[Fairwinds]

Originally Posted by Ron Stringer

It appears that something has been missed out of the 1st line of the next paragraph

Hi Ron

Had to split the article to accommodate the site limits. Here are the missing lines / cheers.....



In the traditional way of apprentice boys we carried out a variety of tasks around the decks and in the holds, sometimes assisting the Chinese carpenter, and sometimes working alone, painting and scrapping, or servicing the lifeboats. This involved the regular replacement of the water, biscuits, and barley sugar kept under the thwarts in special tanks. Applying Stockholm tar to tanks, or setting up cement boxes was another task. The senior apprentice received orders for the day's work from the Mate, and then it was just a matter of getting on with it. Occasionally, it was possible to speed up the work so that the rest of the day could be free time, but it always depended on the mood and whims of the Mate. Sometimes, things went horribly wrong, as when I mistook instruction to sand down a door and revarnish it. I chose a highly polished door leading into the dining saloon when it had been intended to work on one of the outside doors. It had seemed odd to me, but orders were orders I reasoned! It was only put right in Calcutta by skilled polishers, as one of a myriad of jobs on a long repair list.

We rarely mixed with the passengers, but there were moments. Mostly, the passengers were returning or joining civil servants and sometimes they travelled with their children or relatives who were more in our age bracket. There was one particular girl that we all fancied, including the Mate, who unfortunately for us youngsters pulled rank. On the main deck along the starboard side was a double cabin for the apprentices, and it was conveniently opposite the barber's shop which also stocked sweets and snacks. Never mind that the chocolates, kept in the warm were soon covered in a white deposit of mildew, we still scoffed them all when funds would allow. Next door to our apprentices cabin and separated only by a thin bulkhead was a particularly randy and predatory electrician whose aim in life appeared to be the pleasing of any needy lady passengers. He entertained us regularly with the sounds of his energetic lovemaking.

Our route from Durban to Calcutta and back took in many ports up and down the East African coast, and anchoring played a major part in our progress. Anchoring was also regularly resorted to on the Indian and Bangladeshi ports in the Sunderbans, Chittagong being the most important where we often loaded very heavy bundles of tough, shiny, straw coloured Jute, and bales of Gunny bags for East African ports. Work went on through the night, and one of our duties as apprentices was to ensure that the gangs in the holds filled all the space right up between the beams - not an easy task. This was accomplished by many hands all working in unison to repetitive chants, not unlike European sea shanties of old, with a leader calling out and a chorus responding. It was impressive and usually carried out with good humour and diligence. My this means, prodigious weights could be lifted up and rammed home. Lighting was provided by portable clusters as they were known, and these had a circle of bulbs for maximum effect. Keeping the bulbs replaced and re- positioning the clusters around the hold was another job for the apprentice on duty, and in a tropical downpour it could be dangerous and unpredictable as they became soaked and shorted out. Our Chinese carpenter amused us by sticking his fingers in the sockets to test for power. The Inchanga and her sister Isipingo were designed with 4 small reefer spaces in number 4 hatch tweendeck, and these were in regular use for a variety of produce in bags. I can recall freezing nights in these spaces tallying bags in and out, whilst outside it was the lovely balmy atmosphere of a tropical night . The temptation to step outside was countered in the knowledge that pilfering or irregularities could so easily occur. It was a relief when the heavy thick doors of these lockers, as they were called, were finally slammed shut.

Arriving and leaving port my role was assisting the Mate on the Foc'sle, and I had personal charge of the anchor buoy which served such a useful role in fast flowing muddy waters. This was simply a wooden float attached to an anchor fluke by thin wire, and coiled up and secured on the rail ready for use. When the anchor flew out, the twine lashing broke, and the buoy would usually give us a tell tale location of the anchor on the bottom. It was a rough and ready tool which often went wrong but it was useful in the main. I learned a lot in that year about anchoring, and the fascination for a youngster like me at that time was the variety of trash that came up on the flukes. Everything from other people's anchors, i.e. those from nearby ships, to ropes and wires, and debris of all sorts. When the windlass started straining loudly, I knew we had caught a big one! Washing tons of mud from the flukes with a hose was part of the fun. It also happened that we often needed to unshackle the anchor to attach the chain to river buoys in some of the ports served.

On the African coast, we usually had a leisurely stop in Mombasa, where the pace of life in the port was slow and measured. It was the days when B.I's lovely Kampala and Karanja were often in port and we might easily be on the next berth dwarfed by their size and opulence. It also meant time for relaxation, playing table tennis in the seaman's mission, or a trip up Port Reitz in the motor lifeboat when we swam and drank beer in the Port Reitz hotel. Looking back, I also recall loading bags of raw asbestos from the inland mines, long before the warnings were sounded over the dangers of this material. Further down the coast, stops were made at Zanzibar and Dar Es Salaam, and often in the minor port anchorages of Linda, Tanga, and Pemba. It was idyllic but short stops meant constant anchoring and stopping and starting. Beira was a major call, and strangely we often suffered the dreaded wait for a berth, anchoring off in the bay. This seemed strange, because our passenger status and network of agents usually ensured that we were able to ' jump the queue '. Not here though, and I recall working on deck in sweltering heat and being bitten by Tsetse flies which could easily sting through the shirt. Next stop south would be Lourenço Marques, now Mobutu, and these two ports were pleasant stops with great local beer often served up with a variety of snacks including beans. They were railway ports with tracks coming down to the quay with copper bundles and other produce.

Durban was a great port, the seafront hotels and bars looking most welcome from seaward, especially at night with all the magical twinkling coloured lights. The port is marked by the famous Bluff, and this represented home, or as near as we could get to it. We often had valuable transshipment cargo to discharge and our job as apprentices was to remain down the holds to try and prevent pilfering. Silks and clothing from Japan were in bundles, and I recall fashionable shoes packed in boxes with the left ones together, and the corresponding shoes in separate cartons, presumably to also deter pilfering. On one occasion during one of my stints in the hold, the labourers, always in great fettle, laughing and singing, crammed two left shoes on their feet. Then they climbed out of the hold at the end of the shift dressed in gaudy silk scarves and dresses, still laughing and singing, and attempted to run the gauntlet of the strict dock guards. It was hard not to admire their temerity and their high spirits