Time For a Change
And so we found ourselves in Felixstowe, I cannot recall much of the port ,there were s few little coasters and fishing boats in ,we were there with another cargo of Jet from Germany. Because we were going to be there overnight ,Big Mick suggested going with him to his old U.S. Airforce haunts in Ipswich. It was a place that I had never been to before and so I was happy to keep him company.
On the way up there he said he was going to see if he could pick some woman ,any woman ,up and see if she would go back to the Assurity with him ;so I was going to be a gooseberry.
It was mid evening by the time we got there , mid evening on a Saturday night and it looked like Ipswich was closed. But Mick knew where he was headed, in was in a shabby side street , must have been fruit and fish stalls there in the day time because the place was littered with all the detritus of a market. The bar we went into looked like it had seen better days, the walls were varnished with nicotine and the lighting was low and murky. There were very few customers in the bar. Looked like we were in for a wild night. Of the U.S Airforce there was nary a sign , had they flown the coop? A little way down the bar from us sat a young brunette who two young black men sat each side of her; both of them were making a play for her and it was interesting to watch.
They might have been twins , dressed identically it was hard to tell one from the other, Little Richard seemed to have been their model ,their luxuriant black hair was pomaded into a DA, and they had full drape jackets with velvet collars. Mick kept giving them withering looks, he did?nt like to black guys dating white girls and I kept trying to distract him. ? She should be feckin? ashamed of herself, she would?nt be doin? that in New Orleans? Just then a working girl came in the bar, thank god, if she had?nt arrived I?m sure Mick would have started a ruck with those kids.
The working girl was quite pretty and Mick made his move quite quick ,not that he had any competition, he was just eager for feminine company. He brought her back to where we were seated at the bar and made a quick intro duction. More drinks were bought and Mick started canoodling just like the black kids down the bar. I was bored witless, afraid of Mick starting a fight earlier , I was now on the outer edges of his chat with Miss Ipswich.
It was long coming but closing time finally arrived , Mick was in seventh heaven because his lady was happy to go home with him, home being the Assurity. We were walking three abreast down the pavement toward the station when a long and low American limo pulled up alongside us , it was moving at our pace and the front passenger window rolled down, a rock faced guy with a snappy panama jutted his head out of the window an said in a loud voice ?Where are you going Mary?? I was between her and the car and saw her tremble visibly. ?It?s none of your business ? Mick growled. She stood still, looking fearfully at the car, there were three heavies in it. Mary was mute with fear. ?Are you taking them to the flat? this was asked in a voice quiet and menacing .?Tell ?im to feck orf? thundered Mick. ? Your friend likes hospital food does he ? the thug hissed . Mary went to the car and the rear passenger door opened and in she went. Mick was apoplectic when the car glided away. The veins in his neck were corded and his face was thunderous. I said we should go and get a fish supper and get back aboard but Mick needed a lot of cooling down.
There did?nt seem to be a fish and chip shop open anywhere, we seemed to be going in circles and then we saw the two black guys and the girl, Mick?s dander was up . They were in a shop door way and were having a three way necking session, Mick wanted to go over and give them a smacking but I dragged him away. Just then we saw a fresh faced young policeman and I asked where we could get some chips. He gave us directions to a place just around the corner, we came back down the street with our fish suppers when we saw the young policeman in the shop door way ; he was getting the bejesus thumped out of him by the black boys?. And the young girl was giving him a kicking too.
?C?mon Brian, let?s give these feckers wot they?ve been needin? all night?
He roared across the street and grabbed one of them by the throat, that left the other guy and the girl. Being a noted coward I was faced with a dilemma , run and let the other chase me or take a chance and get marmalised. I still don?t know how it happened but I found myself alongside Mick and I had hold of the other by his wrists. I was?nt going to let go of them and hit him because it would me he wou;ld be free to hit me. So there we were ,me and the black doing a two step in the doorway with an unconscious copper beneath our feet . Mick was venting all of his fury on his guy and it was in my mind that he could have this guy in front of me when he was ready for him. Meanwhile, the girl jumps on Micks back and starts beating the crap out of him with her shoe, a stiletto heeled one at that. I don?t know how long we were jazzing about but all of a sudden I received a tremendous blow across the back of my head. The black guy in front of me literally blanched with fear and I swung around to see what was up when I received another whack. There was a van load of policemen and they were going to give us all a hiding, thankfully the young copper had come to his knees and called ?Not the white lads Sarge, they?re helping me? The black guys were beaten into the black maria, our fish suppers were squashed into the pavement and we were bruised and tired. The old police sergeant came over to us ,his eyes narrowed to two splits beneath his helmet. ? An? where did you two characters spring from ? he muttered grimly. ? We?re off a boat in Felixstowe ? ? Ye?d best get back there then, we don?t need your type here?
The battered young bobby looked at us ,he was sorry for us but could?nt say it.
One good thing about it all , it was good therapy for Mick.
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We did another couple of North Sea runs but the Assurity?s engine was getting much the worse for wear, the captain told us we would have to got to the company?s H.Q. in Greenhithe on the Thames. Engineers from the Newbury company were coming down to see what the problem was ,we would be having at least a weekend in Greenhithe.
Geographically, Greenhithe is right by were the Dartford Bridge over the Thames is, but this was 1963 ,that bridge was still on the drawing board, back then the little port was a bustling place, Everards had nigh on a hundred or more vessels , deep sea ,coasters, sailing barges and sundry other vessels.
We got there early on a Saturday morning and were moored up to buoys just off the port. There about a half dozen vessels moored up and the jetty?s and wharves were humming with life. A mad cacophony chipping hammers ,drills ,klaxon yelling, steam whistles blowing. Liners ,great white castles of majesty, vied with bustling beaverish tugs, and grizzled old sailing barges pushed along by gusts of wind. I loved the place on sight. Right on the Thames, every ship headed for all the London docks passed this place and there were many ,many ships in those days. Going to Tilbury, East India docks , Surrey Commercial , to the wharves and reaches that stretched right up to the Pool of London. The air was alive with the sounds of trasde and commerce.
I had been suffering with a tropical ulcer on my neck, it was from a bite I had received somewhere on the west Coast of Africa. Captain Fane had made arrangements for me to go to a hospital in London which specialized in tropical diseases ,so, no sooner had we moored to the buoys I was put on train to London to have my treatment. Thinking back ,life was so much more orderly then, there were frequent trains along the river to the city, quicker than a bus and just as cheap. I was quickly seen to at the hospital and ,because it was a half day I spent a few hours up the West End just looking at the sites. I?d only seen a bit of London before ,when with the sea school, and that was Kensington and the bit between Whitehall and the Embankment. This time I looked around Trafalgar Square, walked up to Piccadilly Circus and had some pie and chips by Leicester Square. I went and had a look at the second hand bookshops in Charing Cross road. I was looking for a particular book, part of a series that I had been introduced to by the bosun on the Assurity. A week or two before we arrived at Grenhithe ,the bosun had loaned me a book called ?A
Fox Under My Cloak? . It was by Henry Williamson and was semi autobiographical. I had never read such a powerful book in my life; written as a novel ,it depicted life in the trenches in the first World War. Never before had I been so moved by a piece of literature, little did I know that it would take me all of eight year before I succeeded in reading all of the work, ?A Chronicle of Ancient Sunlight? By the time I turned the last page ,I found that my world and my way of thinking had been changed beyond my imagining.
The first steps in that change began when I returned to Greenhithe.
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