in Canada and the USA. We sailed independently to St Lucia, West Indies for fuelling, then to Burban S.A., and once again to Suez Bay. We loaded more war equipment again in India for Suez and finally back to Bombay to load for U.K. via a convoy from Freetown. I left her in April 1942.

I joined the “Port Tadoussac” in May 1942 at Liverpool. She was a new ship just built in Canada and was a coal burner and, unfortunately, I had to sign on a white crew which was a great change after so many years with Indian crews.

I am going to quote now an extract from the book entitled “Heroes of the Merchant Navy” written by Leonard R. Gribble. I have never heard of, or met Mr Gribble and I don’t know where he obtained all his facts but they are essentially true. I only read this book a few years ago. Quote:-

“Perhaps symbolic of all the Merchantmen that sail to deliver troops and supplies to the battlefronts is the 7,000 ton “Port Tadoussac”. She was anchored in Tripoli, unloading petrol for the Eighth Army when she was attacked by bombers. “ We had three raids a night and flares lit up the harbour as bright as daylight” said her Master Capt. J. F. Mitchell. “We were unloading petrol all night. Other ships and ourselves put up a tremendous barrage, but I know that what went up had to come down, and that we were running enormous risks as our petrol —hatches were full of gas, and it only required a spark to set it off. I asked if we could stop discharging petrol during these attacks, and my question was subsequently put to General Montgomery, who said if we were to win he had got to have the supplies, and he relied on the ships to deliver them to him. No doubt I should have said the same had I been in his position.”

So the Canadian built “Fort Tadoussac” continued unloading until the last can had been delivered. There was no accident, and the Eighth Army, as all the world knows got its petrol. The “Fort Tadoussac” had left Britain in June 1942 laden with ammunition, bombs, military stores and motor transport for the Middle East. She discharged her cargo then went to Bombay carrying a large cargo of ammunition. While lying in another port her bunker coal caught fire, and for two weeks, with the bulkheads next to the holds in which the ammunition was stored red-hot, her crew fought the fire. It was difficult to keep under control as the ship was grounded at low tide, but by the time the “Port Tadoussac” had arrived at another port the last sparks had been extinguished. Loaded afresh, the “Fort Tadoussac” steamed from Karachi, bound again for the Middle East, where she once more discharged her cargo and sailed for Malta, down to the waterline with petrol, ammunition and food. She arrived in Valetta during the Christmas holiday and Captain Mitchell lunched on Boxing Day with Lord Gort.

During the next three voyages between Tripoli and Egypt she was subjected to continuous air attack. In Tripoli alone dozens of attacks were made on her. “ but the enemy did not get it all his own way” Capt. Mitchell recorded. “We saw a number shot down”.

Submarines then tried to succeed where the Luftwaffe pilots had failed. She was the target for several torpedoes while sailing in convoy, but an elusive target. Captain Mitchell, from the Fort’s bridge, had what he termed a “first class” view of the killing of a submarine.

On some of her return trips she carried German prisoners. But when the invasion of Sicily was scheduled she dumped her prisoners and took on more petrol, ammunition, and other stores for the invasion forces. Her decks were stacked with more motor transport. Arriving off Sicily, she got a warm welcome from the furious enemy, and a bomb missed her bows by inches. It sent a column of beach mud and water a hundred feet into the air. But luckily no harm came to the ship.

She was in the Mediterranean still when the Italian campaign opened, but by the end of September her work was finished. After sixteen months of continuously running risks and performing a great job, of which any Merchant Service Master might be proud, Captain Mitchell brought the young veteran “Fort Tadoussac” back to Britain.

Before she left the sphere of her fights and fame, General Sir Brian Robertson, General Montgomery’s Chief Administrative Officer, paid her a visit. Addressing the ship herself he said with feeling “You are one of the old-stagers in this area, and I wish you the best of luck.”

That is the end of the extract in the book

There are a few other memories of the “Fort Tadoussac” which are of interests to me so I will relate some of them:-

In the convoy to Malta I was the Vice-Commodore and the Commodore was Capt. McKellar of the “Ocean Voyage”. Lord Gort invited both of us to lunch at St. Anton Palace and afterwards he dismissed his Aides and just the three of us sat in a walled garden and yarned for about two hours. He was a charming man and was very interested in our jobs and also talked about his own. During the visit all was quiet; no sound of bombs or guns. Unfortunately, Captain McKellar, the Commodore, was killed at a later date when the “Ocean Voyager” got a direct bomb hit.

Also in Malta I received a visit from two RAF Officers, one was a Padre and the President of the Mess. He asked me if we could spare some stores for the mess as they were very short. I sold them cigarettes, liquor and food to the value of approximately £400. They were delighted and the next evening I was their guest of honour, sitting next to the Station Commander and devouring some of the stores I had provided. While I was there a flight of planes set out for a raid on Italy and they offered to take me with them for the experience. I said “No thanks I have enough troubles of my own”. I was still there when the planes returned and two were missing”.

While I was in Tripoli on one voyage, General Sir Brian Robertson sent me an invitation to the Victory Lunch at the “Del Mechari” and it was very interesting to meet all the Heads of Staff of the Army, Navy and RAF, who were involved in the whole Mediterranean operations. I sat next to Admiral Harwood who earlier was Captain of “HMS Exeter” and involved in the Graf Spee Battle.

In one of the convoys from Alexandria to Tripoli “Ellermans” were very prominent as the front line consisted of “Fort Tadoussac” with myself in command, “City of Keeling” Capt. L. E. Smith, “City of Guildford” Capt. Collard, and “City of Evansville” Capt. Proven. The “City of Guildford” was the commodore ship. There were two or three ships in each column following astern of each of us. We were all loaded with the usual ammunition, bombs, petrol and war material and each ship had about 300 troops on deck. The first night at sea, when a strict black-out is very essential because on a clear night even a lighted cigarette can be seen a mile, I had to continually complain about lights from cigarettes etc. The Army Officers and N.C.O’s did their best to control this. The second night there was still the odd light to be seen so I had to have the Colonel-in-Command on the bridge and read the riot act to him about endangering the whole convoy. The next day was fine with a calm sea and bright sunlight and at about 5.00 p.m. I was on the bridge talking to my Chief Officer when without any warning of contact or sighting by the naval escorts, there was a colossal explosion. The “City of Guildford” was torpedoed and in five seconds was completely enveloped in flames and thick smoke and debris falling out of the sky. The ship had just disintegrated and the sea was on fire. We and the other ships had to put our helms hard-over to escape the conflagration. Of the 300 troops and approximately 100 crew, less than one dozen were saved. They had been blown overboard by the explosion and a very brave and daring destroyer picked them up out of the blazing oil and smoke. It was a sad sight to see the loss of nearly 400 people at one moment, some of whom were my friends because Captain Collard and other officer friends were all lost. There was no trouble with the black-out that night as the troops also saw the loss of 300 of their comrades.

After we left the beaches of Sicily, I was ordered to Melilla in Spanish Morocco, to load a full cargo of iron ore for the UK. I sailed independently and arrived safely. We berthed alongside in the harbour ready to load but no work started. We enquired what the delay was and we got all sorts of excuses. The next day there was still no loading. A representative of the British Consulate was my only contact and he informed me that unfortunately, the Iron Ore Company were purposely trying to delay the ship, or at least someone in authority was. Evidently a number of German Agents had influence over the Moroccans and they would be advising the German Command that we were in the port in the hope that they could contact a submarine in order to sink us when we sailed. I could not use my wireless or send any signal by other means. My only contact was the representative of the British Consulate. I told him in strict confidence, that I would sail that night without the cargo, and that he was not to advise anyone, not even the Customs, Harbour Master or Pilots, and he agreed. There were armed guards in the harbour and during the afternoon, as if we were just tending our moorings, we altered them and made them all slip ropes and wires. At midnight we had steam up and were all ready, so we quietly let go the slip ropes and without any navigation lights etc., steamed from the berth and headed out of the harbour. By that time, it was too late for the Harbour Master, Pilots or Customs, or even the guards to do anything. We went full speed and by daylight were in sight of Gibraltar and we never saw a thing.

On arrival at Gibraltar a convoy was sailing for UK. We took just an hour or so topping up with fresh water and stores and we soon caught up with the convoy. We arrived safe and sound after being away for about sixteen months. I parted from the “Fort Tadoussac” and went on leave. I have never seen her again.

After having some leave I was told that I was to proceed to USA to take command of a “Liberty Ship”. These ships were in full production and were being built by the Americans like sausages out of a machine and they were all built for white crews. I proceeded to the Clyde to join a ship which had just a number and no name. When I got to Gourock there she was at anchor and it was the “Queen Elizabeth”. Hundreds of us boarded by tender and we were a mixture of British and Americans. She was on the Atlantic run bringing American troops to Britain, 16,000 a trip in the winter months and nearly 20,000 in the summer. On the return trip to USA she carried a mixture of British and Americans. We were part of that mixture of about 5,000. There were quite a few of us belonging to the major shipping companies. Besides myself there was Capt. Freeman from “Ellermans” and other Captains from P & O Royal Mail etc, and we all had on board a full compliment of Officers and crews for each Liberty ship. All the “Queen Elizabeth’s” open decks were boarded up and once we were aboard we could not see daylight as access to all open decks was forbidden.

I have never forgotten the following incidents:- After we had our dinner that first evening, there were about seven or eight of we British Captains sitting in the huge lounge having a drink; I might add that they were soft drinks as alcohol was forbidden on ships carrying American troops and we had to abide by that regulation, and we were taking little bets among ourselves as to when we would sail. This was about 10.00 p.m. and we went to bed. We found out the next morning that we had sailed at 6.00 p.m., four hours before our discussion. She slipped down the Clyde so smoothly that even we had not realised it. She was a wonderful ship and always sailed independently without any type of escort relying on her speed to keep out of danger. After a couple of days we were allowed on the open deck during daylight.

She had many guns and a large number of defence personnel. The Q.E’s Captain asked for some of we other Captains to take duty in charge of all Merchant Navy personnel on board for one day each. I was one who did a day, and the day before we docked in New York the Captain invited us up on the bridge to have a look around etc. I was on the bridge when she reduced speed to 31 knots. Hard to believe but true, as he advised me we were slightly ahead of our position, as ordered by the Admiralty, so that they always knew exactly where she was.

When we docked in New York we were put into hotels. Capt. Freeman and I were in the Belmont Plaza and our Officers and crews in other appropriate hotels. We had to keep tabs on all our personnel and were responsible for them. After about a week some of my crew asked me if they could take temporary jobs as they were fed up going around the cinemas and sightseeing and it was costing them all their wages and more. I gave them permission provided I always knew just where to contact them if they were urgently required. There were thousands of jobs vacant in New York but nobody to fill them as production of everything was at a premium. Next the Officers came to me with the same request as time was hanging on their hands, as the saying goes, and also they found expenses high, consequently I gave them permission. Finally Capt. Freeman and I had the same problem after a month just killing time although we were living in the lap of luxury. He had a friend who was a buyer in Franklin Simons, a large 5th Avenue Store, who was approached and we both got jobs as salesmen. We had two days training concerning the various types of stock and the money side of the business for making out accounts because they had a complicated system of sales tax. After we became proficient we were put in the gentlemen’s outfitting department. We made quite a name for ourselves for our polite manner because the American staff were quite off-hand and in some cases even rude. It was not December and the Christmas shopping rush was on and when customers heard our English accent we were in great demand for buying advice. Of course instead of finding time very expensive we were now getting an extra salary. We quite enjoyed the experience.

On Christmas Eve we were all sent down to Baltimore and put into hotels there and on Boxing Day early in the morning my ship went on her trial trip. She was called “Frederick Banting” after the developer of insulin. About three hundred workmen from the shipyard went on the trial trip with us still fitting out the accommodation and painting same also stowing all the stores and equipment. The trials were satisfactory and we took over the ship early the next morning on returning from sea. She was built in thirty-one days which was of course an unknown thing in the U.K. for a small ship never mind a 10,000 ton ship.

We sailed from New York at the beginning of January 1944, once again with a full military cargo for the Mediterranean. We picked up a convoy from Halifax N.S. and proceeded to Algiers which had now been captured. During discharge we had several heavy air-raids but suffered no serious damage. We then sailed back again to New York for a further similar cargo for the Mediterranean. By this time the Armies were well established in Sicily and the Italian campaign was progressing. I was Commodore of several convoys sailing from our bases up the East Coast of Italy to Brindisi, Bari and finally up as far as Ancona. These were small convoys of about six ships advancing up the coast just behind the Army and keeping their supplies going. It was arduous work with a large part of the voyages at night in a half-mile wide swept channel and no lighthouses or other navigation marks for fixing positions. In places the Greek and Albanian coasts were visible and of course they were occupied by the Germans. We had many scares and incidents but we survived.

In November 1944 I was ordered to leave the Mediterranean and proceed to Nigeria to load for the U.K. I called at Lagos for my final loading itinerary and found I had to sail to Burutu which was up a river that was part of the delta of the River Niger. There was a sandy bar at the entrance to the river which had only a depth of 15 feet of water at high tide and no pilots. My ship was empty and her draught was as far as I can remember about 9’0” Forward and 17’0” Aft, consequently, I had to trim her to get over the bar which meant pumping oil fuel and water from aft to forward and discharging all surplus water to get her on an even keel and less than 15’0” to cross the bar. We managed this and proceeded up river to Burutu where a native pilot did board to assist us berthing. Now we had to load 1,250 tons of cargo and sail back again still under 15/0” draught to return again over the sandy bar. This meant most of the cargo stowed forward and more water pumped out. However, this was accomplished and we crossed the bar safely. From there we proceeded to Port Harcourt and Calabar but these ports could take deeper ships. We then sailed to Lagos to complete loading a full cargo. When there, I found out that several Masters who were in the West African trade had refused to make the Burutu call in a ship of our size.

While up the River Niger our local agent had intimated that there were a Mother Superior and a Sister who for months had been trying to leave the area very urgently and proceed to U.K. The agent wanted to know if I would take them as nobody else would and there were very few opportunities. I had to refuse because without Government permission we could not carry passengers in the danger zone. Later a Bishop came down on board and pleaded with me to help them as their plight was urgent. Finally I gave way and accepted them but as it was unofficial I could not charge them any fares so they travelled free. They were very nice and no trouble and when they left the ship the Mother Superior was so grateful she gave me a table-centre-piece which she had embroidered herself. When we finally sailed from Lago for U.K. we hoped to arrive home in time for Christmas, so I bought a big turkey and other fare hoping we would make it. We arrived in Hull a few days before the holiday and I managed to get my victuals home safely and in time.

I left the “Frederick Banting” in Hull. I have often read in the Press a lot of criticism of the “Liberty” ships because so many of them had broken in two in heavy weather in the Atlantic with heavy loss of life. I commanded her for a year and had many Atlantic storms, both loaded and in ballast, and had nothing but praise for her performance. During the war “Ellermans” managed about a dozen of them and they were so satisfactory that when the war ended we bought every one of them and had no serious trouble at all. We bought them so cheap that you might say “Just for a song”. I had a lot to do with them as Superintendent and, if I remember correctly, the price was £147,000 per ship, less the cost of known damages. “Ellermans” must have made millions of pounds from them for such a small outlay and then later we sold them. It is my considered opinion that those lost in the Atlantic was due to bad loading by inexperienced Captains and Officers, (mostly American and foreign) thereby causing straining, fractures of shell plating and decks and finally a broken back. The “Frederick Banting” was a good ship and served me well especially in those convoys up the Italian coast when very accurate navigation was imperative in a narrow swept channel. With a good helmsman she was the best steering ship I have ever sailed on that did not have an auto steering pilot. This was no doubt mostly due to her contra-guide rudder. After we bought her she was renamed “City of St Albans”.

At the beginning of 1945 the Allied Armies were advancing into France and Belgium after the successful landings in Normandy. Once again, it was a problem of keeping them supplied and I was sent to Tilbury Dock to work with our local cargo Superintendent. Our job was to load ships with tanks, guns, motor transport, ammunition etc. Other Companies were also on the job and we had to sail a convoy every evening so that they made the Channel crossing to Dunkirk, Antwerp and other Ports during the hours of darkness. This was continued for some months and on “V.E. Day” I got orders to leave and proceed to Liverpool where I joined the Canadian Pacific liner “Duchess of Bedford” as a passenger with a full complement of Officers and crew bound for Montreal. On arrival, we were all put into hotels. I had to supervise the completion of the building of a new ship the “Fort Sandusky” at the Canadian Vickers Shipyard.

She was a Royal Fleet Auxiliary Naval Store Ship designed to carry and supply any possible piece of equipment that any warship might require. She was really an enormous store, factory and machine workshop. Besides my crew she carried a large number of Royal Naval Officers, Petty Officers and Ratings, whose job it was to look after the stores. After a successful trial trip we sailed for the U.K. expecting to store up at Devonport dockyard and proceed to the Japanese area but the very day we arrived in U.K. was “V.J. Day”. The two atom bombs dropped on Japan ended the hostilities. After a couple of weeks I was relieved of my command and “Ellermans” brought me ashore permanently to join the Marine Superintendents Dept, as Assistant Marine Superintendent. Thus my sea career finished.

From 1945 to 1965 I held the positions of Assistant Marine Superintendent, Marine Superintendent, Chief Marine Superintendent and finally Marine Manager. Although I was not an active sailor any longer, I was still employed looking after the “Ellerman” fleet ships for maintenance, repairs, dry docking and controlling the sea personnel and stores. I was often on ships for trial trips or when a ship got into trouble such as collision damage etc, I would proceed to her and supervise repairs etc. I had mostly a desk job and turned into a committee man.

Writing these pages has revitalised my memory and I can now recall other items, some humorous, some tragic, but its too late to start revision now. As I said at the beginning I had no diary or notes or even dates to help me except one extract from a book. At the age of 84 I now feel I should have written this twenty years ago when I retired and my memory was fresher but nevertheless I have at least written these pages before unforeseen circumstances have intervened to prevent any writing at all.

J. F. W. Mitchell

July 1984
A FEW AFTERTHOUGHTS

The recent war in the Falkland Islands reminded me of some of my visits to Argentina in the years 1922 — 1923. Buenos Aires as a wonderful city of wide venues and beautiful squares but I was shocked by the behaviour of the police and army. One example was when I was walking down a main street mounted police or soldiers came galloping along with drawn sabres and hitting people with the flat of the blades for apparently no reason at all. Another example being we had a young engineer officer on the ship who was a very quiet young man and well behaved in all respects. He was sightseeing in Buenos Aires and sat down at a table in one of the Boulevard Café’s entirely alone when suddenly the police arrived and arrested everybody in the place. He was put in a filthy cell overnight and we did not know what had happened to him. The Captain made enquiries the next day and approached the British Consul about getting him released. The Consul said it might be days before he was released and it was better to pay an imposed fine to get the engineer back as arrests and fines of this nature are very common to help the exchequer of the country.

When leaving the River Plate in tramp ships it was common practice to fill up the fresh water tanks with river water on the Chico Bank instead of buying fresh water in the docks and thereby saving money. The Chico Bank is where the river water enters the South Atlantic Ocean. It’s no wonder we experienced plenty of sickness on board when one sighted what floated down the river.

I can also remember an incident years ago when I was fairly young Officer; we were docked in the Atlantic Basin area of Brooklyn N.Y. I am a very light sleeper and yet one morning when I woke up I found my cabin had been robbed. All my drawers and the wardrobe were open and clothing scattered about. My money, watch and other valuables all missing. I could not understand this happening and not waking up. Then it was found that the other Officers cabin were in the same state. The police were called and they stated that it was quite common for thieves to squirt liquid substances through the keyhole to knock us unconscious and the rob with impunity. I possessed a Belgian automatic gun so I decided that in future I would keep it loaded and sleep with it under my pillow at night. Two nights later I suddenly awoke hearing a tapping noise on the outside of the glass in my cabin porthole. I thought they have returned and seeing if I am wide enough awake to put a light on and investigate; so I remained in the dark, grabbed my gun and very quietly unscrewed the port, slowly opened it and then thrust the gun through the hole and was just going to pull the trigger when a face appeared right in front of me and a voice said “Mr Kate the gangway is jammed on the wharf can I have some men to clear it?” But for those few words I would have shot the night-watchman full in the face. My object of firing the automatic was to scare anyone off and also to raise the alarm.

I have already written about my first appointment as Chief Officer in the Company. The ship was the “Griqua” and she was a very happy ship with a good Captain and good Officers. That lasted for about eighteen months and then in 1927 Captain “X” was appointed to command and a new Second Officer Mr “Z” was also appointed. From then onwards things changed drastically. They were both addicted to the bottle. The Second Officer was about twice my age and had been Second Officer in the Company before I even went to sea as a Cadet.

We sailed from the UK to Gibraltar, Malta and Alexandria with general cargo most of which was government stores. After discharging in Gibraltar the Captain took to the bottle and I could not get any sense at all out of him. I took the ship to Malta as he was dead drunk. We discharged in about three days and I had to attend to all the business and correspondence saying that he was sick and signing all letters and documents in his name. We sailed from Malta and I set course for Alexandria. On the second day out the Captain staggered up on the bridge and started arguing about the course I was steering saying that it would not take us to Malta. He did not know that we had been there for three days and sailed again. There were several similar bouts by the Captain and also by the Second Officer in port.

We loaded a full cargo in various ports in the Eastern Mediterranean and sailed for the UK. When off south of Spain we received a wireless message to call at Malaga to load 250 tons of bullion for the UK. We docked in the evening and started loading the bullion which was all ingots of silver. I arranged the stowage in the special cargo locker and although there was a shore tally clerk, in view of the value I got a cargo locker stowage and Second Officer “Z” to be in charge of the whole operation. For a break the Chief Engineer and I went ashore to have a look at Malaga and I said I would be back in two hours. When I returned I could not find the Second Officer who was supposed to be in charge of the whole operation until I went to his cabin and found he was dead drunk and stretched out on the cabin floor quite senseless.

We finished loading at midnight and I had to arrange for the Third Officer to take the Second Officer’s watch on the bridge from midnight to four a.m. and then I would take over.

We finished loading at midnight and I had to arrange for the Third Officer to take the Second Officer’s station aft for unmooring and then to take the Second Officer’s watch on the bridge from midnight to four a.m. and then I would take over.

By noon the next day we were well clear of the Straits of Gibraltar and I went up to the Captain to report what had happened. He send for Second Officer “E” and reprimanded him very mildly and then said to him “I expect you would like a drink”. I left them in disgust. Now I was in a lost, unenviable position. If the ship got into any trouble such as stranding or a collision, I would get the blame for not reporting the Captain’s condition, yet if I reported him I would be the young Chief Officer reporting my Captain and very unpopular, perhaps even blackballed, by the whole of the personnel of the fleet. I was between the devil and the deep blue sea.

When we arrived in UK and the Marine Superintendent came on board I asked him to transfer me to another ship if the Captain and Second Officer were remaining in the “Griqua”. He asked me “why” and I said “You must discuss that with the Captain”, and I refused to enlarge on the statement. I had some leave and was then appointed to stand-by the building of our newest ship in West Hartlepool, the “City of Canberra”.

As an epilogue of the incident some time later I heard that Captain “X” was employed as a watchman in Liverpool Docks and Second Officer “Z” fell into the dock in Antwerp when he was drunk and drowned.

When I was on the “City of Pretoria” I was injured at sea and the Ships’ doctor strapped up the worst of my injuries, which were broken ribs. When we arrived in Egypt he wanted an X-ray to see if the ribs were healing alright so we went together up to the British Hospital and the X-rays confirmed that the ribs were healing but the Hospital Doctor was amazed at what he saw in the X-ray of my lungs. He said he had seen many X-rays of people dying of T.B. but never any as bad as mine and he asked about my health and was told that I was perfectly healthy but smoked a pipe day and night. He then said it would be advisable for me to give up smoking because my lungs needed decarbonising. I cut down to about half the amount of tobacco for a week or two but it did not last. After all, in wartime and under lots of stress, a smoke was very consoling. I did not finally give up smoking until 1947 when I was feeling some adverse effects and I have never had a smoke since.

October 1984

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