Hullo Old Home

[captain kong]

Hi Brian.

I remember those Nannies in New York hanging about the Diner, Thats where the little park came in handy on a warm summers night In 1961/2 the cops on the pier wouldnt let anyone on board.
Transporting Stow aways was going on. On the Media and Parthia the lads who did it stowed them in the crows nest, the only place where the Master at Arms didnt go to. They were a pain in the ass, squashed up with us for the two hour watch up there, somertimes a little smelly, for seven days.
There was a firemens bathroom near the bottom of the mast we made them use that as often as we could. I have no idea what the going rate was or what kind of characters they were, some were indeed very shady.
I guess a lot of Liverpool criminals must have disapeared out of town that way and the same from New York.

[brian daley]

New York

All the images, film and photo, cannot prepare you for the reality of New York city . The size of the buildings ,the wide avenues full of block long cars, the constant sound of motor horns and the raucous yelling of vendors and hucksters, cops with big fat bellies and gunbelts, ladies who look like they?ve just stepped out of Vogue ;pizza parlours ,hash houses and hot dog stands .The sights and sounds ,all invigorating, create an electric atmosphere and a feeling of speed. This city lives on adrenalin.
Our first Monday was spent opening up the hatches and making the gear ready for the dockers, they were regular Cunard dockers and so unlike there Liverpudlian counterparts. They looked like extras in a movie. Nearly all of them wore hats or caps, panama?s and button topped caps. You could never mistake them for other than what they were ,waterfront men. In Liverpool ,caps were worn ,coated with years of oil and grease, old suits sufficed as working gear and ,again ,these were waterproofed by years of oil and grease. It was almost a uniform in Liverpool , the Yankee dockers wore proper gear, denims and colourful lumberjackets, leather working gloves . If you had walked around the Gladstone dock like that they would have marked you down as a poser. I can remember wearing aftershave for the very first time ,it was Mennem for Men . I put some on while we were in the Huskisson and caught the number 1 bus to town. It was full of homeward bound dockers and as soon as I sat down I heard the sound of sniffing. ?Some f*ck*ng tart must be on da bus, I can smell her f*ck*ng perfume? ?Smells like a bleedin? puff to me? ? More like a hooers handbag?
These ,and various other comments greeted my fragrant form, well it 1964!
But back to New York, I used to love hearing the banter between the longshoremen there , they insulted each other with great gusto and most of their comments were ,and are ,unprintable. Like our dockers ,they had wit and a ready come back for any situation.
When we were unloading one of the first item to be unshipped was a block long white Rolls Royce. It had white wall tyres and a roof mounted radio/telephone aerial; this was an object of real beauty and admiration and the dockers crowded around it to look inside. The interior was all white and it looked like a film stars boudoir,it was being delivered to Carrol Baker the star of Baby Doll. I felt proud to be British ,such was the praise the dockers lavished on that car ?You guy?s sure know how to build auto?s? They had obviously never seen a Reliant!

We were given shopping time ,unbelievable but true, I took Monday afternoon off and went with my watchmate Gerry and a kid from Ulster. We went sightseeing , 42 Street ,Times Square and 5th Avenue for starters. We went to Jack Dempseys Bar (he was?nt in)and the Peppermint Lounge. We were like the three sailors in ?On the Town?, necks strained from looking up to the tops of those concrete canyons. When we were in a little bar off Times Square the barman asked us where we were from, he had no problem with Liverpool but when our Ulsterman told him he was Irish and from some little town I have long since forgotten, barman scowled and said ? Yer not an Irishman, you?re a bloody Orangeman? Our colleagues face darkened and Gerry and I saw a hatred so palpable you could almost taste it. It was five years before we saw the raw hatred come spilling out onto the streets of Northern Ireland ,we had a very small taster of it there in New York.
Our shopping trip proved very successful, the shops on 5th Avenue were brilliant ,I got a new hat ,a chocolate brown panama with a matching silk band ,a cotton jacket in Black Watch tartan and a great pair of trousers. New York men?s shops sail trousers by waist size, all the legs are uncut, when you buy a pair ,they measure your inside leg and then ,and there, cut them to length and finish them off properly. I have since found that the Duke of Windsor had all his jackets and waist coats tailored in Saville Row ,but his trousers were tailored in New York.
One of the shops we visited was the Factory Outlet just up from the docks, this shop sold out of season clothes and the prices were so unbelievably cheap , all top quality brands too.
So ,loaded with packages we made our way back to the waterfront and had a few lotions in the Market Diner before going back onboard. The place was heaving when we got there, the Queen of Bermuda had docked and there were hordes of lads crowding around the bar, it was a fantastic place.
Attached to the bar was the Diner, built like an old railroad dining car ,this place sold the finest hamburgers on the planet. You passed through a turnstile when you entered it ,you were given a ?bus? ticket on which there were printed the meals and when you ordered your food ,the counter hand punched your ticket and when you left you handed the ticket to a cashier at the door and she charged you whatever. The fastest ,cleanest place I have ever eaten in.
We tumbled back aboard ,got some ale off the steward and retired to the recreation room to see the latest episode of The Fugitive on t.v. They were about a year ahead of the U.K. and we near the end of the series, and what a series that was ;would Richard Kimble ever find the one armed man?
The week seemed to whizz by, I got up town as much as I could, just loved the vibrancy of the place, the penny arcades and the dance halls, the cinemas and the theatres, and the neon lights, I was like a kid in a fairground. Just by Rose Land ,the famous dance hall ,lay a huge Penny Arcade, I went in there to get my kid sister a personalised sweatshirt ,on
which I had printed ?I Love The Beatles? ,she was only eleven.
At the back of the arcade was a ?Beat the Gunfighter? amusement. This had a life sized gunfighter standing at the back of the booth and it was animatronic, therer was a holster with an infra red colt 45 at the front of the booth and you paid 10 cents to take on the robot. Manxie stood at the booth,all teeth and smiles. He put his 10 cents in and pulled out the gun and started firing , the sounds of ricochets were ringing out over the arcade. Slowly the gunfighter removed his gun and pointed it at Manxie and fired. ?Ah gotcha stranger? it said and Manxie roared ?I f*ckin? shot you first yer bastid? Causing all and sundry to stare horrified at this hairy wildman. I near had a hernia laughing.

[pablo42]

Nice one Brian, brings back some memories.

[brian daley]

New York 2

The Saxonia was a conventional cargo boat, she was pre container ,all the cargo was loose stow and we were filling up fast for our return trip. This was in the days when we had a healthy balance of payments and the ship was being loaded with American goods.
The Vietnam war was underway and we were carrying of lot of military material which would be forwarded to the U.S. Army in Europe ,we also loaded steel plates for Britain’s Polaris submarine. Just as we were getting full to the brim a couple of U.S Army trucks came to the quay filled with PX stores. The dry goods were stowed in the holds but the frozen food could not be stored in the cargo fridge as it was full and the Quartermaster in charge of PX stores asked if they could store the goods in our cooks fridge. Does a donkey like carrots? Fred the cook nearly fell over himself in agreeing to have the frozen goods in his fridge. The stores could not be sealed off and
Fred could’nt wait until we sailed so that he could share this wonderful booty with the crew..

I could see why the lads liked the Yankee run, most of the single ones had a girl on either side of the Atlantic, there were plenty of good places to in both towns , and the food and clothes in New York were both cheap and of good quality. There were no tearful departures either, we were only ten days away from either port and so it never “goodbye” but “ see you in a fortnight”
We eventually completed our loading and made our way home. Gerry ,my watch mate, started to feel ill and was getting little red blisters on his stomach, they were about six inches in length across the navel and about four inches high.. He was very worried and went off to see the mate who diagnosed “shingles” . Old wives tales had that the shingles would form a belt around the body and, if the belt was completed , it could prove fatal to the sufferer. As each day passed the blisters expanded across his abdomen; I have never seen anyone so worried, he constantly sought assurances from the lads that the Old wives tales were bunkum
On the catering side of things we had a gourmet trip back across the pond.
The cook looted the PX stores and he would come into the mess at breakfast ,and ,as we fed on Yankee maple cured bacon, wursts and hash browns ,he would take our orders for lunch and evening meals We could either have what the officers were having, i.e. standard Cunard fare ,or something from the PX. Those meals consisted of 2 inch thick steaks and all the trimmings, big turkey breast’s ,like a Thanksgiving dinner. There were hamburgers from heaven and lots of cinnamon buns and cakes from Mr Pilsbury. We made hay while the sun shone and lived like fighting cocks all the way to Liverpool
That rash of Gerry’s kept growing and by the time we got back to home the belt was almost complete and Gerry was paid off ;I never found out how he got on ,whether he recovered or what. There were a few men who left for pastures new when we got home but I was so taken with the ship and New York that I was quite happy to sign up for another trip .
It was now mid June and I was keen to see my little lady from Kirkby, we had written to each other and our feelings seemed to be mutual; I had’nt told her yet of my entanglement with M and determined that I would tell her as soon as possible.
I saw her on my second night home and she had an itinerary for our week together. I was in her hands and had the most wonderful time , days collided into each other and our feelings deepened but I chickened out each time I tried to raise the subject.
It was nearing embarkation time and we were going to have our last night at a new club in the Liver Buildings, Lulu was advertised as the top of the bill ,her hit “Shout” had made number one in the hit parade and she was very popular.
We turned up for the opening only to find a notice on the door saying the city fathers had turned down the licence application and that we should make our way to the ferry where the Royal Iris was waiting to take us on a “Pop” cruise. It was a good night, and we were lucky to get on board, there were hundreds there and a lot of “suits” looking to book some of the acts. Lulu was very good and belted out her stuff like a veteran, such a big voice in a tiny frame. I can only remember one of the other groups ,they were called the Blackwells and were a little ahead of their time. They were like a Glam rock group, long haired, bleached blonde and full make up, they were the future; whatever became of them?
We went to the lounge bar and had a quiet drink ,well as quiet as it could be with a pop group down below blastng away at mega decibels. This would be a good time to tell her. I got our drinks and was looking for the right words when a crowd of kids piled in. Lulu was in their midst and her group ,the Luvvers formed a cordon around her .They were sat in the next booth and were surrounded by fans ,all wanting autographs. I felt a tap on my shoulder and turned to see who it was . I t was Lulu ,she asked me if I had a pen and I smiled and said “ I’m not giving autographs tonight “ She giggled and someone else handed her a biro. It was in the cab going home that I told my lady about being married. She cried and clung to me, “I’ll wait ,it is’nt forever” she whispered. Things got quite passionate as we travelled ,we shut out the world and embraced in way that we had’nt before. We were both losing control and by the time we got to her road we were so aroused that we could ‘nt wait to make love. There was nowhere to go and so we stood in the porch of her at the front of her house, the heavens seemed to swirl and our bodies were so febrile that I thought I would explode. Of a sudden her brothers voice called out behind us,” Are’nt yer goin’ in for supper?” It was like a bucket of cold water had been thrown over us and we regained our senses. It had been so close and I would have been a complete swine to have taken advantage of her. When I kissed her good bye that night it was goodbye forever. I was not going to mess her life up.

My leave over, I rejoined the Sax and was looking for a good time in New York. Richie Bradshaw had left ,as well as Norman and some others ,so there would be a few girls in need of boyfriends when we got to New York. . One of the new men was a guy called Chris Doyle, he was big blonde guy who you would want on your side if you were in trouble, another newbie was Sid, a tall ,slim Londoner with a wry sense of humour. So laid back he was almost horizontal.
As we cleared Liverpool and had finished our labours ,we crowded into my cabin for a can and a get to know you chat. I had some pictures on my shelf and some of the lads showed pictures of their girls and families too. Sid left the cabin and came back with some of his pictures, he handed them to me and I looked at the first one, it was of a beautiful lady, smiling full face to camera ,hands on her hips and legs slightly apart ,she was starkers and had’nt had a Brazilian. Something told me not to make a wise crack. “Beautiful girl Sid!” I said as he handed me another picture. “It’s the wife “ he said softly. The second photo was almost gynaecological. “ You must have a good camera “ I said . “I ain’t gorra camera, me mate took ‘em” There was a silence as we waited for the punchline………………..there was’nt one. Old Sid was a one off.
Chris Doyle was my watch mate this trip and we got along just great, it was his first time in New York and he was as excited as I was the trip before.
I had a spell at night watchman when, on the fourth night at Pier 51, it was almost steam heat in New York, there was no activity on the docks ,most of the lads were ashore and I had a thirst for a beer. I tipped the wink to the Yankee gangway man and snuck over to the Diner for a swift half. The place was crowded with the crews from the Cunarders and the Queen of Bermuda ;I could see Chris sitting at the back of the bar and went over to join him. I was in my working gear and looked rough, paint splashed T shirt and a pair of well faded Wranglers. I was smoking Navy Cut roll ups then and had taken my ‘baccy tin ashore with me. I used to put a tot of rum and a piece of orange peel in with the baccy, it heightened the taste and made it very aromatic. One glass led to another and pretty soon the night was full on us. I was standing there ,glass in hand when a little ”queen“ came up to me . “What ship are you off honey?” “she” asked. I pointed across to the Sax.
“A freighter!!? “ “she” exclaimed, “you’re much too gorgeous for a freighter!” With a wiggle of her hips “she” went back to rest of the queens from the Queen of Bermuda.
I was making another roll up when I noticed that we ,Chris and I, were being watched closely by two couples at the other side of the bar. They were staring intently as I rolled the makings and lit it with my Zippo. The girls came around to us and one of them asked if I was smoking pot. I nodded and she squealed “ Gee, can I have one?” so I made her a roll up and handed it to her, she was all giggly and her friend asked for one too. Their boyfriends sat across the bar looking daggers. I was getting drunk and the squealer was a looker, next thing she is close into me and asking where I was from ,when she heard the word “Liverpool” she almost had an orgasm. Many smokes later I told her I had to go back on board and took her around to her boyfriend .”Here’s your girls back pal “ I said as we made for the exit. One of them unwound himself from the chair and let loose with a mouthful at Chris. It was like watching a detonator being pushed ;Chris’s face hardened ,his eye’s mere slits “ Oo the hell are you talking too ?” Chris said ,his voice choked with suppressed rage. “ Yew, ya Limey bastid!!” bellowed the Yank in reply. “ Right !!” said Chris ,throwing a punch which landed right on the Yanks chin.
There is a little park just across from the Diner and the two of them raced across to it. Some lads off the Queen of Bermuda wanted to get stuck in on the Yank ,his friend looked lost, they were big lads and could have battered him. I said “Just let those two get on with it ,it’s one on one,no need for mob violence” There were a few mutterings and ,good enough, they stood outside the Diner and we watched Chris and his opponent do battle. The Yanks friend stood by me and quietly thanked me for stopping the lads joining in, I told him to hush up, I did’nt want the Southampton lads starting on me.
Both fighters were evenly matched as they fought on the steps to the park, the girlfriends seemed to be aroused as the punches slammed into each other, the Yanks girl was actually asking me if I would like to go skinny dipping while her boyfriend gave his everything. I suppose violence can act as an aphrodisiac to some girls; she was really turned on. The fighters were both landing haymakers and were beginning to stagger ;Chris smashed his fist into the side of the Yanks head and he went down as though he had poleaxed. As Chris walked back over to us, I told the Yanks friend to go and take his mate home before the other crowd got to him . The dust settled and we went back aboard the Sax’ Chris was smeared with blood ,most of it belonging to the Yank, we had a few beers and Chris went off to his bunk while I finished the night watch.

[pablo42]

Nice one Brian. Glad to hear you're out of hospital.

[brian daley]

New York 3
Two days before we sailed to Liverpool ,I went with Chris and Sid to the Diner, I had promised Gerry ,from the previous trip, that I would contact his sister who lived in Long Island, I forget what for ,but I remember making the call. The three of us were sat at the bar discussing the events of the previous evening , wondering if there would be any repercussions. I got up and went to the phone booth in the bar and got out the number Gerry had given me, I picked up the phone to dial when a young female voice said “Hello” I said “ Hi operator, can you put me through to Long Island……….” “I’m not an operator” I said “well ,whatever you are called over here can you put me through to Long Island……” “I’ve just told you I’m not an operator, can you get off the line!!” “ Listen luv ,don’t give me a hard time, if you are’nt an operator, you get off the line” She took umbrage at this and said that she had never been spoken to like that in her life. “Well it’s about time somebody did, now put the phone down” She spluttered something and I ended the call ,made my call to Long Island and went back to the bar. I had just started my next glass of beer when the barman said to me, “Go back to the booth, there’s a call for you”
I was puzzled, I did’nt know anyone in New York save for the girls I’d met and they would’nt know where I was at that moment. I went into the booth and picked up the phone .It was her, the non operator. “I cannot believe anyone could be so rude as you where, talking to a complete stranger like that. You are boorish and very bad mannered…” I was trying hard not to laugh. “Did you call just to say that, you must have more money than sense girl. What you need is a good slapped arse!!” There was a quick gasp at the other end. ”What did you just say?” “you heard luv, a spanking ,that’s what you’ve been missing” The lads were standing outside the booth, earholing our conversation. Sid gave the thumbs up at the spanking bit. All went quiet down the line and I was about to put the phone down and go back to the bar again when she spoke. “ Oh ,God! You,re so different from American men, I feel so mixed up.” This was interesting , I asked her why she had called the Diner and she said she was after a guy off the Saxonia. I told her that that was my ship and she told me she was a girl friend of Richie. I told her that he was no longer with us and she was sad, for about five seconds. One of the lads passed another glass of beer into the booth and our chat continued. She wanted to know about me, who I was and where I was from. I told her straight off that I was married and awaiting a divorce and that I was steering clear of any entanglements. She told me her name was Lisa and that she lived in Long Island and loved all things English. She had been with Richie for sometime and would like to meet another English boy.. I told her that there were plenty of them in New York and she might be better off looking elsewhere, I was trouble with a capital T.
Her voice softened and she asked me if I would listen to a song by Joan Baez, she was fairly new to the scene and had’nt made much impact in the UK yet. She played Plaisir D’amour and it went straight to that part of the heart that controls your emotions. I listened in total silence and ,as it finished ,she said “That was for you.” My mind was a jumble of emotions and I mumbled a thank you. I was in that booth for two hours, thank god I was’nt paying for the call. She asked if we could meet and I said no, someone was bound to get hurt and it would most probably be her. We said our goodbyes and I went back to the bar, we had some serious drinking to do and we did’nt leave the Diner until we were ushered out at closing time.
My sister Jess had asked me to get an American outfit for her son Graham and so I made a quick run up to the retail outlet and bought him a Yankee sailor suit; he looked sensational in it.

Back in Liverpool ,we worked by the Sax while she was in dock and one of the docker’s on her was Chris’s cousin, a great kid. We let him tag along on our drinking sessions . Night time would find us meeting up Yate’s on Lime Street, we would have a few large whites and then amble along to the American Bar and have a look at what was occurring there, we always drank halves while we were looking, did’nt want to spend too much time there if there was no life. We got to the Crown and bumped into Sid and his missus plus a few other girls (Chris was courting and was’nt playing the field) We had a few jars with Sid and his harem and his missus asked if we would like to meet up the next night and have a pub crawl, we agreed to meet at Yates’s the next night . We stayed with them until closing time and I got into a huddle with one of the harem. From the clinches we got into ,tomorrow looked very promising. I spent Sunday with the family, Jess and her hubby came up with the kids for Sunday dinner and we dressed young Graham in his Gob suit.
We took him up to see his Dad and Granddad at the Railway pub and everyone just flipped, he looked like he was out of a movie. (I did’nt usually go on midday drinking sessions if I was going to go out in the evening ,I knew my limit, but there were some in the family who thought I was bent.
Well we met up ,as promised, in the Wine Lodge .Chris had brought his girl friend, a nice catholic girl, this was a mistake. But then we did’nt know then what we were in for, the photographs Sid showed us should have warned us.
We did a tour around Lime Street ,down to Ma Egertons ,eventually landing up in the Wine Lodge opposite Blacklers. At closing time Sid invited us all back to their flat in Devonshire Road, one of those large late Victorian 4 storey houses. Sid had the flat at the top of the house and the rest of the flats were occupied by women who were either separated or divorced. Chris’s girl friend was made about as welcome as a pork sandwich in a mosque. The women hated her because she was straight and unmarried. I could see that both she and Chris were embarrassed but Sid was our mate and we made the best of things. Sids missus kept on trying to get Chris’s girl drunk ,without success. At length Sids missus left the room and came back clothed in a see through nightie. “C’mon, let’s get this party going “ she shouted, pulling Sid towards her . She unzipped his fly and pulled his todger out “’Ere yar girl “ she said waving Sids appendage at Chris’s girl “’Ow’d yer like a go at that” Chris and his girl made a hurried exit and I was taken down stairs by the lady I had stalled with the night before.
That night was the start of a week of Bacchannalia, we would work until about 4 in the afternoon and then catch the bus down to Toxteth, there we would get fed like fighting cocks, one of the inhabitants was an old lady called Josey, we gave her money and she would get the food in and cook it . It was the same everynight ,steak ,egg and chips but who was complaining. Chris was back with us, his girl friend had dumped after that first night, she thought we were all bound for hell, the lady I had enjoyed fancied Chris more and they ended up as a pair for the week .
When we turned up for our meal on the Thursday night there was no food waiting for us ,we looked at the girls and asked what the score was. “It’s Josey , she’s on strike“ “Yer wot!!” “Well” said Sids missus ,”everyone is ‘avin’ a bit ‘cept Josey. An’ she sez if she can’t ‘ave bit then yiz can get yer own dinners” We were thunderstruck, this toothless old woman wanted one of us to give her a portion, thing was ,who was going to give her one?
The four of us tried wheedling the girls to put the food on but they said they were showing solidarity with their sister, she only had a bit of nookie when the West Indian window cleaner was on his round and he had’nt been seen for two months. Sids missus said that we should draw straws ,the one with the shortest straw would do the job.
So, it was with great trepidation that we entered into the draw. Sids missus held out the staws and we each picked one . I near had a seizure when I saw that I had drawn the short straw. I got up to leave and the three others barred my way, I told them there was no way I could do it “She’s bloody toothless, my grandma is’nt that old. “ Sid’s missus shouted to Josey to put some make up on and to put her teeth in.
Like a lamb to the slaughter, I was led to Josey’s bedroom. At least she had taken off her wrap around pinny !
I literally closed my eyes and thought of the steak and chips that would follow this deed, I could feel her getting passionate and she cried out “Why me, of all the girls ,why did you pick me?“ “ Because I lost the bloody draw,that’s why Josey!”

Our dinner that night was splendidly cooked and we went down to Speke to meet some of Sids Missus’s family and friends in the pub by the bus terminus in Eastern Avenue.
They were a real bunch of cut throats, nearly everyone of them had served time for GBH and one of them had been in the same class as me at school. It was like dining with tigers, you knew that sooner or later one of them would take a bite out of you. Conversation was very stilted, we four had nothing in common with these guys,one of them had a face on him like Crewe Junction ,the scar like tracks ran all over. Sid’s missus’s brother turned out to be a well; known Garston mobster and he kept giving me the hard stare. I heard someone whisper “ E’s gonna do the bleeder in the green shirt” and I looked across the table at Chris, he had a green sports shirt on. I tried to catch his eye to warn him, but all I was doing was getting the glare from the mobster. I had to go for a pee and, when I was passing a wall mirror, saw that I was wearing a bright emerald green shirt. So that was the reason for the hard stare!
I hurried into the W.C. and made a quick exit through the toilet window, there a bus at the stop and I legged it to it and made my way upstairs. The bell rang and the bus started off, it went around the roundabout and stopped the other side, right next door to the pub! . I was spotted and the gang piled aboard , up stairs they came and settled a couple of seats away, some of them had flick knives and others brass knuckle dusters. There was one other passenger upstairs, were they waiting for him to get off? They were openly discussing what they were going to do with me. Me ? I was just about holding myself together, stomach was giving me grief ,but at least I did’nt cry!
The kid I went to school with was sitting nearest to me and I vainly tried to open a conversation with him ;I asked where he was working ,no answer, “hows your kid?” His brother was in a variety show; no answer. He turned and looked at me “ You’ve been ‘avin’ it off with Johnny’s wife” he said “ You’re dead meat Brian”
The other passenger ,hearing some of this conversation interjected “Hey you guys, it’s not British,all you wanting to fight him” He was an American ;they all started arguing with him and I jumped up and made a fast exit by Bryant and Mays. I fled across to the tenements and made my way through to the dump and then to the Horrocks Avenue estate. I caught the 86 bus into town and made my way home. That was my last night with the ladies from Devonshire Road. We’d be back in New York soon.

Below you can see the Saxonia and my nephew and niece in their Yankee sailor outfits

[pablo42]

Nice one Brian.

[M6AJJ]

Excellent Brian, really enjoyed that, best so far!

Tony

[Billy D]

thumbs up Brian

Which side of the family were the nephew and niece

Bill,,,,,,,,,,,

[brian daley]

Hi Bill, Jeanette and Graham were jessies children;Jeanette turned 50 last September,how time flies,
BrianD

[brian daley]

New York 4

I964 was a time when great changes seemed to be happening, we had a decrepit Conservative government and several scandals served to turn people against the Tories.
Like most seaman I was vaguely aware of politics but some scandals seemed so great as to be unavoidable no matter where you looked..The biggest, began to unfold itself during the prosecution of a black man named Lucky Gordon, the public, ever fond of scandals ,were amazed when the prosecution of a pimp began to ensnare politicians, diplomats and prostitutes. Television had a field day and a programme that was very popular ,That was the Week that was, had such biting satirical sketches about the affair that the then prime minister ,Alec Douglas Home, had the programme closed down.
It was a political miscalculation of enormous proportions. We spoke of little else in the mess room ,from a purely salacious aspect of course. Mandy Rice Davies and Christine Keeler were very fanciable to most sailors.
However ,back to things mundane, one of the greatest changes in the early sixties was the beginning of pirate radio. Those of us up in Merseyside could receive broadcasts from Radio Caroline ,which was based in the Irish Sea. It was the closest thing we had to American pop music radio. There were no land based commercial radio station in Britain back then. The Musicians Union had a deal with the BBC that only so many records a week could be played and most of the new songs coming over from the States were covered by live bands and orchestras. Seems bizarre now ,but you had the like of the Billy Cotton Band Show featuring some of the great hits of the day by stars like Sinatra ,Como , the Platters ,Everly Brothers et al. Vocals were done by a wheezy old guy called Alan Breeze and a Scots lady called Kathy Kaye. Request programmes like Housewives Choice and Two Way Family Favourites were very popular because they played records ,but very rarely did they play rock and roll. Until Caroline , people interested in good solid sounds had to tune in to Radio Luxembourg, which started in the evening but was very bad for reception. You needed a letter from God to get a request played on the air back then, along came Caroline.
Chris and I thought we would get a request played for the girls at Devonshire Road, they had the stationed permanently tuned to Caroline. We knew a sure fire of getting that request.
When we got back to New York ,I bought a big postcard of the Statue of Liberty and posted off our request which we couched in the following way, ”Hi Baby Bob(he was one of Carolines American DeeJays) I was cruising around the dial of my radio the other night and heard you show. I could’nt believe when I heard where you were broadcasting from. You sounded almost like the real McCoy. So Bob if you ever get the chance I wonder if you could play a Four Seasons record for some pretty ladies who live in Devonshire Road in Liverpool; it would sure make their day, Regards from New York, Brian and his friend Chris.” That request got played……and played…and played.. I was listening to Caroline about 6 months later and I heard Baby Bob Stewart doing his spiel “ You are listening to Radio Caroline ,Broadcasting to the entire empire ,and even the US of A…….” this would be followed by a replay of our request.

So here we are ,back at Pier 50 and enjoying the delights of the Big Apple; there was a swatch of mail waiting for me when we docked , the bulk of it from my phone friend Lisa. It took me most of Sunday afternoon to read them , she came across as a flower child in her writing, loved walking naked in the warm summer rain, around her garden I hasten to add, she liked Streisand, Nillson ,Dylan and English rock groups. Her writing was very descriptive and she wrote of her hopes and dreams for the future. Kennedy had not long been assassinated and he was still untarnished in the eyes of most young people ,she spoke of the sadness felt on the campuses across the whole of America. Vietnam had not yet become monstrous maw in which the lives of young people, Vietnamese and American, would be so tragically ended. The buds of flower power were burgeoning though we had not yet heard that name.
She phoned me every lunch hour ,regular as clockwork, she would ask if we could meet and I would gently steer the conversation away from that subject. I had a Scots lassie who I was seeing of a night time, she was lovely and it looked like we might get close this time.
Money was a problem when you are burning the candle at both ends ; one way of making up the shortfall was to sell your blood. British blood could be sold at the major hospitals for ten dollars a pint . Four of us went up one afternoon, Chris, a big loon Joe ,Johnny Moore? And me. You have to have a blood test before the take your blood, this consisted of *****ing your thumb and squeezing a drop into a glass of clear liquid , if it sank to the bottom you were O.K.
The other donors that sat in the waiting room were the type you see on park benches of a morning, sipping meths or cider from gallon bottle. One little walnut of a lady was being given her ten bucks and the nurse said to her “ Here’yah Mary, get yourself down to the liquor store.
We four were laid in a row and I was surprised that Chris had a funny turn when they shoved the tube into his arm. No ten bucks for him. Joe ,who had quite a few drinks before hand, started larking about and waving his hands like windmills, the tube came out of his arm and he was covered in blood. They got the tube back in and our bloodletting was soon complete. Joe looked like he had been the victim of an axe attack ,but he was’nt bothered , we walked back to the Diner and nobody gave him a second look. They see axe murders everyday in New York. We went into the dining car and ordered a huge burger and fries each ,forget Mcdonalds , I’m talking hamburgers here, dinner plate sized buns filled with beautifully grilled meat. You took a ticket when you entered ,ordered your meal and the counter hand punched your ticket ,which you gave to the clerk at the tirnstile when you left. Chris ,Johnny and I finished before Joe and made our way out, telling the clerk that Joe was paying the bill. We stood on the pavement outside trying to contain our laughter as the very bloodstained Joe tried to explain his lack of capital . “ Where’s the dishes mate?” he asked the chef “ Feck orf ya Limey Bum “ came the swift reply. Joe took it in good part ,he was too drunk to comprehend what was happening .
I went ashore with one of the Senior Ordinary seamen that night, Cliff was his name .We both had dates with girls who were flatmates, one was my Scots lassie and Clifs was from Scotland too. Little Plum ,our deck boy ,tagged along with us despite all our attempts to tell him to go back aboard; he was hoping to get lucky. We met the girls at the Diner and they invited us back to their flat so that we could have some drinks on the roof, Little Plum got himself invited too ,much to Cliffs and my displeasure; the girls thought he was cute ,but we knew otherwise.
It was quite a small apartment, bedsit plus kitchen and bathroom. I went to the lavatory and found it to be very unladylike,the pedestal was choked with great big “havanas”.
The girls were very embarrassed and said that they had been waiting for the landlord to get it fixed. “I’ll fix it” announced Little Plum and went to assess the problem. The toilet had a screw plate on the back of the pedestal and Little Plum reckoned he could get the plate off and clear the blockage. Cliff and I left him to it, there was no way he could fix it ;or so we thought.
We could hear him grunting and groaning as he worked on that screw plate ,and then there was an almighty scream. The plate had come off and Plum got covered in the contents of the blockage. It was all over his head and shoulders and he stunk to high heaven. We told him to go back aboard and get washed off,he needed fresh everything and the girls only had ladies clothes. He made his way back to the waterfront in complete safety, not even the most desperate mugger would go nearer than 5 yards of him.
The four of us got stuck in with mops and cloths and soon had the bathroom looking like it should.We got up on the roof and had a few cold beers while we sat looking at the New York skyline at night , it was very romantic and our thoughts turned to matters carnal.
The four of us were nicely warmed up and were waiting for a way to start making love ,but there was only one double bed. It seemed awkward, we all wanted to , but we could’nt make the first move. Cliff got up and excused himself and went to the bathroom. Moments later he appeared in one of the girls baby doll nightdreses” C’mon get honey “ he called and the rest of us ripped off our clothes and paired off. As Johnny Ray put “It was a night, oh what a night it was ,it really was such a night…..”
We made love until sleep wrapped its arms around us and we descended into dreamland. I awoke ,fully aroused , fitting snugly between two pillow like buttocks, the wispy baby doll nightdress adding to the frisson ,And then I saw the shaved nape and the hairy back. I was snuggling up to Cliff because he still had the nightdress on. He stirred as I withdrew backwards, slowly ,very gingerly ;this was the stuff of nightmares. I liked him , but not that much. Just as I had separated from him he came fully awake.
His scream must have been heard in Hoboken. The girls were in hysterics and we made them promise not to tell a soul; all the way back to the ship, and indeed, all the way home, Cliff made me swear that I would never tell a soul; and I did’nt ,until now!

I had some time off for shopping on Thursday, I wanted to go up to 5th Avenue and get some clothes and so arranged to meet Chris in the Diner about eight that night. I had a good shopping expedition, even saw an attempted armed robbery in Howards mens store , three black kids tried to do a stick up and were outsmarted by the store detectives, they were armed and the kids surrended meekly.
I got to the diner about 7.30 and the p[lace was heaving ,the Queen of Bermuda had docked and a lot her crew were at the bar.Also at the bar was the guy Chris had given a beating on the last trip. He was sitting with about a dozen friends and they were tooled up for a fight, he obviously thought we were off the Queen of Bermuda! I was wearing my Brooks Bros suit and my panama and so was’nt recognised, I finished my drink and hurried across to the Sax. Chris was just putting his tie on when I got there;when I finished telling him what I had just seen he put his t-shirt and jeans on and we stayed aboard and caught up with the exploits of the Fugitive on t.v.
As the time neared for sailing I started to develop some kind of growth beneath my jawbone, I thought it was an abcess at first; as we crossed over the pond the lump grew to such proportions that Chris said it looked like I was growing another head. Whatever it was ,it meant my having to leave the Sax when we got back, I really did’nt want to do that.

[Ron Ham]

You did say it was on your jawbone Brian ? Had me worried for a minute . Ron

[brian daley]

Liverpool

By the time we got back across the pond that lump on my neck had grown to worrying proportions. As soon as we were tied up and finished on deck the captain paid me off and got me a cab to Stanley Road hospital. The doctor who examined me told me it was a cyst gone bad and that he would do the business first thing next morning ; meanwhile I was to go home and have nothing to eat or drink after midnight and be back there for 9 in the morning.
Hungry and thirsty, I presented myself next morning for the tender ministrations of the medical staff. They were brilliant, needle in the back of my wrist,count to ten and I was off to some black void.
I awaked to find that my head was swathed in bandages and I looked like I had been in a very bad accident. The doctor assured me that all was well and that I would be down to just a plaster dressing within a few days.
I caught the bus to town ,getting sympathetic looks from people who thought I must be worse than I looked. My main aim was to get me some lunch, a special lunch, one in a fairly good restaurant. I settled on the Captains Table ,which was by Horne Bros., I’d eaten there before and not been disappointed.
A nice sirloin steak,cooked medium rare with mushrooms,egg and French fries,that should fill the gap.
It was lunchtime when I got there and the place was filling up with ladies,blue rinsed and bespectacled, this was the lunchtime ladies favourite rendezvous.
I heard a few sympathetic tut tuts as I made my way to a table and a young waitress soon appeared and took my order. I emphasised that the steak be medium rare.
About half an hour later I was presented with a plate of burnt offerings;the steak looked like a lump of coke and the egg was solid,mushrooms looked like they had died of old age and the French fries were shrivelled.
I was outraged, and I was hungry! I skewered the burnt lump of steak on my fork and started banging it on my plate,nearly everyone turned to see what the commotion was. I called out “Fetch the manager!!” and a matronly figure came hotfoot across the restaurant. Before she could open her mouth ,I asked her if her chef was familiar with the words" medium rare". Eyeing the lump at the end of my fork she blushed; I pointed to the trimmings. “and these look as though they are exhibits from a museum Madam, if I do not get that which I asked for ,let me assure you that the matter will not rest here” She apologised profusely and asked me to wait while she attended to the matter. Half an hour later I was served the most delicious meal and she waived the bill.
It sometimes pays to complain.
My New York pen pal had sent me a load of letters since we left the States, I enjoyed reading them ,she was a very descriptive writer and she had a nice handwriting style too. So,while I was stuck indoors I sent her some replies, always keeping things on a conversational level.

Chris’s sister was getting married while the Sax was in and I was given an invite.
I love weddings and this was going to a rather special one because she was the first of the sixteen children to be wed. I thought Chris was joking when he told me he had fifteen brothers and sisters, but they were lovely. His dad was a docker and his mum had a part time job and they were one of the happiest families it had been my privilege to meet. I think there were more boys than girls, and his mum and dad seemed like a couple of lovebirds. That week at their house was busy with everyone getting ready for the big day.
They were having the reception at the Co op hall in Lodge Lane,that very same room that I rehearsed my dance steps so many years before.
I was hoping that there would be some nice single girls that I might get a chance to get off with. One of the bridesmaids was absolutely lovely and I really fancied her,but she only had eyes for Chris and he was totally smitten with her. They were married somewhile later and I last heard of him when they had a house of their own and a baby too! But that was in the future.
As is traditional in Liverpool ,as soon as the wedding breakfast was finished ,the men retired to the nearest pub while the women cleared up and made the room ready for a hooley.
We filtered back in about an hour and a half later and the dancing began, there were hardly any single girls there and I was having to dance with aunties and cousins. Around about 10 o’clock a group of girls came up the stairs and I heard someone say “ God,I was hoping they would’nt come” I looked over and saw a rather classy woman in a fur coat,blonde and scarlet lipped with dark flashing eyes. I got the feeling that they knew they were’nt welcome because they did’nt come into the room,they just stood at the top of the stairs as though looking for someone. The blonde locked her eyes on me and waved for me to go to her. Chris whispered “She’s trouble mate,watch it”
I went over anyway. She asked my name and if I was with anyone and when I answered she said “Come downstairs a minute” She had animal appeal,almost predatory ,and I was willing prey. She took me outside and into an alleyway at the back of the hall. She leaned against the wall and pulled me to her, no words were exchanged, our mouths locked together and I felt this amazing energy coming from her. To call it lovemaking would not convey what happened, I felt like I had been hit by a ten ton truck and I loved it.
She snatched my tie off me and told me to go back inside,giving me her address ,she said “You’ll get your tie back when you come and fetch it tomorrow.
Still dazed from our encounter ,I went back upstairs and rejoined the festivities.
Pretty soon it was time for jars out and we piled into taxis and headed back to Chris’s. When it t was time to crash I was put in with two of the younger brother on a put-u-up.
Next morning there was the hurly burly of first up and best dressed,no standing on ceremony there, whilst they all trooped off to mass I caught the bus home to Kirkby………………………….I had to get my tie back that night!

[pablo42]

Nice one Brian.

[M6AJJ]

Can't wait now, fancy stopping there. Come on Brian we've just gotta know how "you got" on getting your tie back.