10-02-2018, 03:05 AM
4822
Re: Leisurely Scribbles (part 5)
Originally Posted by Sweetie pie
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Well, that changed the topic.My hubby was in the Merchant Navy now you have me all worried.
I will post tomorrow about the ships of the Union Castle line,
and how and what EDH is and AB Seaman.
EDH mmm Efficient something hand
Black Russian is something that sends me into a frenzy.
But, I too being a wine drinker, do like decent Brandy, apparently, it makes one ..................
What time is it with you Gummy Bear?
10-02-2018, 03:08 AM
4823
Re: Leisurely Scribbles (part 5)
Originally Posted by Sweetie pie
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10-02-2018, 03:16 AM
4824
Re: Leisurely Scribbles (part 5)
If you're still wondering,Sweetikins,EDH=Efficient Deck Hand.Actually,I served on several Union Castle ships - including the SA Oranje,which your hubby will know was the South African version of the MV Pendennis Castle. Of all the U/C ships I served on,I still remember the Tantallon Castle,which was originally a Liberty Vessel donated by they colonials,'joorin' the worr',with the greatest affection. It took a LOT of handling to operate the derricks & booms,plus all the hatches were 'tarp-and-wedge',so took a bit of securing for rough seas...yep - regardless of ANY sarcastic remarks now incoming,the four years I spent in the Merchant Navy,prior to joining 45 RMC,were bloody marvellous-my old schoolmates were all juniors in offices,or on apprentice wages for learning skills that computers very quickly did them out of,whilst I was travelling the world as a wide-eyed teenage boy...and getting paid for doing it! I later earned my 'Home Trade' skipper's ticket-and still hold it [1200-ton coasters,NOT 120,000-ton ocean goers]-but my ticket is for the UK/continental shelf only,NOT for heading out across the Pacific.
10-02-2018, 10:29 AM
4828
Re: Leisurely Scribbles (part 5)
UNCLE BOBMy late uncle, Robert John, known to all & sundry as “Bob” spent 52 years at sea.
Sunk 3 times in WW2 , survived & later served in Korea.
Bob ran away to sea aged just 14, I use that term “ran away” loosely because he was a little “snot” as granny used to say. I guess she knew him as well as anyone can & was probably pleased to have a spare bed, for she had 8 other kids to struggle with. All these mouths to feed, often with the addition of a lodger or two. That 2 up 2 down terraced slum, along with hundreds of others in this Port City were condemned in 1936 & demolished the same year. The horses, kept in the back garden went to knacker’s yard, poor things.
Uncle Bob was my fathers’ next up older brother. There were 3 brothers namely Joseph Edward, known as Ted, then Robert John, known as Bob, and lastly my dad William, known as Bill.
Bob was a clever man, but he wasn’t clever enough to keep the fortune that he earned during his lifetime, or rather, amassed from his mainly gambling activities. He joked in later life that 90% of his income had been lavished on cigarettes, whiskey & wild, wild women. The remainder he just squandered. Although he probably didn’t coin that phrase he was the living embodiment of it.
I have led a sheltered life & am still amazed at the number of times uncle Bob was entrusted to babysit young Robert. Having been named after him, I would like to think he regarded me as somewhat special. It was a long while before it twigged that the dogs & horses which he generously gave lots of his money towards their care & upkeep was in fact gambling.
He took me to the Greyhound Racing, the Football Ground, and the Races & once to the Speedway.
Unsurprisingly he lost me every time.
Bob tagged onto my dad when his brother Bill married my mum Olive. It was an odd arrangement, Bob was at sea most of the year & lodged with us when on leave. This went on until I was 5 or 6 years of age.Bob was sick on mum’s lino once too often & dad was given an ultimatum.
“Either he goes or I go”.
Bob went to stay with his older sister Amelia, known as Sylvia & a widow at quite an early age. Bob was completely undomesticated & relied on my aunt Sylvia for everything. Many years later when they were both in their eighties Sylvia died. Bob was bereft, lost all interest in life & took to his bed. He died 2 weeks after her.
10-02-2018, 10:53 AM
4829
Re: Leisurely Scribbles (part 5)
In keeping with this maritime theme, my peers may well be interested in my dad’s brother Bob, uncle Bob and the ships he sailed upon.I have mislaid his WW2 assignments but list below his Certificates of discharge.
1955-1967
ASTURIAS
EMPIRE ORWELL
GLASGOW
ALCANTARA
IVERNIA
WINCHESTER CASTLE
SOUTHERN CROSS
PRETORIA CASTLE
TRANSVAAL CASTLE
PENDENNIS CASTLE
FRANCONIA
S. A. VAAL
S.A. ORANJE
REINA DEL MAR
NORTHERN STAR
1968-1972
CASTLE LINES
REGENT
PECOS
1973-1975.
EDINBURGH CASTLE
DRAGON
After this date when 63 he seems to have retired, or more likely
no ship would take him on because of his Trade Union militancy.
10-02-2018, 11:35 AM
4830
Re: Leisurely Scribbles (part 5)
Originally Posted by Robert Jnr.
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UNCLE BOBMy late uncle, Robert John, known to all & sundry as “Bob”
Bob was a clever man, but he wasn’t clever enough to keep the fortune that he earned during his lifetime, or rather, amassed from his mainly gambling activities.
Reading through it strikes you how what good, solid down to earth dependable mens names they used to have. (Apart from your Bob that is but as he was a dependable gambler I suppose he was in a way)
Even reading of them years later you knew if they had had monikers like Bear, North, Ransom or such it would not have had the same sense of dependability.
The main reason your piece struck a chord was Bobs gambling. Many is the time I was sent on errands but two still stay with me.
First was for beer. You were given an enamel jug nearly as big as yourself and once filled was a right bugger to carry. Having skipped down a few back entries you hopped into a backyard and tapped on the door. An arm came out, a voice asked who sent you then if you gave the right answer the arm took your jug. You were given it back all heavy, frothy and reeking of hops. Once you had steadied yourself you were told to "make yourself scarce" So you did. Proof being non existent in home brew by the time you got home you were half squiffy from licking the slops of your arms
For the second errand you were entrusted with a scrap of paper with secret writing on it. It could be the back of a fag packet, bit of a letter , anything. You were also told 'if you see a copper don't stop at where you were supposed to stop' Heavy stuff for a nipper to handle. Where I was supposed to stop was our back street bookies window. You tapped on it, gave the name of who sent you, handed over the precious bit of paper and always a shilling. I either got change or not, mostly not and then told to "make yourself scarce"
Making myself scarce became a habit that I still adhere to today should the occasion arise.
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