Acclivity
I count myself very lucky to have been the first seaman to be signed aboard this tiny little ship. She had power on, the cabins were finished but ,she still had quite a bit of equipment to be fitted and she had non stick-tanks in which there were heating coils. Everyone but me was a dockyard employee. The galley had all mod cons but there was no food in the fridges nor milk tea sugar or coffee.
I made way ashore to find the local supermarket and got a few days stores in; surely they would be sending more crew up soon ?
I was not a cook, oh, I’d cooked meat when I was at the butchers back in the ‘50’s but I’d never tackled proper meals ,meat and three veg etc. Well the one thing I had was time. There was absolutely nothing I could do in the way of deck work. The shore boss told me to keep well out of the way, expressing surprise that they had sent me up from London. I’d never been this far up the river before ,and found Goole to be a very busy little port ,Selby was quite near and so I spent a bit of time getting to know the places. The main thing I remember ,is how friendly everyone was.I never met a disagreeable person the whole time I was there. There was one sad occasion ,just opposite the shipyard was a coal shute where the colliers where loaded. It was a real Heath Robinson affair, the coal trucks were lifted off the rails by an antique affair, it enclosed the truck and lifted it into the air ,where it turned it upside down so that its contents were dropped into the hatch below. On this day ,one of the dockers was still on truck when the operation took place. He fell and was crushed by the trucks load, I kept hearing his scream for months afterward.
At the end of my first week in Goole I thought I would go and see if I could get a date with someone, it was’nt like home . There was a very macho atmosphere, there were no single girls to be seen, and I never found a dance hall. I’d put my summer outfit on, it looked a bit out of place in Goole, a lovely cotton jacket with a cream background to a two tone window pane pattern ,Sea Island cotton pants and a peach coloured shirt with a matching silk tie and hankie. I felt a bit overdressed at the bar of the docker’s club but, they served a very decent pint. As I was supping this chap came up to me ,he was about my age and was very soberly dressed. “ Ey mate, my mates think you look luvverly” I sprayed beer all over the bar. It really touched my funny bone. He asked where I was from and I told him. “we’re off to Selby now” he said “ would ya like to join us?” I accepted with alacrity .His two mates asked where I had got my clobber, they actually liked the outfit .They had an old Morris Oxford and ,as I squeezed in ,I realised that perhaps I should’nt have got in. They were all 3 sheets to the wind ,especially the driver. After a few miles I wished that I had been drunk too .
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The only woman I met up there who was “ available “ was a young married woman who was getting her own back on her husband , as much as I wanted female company I was’nt in the market for complications. The Young lady who acted as a companion while I was in London succeeded in writing to me.I did’nt know her surname up until I got that letter, it was incredible. Her forename was very old fashioned, her surname sounded like it was out of a Goon show script. I am not going to divulge it because she was a nice girl, but whenever anyone saw one of her letters they thought it was a joke. However we wrote to each other while I was on the Acclivity and I promised her that should I ever find myself on the Thames again, we would have another night out.
Monday morning ,an engineer came aboard, he was going to be the chief engineer. By now I was quite accomplished with the the cooking and ,the newbie asked if I would cook for him too. Next aboard was a Scots A.B. ;
he, likewise he asked to be catered for too. The Mate and the skipper came aboard ,but no cook. The skipper offered to pay me double if I took the cooks job too, I said there was no chance of that happening, they could’nt complain when I was doing it voluntarily, it would be a different story if I was a paid hand.
At the start of the third week we were ready for sea, our destination was Holland where we would pick up a full load of liquid cooking fat for Van Den Berghs in London.
She was the smallest vessel I had ever sailed on 248 GRT. I’d been on ships ith bigger lifeboats. And, for a new vessel ,she looked curiously old fashioned. She was robust and had a traditional bridge/wheelhouse. She would be watch on watch off and the watches would be shared by the mate and skipper. We would be getting buckets of overtime .
We worked long and exhausting hours ,but there were no overly long runs,Holland and Belgium were the furthest foreign ports and London and the East Coast would be our main U.K destinations
Because we were carrying foodstuff the inspections we had to undergo were quite rigorous, chemist’s used to examine every inch of the tanks before they would clear them for loading. And the heat coils kept the fat simmering all the way across the North Sea. Our first unloading point was up the Pool of London at a place called Galleon’s Reach, what a super name ,not far from the famous Prospect of Whitby pub. We got there spot on the appointed hour, only trouble ,the wharf was closed. We could’nt go any where else because all the adjacent wharfs were closed too. We could see people in the street through the wharf gates but none of them heeded our call. The skipper got on the VHF and tried to raise someone ,to no avail. The tide was on the ebb and we were having to sail at slow speed just to stay in position near the wharf. A police launch noticed our predicament and came along side. The skipper explained our plight and the river police took hold of the situation and climbed up the wharf and took our ropes. When the bobbies found out we had just come from the contintent they asked if we had any American cigarettes. They offered to taxi us ashore ,and make sure we got back( the wharf was locked and we could 'nt leave)We struck a deal, 20 cigarettes I way ,and no less than two men at a time . That suited us down to the ground. When I was being taxied ashore ,the police pilot picked up on my Liverpool accent.” You’ve gotta meet our super’ mate’ eeze from your neck of the woods” Like me ,he lived in Kirkby.I left my oppo and told him I’d see him in the Prospect of Whitby later. On arriving at Wapping Police HQ I was taken through to meet the super’ . He was nearing retirement and gave me a great welcome. He gave me a little tour of the station and then took me through to the police side of the reception desk. The first thing I noticed was the beer pump handles beneath the counter ,there was mild ,bitter and lager. He asked me if I would like something to wet my whistle so I had a pint of bitter. He was very interested in our ship, wanted to know where we would be sailing and if we would be regulars up in the Pool . I answered as best as I could and I had another pint and a large whisky chaser. One of the full length lockers had a row of optics in it and it was all good stuff. By this time we were quite chummy and he asked me if I would be interested in doing a little “errand” for him. He said it would pay well and I would’nt have any problems with the customs.. My brain was going like a train,was it drugs? He told me not to worry, it would be a nice little earner and there would be no complications. I said that we often got the customs aboard when we down in the lower reaches. He assured me that he would know when we where in the Estuary and he could have a launch to meet us be fore we entered the river. I shook his hand and,in the time honoured expression of the New’s of the World reporters ,made my excuses and left. I never took up his offer of wealth and riches,it seemed to much like a “sting”
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