R.I.L. TALES

Back to Work

Amsterdam to Hong Kong - 18 March 1958

Leaving Amsterdam Schiphol Airport for the Far East as a married man was a new experience. This was the very first time I had to go back to sea and provide for a family of my own. Because of my love for my seagoing life, the joining of a ship had never been a problem. This time I was no sure that I was going to cope with the situation. I was both sad and glad to get back to work.

Seated in the plane next to a seasoned traveller in the window seat, who was only interested in his pornographic picture magazine, I had little chance to look at the people, all waving to someone and nobody in particular, as the distance was far too great to recognise a person. Although useless, this was common practice, because it made you feel better.

First to London by BEA, then a mad scramble between two airports to get to BOAC, made worse because of the tight scheduling and the fact that the Britannia was leaving on time. I just followed all the instructions from the ground staff and before I knew what had really happened we were in the air, 1730 GMT.

First stop was Dusseldorf to pick up a few Germans and then off to Rome, where we just had one hour to stretch the legs. From Rome to Beirut, flying at a speed of 370 miles/hour at an altitude of 21.500 feet for another one hour stop before leaving for Basra, where we arrived in the middle of the night. Out of the plane with a soft drink voucher in your hand for a little while to be herded back in for the flight to Karachi, where we arrived at 12.30 GMT, and….. we had our first delay because of a technical problems.

We went to the BOAC Hostel and left again three hours later for Calcutta, where we arrived over the airport in heavy fog at midnight. After a few low flying approaches we went to Yagra, a small military airport nearby. By this time I was fast asleep. Eventually we landed in Calcutta at 04.00 GMT, a mere 36 hours of travel and eight stops since leaving Holland. Because we had gone past the safe daylight arrival time in Hong Kong we were put up in the Great Eastern Hotel and treated with a sightseeing tour through Calcutta in the afternoon.

Late in the evening we departed from Calcutta for Rangoon, where another delay occurred, which did not really matter as Hong Kong was closed when we arrived there early in the morning of the 21 March 1957. Seven other planes with priorities were circling above the mist and we were diverted to Manilla, where BOAC was lucky to find us first class accommodation in the Luneta Hotel. I thought to be doing the right thing by reporting to the RIL Office and telling them our predicament of being late getting to Hong Kong. No expenses spared and I was treated like a King. Now I realise the Representative saw an excellent opportunity to write off some of his unexplained costs.

BOAC offered a tour and tickets to see the film “The Bridge over the river Kwai” to fill the day. The next morning things happened smoothly and we landed in Hong Kong at noon that day, 0400 GMT, 84 hours since departure Amsterdam and only 48 hours late.

In the customary RIL fashion I was escorted to the Miramar Hotel in Kowloon and settled into a luxurious room costing the RIL $ 60 HK per day with the message to wait for the “Tjipondok” and join as Second Mate for the voyage to Tsamkong for a full load of rice to Tandjung Priok and return with 7000 ton of bauxite from Bintang to Yokohama. Furthermore there was the simple instruction to report to the Office A.S.A.P.

s.s. Tjipondok

25 March 1958

It is not a good thing to be late when you join a new ship, but I came very close. I had not asked the reception of the “Miramar” in Kowloon for a “wake up” call and slept in. A phone call from the RIL got me out of bed in a hurry and on the way to the “Tjipondok” in the “Tji”, the RIL launch, on her second trip to the ship.

The first impression was very pleasing. Captain JJGK showed that you did not have to be a Royal Navy drilled person to be a good Master, something I had never experienced before in the RIL. His attitude reflected in the mood on board, creating a casual but disciplined life. The Chief Officer was BdH, a pleasant young and capable person. He could take charge when needed.

Captain JJGK was known to have a few drinks and then become homesick whist playing the vinyl records of his wife singing operas. The stylus of the record player was occasionally nudged back to the start of the groove and those squeals were a sure sign that it was time for bed.

From the moment I stepped on board I was back in my element. There was some pressure to pay the crew, a job I had not done before, but managed by following the RIL instruction book. Then the chart corrections, gyro maintenance, the landing/loading of HM Mail, everything seemed simple on this ship and I enjoyed being back at work. Both the Captain and Chief Officer offered to help, notwithstanding BdH was in his home port.

A visit to RIL/ND put a little damper on it as the acting Superintendent Nautical Department, Captain JJ, could not help showing his power and gave me hell for staying on extra leave longer than he thought was normal. Even the glass of beer I put on the bill in the “Miramar” was mentioned. I quickly put in an oversized expense account to make me feel better.

As my luggage would not arrive until Yokohama, I had to buy uniforms. Black and white shoes, five sets of “whites”, a new cap, a battle dress and various items like soap, toothpaste, slippers, etc. The choice was Hong Kee or Lat Chong for tailors and suppliers. They had everything a man ever wanted and …………a lot more, if required. From my previous ship on the Hong Kong service I remembered that Hong Kee was for Deck Officers and the other one for Engineers, just the same as the card games Bridge and “Klaverjassen” = Canasta. The total cost was $400 HK and ready within two days, hand made and laundered, delivered on board and placed in the cupboard by their female staff.

It made a big dent in my salary of fl 500 per month which I had to cover with an “overdraft” on my wages, approved by the RIL.

27 March 1958, from Hong Kong to Tsamkong.

Sailing from Hong Kong we passed the “Tjibantjet” lying on the rocks, where she had ended up after dragging her anchor during a typhoon. There seemed to be hope for salvage. Later I sailed with JP, who was wireless operator when it happened, which now made it a different memory. At the time it was just one of our ships and that was bad enough.

Tsamkong is on the island of Hainan, where we loaded 5000 tonnes of rice in bags, which came out of a shed a long way up the river, then called Kwang Chow Wang. It was not very interesting to be on deck from 00.00 till 07.00 as work went on continuously from start to finish. The Red China propaganda and music were played loudly though loudspeakers, just so we could not forget were we were.

The “Tjipondok” is a Victory Class ship, built during the Second World War for the transportation of cargo across the Atlantic. Nobody ever thought that these vessels would live so long. Everything was basic and very sound. My cabin was smaller than the accommodation of Second Mates on modern ships. The colour schedule was dull, red and green.

On the very first day, whilst in charge of the Mess room I had some words with the Chief Steward, who after 40 years of loyal service to the RIL thought he could get away with serving the Officers a mediocre meal. That was a good start and had me accepted in my job by all parties and things changed rapidly.

30 March 1958, sailing from Tsamkong to Tandjung Priok

Now we were on the way to Indonesia and a new experience. This ship has a steam turbine, which is very quiet and no vibrations like a motor ship. The only noises are from the chickens, the 3^rd Mate PAvdB bought and housed in crates on deck, just outside my cabin. Then there were two dogs, “Poppy” and “Whitey”, definitely not pedigree bred and picked up somewhere a long time ago and accepted as part of the ship. Unreal, if I ever thought this was possible with some of my previous superiors I have sailed with. At sea I started to do my “rounds” and included the engine room, where I did find the boilers to create the steam, but not the engine!! I was actually standing on the turbine and created both frowns and laughs from the engineers on duty.

First to be unloaded were 380 bags of Mail from Hong Kong, which was good paying cargo and in the care of the 2^nd Mate. Being the end of the month all salaries had to be calculated, including the work statements, copies of which to be send to RIL Hong Kong as soon as possible. On top of all that arrived a bundle of Notices to Mariners for chart corrections. As if they were testing me, we had to sail out and calibrate compasses, which was also my responsibility. Everything was to be covered with copies to the Head Office and created some blood, sweat and tears. On top of all that my sea going watches were 00.00 to 04.00 and 14.00 to 16.00 hours.

The stress was relieved by the easy way things were done. Moving the ship did not involve extra people. BdH had some rupiahs to spend and organised a real “rijsttafel” to be served on deck after all work was done. We could pay him back in Japanese yen later, simple.

Tandjung Priok had changed, it was now dead. We encountered quite a few KPM ships being towed up the Gaspar Straits, with only Dutch Officers on board and no native crew. Where in the olden days this port was a hive of activity, there were only a few Russian ships, waiting for some cargo to take out of the country. Nobody wanted to go ashore and when we went to the anchorage to discharge the rice, it was really very peaceful. The news bulletins from Holland about the situation in Indonesia did not make any sense to us

10 April 1958 in Tandjung Priok.

One delay after another slowed down the discharge of the 5000 tonnes of rice. The excuse was a shortage of lighters. To get back to our schedule we had go back alongside and discharge the balance, which would be picked up by the “Tjikampek”. Instead of a leisure cruise along the coast we had to head North for Bintang to load 7000 tonnes of bauxite. Shore leaves were prohibited and we noticed more military activity on the lighters. We stayed out sight and in the shade of the superstructure, as this ship was not air conditioned. We were all looking forward to get out at sea and let some fresh air circulate through the ship.

14 April 1958 in Bintan.

We arrived in the early hours, before the sun had come over the horizon and steamed up and down as the approach of the wharf is not easy. Sailing between low islands in narrow waters up to the Kidjang Straits, where a strong current was more than interesting and good seamanship was required. The pilot was Mr M, a weathered colonial type Dutchman, who doubled as Harbour Master, Stevedore and declared himself an expert in local knowledge. That was needed and his patience equalled that of our Captain. They stood there talking like old friends, whilst we floated up to the jetty with the incoming tide. I was asked to take charge on the forecastle and be standing by the anchor. Not having been there before, I had no idea what was coming. We passed the wharf and slowed down. All of a sudden the ship veered to port and headed straight for the riverbank. The bow went in the mud, sweeping aside a couple of coconut trees, making me duck for cover. There was no reaction from the bridge. As the current brought the stern around and the ship slipped backwards, the engine was put ahead and we gently nudged up to the wharf. I doubt if the two Captains ever stopped talking. Again this was ever so easy.

Bauxite is the ore used for making aluminium. Two long chutes dropped the cargo in the hatches, were small bulldozers worked it up in the sides of the holds. Any safety factors were not established as yet and the loading went very fast. Most supervisory people were Dutch, married to or living with locals. Mr M was married to a girl from the Jordaan in Amsterdam, who made the most of the opportunity to speak Dutch by inviting a number of us for lunch, “rijsttafel” of course. That was an old fashioned feast where you could find the limits of what you can stow away.

From Bintang we had to go Singapore to load drinking water. Upon leaving Tandjung Priok the Military had refused to supply water. Water in Bintang was rationed because of the drought and our last water tank contained water, which was found to be unsuitable for either drinking or use in the boilers.

Arriving on the outer edge of the Eastern Anchorage the water lighters were waiting and soon the local Agent came on board with the mail for the crew and some local news papers. To our amazement we read that Tandjung Pinang was bombed during the previous evening. We were then just a stone throw away from that place and nobody had heard a thing. Trust the engine room crew to come up with the suggestion that they had used flour filled condoms to keep it quiet to the outside world and prevent serious injuries to their own people they were attacking.

20 April 1958 from Singapore to Simizu in Japan

2829 Nautical miles to be covered in just over eight days started in a tropical paradise, with smooth silky waters and a temperature of around 25 degrees Celsius. Apart from the watch keeping the wages were to be done, instruments to be overhauled, etc, etc. The Chief Officer was painting an old boat he had bought from Mr M in Bintang to be sold in Hong Kong. Everybody was pleased to be out of Indonesia, where the situation was not getting any better for Dutch ships.

25 April 1958, Shimizu in Japan

The whole trip across the South China Sea was very smooth with the “Tjipondok” doing more than sixteen knots. Only when approaching Japan, during the last night, did the wind come up. It created a wonderful show of light on the waves, which made it very hard to keep a look out for small fishing boats, with their lights (if any) close on the surface of the sea. With the daybreak came the fog banks and we started blowing the foghorn every two minutes. Around noon the world opened up and the majestic Mount Fujiyama towered high above the other mountains, glowing in the crisp air and showing a good coverage of snow on the top.

Upon berthing the RIL Agent brought the crew mail on board and I received three fat epistles from home, letters numbered 4, 5 and 6. It was then that the mind was going into uncontrolled territory and you found out that you mentally really had to work on living apart from your family. Reality had set in and that was the time to accept life as it had been created by us, as there were few other options. All those private thoughts and tribulations will be kept as such; this is going to be the travelling part of the life of a married sailor.

28 April 1958, Kobe and Osaka

In the days when cargo was worked around the clock, the ships departed as soon as possible. Midnight found me back up on the bridge in the rain leaving port. Bad visibility allowed me to show off my seamanship to the Captain, who remained for a little while in the back of the wheel house. The main culprits were the little wooden boats that did not show up on the radar. It was typical for the weather to deteriorate, just at the narrowest point of the marked channel. By then the Captain had left me to do my job, which gave me a good feeling. Only much later I learned that had a habit of standing on the deck below the bridge and follow the activities of his Mates.

30 April 1958 Kobe and Osaka

In Kobe I went ashore for the first time as a married man together with BdH, just to keep each other on the straight and narrow. Like two decent married men we steered clear of the little bars frequented in my previous life and headed for the movies. We saw a Western called “The Sheepman” with Glenn Ford. That was a safe bet, no lovey-dovey stuff to put thoughts in our heads. I have never been ashore in Japan for such a long time for so little money. That was a benefit of being married.

In return for two bottles of beer the Captain had taken over my watch to allow all his Mates to go ashore, another gesture I had never experienced before.

Kobe and Osaka were almost adjoining cities, less than an hour sailing from each other. There was no cargo available in Kobe so we went to Osaka, where my seaman’s trunk came on board. That really settled me on board. With my own gadgets on the desk and a framed wedding photo in prime position I felt I had reached a goal.

Again no cargo was available and it looked like a good opportunity to give the gyro compass a check up and service. That good idea ended up in doing overtime as we had to return to Kobe as soon as possible.

We celebrated the Dutch Queen’s birthday with a special dinner in the mess room. Pre dinner drinks with oysters and other finger food, soup and then the main course a choice of fish, steak or chicken, followed by desserts, all washed down with a free supply of red and white wines. Captain JJGK had to obey orders and dine with the Consul in the City, although he had rather stayed with us. Most of the Officers ended up with gastric problems, which we blamed on oysters that had more seagoing experience in the RIL, than many Senior Captains could ever accumulate.

The RIL ship “Tjinegara” was alongside the wharf not far away and a good reason to make that the target of a walk ashore. I took the dogs with me, not realising they had not been out of their own environment and off lead were very hard to control in between cranes and strange looking machinery. Without prompting they raced back on board.

The first person to meet was the 3^rd Engineer JL, whom I sailed with on the “Tjitjalengka” in my first term. He quickly reminded me of a bet we made that I would never marry whilst on leave. A case containing 24 bottles of beer had been the wager. Forget it and regard it as a joke, he said, continuing to get information about the wedding procedures in Amsterdam, with which I could help. Back on board the Quartermaster was only too pleased to go for a visit to the other ship, even with a case under his arm. That gave JL two cases of beer as he had quickly made a bet with their 3^rd Mate that I would honour mine within the hour of me leaving their ship.

4 May from Kobe to Misumi

The waiting for cargo did not do us much good as far as filling the holds was concerned. The shipping schedules collapsed and to keep ships going new places were tried. All charts were kept in readiness for decisions to be made in various RIL Offices.

7 May 1958 from Japan to China

The weather remained unpleasant and so were our expectations on what was going to happen in the next few days. A strike in Moji prevented us calling in and we went to a tiny port called Misumi to load whatever was there. To find that place was not easy, at times sailing between two peaked islands, not more than 150 metres apart. That would lead into a wide bay, where the tides had created a good anchorage, but also closed the port at low tide. Reefs were then exposed and sand banks clear of the surface. Because of the sudden change in schedule the authorities had to be called in from elsewhere which was the reason there were no shore passes for the crew. The Pilot told us of the performance of the “Mama-san” from the one and only bar losing out on the good earnings that could have been had. Her place would have been “boutique” standard in the dictionary of “happy houses”.

What should have been a glorious cruise trip through the Inland Sea was very ordinary. Before we knew it we were in grey dull waters between Japan and Korea, heading for a new experience. In 1958 not many Western vessels called at Shanghai, mainly because of the political and military confrontations that were happening on a daily basis. Even then the media made mountains out of molehills and we tried to tell ourselves that if it was really bad, the RIL would never have sent one of their ships to that area. How extremely naïve to believe that some article in the Dutch Shipping Laws could put that pressure on such a profit orientated Company.

The visibility became worse as we neared the Chinese Coast. Careful navigation to the entrance of the Yangtze Kiang River was hardly necessary as we were escorted to a Pilot vessel and both Pilots and Commando style security officers took full control of the ship, so far for the Dutch Shipping Laws and flying a Dutch flag. The famous river itself was murky brown.

The Anchorage was 14 miles down the river from the harbour, but from there we could see what was the norm with military people everywhere and civilians dressed in blue tunics, poverty and rubbish, bodies floating down the river in between huge amounts of other debris. The sight of a naked little infant floating face down past the ship made you look the other way. This used to be called the Paris of the Far East.

Cargo work was not good due to the lack of coordination and leadership. In a situation where everyone is equal this can be expected. That came to a “full stop”, when I interfered with the handling of a load, far in excess of the safe working load of our cargo gear. That was really something special, a foreigner telling the workers how to “suck eggs”. First there was a lot of shouting and with that the appearance of the military and it became a show of a vocal force. I explained the situation to a very high ranking individual, who simply told me to accept the Chinese way as the only way. With all the noise the Chief Officer and Captain came on deck, together with every available Engineer out of the engine room, with almighty big shifting spanners in their hands. After half an hour the stevedores left the ship, shouting more abuse, which must have been brutal, as our crew did not want to translate what was said. Within the hour other gangs turned up and completed the work in the normal way.

During lunch the Third Mate called out for help from the main deck. He needed manpower to lower rope ladders to a large Junk, which had capsized and was made fast alongside. With axes a large hole was made in the bottom to get the people out. One man was saved and two young kids were dead. The mother had jumped in the water when their ship went over and stood there crying and being hysterical. Security people on our ship gave her hell for showing such weakness to foreigners to such an extent that even our own Chinese crew wanted to interfere. The Boatswain kept his usual iron mask and kept the peace. The impression of Communist China took a bit to digest.

10 May 1958, from Shanghai to Whampoa

The only “small” problem was that we had neither Charts nor Sailing Directions for the port of Whampoa, where we were to load 750 tons of cement. We found the place on a large scale Chart as a speck up the Canton River past Hong Kong and received confirmation that we should collect our instructions from a little boat, waiting for us in Junk Bay as we sailed past. It is always nice to receive your own suggestions back in the form of an instruction from the Superintendent.

That little boat turned out to be the Pilot for Whampoa and we sailed straight through and up the Canton River with beautiful scenery and rice paddies, interspersed with mountain ranges. There was not much time to enjoy the sights as the charts were from before the war and had never been corrected. I had the job to get as much information on the chart as possible. Luckily we had a friendly Pilot and Chinese Security Officers, who allowed me to take bearings as we sailed up the river. I could see the markers and found that shallows had moved as we did not run aground when we should have done so following the chart. This was Second Mate’s work performed under pressure. Both the radar and echo sounder were sealed and private binoculars were locked away, together with all photographic equipment.

The majority of our crew came from Canton and had the opportunity to visit relatives. With that, they wished to collect every cent owing to them and I had to a final payment statement for everyone, just 24 hours before the last one of this voyage, which terminated in Hong Kong.

16 May 1958, Hong Kong

Work in Whampoa was slow and we were delayed, by the time the telegraph signalled the engine room to “Finish with the Engine”, it was after 1800 hours. That was the moment to test the priorities of a Second Mate, with the Chief Mate going home and the rest of the crew wanting their final statement for the voyage. Stevedores did not waste time opening hatches and setting the cargo gear, with the comprador Ah Wing knowing more than I could find out. The GPO was very formally requesting immediate landing of HM Mail. Office “Walla’s” from the Nautical Department were sitting in my cabin to collect binoculars and sea charts. In between them you could find the “Saucie/Saucies” emptying out your cupboards and drawers, Honk Kee and Lat Chong the tailors, barbers, shoe makers, suppliers of what every sailor should have to complete a voyage and the lower paid people from Head Office looking for a free drink, as it was well after their normal working hours.

We were just starting the day ………..this was what it was all about, you were wanted everywhere, I loved every minute of it ………..I thought I handled it well and was very pleased.

However, at midnight a special crew came on board to clean the deep tanks. These things happen only in Hong Kong where people organise people and forget to communicate with others.

That work would have been a routine job on a cargo ship where these tanks were only used for the purpose of liquid cargo. The packing on the lids had deteriorated and the pressure test was a failure. More people were employed to renew the greasy hemp packing and work went on night and day. We were only lucky that RIL/HK had made an early decision to have the cleaning done by Contractors for the carriage of palm oil from Belawan to Japan.

The end of this voyage came with the realisation of living ashore in Hong Kong. Every single day the Chief Officer was phoned up at home and requested to appear either at the Head Office or on board. There was no accurate timing; he could wait all afternoon for somebody, who had made an appointment for the morning. There was no consideration given to the fact that this was his home port. That was something I had never paid any attention to as a bachelor sailor. It could be a disadvantage to live in Hong Kong and was to be considered, whilst my new wife was travelling on the “Oronsay” to Australia to have our first child born “at home”

19 May 1958, from Hong Kong to Indonesia

The South China Sea can be a treasure, smooth and warm with just a hint of tropical scent in the air. Again, it was a pleasure to be on the bridge at midnight. In a show of lights the “Tjiwangi” appeared from the opposite direction and looked spectacular with the moon coming up behind her. Their Second Mate was JvD, who used to have an eye on my wife and never really forgave me marrying the girl he wanted. He pestered us with the signal light to find out who we were; he acknowledged our reply and continued in English. Obviously making an impression on visitors on the bridge, he did only react when I signalled my name. My main reason for continuing the contact was to try and find out what was happening in Indonesia. In Hong Kong our crew had threatened to join any Dutch ship sailing to Indonesia. The little man from Ah Wing vowed to blacklist the whole crew and we set sail straight after that matter was settled. The “Tjibadak” was in Singapore where all the crew had walked off and there were rumours of “danger money” being payed out to certain crewmembers on the “Tjiluwah”. The answer from JvD was ”So-So”, which did not sound too good.

Shipboard entertainment was supplied by the latest member of our animal crew, a little male piglet. Both the female dogs were trying to find ways and means to have a serious love affair, which ended up in a spectacle as the piglet was very small. The top deck was the domain of Poppie, whilst Whitie ruled the next deck down, now jealousy had changed the characters of both dogs and we had fights to show who should be the boss. The piglet belonged to the Captain and the Chief Officer, purchased in Hong Kong and destined for the pot when a bit bigger and fatter. “Hannes” the piglet wandered up and down stairways and in and out of cabins, screaming for attention like a baby. That sort of thing could only happen on the “Tjipondok”.

However, the noise became too much and much sooner than planned we had fresh meat on the table instead of our well travelled supplies from South America. The dogs were sad and could not be touched; it obviously was the disappointment of what could have been.

27 May 1958, on the Java Coast

After all the apprehension about the state of the nation in Indonesia, we hit a jackpot of happiness. Like in the olden days the people worked their own speed, were friendly and it was like being “home” again. We were not allowed ashore, but that was the RIL instruction to prevent any possible problems. The usual exchange of cigarettes for rupiahs supplied the cash for special Indonesian dishes to come on board with the local RIL representative.

Following the schedule we went to Semarang, where cargo was worked in and out of lighters. Stevedore foremen did still communicate in Dutch and Mr K was still the leading man. Those old timers made for a nice and quick turn around. The next stop was Surabaya, where we went further into our past. That port had always been the most entertaining place. The Officers, those who were not required on board were taken to Tretes, a holiday resort high in the mountains, where you could enjoy the pre war popular outings on horseback or just relax with a drink at the pool. It was remarkable that the tugs were still flying the Dutch flag as if this place was not part of Indonesia.

1 June, Belawan on the Sumatra East Coast

The deck crew must have had a good trip as far as their own “business” was concerned because the Quarter Masters organised a special meal for us. That was always a sign of appreciation of not interfering with whatever they were not supposed to do lawfully. With the three Seniors all married, talk came to the differences of living in the Company sponsored places like Hong Kong, Singapore or Durban, in comparison to living in Sydney like the Captain. He told us he payed five pounds weekly rent for a little flat, which stopped nearly any pro/con argument as far as accepting the RIL offered accommodation where available.

The RIL Agent had to go to Medan and asked me to come for the ride as he knew that I was born and bred in the countryside behind Belawan. At first I was a bit apprehensive, remembering the time in 1955, when I was made to miss the ship, because authorities tried to get money out of my father. (I ended up in a nasty “Hotel Immigratie” jail, before being deported to Singapore to rejoin the “Straat Banka”). After a beer in one of the old established hotels, where there were still a large number of Dutch people, I received a quick tour of the area where I had lived after WW2. There was little joy to see the once well kept properties in disrepair. That closed an era and I was pleased to be back on board, where I could indulge again in doing the end of the month wages for Officers and Crew, update all the charts with the latest corrections and other nautical particulars that had come on board that afternoon. Time flies when you are busy and cargo was worked to a tight schedule, allowing us to sail with little tidal leeway to make Singapore before nightfall the next day.

5 June 1958, Singapore

This was another place where RIL Office staff ruled their world, more so than in Hong Kong as they had to justify their actions on paper to the RIL Head Office. Requesting the presence of the Captain and Chief Officer to accompany the Agent to the Dutch Consul to discuss the situation in Indonesian ports was a good ploy. That left the Second Mate in charge to deal with the lower league from the Office. As a surprise the Dutch Shipping Inspection invited themselves on board to go through their spiel. They were very thorough, which is our safety standard and all was well. Somebody must have tipped off the Captain as he kept on phoning if I was coping and the question if they had finished and were gone. His timing was great; they must have crossed paths near the gate. Then we went to the Eastern Anchorage for bunkers and water before sailing to Bintan. That short passage was a pleasure; Captain JJGK told me to get the ship there and disappeared. It was such a good feeling to be trusted to do the job.

13 June 1958, from Bintan to Shanghai

There was a big gap in my reporting as I ended up flat on my back with one leg up in the air. On arrival Bintan I had a sore spot on my left leg, swollen and red, looking like an infection. Captain JJGK took control and organised a visit to the Bauxite Company doctor. This nice young Dutch newcomer to the Far East decided it was either a blood clot or an internal muscle infection. There was the same cure for both and I came back on board, running a decent temperature and a carrying a collection of penicillin or other antibiotics that would have cured a cow. I was not feeling well.

This became an experience to behold. As wages were under control and we were heading out to open waters, I could take it easy and just do as I was told. Firstly came the application of the penicillin injections by BdH, who admitted I was only his second patient. I still think he was more nervous than I, trembling and perspiring as we got through the first time, which took a few cigarettes and beers to bring BdH back to normal. From there on the daily effort with switching cheeks became a routine. Now hear the privilege of being a patient on the “Tjipondok”. First up in the morning the Fourth Mate would ask what I needed. Then, at exactly 09.10 hours the Chief Engineer would call in and every evening at 18.45 hours the Captain would appear in the doorway, demanding the latest temperature reading and bearing a small gift, either a tin of fruit, a couple of oranges or some reading material. All other visitors had their own set times, the senior Junior Engineer after dinner, the wireless operator after lunch, some came before going on watch and others after. They all kept an eye on me, even the Boatswain and the dogs came in. The Cassap and Quartermasters hung around and I just had to ask for help if needed.

The swelling went down and after thorough examinations by both the Captain and Chief Officer I was allowed to go back on duty.

18 June 1958 at Shanghai

The main cargo work was discharging 1500 tonnes of rubber, then back loading general cargo. The rubber was stowed in all hatches allowing a fast turn around working with seven gangs of labour. Not according to our Chinese friends, who were out to teach the Dutch Capitalists how it should be done, only two gangs were made available, the same people working around the clock, slowing the work down when some went missing and found curled up in a corner, fast asleep.

This time we were allowed to go ashore and soon we would find out what was happening in this grey and dull looking place. As we were moored along pontoons we had a good view of what used to be called “The Bund”, from the distance it did not look impressive.

First there was the Seaman’s Mission. This was a stark but spotless place where the Seafarer could have a good meal and a rest away from the ship. But more important to us was “The Friendship Store”, an enormous warehouse where we were given 40% discount on all goods. Gemstones and ivory products, the most exquisitely carved camphor chests and other timber goods were side by side with the choicest silk materials and garments, shantung at fl 3.20 per meter. Furthermore carpets, furniture and curtain material, mink coats, real leather products and ready made garments in a Western style suggesting Russia as the country of origin. All purchases were duly delivered on board a few hours prior to sailing, all neatly packed and marked and there were no complaints.

Beside those two institutions there was nothing else of interest and as it was, we were openly deterred from exploring the town further on our own. It was definitely not a happy place, full of people dressed identical in the blue uniform of the Revolution. The atmosphere was such that nobody could openly discuss their opinion, which resulted in expressionless looks and no smiles. The Government had stated that in five years from 1958, the situation would be totally different. Everybody would hope so, men and women.

In a country where everybody is equal, both men and women do the same work. Ahead of us is Chinese cargo ship with a female 2^nd Officer. It was then weird to comprehend that that lady, with natural promotion, would end up being the Master of a ship.

The Cantonese crew had no objection to visiting Shanghai because they had more money available than the local population and went shopping whenever possible. The result was that the “Tjipondok” became a floating farm. At daybreak, there were roosters welcoming the sun, pigs snorting in their small basket pens and various types of goats bleating, making such a racket that the little monkey of the Laundryman thought he had to add to the chorus and very soon lost his voice.

19 June 1958 Shanghai to Japan

Sailing at 0400 hours was a relief for everybody as the presence of Chinese Security had been there from the very beginning. The Chinese crew had run out of money and strangely enough not one of our Cantonese ever jumped ship, which was a regular occurrence on other ships on the China Service. Going east seemed to be a lot brighter and cleaner, the anticipation of returning to our own world was a mental stimulation. The 00.00 to 04.00 watches were peaceful as there was hardly any shipping to be seen, just fresh air and water, how good was that?

22 June 1958 Yokohama

The anticipated change in the shipping schedule to make up for the time lost in Shanghai saw us bypassing Kobe/Osaka and heading straight into Yokohama. First in line to go ashore was the 4^th Officer LPV and he was also the first to return on board and asked me to issue him a credit as he had met this young lady in a little bar where he stopped for a drink and needed to pursue the connection further, promising to be back on board and ready for duty by 0800 hours the next day. At those times I appreciated my time sailing as a bachelor and experiences in various ports. I understood his predicament…….it was deadly serious.

22 June 1958 Yokohama

The anticipated change in the shipping schedule to make up for the time lost in Shanghai saw us bypassing Kobe/Osaka and heading straight into Yokohama. First in line to go ashore was the 4^th Mate LPV and he was also the first to return on board and asked me to issue him a credit as he had met this young lady in a little bar where he stopped for a drink and needed to pursue the connection further, promising to be back on board and ready for duty by 0800 hours the next day. At those times I appreciated my time sailing as a bachelor and experiences in various ports. I understood his predicament…….it was deadly serious.

It was not fair that she had left with another man before he returned.

The atmosphere on board had changed. With the “Boissevain” arrived the wife of BdH, for the return trip to Hong Kong and it is amazing how people react to a female on board. There was no swearing and in general the dress sense improved, shirts were tucked in and buttoned up and general appearances had been attended to.

In Yokohama I started to have trouble with my left leg again, this time the swelling was below the knee. A visit to the “Boissevain” to see the ship’s doctor confirmed an infection in a vein, very common with people spending long hours on their feet. More penicillin and pills were administered but no rest prescribed.

Chief Officer BdH did not like giving injections. With a brand new needle he had two good hits, but failed to enter the skin, probably because I was just as apprehensive as he was and did not relax my buttocks. He started to perspire and mumble, calling for his wife to assist him. She walked in and was shocked to see her husband in that state. I tried to explain the situation by saying that it was so difficult for him because I had such a tight skin. That was not a good explanation, but turned out to break the air and we had a good laugh. After that it was third time lucky. The Captain called in to tell me that he would get me to see a specialist as soon as the “Boissevain” had sailed. Obviously he had his own ideas about doctors at sea.

The 3^rd Mate on the “Boissevain” was AJCV, who was best man at our wedding. He had stayed in Holland to study for the theoretical part of the Masters Certificate. Just before leaving he became engaged and was not so certain that that bond would be enough to survive the two years apart, only depending on written contacts. Whilst comparing notes we were joined by their 2^nd Mate, JK, who was married and lived with his in-laws in South America. It became a fiery debate of who had made the better choice for the future and a few cold beers did not dampen the spirit.

AJCV and I went ashore together. We started in the New Grand Hotel, a completely new experience for two seafarers, who in the previous terms of duty, would hardly venture further than the second little bar outside the gate. We knew that we wanted to do some shopping for our girls and were guided by all the good advice we had received from BdH’s wife, brochures of jewellery and porcelain goods had been collected by her, even on her quick trip to Tokyo. To keep it a simple and safe purchase we were told to go for well known brands, although more expensive as you had to pay for the name as well as the product, it would also be available in Kobe and this gave us time to consider the choice. As a female she wanted to be involved. My wife would turn 22 years old and I made my choice on what I could afford, Mikimoto pearl ear rings in the shape of a bunch of grapes.

We thought that we had done well and had deserved a drink. Staying away from the little happy-houses near the waterfront, we ended up in the Blue Sky Cabaret, where the band was good, the floorshow lousy, drinks very expensive and no food was available. The “hostesses” would stay away if not wanted but remained available if required. For AJCV it was the first time back in Japan and this outing was a good was a good opportunity to test inner feelings. Wandering back to our ships we were pleased with the experience as a test of managing the future.

25 June 1958 in Yokohama

The “Boissevain” was to be fumigated and Officers were offered a bus tour into the country. Apart from our ship there were people from the “Tjipanas” to make up the numbers. It was a magic way to experience travel in Japan, well organised and safe. The average seafarer would not get that chance very often. By bus through the low lands into the mountains heading for Okatama Valley, a holiday resort near a big lake. The trip took three hours including numerous stops for sightseeing and refreshments. The views were extraordinary as the road wound around hairpin bends to reach greater heights. That is how we reached the little station of the Mount Mitake Railway. A big name for a single carriage contraption, shaped like a staircase, which creeps up a 50% slope to the top of the mountain. There stood an old temple, surrounded by a small settlement with houses built out of timber and paper and a fast flowing stream of clear water giving a sense of peace. That was a big difference from the American Army settlements we had passed earlier in the day, were the yards were filled with large cars and gardens as such were not wanted. It was good to hear that they were slowly being handed back to the Japanese.

28 June 1958 in Kobe and Osaka

The RIL Agencies in Japan were very good and quick to help where possible. On arrival all available mail was promptly brought on board and anyone having letters to be posted, could just give them to the representative to be mailed as soon as possible. Also the delivery of newspapers was not only limited to the Captain and Chief Engineer. I received a couple for the mess room reading table. The fighting in Lebanon was on the front page, together with a report from Dr. Kinsey, stating that 25% of all brides in the United States, were well and truly pregnant and he did call for a better sex education for young people.

A visit to the specialist confirmed that I had an infection in the left leg, nothing to do with thrombosis and more likely related to phlebitis, just a hardening behind the vein, in the muscle and not in the bloodstream. As he prescribed to keep my leg up the Captain was getting worried about the duties on board. He suggested sick leave in Hong Kong or transfer to a passenger ship where a Doctor could attend to me when required. As my main priority was to get a transfer to the Australia Service, I did not like the idea.

05 July 1958 arriving Shanghai

We were just getting used to the little trips between Kobe and Osaka when a new sailing schedule decided we had to stop this habit and proceed to Shanghai, this to the dismay of the bachelor Officers, who had regular second homes ashore and started to act like married men.

My leg was back to normal and I was quickly back into my routine, which pleased everyone. The weather was good and each day a prime example of northern hemisphere summer, without pollution, it made people smile, even if we were on the way to Red China.

As we steamed up the river we received the list of cargo to be loaded, with the request to supply the stowage plan upon berthing. At the Quarantine station the doctor noted in the ship’s journal, that the 2^nd Mate had been off duty and decided to take me to a hospital for further examination and professional opinion. As there was nothing left of the swelling, the Captain signed a piece of paper to guarantee and to take all the responsible of whatever could happen whilst we were in Shanghai. It surely was a precarious moment.

It was dark when we moored with the anchor cable on the buoy in mid stream and the Customs and Security came on board, getting the whole crew on deck, whilst all cabins were searched , which took till after midnight.

After all the rush the cargo was not ready and we stayed on the river. Then the engine room had a problem with the supply of electricity for domestic use. That meant the gyro had to be stopped and arrested in the upright position, the Captain’s fridge was not working and his beer was getting warm, the refrigerated storage chambers were not doing too well and the happy summer feeling was dampened. Then it really got dark, but it was eerie, no rain in sight, but we learned very soon what was on the way - a huge sandstorm. Straight from the desert came this big wall of super fine sand with enormous speed and picked up more power on the way. I was the first to hear the anchor chain slip, but by the time I reached the capstan, both the Boatswain and Cassap were there. All around us vessels moored with ropes drifted by in the semi dark and the noises of parting lines were like gun shots. The three of us worked the cable to prevent it from breaking, giving out when possible to get some more weight in the water, and then taking some in before we came too close the other buoys. It took just under one hour and after securing the ship, the two Chinese and one Dutch had identical skin colour and texture, like a good quality wet and dry sandpaper.

08 July 1958 in Shanghai

At long last we went alongside a wharf and started the loading of general cargo, which was so straightforward, as the Chinese did not appreciate our stowage plan. To make up for lost time they preferred to dump everything in the centre of the hatch, instead of the stowage up in the wings. This goes together with endless lectures about the new style of working in the new world, we must be getting used to. It was not easy, but we did it our way. When completed we departed with the same Custom and Security difficult actions to ensure that the departure from Shanghai would always be a happy memory.

13 July 1958 in Hong Kong

We experienced some high temperatures en route to Hong Kong. 1100 Cases of tomatoes, stowed on deck in well ventilated stowage were ripening too fast, drums containing concentrated chemicals stood with the lids nearly popping off and demanded constant attention. The decks were full of cargo mot suitable for under deck stowage, aircraft fuel in drums, big dripping wooden vats containing “sea blubber”, stone jars with salted eggs and 50 year old eggs, salted and preserved vegetables in a variety of leaking containers. The smell was very potent and the decks became slippery. The goods were all destined for Hong Kong and it was like the market had been waiting for it, before we were could realise everything was discharged and the decks were washed with the courtesy of Mr Ah Wing.

On the way in we passed the “Tjibantjet” and heard that the ship had been docked and found to be impossible to be repaired. Most frames were buckled and with that the once strongest and best built vessel of the fleet was put up for sale to be demolished. A sad bit of history.

Together with the fire on the “Ruys” in Buenos Aires it was also the end of the profit shares for that year.

Hong Kong was at its best with more than average people coming and going, which had already started at the Quarantine station as soon as the yellow flag came down. The RIL “Tjilekas” carried the first load of people accompanying one of the RIL Directors, who spent a long time getting first hand information about Indonesia and Shanghai. The usual hawkers park themselves in the door opening of the ship’s Office, where I learned to take station in port. In the end all was sorted out and the personal dealings with tailors, shoemakers, dry cleaning girls, etc. were better handled than the last visit. When it was all over I only had to declare myself the Officer on Watch, as all other had disappeared. By that time I had paid out the Crew, who had wasted no time at all to go home, it was a Saturday evening and no further cargo work was done.

On Sunday morning I was again in the Ship’s Office when the Chief ND Mr E walked in and made himself comfortable to have a chat. He wanted to know about my plans bringing my wife to live in Singapore. To start off I was very apprehensive as here was the man I respected as my Boss, notwithstanding the reprimand and punishment he had dished out to me at the end of my last term. He did make me do another trip to Japan for the dry-docking and refitting of the “Tjitjalengka”, thereby not only extending my tour of duty, but also reducing whatever little I had saved up for my European leave, because of my lifestyle living in the cottages of Asano Dockyard …….with female company. He saw right through me and had a ball, teasing me with the fact that RIL flats were hard to come by in Singapore and I could be stuck in Australia. Also, why had I not considered living in Hong Kong, a question I had never considered having married an Australian girl.

After he left the Ah Wing Chief Checker told me a flat had been reserved in Singapore, another example of Hong Kong gossip, which turned of to be correct.

On the Monday I had to go ashore and present myself to the personnel section, where all little men can become important if you give them half a chance. Mr E’s visit was a good excuse to refer them to him and walk straight to the man, who claimed I needed new inoculations and X-rays. That was a better move as I was not alone and met a couple of my contemporaries from the other ships, who were just as eager to get out of the Office and into the cool environment of a large hotel. I should have taken notes of the stories I heard about other Mates sailing on various services. I had been warned Hong Kong could be vicious, but never had the opportunity to really be a witness it. Actually, Singapore was not much better and it is well known fact that the seafarer knows all and everything before anybody else.

The next day we sailed for Singapore and with that move another chapter was started.

20 July 1958 in Singapore

Arriving in the middle of the night on the Western Quarantine Anchorage in Singapore, the “Tjipondok” had to wait her turn at daybreak and we eventually berthed at 0700 hours. From a distance the RIL Agent waved to me shaking his head to signal that there were no orders for me to be transferred to the Australia Service. That was a disappointment, but not completely unexpected, I would have had a telegram. After paying out the Crew wages and doing the cargo stowage together with the Chief Officer, the hype of being in my future homeport, Singapore, had settled down and the seafarer’s life continued. Working with seven gangs made short shift of the cargo handling and within forty-eight hours we were ready to set sail for Indonesia.

22 July 1958 in Tandjung Priok

It was very quite and peaceful in Indonesian waters. The busy waterways of the past where you always had at least one ship in sight were empty, apart from the usual small native crafts and fishing vessels going about their business without showing any lights. The encounter with the “Maetsuyker” of the Fremantle to Singapore Service was a welcome break in the monotony. The Aldis signal light was worked to establish identity and also for a bit of social gossip. It seemed that everyone knew my wife was expecting and that I was waiting for a transfer to the Australia Service.

Tandjung Priok was also extremely quiet, no large ships collecting cargo as the economy had all but collapsed. That the RIL managed to sail in and out with big loads was amazing and most likely a result of years of trading done by the JCJL and the KPM. Again there was no shore leave for the Crew for whatever reason, but the attitude of the shore labour was still good and the work was done in an orderly way, just as in the olden days.

We had berthed right opposite the famous “Kampung Kotja”, where the ladies of pleasure would parade along the water’s edge and lift their skirts before squatting on the grass and communicate with us, to where we were sitting on deck having a drink before dinner. Old habits had not died.

24 July 1958 in Semarang

Captain JJGK basically instructed me to accept the RIL invitation for a day ashore. Together with the Fourth Officer, all available Engineers and the Wireless Operator we were taken ashore in a motor launch for a trip to the famous temple, the Borobudur. The quay was full of military personnel, waiting to be shipped on the “Tjiluwah” for posting in Celebes. The RIL Agent handled the Customs and Immigration in style by openly handing out money and cartons of cigarettes, which allowed us to get on the way quickly in our brightly coloured 1951 model Pontiac. The car looked good, from a distance only, as the engine and gear box were crying for new parts and the hand brake consisted of a nicely polished handle with no cables attached.

Leaving Semarang through what used to be the upper class area was like a dream from pre war days, as houses and gardens were well kept and proudly displayed. For 80 kilometres we travelled across a beautiful tropical landscape with rice paddies on the flats and little villages further up in the hills. Up to 1000 metres the view was fascinating, both the “Tjipondok” and the “Tjiluwah” were anchored in the Bay. The properties that used to be the holiday resorts of the Dutch Colonials were abandoned and in a bad state.

The Borobudur is a Buddhist temple on the top of a hill, consisting of various plateaus and galleries with the history of Buddha sculptured in the rock wall. The whole structure is more than 2000 years old and it is not surprising that there has been a lot of damage done to the statues. Near the top are 72 domes each containing a different statue. The story was told that by touching one of those statues a wish could be granted to those who are really religious.

Once the whole Borobudur structure was covered by molten lava and dug out by the Dutch. It was and still is a major tourist attraction.

From there we went up another 1500 metres to Salatiga, following a narrow road through rubber and tea plantations, tobacco and quinine and eventually the coconut palm were replaced by pine trees. In Kopeng we were taken aback by the modern bungalows with their private pools and horse training tracks. The promised lunch was not what we had hoped for, no “rijsttafel”, just modern “take away” type dishes.

The way down the mountain was a pure experience of deep breathing and praying that the car would make it in one piece, everything went well and after the usual bargaining with the Authorities, we arrived back on board just after dark. Everything had been paid for by the RIL Agency.

26 July 1958 in Surabaya

This trip was even easier than the last, in and out of ports without fuss and working a great variety of goods. Kapok kernels in bulk and bundles of rattan filled parts of the lower hold and tween decks, bales of kapok neatly stowed high up in the wings and bags of spices on the hatches, drums containing an assortment of oils were stowed on deck. This was what a real cargo ship should always look like and offered a good learning experience to them, who took sailing seriously.

The RIL shore staff has been cut down to two men and all women had been sent to Singapore. It all started with the Area Manager deciding that it had become too dangerous for families to remain in Surabaya. To highlight his opinion he went first and on arrival in Hong Kong to report the situation he was promptly sacked. Both men left to hold the fort were previous seafaring people, who had recently resigned to be together with their families.

28 July in Makassar

From Surabaya we carried as passenger a high ranking Indonesian Army Officer, who was the official Controller of our Agencies. Stripped of the uniform we ended up with a very pleasant young man, educated in Holland with a degree in Economy and interesting to talk to. When we arrived he transformed very fast back into his role of being in command. However, the handshake and smile upon leaving us were genuine.

Arriving and departure Makassar was a test of seamanship as the channel swept free of mines was not very wide.

30 July 11958 in Balikpapan

This was my first visit and knowing how much our Captain wanted his Officers to do their own ship handling, I studied the charts and sailing directions very carefully. We anchored in the bay opposite the BPM refinery and their establishment. This was the place hat had been bombed by what were then called “rebels”, now better known as terrorists. The place was all but destroyed and an Indonesian warship and a Panamanian tanker were sunk. The “Tjiluwah” had also been in port when it happened, but escaped any damage as the leaders of the operation had used the ship as the command centre and had disappeared as soon as the firing stopped.

We were there to load 700 tons wax in bags and another 300 tons rattan, very thin strands filling a big space. In the bay was a small old cargo ship named “Papagajos”, sailing under the flag of Panama. Two Englishmen and an Australian Chief Officer invited themselves on board. The scruffy old one was the Master and the Australian the Mate. The ship was on a regular run between Surabaya and Balikpapan, sailing only when the holds were filled or the fists contained sufficient black money to make the crossing worth. They were looking for a Mate with qualifications as their papers were not recognised anywhere. Point-blank in front of JJGK, they offered me the job. The Australian Mate wanted to go on in the world, as he would not dare to return to Australia, for reasons of health. I refused the offer and Captain JJGK thought it was a privilege to boot them of his ship.

04 August 1958 in Belawan

Voyages in Indonesian waters are always very pleasant in good weather; on the “Tjipondok” the night shifts were also an escape from the hot accommodation. These ships were designed and built to cross the North Atlantic and the conditions prevailing on the northern latitudes, like stormy weather, snow and ice.

Celestial navigation in the area was not necessary, but you could not stop a RIL Mate to go for the sextant when an opportunity presented itself. Pinpointing the course to make a landfall within less than a mile was always a pleasure. We sailed past Singapore into our favourite waterway, the Malacca Straits, and felt we were home.

Arriving at the Roads of Belawan we were notified that cargo papers had been delayed and we were told to remain at anchor until further notice. The loading of 500 tons of rubber had to wait for a mere stamp from the Authorities. It became obvious that everywhere money had to change hands to get things done. That was only the start of what was later expected as common practice. However, it gave me the perfect space to work on the monthly wages and prepare myself for an eventual transfer.

Getting the right berth was another problem. The “Tjipondok” ended up a long way away from where the cargo was stacked and the access to the wharf had been severely damaged by a bomb attack on the ammunition depot next door. Even the labour force complained about making a hard job nearly impossible to perform. Somebody must have had received something as we had to shift ship and were swamped with labour to make up for lost time.

09 August 1958 in Singapore

On the latitude of Belawan the winds roll down the Bukit Barisan and force the monsoon rains to come down in tub loads from heaven, without any warning whatsoever. Just after midnight it started and it did not take long for my raincoat to become waterlogged and more a burden than a help outside on the look out for other craft. The Quartermaster arranged to get a towel and dry clothing from my cabin and I took the chance to change when the radar showed no more rain in sight. Not such luck as just before the end of my watch I got saturated again. Rather than stay around in sopping wet gear, I stripped and continued the watch in my underpants, keeping on the move and scanning the horizon in the usual fashion. The last downpour had woken Captain JJGK, who appeared on the bridge, but did not comment on my dress sense.

The reaction came at noon when I was on the bridge to certify the ship’s position, stating that he would also try to do a rain dance performance in his underwear to achieve a transfer to the Australia Service. Thereby he handed over the telegram with the words “van Weel transfer”, in typical RIL style short, sweet and not giving any details as to where to and when. Captain JJGK was one of the younger Captains waiting for a transfer to a ship calling at Sydney; he had not seen his wife for eleven months.

Arriving on the Eastern Quarantine Anchorage was the last time I was allowed to handle the ship on my own, subsequent Masters on following ships did not like to give away, that what they had been waiting for all their seagoing life. Further down stream was the “Tjiluwah” and my heart did a double turn before I realised that my seniority was nowhere to be allowing me to sail on that vessel. The “Nieuw Holland” was in the dry dock and also beyond my status on the list of Second Mates.

Upon berthing the RIL Agent stood where the aft ship would end up and told me that I would be transferred to the “Straat Johore”, which was not due for a few days. My replacement was the best man at our wedding, AJCV, who had not sailed as Second Mate before and was pleased to take over from a friend with a little more experience in the handling of wages for the Crew, which was a big job and a great responsibility. The Company mail contained two letters of appointment, first as Third Officer and secondly as Acting Second Officer, which meant a little difference in wages, but a great boost to the ego.

Now, 51 years later, I look back to my time on the “Tjipondok” as the best lesson in human relations and seamanship I ever received from superiors, which I wanted to pass on to others, but failed in the process, because of barriers that were built over time in the RIL and could not be removed.

s.s. NIEUW HOLLAND

09 August in Singapore

Waiting for the “Straat Johore” to arrive, I was given temporary accommodation in a first class cabin on the passenger ship “Nieuw Holland”, laying high and dry in the Singapore Dry Dock. Not very luxurious as water had been cut off, resulting in many walks to the amenities block about half a mile away. Well, beggars could not be choosers and I was on my way to a ship on the Australia Service.

Being employed to work there would be the norm for the RIL , but for the interference of Chief Officer WHS and the 2^nd Officer, GV, both married and living in Singapore, giving me ample time to get acquainted with the future home of my wife, which was reserved from 01 December 1958 onwards. They were both enthusiastically getting their wives involved in trying to obtain the furniture to fit out the unit. As the KPM personnel was being reduced there were a large number of families leaving the Dunearn Road Flats and they all had the problem of selling the furniture, which would not be suitable to take back to Europe. The advice was to wait and see what would become available and the wife of GV took immediate charge of the situation and made it clear that all the time I had spent window shopping in Hong Kong and Singapore had been an absolute waste of time.

The first lot on offer was from a KPM Chief Engineer, who had resigned. The ladies knew all about it and described everything with the advice to jump on the purchase as it was a real bargain. Everything was less than two years old and we could not go wrong. All the excitement came to nothing when we found out that she had sold out to someone else, after she had promised to give me the first option. The ladies were joined by a few others and were quick to wipe the disappointment by saying that it was typical furniture for older people and not suitable for us. To make a long story short, there came another lot available, which turned out to be more suitable and the wife of GV put the pressure on and helped me to buy everything for 1100 Singapore Dollars. Without knowing my wife, she acted like an old friend of the family and even organised the storage and the eventual move to our unit, which was fully set up when Mieke arrived from Australia in December. The two girls became and remained good friends.

The “Nieuw Holland” moved out of dry dock to a berth, from where she departed to the Anchorage with full fanfare as she had a high ranking Australian VIP on board. On the wharf a Scottish pipe band of the Ghurkha Regiment and tugboats giving a demonstration of their fire fighting equipment. The departure to Tandjung Priok was delayed until the next day and to give the Singapore husbands another night ashore, I had to remain on board to fulfil the regulated crew complement, although I was not signed on.

The farewell parties continued on the Anchorage with the atmosphere getting rough and the noise out of hand just before it was time for the visitors to be physically bundled on board the KPM agency boats. I stayed in the 1^st class cabin and was woken up by an intoxicated lady stumbling in and announcing that she just “got rid of the silly old beggar” and needed some company. I took her to her cabin and found a very young child in there, looking lost and crying softly. Thankfully the Purser was available to handle the situation with more tact than I could gather due to his experiences in the field of people management.

The Agent picked me up in the morning and I spend the remaining nights in the Seaman’s Mission.

m.v. STRAAT JOHORE

17 August 1958 in Singapore

The wait was over and now I had a ship on the Australia Service. She was looking good from the outside, clean and neat as only a new ship could be. I did realise before coming on board that I would never experience an atmosphere again as there was on the “Tjipondok”, because that had been really too good to be true. Also, the knowledge that Captain CHG was in command was enough to anticipate the worst, due to the time and troubles I have had with him on the “Tjitjalengka” during my last term in the ASAS. The rumour going around that he would be transferred back to that service because his new wife lived in Durban was a small consolation.

Getting the first meeting over and done with came with a big surprise. Politely knocking on the Master’s door I was welcomed like an old friend with: “Hello Hans, take a chair, it is so nice that you have come to sail with me”. After that came some small talk to make me feel at home.

That over and done with I presented myself to the Chief Officer, PJM, whom I had never heard of, the reason of which was that our paths had never crossed and he was not a type people would gossip about. The first impression was a pleasant, overweight man, with a non-identity appearance, a sly smile and a wet and weak handshake. Showing off his seniority I ended up on duty on deck and had to use the meal hours of the shore labour to take over from the leaving 2^nd Officer, who had resigned from the RIL.

The division of the top three in the hierarchy was quite obvious. The Chief Engineer was well known around the fleet as a grumpy old bastard and the face of the Chief Officer would become flushed only by thinking of the other two. The RIL Service Regulations were regarded as The Bible, not just a guideline; everyone was expected to know the details.

The “Straat Johore” was a lovely vessel, launched just over one year before and equipped with all the latest gadgets. Air conditioning on board of a ship was something new to me. The 2^nd Officer’s cabin looked like a palace, than there were large bathroom amenities, spacious living and deck areas and a dining room, that could compete with any passenger ship. Everything was so new, neat and clean, that you would stand and wipe your shoes for half an hour, when coming up from the main deck. The bed is made up with a blanket, which was well warranted as the air conditioning ran all the time and performed best during the night. A cold cabin to wake up in and the big contrast when coming outside the accommodation took some time to get used to.

19 August 1958 Singapore to Malacca

My first bridge watch was the midnight shift after leaving port and it did not take long to get accustomed to the very spacious size of the bridge, compared to the “Tjipondok”. The RIL bridges on both the “Straat Banka” and “Straat Johore” were similar and it was not hard to adjust to the layout and equipment available, but I had again to remember the restrictions that were made by Captains like CHC. He was actually acting like the proud owner of a new pup and wanted me to get the same feeling. That went down well.

24 August in Penang

The Malacca, Port Swettenham and Penang visits were spent by being on deck according to the RIL habits to make sure all working hours were used, even if completely wasted. The discharge of flour in bags was not very interesting and the fact that the labour would do their own thing anyway, made our job a questionable routine that had imbedded itself into the RIL way of life that was impossible to change from my level. That was when I had to remember that I had to change my thinking and just grin and bear what was offered, as I was a married man with commitments to a family and heavily in debt to the RIL for the cost of study leave and the payment of the passage of my wife on the “Oronsay”. Even the pressure to take on the cargo stowage from the Chief Officer became an interesting but strange proposition that I appreciated, but for the knowledge that each day was only 24 hours.

03 September in Bombay

The voyage from Penang to Bombay was my real introduction to the “Straat Johore” as far as the ship itself was concerned. The telegram to proceed at full speed to Bombay to arrive there before a certain time was obliged to in typical RIL fashion, without taking into consideration the environment we sailed in. We were lucky with fine weather, but too much stability made her act like a young buck, rolling and pitching and even taking spray on deck in the slight seas. The cabins in this ship have no port holes but big wide windows, lower above the deck than normal. Sitting at my desk I would look straight out to the horizon and with the movement of the ship over the portside, the sea would come straight at you and you would automatically pull up your legs to prevent getting wet feet. With that you would loose your balance and fall face first on the desk, until you became used to it.

The corrections to Charts and Sailing Directions were not up to date as the huge parcel containing all the information had been following the ship around the Australian Coast, only to catch up in Penang. Calling at Hong Kong had the advantage of always having the latest information supplied immediately.

06 September in Bombay

What started as a high speed operation to get to Bombay ended in a fizzer because the cargo was not available, that was the explanation we received, whilst the truth most likely was that the competition had won that race. Than it started again and we had to work around the clock to achieve a deadline, which one we would never know. The 4^th Officer, CO, was fully occupied with the cleaning and testing of the two deep tanks, both to be filled with 800 tons of linseed oil, leaving the other cargo work to be divided between two men, the 3^rd Officer, FB, and me. Hence there was no time to get re-acquainted with the place I had many memories of in my last term.

Departure out of the little docks was the usual shambles because of the segregated pilot service for inside the dock, the river and the expert to get the ship through the narrow lock system. They all three arrived separately at different intervals and before commencing had to catch up with the latest gossip or whatever, which took place in a loud and fast Indian language, that was always associated with the shaking of the heads and the waving of the arms.

09 September Cochin and Alleppey

En route from Bombay the weather could not have been better, with the sea like a mirror and clear skies, typical the end of the south east monsoon. Every morning the Wireless Operator, JP, would come by to pass the message that he had listened to Sydney Radio for any telegrams for this ship, but there was nothing to report. Our baby was expected mid September and I had made sure people were aware of the anticipated event. Wireless Operator, JP took on the extra work and listen to Sydney Radio to keep me informed. In the end he spent more time in the creation of this child than I did.

On the midnight shift the Captain let me do my own navigation to take the ship to the entrance of Cochin and when eventually coming on the bridge he acted very casual, more like a spectator than the man in command, just letting me do the work to all but anchor the ship, awaiting Pilotage. It seemed times had changed and we had both grown up.

Notwithstanding having been working the whole 00.00 to 04.00 shift, the full compliment of Officers were called out to moor he the ship in Cochin, which would have been unheard of on the “Tjipondok”. This was followed by a full day on deck till 18.00 and followed by the midnight shift which was extended to 06.00. It was a surprise that I was not needed for the departure at 09.00 hours. A lot of overtime went on the books.

Just one hour down the coast was the little town called Alleppey, the agriculture centre of the area with a huge coir matting industry. Large broad seagoing lighters were loaded off the beach and pulled alongside by motorboats, carrying the loudest Indian labour force you can imagine. As there was no weight in the almighty large bundles of cargo coming over the rail, they handled them like toys, laughing and spitting, covering the ship in dark red betel nut sap.

12 – 27 September 1958 in Colombo

The Pilot boat brought the mail and the message that we were to stay out on the Anchorage until further notice, with the prediction that the waiting period could be more than two weeks. There were at least twenty other cargo ships ahead of us. To get ahead in the queue we would have to forego the discharge for a load only and over carry all the imports for discharge in another port. However, the mail had become my first priority, just imagining how my wife had to bring a child into this world on her very own, was a worry, I did not mind sharing my thoughts with whoever wanted to be part of it. I must have driven the others around the bend.

Sea watches continued and only consisted of taking anchor bearings and keeping an open eye on the signal station ashore. There were no pirates in those days, although Captain CHG had visions that that could happen.

Just after midnight the signal station came to life and wanted us to come inside the harbour and was not pleased to hear we needed some time to prepare for the move, threatening that we could loose the priority that was offered. Never ever was a merchant ship as quick to get ready as when “action stations” had been broadcast on a war ship. After all that, work would not commence for two days, because of the week end.

That gave us the opportunity to go ashore, where we ended up on the beach at the Mount Lavinia Beach, the first break in the seagoing experience since coming aboard the “Straat Johore”. I felt quite safe not to miss out on news about the pregnancy news of my wife as the Wireless Operator, JP, was with us. Looking at the bikini clad ladies had always been an educational entertainment for young males in general and seafarers were no exception, there was no shortage of talent running around the beach. The sight of a pregnant young lady took my mind away from the scene to Tasmania.

Back on board we had a Chinese dinner, followed by the performance of the “Band”. A tea chest had been made into a one string instrument, boxes transformed into drums and a guitar was the only true musical appendage. The tune would be played and the song would be sung in whatever note available, the sound loud and happy, bringing smiles on the faces of not only the performers, but even the Captain, who wisely did not comment. I can not remember why beer was rationed to two bottles a person, but whisky and gin were available for mixed drinks.

One week in Colombo and we had not even started work, the labour was either going on strike or just stay away from the allocated jobs, not surprising that there were so many ships out on the Anchorage.

Realising Mieke was past the “due by” date I started to panic, first only when the mind was not active, but soon it became a full time job, which must have been horrible for the people around me. I was either looking for the Agency launch to get mail or pestering the Wireless Operator about listening in to Scheveningen Radio for telegraphic news. In the end JP did not dare to go ashore, without comforting me with the idea that he would not miss a session during that time. Even the Captain seemed to be getting in the act, showing that he was human after all. He gave a hand made pewter cocktail set that must have been a gift he had received some time ago and it still being cursed today, because it always demanded a lot of polishing to look good. That move was appreciated. My nerves were shot and that did not alter the situation at all. Even confirmation of a chosen name for the baby would be a welcome distraction to the waiting for something to happen so far away. The fact that “normal” husbands would not understand what it is to have never seen your wife pregnant was a seafarer’s special that for me was solved with the birth of our fourth child 10 years later. The probabilities of complications were highlighted by stories being related as well meant by the married men on board, just another thing to worry about. And so the time rolled by. There were more “sing-alongs” and slide shows to break the long days of waiting for things to happen, both in Tasmania and on board as far as the cargo work was concerned. When work commenced it was either only with one gang for one shift, a little bit here and there. The sailing schedule was non existent as priorities and possibilities came and disappeared and status quo remained.

A trip to Kandi, organised by the Mission to Seaman gave us a break. In those days Kandi was the actual and spiritual capital of Ceylon and a well known tourist destination. Together with crewmembers from other ships we proceeded in a very old and noisy bus on over inflated tyres in the pouring rain, with the driver desperately trying to stay out of the potholes in the road. Three times we had to stop to pick up the windshield wiper, which had fallen of. In the end the driver gave up and opened the front window, with the result we were all getting sopping wet. But that did not dampen the spirit and soon we were singing internationally known seaman shanties. After three hours on the road we stopped in the Botanical Gardens and enjoyed the scenery more than the attached museum. After that to the “Temple of Tooth”, where we learned that the whole structure was built over one single tooth, Buddha had lost there during his wanderings in the area. Along the river to a place were elephants were being shown off as a way of making money. For one rupiah he would kneel to allow you to climb on board, followed by an act of standing on his hind legs and resting his front legs on a coconut tree. The highlight of the trip was the cold Heineken beer in the hotel sitting under the shade in a typical colonial style garden setting.

Back on board we found the latest instructions from RIL to ensure arrival in Penang before the end of September, even if it meant either short shipping or over carrying cargo. That was one sure way to get out of the mess in Colombo and nobody objected to the fact that we were getting back to the routine of being on a line service going from one port to the next. On Saturday, 27 September 1958, we sailed and made Penang just in time, only to be advised to proceed full speed to Singapore as the regulations about the discharge of overcarried cargo in another port had been changed since our departure. Now we had to discharge and tranship the lot directly to another ship bound for Colombo, which could only happen in Singapore. We arrived on the Eastern Anchorage on 01 October 1958, the day my first son was born.

03 October 1958 in Singapore

It was to be a busy time for the 2^nd Officer of this ship with the end of the month wages calculations in Singapore, the home port on this service, and the transfer of the Command between two senior Captains, CHG and LR. There was paperwork everywhere as all forms had to be completed before signatures and copies prepared for RIL HK. Captain CHG knew how to keep me on my toes as a certain amount of his information had to come from me. To lighten his burden he choose me as an excuse to have a few extra drinks and even became concerned enough about my future to enlighten me with the contents of my conduct statement, he had just completed for RIL HK. It was all good with the exception of the reminder of the “Tjitjalengka” incident, that I still had a problem accepting criticism from superiors, when I thought it was not warranted. It was good that he admitted to have outgrown the same problem himself and advised me to let things go past and to just to go with the flow, with that hitting the nail on the head. Unfortunately, I never changed and eventually it did become part of the end of my seafaring carrier.

At half past midnight I was woken up by noises in the passage way, loud and excited voices, the cabin door was opened and JP, the Wireless Operator, announcing that at long last the baby had arrived and that I was the father of a son. He brought in two telegrams, one from Tasmania and one from Holland, both secured for delivery to the receiver, who could not open it because the loss of control due to the nerves. JP did the honours and read them out to me, at least twice before it dawned what the contents entailed. My reaction must have been weird as there were no words to say and all I could do was to let the tears run and cry for the happiness and the relief that the wait was over. Whoever had not been sound asleep was by now was fully awake and immediately available to partake in the drinks the old night steward had brought upstairs, without the usual complaints of serving alcohol in the middle of the night. Everyone had felt the pressure of the coming event and was glad it was now over; they must have thought that four weeks of living with a nervous wreck had been long enough and the knowledge to get back to normal was worth a drink.

To celebrate the arrival of my son I had asked The Captain’s permission for a happy hour in the saloon, which became a great success, even the Chief Engineer and his 2^nd appeared and showed sufficient compassion to make it a happy occasion. They either did it for me or they were celebrating the transfer of the Captain, it could have been both. From 17.00 till 19.00 we enjoyed ourselves, with JP playing the guitar and the sing-songs suitably being worked around lyrics like ”Oh mein Papa” etc.

06 October 1958 in Singapore

Captain LR came on board and with that I was reunited with the man I looked up to and had called my “Sea Father”. A firm handshake and a grin was enough to acknowledge the fact that we both knew each other well and would still respect and understand each other; he was that type of person. I had sailed with him on the “Straat Banka” in 1954 as junior 4^th Officer.

Whilst all the excitement of becoming a father for the first time was celebrated more than once, cargo work had gone ahead 24 hours a day, with me doing my usual midnight and afternoon shifts. Somewhere I found the time to go ashore and organise the purchase of all the fittings for our new unit in Singapore, buying a complete household setting from a retiring Chief Engineer, whose wife was a fastidious housewife and wanted to clean everything, before putting it in place in our unit, which was already empty and awaiting the arrival of my wife from Tasmania. The sale was sealed by a handshake as I had not one single cent in my name with the RIL. The transfers of money between Australia and Singapore were easily arranged and the Local Bank was quite willing to give credit to a person, committed to the RIL and contracted to live in Singapore. A visit to the Personnel Department in the KPM Office confirmed that all systems had been set in motion for the preparation of a two bedroom unit in the building at 214 Dunearn Road, nicknamed the “Hunker-bunker’.

When we departed from Singapore, I was not only the father of a son, but also the lease holder of fully furbished accommodation in Singapore.

08 October 1958 in Tandjung Priok

The relief to be on the way to Australia was a welcome change. So was the new leadership of Captain LR, who managed the ship without interfering into the itemised performance of the individual, rather giving guidance instead of constantly correcting where needed. Arriving on an anchorage, he would appear on the bridge when the ship was nearly there and often no additional people were necessary to drop the pick, just the Officer of the watch to go to the fo’c’sle, with the Captain handling telegraph and timesheets. Tandjung Priok was the first port of call made that way on my watch.

Things had become quiet in Indonesia, the cargo was there but again no paperwork available and when we went alongside the berth, there was no labour allocated anyway. The RIL still had ships sailing in the region, apart from the “Tji” ships on the China/Japan service, the India/Australia vessels and both the “Tjiwangi” and “Tjiluwah” still visited the major ports.

21 October 1958 in Brisbane

From Tandjung Priok to Brisbane is roughly 3500 nautical miles or nearly 6500 kilometres, sailing mainly in calm clear waters along the 8 degree southern parallel, north of the island of Java to the most eastern tip of Flores, before heading for the Torres Strait, the entrance to the Great Barrier Reef. For me this was like coming home in the waters where I spent most of the first term with the RIL.

On the night of departure the “Straat Johore” was part of a Dutch radio program called: “The ship of the week”, where family members were invited to the studio to record their greetings and messages to the relatives on board of a ship, rarely calling in Dutch home ports. We had received advance notice in Singapore and all concerned were packed into the cabin of JP, the Wireless Operator, who had the best receiver. I was the first to receive congratulations from my mother and elder sister, for both the new son and my upcoming birthday, together with a reminder that my driving licence needed to be renewed. In that way each had a turn to a listen to and hear a voice from home.

My birthday was when we were doing double watches in the Barrier Reef. As with all birthdays at sea, they are not only an excuse to get a free drink, but also an opportunity to show a member of the little family on board that you want to share that life with him, it created a camaraderie if nothing else.

This voyage we were taking a Dutch Chief Cook to Sydney, from where he was to sail on the cargo ships, checking, upgrading and teaching the Chinese cooks on the ships, which would not call into Hong Kong. We had the first taste and soon people were complaining, not being able to button up their trousers as they were getting too fat.

The more relaxed atmosphere on board had changed the habits of the Chief Officer PJM, who instead staying on his own in his cabin, now payed regular visits. Whilst Captain CHG had already warned me that a flying visit from Melbourne to Tasmania would be unfair towards the other Officers and be frowned upon by the RIL, Captain RL wanted to know what I had done towards organising the flight across Bass Strait. Then he volunteered to approach RIL Sydney to do the organising in such way that I could walk off the ship in Melbourne as soon as possible and return on the last available flight. That really showed the difference in personalities.

25 October 1958 in Sydney

The high swell of the southern Pacific Ocean was not welcome by people who had been sailing on still, glassy waters. It takes a few trips on the North Atlantic to learn to anticipate the movement of the ship you are sailing on. Here it only happened occasionally and the result was a Crew going about their duties like drunken chooks, having terrible troubles to stay upright. With that the temperatures went down and we changed into blue uniforms, which always looked more uncomfortable after the light and clean whites.

After mooring alongside in Sydney we heard a delighted cheer from the waiting “wharfies” when JP rushed ashore to greet his fiancée in good style. She had travelled to Sydney by train and planned to settle there.

My return to Australia after more than two years gave me a good feeling. The shore labour supervisors had known me as a junior in the past and remembered my antics, like getting older and experienced Australian labour to do things in a different way, like stowing bags of flour with either the brands up or down, to separate the different lots. They even remembered calling me “Brands” instead of Hans. Being married and having a son went down well and gave me another status in their eyes.

The weekend in Australia was still recognised as a period important to the private life, with all work stopping at noon on Saturday and unless very urgent not recommencing till the following Monday. That meant that everyone not necessary on board would disappear and the ship would become as quiet as a morgue. My turn was to come in Melbourne and whenever possible I would volunteer to remain on board and take on all duty shifts.

Captain LR had his wife on board and contrary to the younger brigade; they spent most time in the saloon, rather than in his cabin. That did give his wife a chance to meet the junior Officers and she turned out to be good company, as she took interest in other people and their problems. The Captain must have been let down a few times and had learned the RIL lesson to adhere strictly to the Company Service Regulations, all nine parts of them, covering everything that could happen on board of the ships. He would pay special attention to the dress and Officer Attitude regulations and did not allow the Officer on duty to be out of uniform.

True to his word my airplane ticket for the passage from Melbourne to Hobart was delivered on board, together with personal instructions from the big boss, JH, about whom in Melbourne to approach and what action was required on my part. How good was that?

28 October to 09 November 1958 from departure Sydney to the return at sea after Melbourne

It would have been quite obvious to the outsider looking at the life of van Weel, with the nerves of the anticipated visit to his wife and new one month old son taking control; I was just living in a trance and doing my work in motion of experience. If we had encountered storms or even ice bergs, it would not have been able to dampen the excitement of that period. The reporting had to be recorded in a visual way.

The above pictures were part of the story of a couple and their first son, meeting again where boy met girl in 1955 for the first time and life had only just started for the young family.

Then, it would have been impossible to have looked in the crystal ball and cover the 51 years ahead.

12 November 1958 in Adelaide

Back at sea, sailing between Melbourne and Adelaide, I had still not returned to the reality of being back in my own world. I had spent a few days on a different planet, neither of us knew that it existed, but people living ashore would have taken for granted: the start of family life.

The flight across Bass Strait had been a rather rough and the old lady, sitting a few rows ahead of me, did not agree with the fact that she had to grin and bear it. After all, she had paid out a great deal of money for that trip and then, when she wanted a bit more fresh air, the flight crew were so nasty to refuse winding down the window just a little way, so she would feel better.

Mrs Captain could not get enough of my description of our son and wanted to know all about our approaches to the meeting, as if to get the feeling of an experience, she never had, as their long marriage had not produced any children.

In Adelaide we copped a solid south-westerly storm, which produced more than the two drops of rain, required by the wharfies to call for the work to be stopped, the McGregor hatches closed and all men to head for the nearest pub. This took us into an extended stay and the opportunity to have a look at Adelaide, known as “the City of Churches”. Actually, it was a well planned and modern place, cleaner than the other main cities. As a married man your perception of the environment had also changed: in my bachelor days I would not have taken in what was on offer, if not young and female.

A 5 year old gelding had been loaded on deck for the voyage to Singapore and put on stud duties. The beautiful horse, called “South of France” had been a good money maker in Australia and as such worth a lot of money. When the storms kept on coming over in ever increasing intensity, the poor animal became very restless and we were afraid he might hurt himself. Therefore, 4^th Officer CO and I had taken it upon us to look after him; a lesson to be learned was never to volunteer. In weather when the average Australian would ask for “danger money”, we took turns to stand in his box on deck and talk sweet nothings to him, in the effort to calm him down. The end result was great, his head on your shoulder and a very wet muzzle in your face.

17 November 1958 from Adelaide to Fremantle

In between the periods of bad rains we did manage to complete the cargo work and had to consider leaving the basin, where we were blocked in by two other vessels, eventually leaving for Fremantle, after two days of waiting for a change in the weather. Each morning the Pilot, Harbour Master and Agent would arrive to make joint assessment of the situation. Captain LR had the habit of shaking his head, when he concentrating. It was a good thing that the others knew him well as the answer on what he was thinking about departure, was always answered with a negative shake of the head, before he would speak.

Then we were wondering what conditions we would encounter in the Bight. It was not too bad for the time of the year, but the past storms had created big seas that caused the ship roll up to 30 degrees over both sides and pitch as well, besides the temperature was dropping below 10 degrees Celsius, which did not cater for a leisure crossing.

The horse took it badly and refused to eat, until we found out that it was only a show he put up, as long as we were in the box with him he would happily munch on the fodder, we had prepared, keeping a weary eye on the entrance which he quickly blocked if made moves to leave.

Approaching Cape Leeuwin on the south east point of Western Australia, it started to blow up to Beaufort force 8 and the seas increased as well. Past experience had proved that things would only to get better when we had gone around and were sailing on a northerly course. Not this time. The culmination of wind and currents had formed an unstable condition in the sea level, which caused the ship to fall in a hole, only to rise and repeat the performance. Then everything went just back to the rolling and pitching, without giving us the expected improvement. Although just after 03.20 on my watch, Captain LR and all the Officers had come up to the bridge to see what had happened. Once before on the “Tjitjalengka” near Madagascar I had experienced something similar, which was said to be a Tsunami, except we then rolled to over 60 degrees either way and the seas were smooth. The damage in the cabins was unbelievable as everything that was not secured had moved.

20 November 1958 in Fremantle

It was good to be alongside the wharf, the salt was washed of the super structure and the ship did not show any sign of having been in bad weather. That would not last long as after two days of cargo work, all was made seaworthy for the voyage to Singapore and the embarkation of 1100 sheep, to be placed in pens on the main deck. The forecast of a cyclone near Christmas Island gave some reason of concern, but did not change the situation as there was no return. The animals were offloaded from road trucks and pooled on the wharf, before herded up special gangways, to be settled in rather overcrowded timber pens. Too much space would allow them to fall over in only slight seas and unable to get a grip on the steel deck, they would be trampled to death. Apart from the counting there were Agricultural Inspectors checking the gender, so that only castrated rams were exported. The finding of two ewes among them was a bonus for the Chinese crew, who were allowed to slaughter the animals and keep the meat on board. Quarantine Regulations would have prevented taking the beasts of the ship, as they were already contaminated by just stepping on the deck. The boatswain later gave us a feast of mutton satay and peanut sauce. Captain LR thought it disgraceful, that a person married to an Australian would eat mutton.

27 November 1958 in Singapore

Leaving Fremantle the temperature was 12 degrees and only two days later we recorded 30 degrees, causing people to have trouble adjusting before the Java Sea would offer 30 degrees in the shade. The expected cyclone had diminished into an ordinary deep low and did not have any effect on the voyage to Singapore; there were no problems on the “farm”, other than the constant stream of droppings and urine flowing from the scuppers overboard, only to be whipped up over the whole ship. It would disperse so fine that you did not notice being sprayed, only by looking what had happened to your nice clean white uniform, discolouring slowly and eventually taking on the penetrating smell.

Early morning arrival in Singapore and because of the animals there was no delay at the Anchorage. Sailing close to passenger ships, we would often hear a cheer from the Australians on board of those ship, as our smelly Noah’s Ark would let them have the instant memory of home when the pungent odour had reached them,

Singapore was ready for us and the end of this chapter.

28 November 1958 in Singapore

Immediately after berthing preparations were made to disembark the sheep, the logistics ashore had been organised in a way that the animals would be herded via specially rigged gangways on the wharf and straight into trucks, standing by to take them to the abattoir. Then the cleaning gangs of Mr Ah Fatt would get into action and dismantle and discharge all the timber pens and solids, whilst dried droppings and straw went over the side of the ship. Before long all the scuppers on the waterside were opened and splash boards were rigged over the quay side and the decks were hosed down with the residue browning Keppel Harbour over a large distance. The current had done the clean up work and after that the ship only needed a bath. Modern Quarantine Regulation people would now shiver by that idea, whilst Organic Growers could have done wonders with that stuff to improve their products.

There was little time to wonder about all that as, without further notice, 23 crewmembers had to be transferred immediately. Since my midnight watch and arrival duties had nearly filled a day’s work, only then did I have time to calculate and record the men’s earnings and pay them out accordingly. I was lucky to have good system and a reliable adding machine. The people working ashore from nine to five always forget that on board of the ships there is more work to be done than listening and obeying to their commands. However, we had to live and learn and survived, that evening I would be on deck till 23.00 as there were no midnight shifts ordered.

To get away of the smell of sheep still hanging around the ship we went ashore in the afternoon, we, being JP the WO, FJB the 3^rd Officer and I. To celebrate arrival in the East we started with an old fashioned Indonesian “rijsttafel” in Café Rendez Vous for the formidable price of Str $ 9 per person, which should have been followed by a little sleep, but there were things to do. I had to go to the Consul to renew my driving licence and inquire into the requirements of living in Singapore, which was a waste of time as the KPM had already done that. Next was the NHM, the Dutch Trading Bank, where they were not only very helpful, but also happy to pass on the latest scandals and local news.

As the KPM had been stopped from trading in Indonesia, people had been sacked on a great scale. They would face a hard time in Holland, where the Dutch Shipping was in recession and qualified ship’s Officers were begging for work. At the same time the RIL expanded and were building four new ships, the ”Straat Cumberland, Chatham, Clarence and Clement” were ready to come into service.

At the KPM Office I made a nuisance of myself by wanting to know the “state of the Nation” i.e. preparations made to ensure my wife had help, when she arrived from Australia on the Nieuw Holland. As if they had never done that before, but managed to satisfy me and keep a straight face.

Another visit to the flat in 214 Dunearn Court to arrange payment for the goods we had bought from a retiring Chief Engineer, also completely unnecessary as I could have done that via the KPM after all. But it settled additional items, like taking over the services of the Amah for Str $ 70 per month. She would clean, wash and iron and often cook as well; she had a good service record and indeed turned out to be a great help, not withstanding she did not speak any English. The ladies I met on previous occasions had agreed to help during the settling in period, some with the alternative motive to add to the quantity and quality of their gossip.

11 December 1958 in Bombay

The voyage from Singapore to Bombay went with calls at Malacca, Port Swettenham and Penang in an orderly fashion with little to report. The reason for that turned out to be that no mail ever reached home. Later in Colombo, the others, who had given their letters to the Agent to be mailed, received news from home that various letters were missing. In a similar fashion most of us would number their letters in a way to keep track of them. Sometimes a letter might miss the ship, only to be forwarded to the next port or even worse, miss that as well and turn up weeks later to be accounted for. Our mail from Bombay had been dumped and the money for the stamps was gone. Although RIL HK was advised, the letters never turned up.

In this story there would be other times without a report of happenings, like when in the homeport or travelling together on the ship, when feelings could be expressed in a different way.

Upon arrival me had missed the one and only opportunity for that day to get through the small locks into Victoria Dock and had to wait at anchor. Again the cargo was not ready and no time was lost. When eventually docked I had the opportunity to go ashore with JP the WO, to do some window shopping for carpets.

First stop was the GPO, where you not only bought the required stamps and attached them to the article to be mailed, but waited and witnessed them duly stamped, otherwise they would been removed and used again, with your card or letter ending up in the wastepaper basket. JP was doing his Christmas mail and it did take some time.

Then up to the Carpet Palace, where we were served cold lemon squash and two obedient servants rolled out the goods for our perusal. Like Pasha’s of the past we had a ball, which took too long as we were only looking for what was on offer and with 10 rupees in your pocket, there was no way to buy anything.

After that came a place called the “Bargain Store” to search for linen and towels, where I was very fast to learn the various qualities of fibres and stitches.

This was followed by a visit to a Medical Practitioner in the middle of Bombay City where we arrived in one piece thanks to the taxi diver of the ancient Morris and his skill to weave his way though the crowds without killing anybody. The old building stank of urine, escaping from a blocked and overflowing toilet near the entrance to the stairs to the first floor, where there was a pharmacy and waiting room for the masses. I was ever so pleased to get out of that place.

A quick visit to the “Breach Candy” swimming pool washed all the Bombay grit of our bodies. The pool was a “white” people only, full of females of the British BI shipping company personnel, whose husbands were at sea. The photo shows a few of us on the wharf waiting for our taxi to take us to the swimming pool on a different occasion. Significant are the little hydraulic cranes, working on water pressure and using oiled chains, which constantly sprayed drops of oil all over the place. To move a crane involved a whole crew of Indians, disconnecting before the move and reconnecting various length of pipe when in place over the new location.

In the meantime I had another patient to administer penicillin injections to, as the Chief Officer PJM, was quite happy to hand that over to me. The first victim had been one of the Officers after departure Fremantle, which reminded me of the problems of Chief Officer BdH on the “Tjipondok”, only worse because I was a slow learner and the seas were rather rough. Captain LR walked in on the scene finding two his Officers in one cabin, with one standing with his trousers dropped, only to leave quickly and shaking his head and wondering what was going on when PJM appeared to explain the situation. That person ended up with two purple swollen cheeks but had survived the ordeal and I was determined to do better next time.

However, with the transfer of a few of the Engineers, the intake of alcohol had increased and Captain LR was getting more strict, following the Company Regulations to the letter and holding me responsible for the antics of the junior staff in the mess room and even beyond that.

There was not sufficient cargo available to warrant working during the weekend and more time was spent in “Breach Candy”, where the rest of Bombay white residents had the same idea. It was good to be out and mix with other people, compare life styles and consider yourself a lucky person to have the freedom to do so. Even the Captain and Chief Officer ventured in that direction, but were not impressed because there were too many children and it was far too noisy. That actually was the start of the change in the atmosphere on board. Noise became the biggest thing that could affect the human race.

On the Sunday everyone, not required on board would be in breach Candy and I had asked the Chief Steward to swap the traditional Sunday Nassi Lunch with dinner, for the juniors only. That was not a problem by itself, but not appreciated by the Captain, because it was not following the regulated way to live on a RIL ship.

The boys came back on board and were appreciating the big meal; they had a great day in the pool and had met people of the cast, performing in the production of “Holiday on Ice”. They required permission, which was granted for a late night gathering here on board, after they had finished their show performance. There was a Dutch man and his Australian wife, I had seen performing in the production called “Rosemarie on Ice” in Brisbane in 1955, an Austrian, two English and two American girls, all packed into the 2^nd Engineers cabin. The start was good and a lively bunch of young people communicating happily. With the intake of alcohol the noise became louder, but could not have reached two decks up. The Chinese spies had reported all movements in and out of various cabins to the Chief Steward, who in turn advised the Captain. That really was the end of the world and of course the 2^nd Officer had to front. There was little room for reasoning when I tried to defend the actions of men under the age of 25 in a strict environment, I should have been patrolling and keeping the party under control. Amen.

22 December 1958 in Colombo

Back to Bombay where things went back to normal with the arrival of the cargo to be loaded and on the available opportunity we left the confines of the dock and were soon in open waters on the way to Cochin. The swimming had become a habit and before long we tried the facilities of the Malabar Hotel for a quick dip in a small pool filled with coloured soupy water. It provided the excuse for a cold drink and a walk on terra firma.

The next port Alleppey, the home of the coir matting industry would have been a good place to acquire floor coverings for the unit in Singapore, but anchored 5 nautical miles of the coast is not an easy spot to go window shopping. I had asked the Agent, who was employed by the coir manufacturing company, to get me a catalogue to give me the idea of prices. Instead, upon departure a dark green carpet sized, 9 x 12 feet, was delivered with “Compliments and Good Luck”, only requesting a signature for receipt. I gave the boys a carton of American Lucky Strike and four tins of English Player cigarettes in return, which apparently was all received in good order by the Agent.

The arrival in Colombo started with a party to celebrate the 3^rd Engineer’s birthday, which was bound to get out of hand because of the weekend no cargo work was performed and people off duty were all available and happy to get even with the Captain.

The ship’s chronometer was playing up and needed an overhaul. The Agent arrived to pick it up, but he presented himself to the Captain, who insisted that according to Rule whatever, the 2^nd Officer had to accompany this instrument, which before the advent of GPS and radio telecommunications, was one of the most important parts of the navigation.

Instead of making the most of the trip ashore I could not get back on board quick enough. The riots in town, with people en masse and banners, fireworks, police and army, rock throwing thugs were filling the streets.

On the way back in the launch of Aitken Spence & Co, I met the 2^nd Mate of an English ship, here to load 7000 tons of cargo. They had been on the Anchorage for one week, now on the buoy for 24 hours to fill up their fresh water tanks, and then back out to the Roads for at least 6 weeks, before coming back in. Approximately 6 month stay in Colombo was the norm.

Cargo work was governed by strikes and the non appearance of rostered gangs and proceeded very slowly, compared to others we had no reason to complain.

The Wireless Operator, JP, went down with fever, abnormal high temperatures and dizzy spells, according to the doctor due to the lack of vitamins. That was not a good advertisement for the food on the ship and I was up in arms facing the Captain.

31 December 1958 in Colombo

The bomb did burst on Christmas Day, when there was no traditional “Kerst brood” – Christmas bread, on the table and I inquired the Chief Steward for the reason, which was to be by order of the Captain, because he thought we had not earned the privilege and that the standard Christmas Dinner would be affected as well. His problem was that I had also studied the small print of the Regulations for the Catering Department, where examples of Christmas meals were outlined. With that I am afraid to admit that once again my temperament took over and I duly did my block. Whatever had happened to our Captain to change was and is still a mystery, but I really had enough. The end result paid off.

Dinner in formal dress had been unusual, but we all played ball. The junior brigade wearing their “Toetoep”- number ten, uniform for the first time and older ones complaining the whole thing had shrunk over all, but with more concern to the width of the trousers. All my uniforms were borrowed by different people to ensure to front up in the required dress. The initial fun of dressing up was dampened by the request from upstairs, to tone down, which spoiled it before the start. What could have been a special event was nearly spoiled before it even started. It was good see the people were bigger than the narrow-mindedness of their leaders and the whole night was not a wasted effort. There were no complains on Boxing Day, only a few very sore heads.

Whilst the dinner was on I was on deck duty, chomping on chicken legs in the galley and picking morsels from plates returning from the dining room, even I had no complaints.

That day the Dutch passenger ship “Oranje” departed and I knew the people on board and as a token I went up and hoisted the signal flags “WAY”, the code fore wishing them a bon voyage, which was duly answered with “OVG”, the code for thanking you. The old fashioned way of communicating by semaphore was still used.

A simple visit to the dentist in Colombo was in order to get treatment for a tooth ache that refused to go away. Seafarers are very independent when going ashore for pleasure, but have to be guided in these circumstances. Aitken Spence & Co organised for a clerk to hold my hand. That was a good thing for the dentist had decided to forego the appointment and go on holidays instead. Everything was possible in Colombo, even getting to another dentist. This one was catering for the masses and the practice was not even reasonable clean. This was not what we were used to but the pain made it acceptable. An obese “Burgher”, a native with Dutch or Portuguese blood, who only very recently had consumed a spicy curry with a lot of garlic, gave me priority and full attention and proceeded to give me the best clean up I have ever had. Shaking his head in the good Indian fashion he declared there was no hole to be filled. I never argued with experts, did not believe him but the pain went and stayed away.

02 January 1959 in Colombo

On New Years Eve 1958 the mess room was invited to partake in a Cold Buffet Dinner with the top brass, all dressed up in formal “whites”. Although seniors and juniors sat apart, the whole thing was a great success; the Catering Department had done their best. At 21.00 the Captain stood up from his table and made a speech with the promise that the bar would close at 22.00 and he would not accept any excuse for noise after that time. Full stop.

At that time all labour walked off the ship and it did not take long to get the juniors together to go ashore. Due to a strike at Shell, motor launches preserved their diesel and only sailed with full loads of passengers, instead of by demand or keeping to a schedule. We did only get as far as the New Zealand ship “Wairata”, where the launch stopped as their booking would fill all the space. All the Officers and Engineers were in their Captain’s cabin having drinks and we were immediately invited to join in. That was the start of a good night.

The end of the year saw us in the Gall face Hotel, where a few hundred people sang and kissed in the good old traditional English celebrate the occasion, how we did get into that select company I never found out. All the venues were fully booked and because of the riots the security was strict. A Ceylonese chap joined our little group and took us by car from one venue to the next, with the others following in taxies. At the Town Hall we stopped and our friend had a long discussion with the Manager, who presented us with tickets for the Gall face and off loaded in our care another gentleman, who was removed from the venue and too drunk to drive his Jaguar. The Captain of the “Wairata” took the keys and the driver seat and we paid off one taxi and continued to the Gall face where we had no problems.

At 02.00 we went to Mount Lavinia and it was 04.00 before we ended up being dropped off by our mysterious Ceylonese friend at the pier and stumbled into a little rowing boat to get back to the ship. That person had paid all the bills for the whole mob during the night.

Those who had stayed on board reported that at midnight all the senior staff had come to the saloon, still in their formal attire and had waited for the juniors to appear, but not one single person turned up. How sad.

On the first day of 1959, I was the first to pay my compliments and received another lecture re attitudes, responsibilities etc, etc, which I had all heard before, whilst no rules were broken in this case. The Officers of the “Wairata” came on board, but quickly discovered it was better for our people to go and visit them.

10 January 1959 in Colombo

Each day seemed to be different; there was either an abundance of cargo and no labour available or no cargo for the labour rostered to work our ship. Somewhere we managed to get to become the top priority vessel in the harbour, but even that made no difference to the overall performance.

To fill in the spare time the Missions to Seaman had organised a soccer match against the German ship “Hannover” from the HAPAG Lloyd. This would have been only our second game and we anticipated the worst. That was not far wrong as a team of young blond giants appeared on the field, all meticulously dressed in proper sports uniform and had us by the short and curlies before we started. We were dressed by the Mission in well worn gear and wearing an assortment of preloved boots. They knew the secrets and made sure that the only real soccer player in our team was put on the sideline by half time. The end score was 4 – 1 in their favour and with that they started to act like human beings. After a few schnapps on board of the “Hannover” we became the best of friends……………until the next morning when we not only had sore muscles, but also heavy heads. The German beer was different to the Singapore Tiger beer we had in our tanks. But we had survived and were happy with the lesson, enough to contemplate buying complete sets of sport uniforms and boots for the ship.

The departure had been confirmed and we sailed for Belawan. The main purpose was to fill one of the deep tanks with palm oil.

As mentioned before, these memories came from letters written home and as Singapore was the next port of call after Belawan, no particulars were put on paper.

The stay in Singapore can be left to the imagination of the reader and I can only confirm that it was most enjoyable band thereby concludes this chapter of the voyage.

08 February 1959 from Probolinggo to Brisbane

Both the calls to Belawan and Singapore were made without major problems; otherwise they would have been remembered as there was no correspondence to fall back on. I was given the opportunity to visit my family in their new home and only ventured back on board for the necessary duties of a 2^nd officer, like crew administration and wages. All of the Officers stepped in to take on the extra burden of handling the work with one man less than normal, also thanks to Captain LR, who had changed considerably since the start of this year and had also taken on some of my work.

On 22 January 1959 the “Straat Johore” left Singapore for the voyage to Australia, with the next port of call: Tandjung Priok. First we had to calibrate the direction finder and the delayed arrival of the launch of Radio Holland made us leaving the Eastern Anchorage only just prior to sunset.

The ship had turned into a hospital ship, the 4^th Officer spewed all over the wheelhouse and various sailors came in with gastric problems and tooth aches. One fitter took a bit off his nose, when a spanner slipped, showing the bone trough a big cut in the little layer of flesh. Chief Officer PJM did go down to help and returned calling for assistance quick smart, as he could not stand the sight of blood. Together with the 3^rd Officer FJB, we made a great medical team. The Captain took all watches on the bridge to relieve the pressure.

Tandjung Priok was empty, no more than five ships in the whole port. We had to take on a big load of tea, which could not be loaded in the typical tropical downpours and that prolonged the stay, this was good news for the people wanted to go ashore as there were no restrictions, only safety warnings from the RIL Agency.

In Surabaya we had 300 tons of timber on the cargo list, which was stacked behind the consignment of a Japanese ship, causing us to wait our turn on that berth and resulted in another stay overnight. The usual happened, as we did not only went to Surabaya for the cargo, but also for the food that could be ordered with the help of the stevedore supervisor and eaten on deck accompanied with the necessary glasses of cold beer. Every port in the Archipelago had its own delicacies; Surabaya’s speciality was in the vegetarian range.

The 300 tons turned out to be 500 tons, which was discovered by the Agent just after he had collected the senior staff for lunch ashore. The Captain’s saying that “Hans will fix it” was a great compliment, but a headache as we were already fully loaded below deck. I received permission to load timber on deck, but had to reserve space for Probolingo in the tween decks, because that was a very special consignment. It was a good thing that the Chief Officer PJM had always involved me in the loading of the ship, which was a big help on this occasion. Both on the fore and aft decks timber was stacked next to the hatches up to five feet high, leaving only just sufficient space to cater for and satisfy the Australian Regulations.

The actual town of Probolingo, we never saw as we anchored a few miles off shore and the cargo was brought alongside in large native barges, the loading was quick and soon we were on the way to Australia. The weather was balmy without any wind, even in the evening. The sea was like a mirror and our wake could be seen stretching to the horizon. The passengers settled down for the longer haul at sea. Not one of them had gone ashore in Surabaya in fear of being attacked by the locals, in spite of all the information that was available to them. They were a weird and complicated lot, but no bother to the juniors with the exception of the young wife of a much older American man, who was desperately trying to get some extra attention by sitting in front of the door leading to our quarters, showing a lot of flesh.

In Surabaya the Chief Mate of a Stanvac tanker came over for a chat. Over a beer he told the amusing story that he had tried to maintain a job ashore as Harbour Master in a small port in New Guinea. His Australian wife could not settle and he wanted to get out of the five year contract, he had signed with the Government. His next door neighbour was a judge in the local Court system, who offered the solution to go for “compassionate grounds” as a legal reason to break the contract. Subsequently they divorced and she went back to Australia, he pined and showed clearly he could not live without her. It went before the Court and the ruling allowed him to end the contract of employment. He went to Sydney, where they would celebrate their reunion and booked into a hotel. However……without the certificate to show being married, the mayor hotels of any repute did not fancy renting out accommodation to couples, just walking in off the street. In the end she rented room on the first floor and he had to climb up via the external down pipes of the gutter. Times really have changed since then.

Captain LR had bought a slide projector in Singapore and spent hours organising his travel photos, collected over many years of travel around the world. Each and everyone were very welcome to enjoy the slide show. He definitely did prove the theory, that an occupied Captain is a nice person to sail with.

It was a happy ship sailing past the Carpentaria light vessel and up to the Torres Strait. Experience and local knowledge allowed us to make the passage without Pilot, because the currents are so severe and changing so rapidly, that the strait was classed as “Pilotage Recommended’ waterways. In the Barrier Reef the Officers doubled up on their watches, six hours up and down, allowing one Officer to keep a good lookout, whilst the other took the necessary bearings and put them in the chart as required. For the narrow and tricky parts of the Barrier the Captain remained on the bridge, all depending who was on watch. In this case I had more Barrier experience than the others and was left by myself quite a bit.

On 07 February 1959 the crew celebrated their Chinese New Year evening with a banquet and everyone was invited to come aft and join in. Starting at 17.00 with the juniors, we were joined at 18.00 by the higher echelon and passengers, and then the meal was dished up in a typical Chinese way of quality and quantity, with the beer glasses never empty. Only the passengers and the new apprentices were excused from using chopsticks. It started with shark fin soup to get the taste and then followed by the choice of chicken, prawns, frog legs, sweet and sour pork, quail and more than one type of fish dish, special fried rice and fruits as desert. Although it was all over by 20.00, most of the watch keepers had problems with their digestive system during the night, rather than the influence of alcohol.

The next day we all did our duty and paid our respect to the Department Heads, wished them Kon Mi Fa Choy and left them to it. They knew how to celebrate with the firecrackers ensuring that there was enough noise, which continued until well after midnight, without any complaints from “up top”. Because that could have been the end of any good relations we had with the crew.

09 February 1959 in Brisbane

Once settled alongside the wharf, the Captain came down to personally hand out the mail, which was a nice gesture, but with another motive as the letters for me obviously contained photos. In return, I went upstairs and proudly showed off the latest prints of our son, which was a good move as he was delighted and hoped that I would have them ready to show his wife, when she would join us in Sydney. It just showed that even Captains are human beings.

The working of cargo in Australian ports was still done in rather civilised hours during day and twilight only, officially ending at 23.00. Because of the required washing time and walking to the gate time, just after 22.30 all work had all stopped and the hatches were shut. The wharfies in Brisbane were genuine bunch of men; they liked to be tough on the outside, but were softies at heart. The news of our first born had spread and most of the old timers, I had known since 1954, would pass by and have a kind word to say. Other ports were slightly different.

To make up for the good time off I had received at home in Singapore, I took on additional watches, enabling the others to go ashore, which was well received.

16 February 1959 in Sydney

For a change we did not go to our usual berth at Walsh Bay, but ended up in Woolloomooloo next to the Naval Base on Garden Island, where the Captain’s wife came on board and made an immediate change to the atmosphere on board when she took control of the Captain. Not surprising that he lovingly referred to her as: “My battleship”.

RIL Sydney had made sure that I would be fully employed with transfers of crewmembers to various ships of the Australia to Africa services and volumes of corrections to the Company Regulations covering all Departments, one for each and another copy for the Captain, to be updated by the 2^nd Officer. Therefore I was the first to learn the bad news that, because of cost cutting measures, the services of the night steward would be suspended. What a disaster to replace such a valuable member of the crew by coffee peculators and sandwich boxes, which was the normal system on Dutch ships with Dutch crews. Even the manner of saving on the preparations of meals was outlined, but only as an indication, not a direction.

A very impressive Royal Australian Navy sailor presented himself to PJM, the Chief Officer, with a large official looking envelope addressed to Hans van Weel, which he promptly opened and read that I was personally invited to visit Mrs Cooper at a certain time. The Chief Engineer was with him, when he opened the letter and the two of them were dying to know what it was all about. Like two old women looking for gossip, they were not happy with the fact that I just thanked them for opening my mail and left.

After a while I told PJM that Mrs Cooper was the Head of the RAN Hydrography Dept. where our sea charts were checked and updated, whom I had met on our last trip. At first it seemed strange to me to find such an elderly lady in that position, but seeing her in full dress uniform showed the impressive array of medals earned during WW2.

A ship in port lying idle was unusual in Asian ports, unless there was a very good reason to warrant it, like the lack of cargo or scheduling requirements. In Australia it is economical and advantageous not to work on week ends when the rate of hourly pay for the labour went up to triple the ordinary rate; when possible all work would cease at noon on Saturday until 08.000 the following Monday.

This Sunday in Sydney was one of those days in a weekend, when the crew had the opportunity to stay with friends ashore and who was not wanted for watch keeping, made sure to be off the ship. That is the reason only a handful of us were there to enjoy the RIL Sunday lunch.

One asked for an extra egg on top of his “nassi goreng”, which brought in an agitated Chief Steward, telling us off in no uncertain terms that we could not expect extra food, because of the non attendance of the others, as he was obliged to refund their meal money when requested. This started an argument in the course of which he told the two other diners and me to behave. It was really unfortunate that I lost my temper when I nearly physically removed him from the dining room, but never threatened or even touched him.

The next morning there was an official inquest held in the Captains quarters to answer the complaint of the Chief Steward, stating that we all demanded upgraded meals to the standard of the senior staff and, when refused I had hit him and even threatened him with a knife. In RIL it does not go down well if there is trouble with Chinese in general, let alone with Chief Stewards. After my hearing, the other four diners were questioned and our stories were identical in what had occurred. However, whilst the top sat scratching their heads, as what action to take next, the stewards who were on duty, together with the Chief Cook, heard about the inquest and demanded that the truth prevail and were only just stopped from throwing the Chief Steward over board. All the department heads became involved and I was cleared...

In the true form of RIL Chinese crew management, the whole inquest was never recorded and life went on as if nothing had happened. There were no official apologies for inconsiderate accusations and inconveniences required. RIL Hong Kong would never get to know what happened, not even from the Captain, who had seen it all before.

The ship berthed behind us was the largest aircraft carrier ever to visit Australia, the Royal Navy vessel “Albion”. Thousands of sightseers were walking up and down the wharf eying off this spectacular ship and offering us the pleasant entertainment called “people watching”. The majority were females, which made much more interesting for us sitting on deck having a quiet drink. In the evening the show was concluded with the “Ceremonial Sunset Ceremony”, which we could enjoy from our bridge deck. It was an impressive demonstration of colour, which made the front pages of the local newspapers. Actually a nice change from their last headlines about the “slasher”, a maniac, who entered bedrooms and cut up nightgowns and curtains, leaving the victims with a knife-cut in the right breast. Up to 40 incidents had been reported and no clues had been left behind.

20 February 1959 in Melbourne

Sailing down the east coast of Australia and keeping to the 100 fathom line, we made the most of the southbound current, something we needed as the barnacles and other rubbish attached to the hull from our extended stay in Colombo, were slowing us down. Although it was officially still summer, it started to get fresh and soon we were in blue uniforms, as Captain LR was always the first to feel the cold. That was still one of the few decisions not covered by RIL Regulations, apart from being “as required” and depended purely on the Captain of the ship.

The city of Melbourne had been invaded by Hollywood for the filming of “On the beach”. Complete main streets were cordoned off and used as props, horse drawn cars due to the shortage of petrol and thousands of figures were set up for a few minutes of action, when a fire broke out in one of the buildings, which was not part of the script. The fire brigade rushed in, all the extras ran around in panic losing their allocated positions; it was a complete disaster. The reassembling of the players took a long time, delaying the filming and in the end keeping the street closed for the people, working inside the offices and shops and also affecting the various side streets to Collins Street. That must have cost a packet.

The cargo work was hampered by the shortage of labour in the port, to cater for the large amount of ships that had arrived at the same time. There was always something that could cause a delay when time was of the essence, especially when a dry dock has been booked in the next few days. Then, all of a sudden all the problems seemed to be solved and we were flooded with labour to discharge the cargo. When completed we were sitting alongside the wharf like an eggshell in the water, as nothing was left in the holds; we were ready for the annual service.

26 February 1959 in Sydney

The voyage from Melbourne to Sydney was all but pleasant. Due to the lack of sufficient draft the propeller was not fully submerged and caused vibrations throughout the ship. In Hobson’s Bay we could take the shortcut by using the Western Channel to the open sea, and as soon as we hit a bit of sea, it became a lot worse. Each time the stern came up; the propeller would lose the resistance of the water and go into a spin. In the crew’s quarters aft it was definitely horrible. Not having the drive of the propeller, our normal service speed could not be maintained. Then going around the corner at Gabo Island, going north into the southbound current, we slowed down even further.

The answer was to get as close to the shore as possible, which tested our navigational skills, but solved not all the problems, as we ran into spots where the surf started to build up.

One Captain I had sailed with always advised us to have bucket of stones on the bridge for this situation. If in doubt, you had to throw the stones in the direction of the land and when you heard them fall into the water, you were too close, but when you did not hear a splash, you were too far of the beach. None of us was ever brave enough to try that.

Slowly but surely we made it to Sydney and were taken straight to the Cockatoo Dockyard, situated on a little island, a long way from everywhere.

It takes nearly 40 minutes by ferry to get to Circular Quay.

The next chapter will get the story back to sea and home to Singapore.

03 March 1959 in Sydney

The first day alongside the wharf in Cockatoo Island Dry Dock was as usual the most important one, as all the work to be done had to be discussed and programmed. Then the different department heads from ship and shore would get together and in the end only two persons would be in charge, one on the shore side and the other one on the ship. Chief Officer PJM was quite happy to delegate the role of superintendent on the ship to me and immediately went ashore.

Once again I was in my element, being an essential part of the ship and looking after her was something I really enjoyed. Dressed in overalls, I was trying to be everywhere at the same time, fore and aft, top and bottom and inside the hatches where work was done and had to be inspected. The repair list was a mile long and it was very satisfying to account for the jobs that were completed.

The Saturday was a beautiful sunny day on Sydney Harbour and we were treated to a spectacular scene. The yacht club across the bay was holding a regatta for all different types of yachts, both big and small. With a moderate breeze blowing the coloured spinnakers billowed out, showing their various markings and patterns. The rowing club was having their competition ranging from single skulls to the powerful eights. As an extra bonus the large fleet of spectators coming in crafts, from little dinghies to big luxury cruisers, would anchor right in front of us in the lee of the island. It was a picture postcard display.

On the Sunday the ship was being fumigated and all living humans had to go ashore and stay away from the ship until after 18.00 hours. Just one Engineer and I stayed on watch near the gangway to assist the fumigation contractor if required and to make sure that no one would sneak back on the ship to have a little siesta, out of which he would not wake up as cyanide was used in all cabins. I had made up little envelopes containing food money and each man had to sign for receipt. When all signatures were on the list, I knew for sure that nobody was left on board. The final inspection gave an eerie feeling of walking through a grave

There were no shopping facilities in the dockyard to buy coffee or lunch; therefore we had brought sufficient provisions with us to feed an army. In our lunchbox were not only sandwiches, but also fruit and eggs, coffee and beer and we had taken a whole crate of soft drinks. Sitting in a small shelter to stay out of the rain, we just ate and read our books and earned a lot of overtime for working weekend hours.

After 16.00 hours we made our way on board to open up and let the fresh air replace the poison. The Engineer had a bit of problem getting down the engine room without a mask to start the ventilation system but succeeded in the end. Being the only two people on board of a ship, where all and every cupboard stood open was quite a responsibility and not taken lightly. The Catering Department had left out a lot of unsealed food, which we tossed in the bins ashore, in fear that our misery Chief Steward would serve it the following day. We settled down with a drink and started to worry about the fact that no crew returned to the ship, which was because on Sundays there were no ferry services to Cockatoo Island and the RIL had not provided alternative transport. The crew were forced to hire motor boats at Circular Quay for the trip back to the ship and the request for compensation might be still hanging.

Across the ship on the island side is a huge stone wall, part of the original huge rock that formed Cockatoo Island. Whereas I would sit at my desk, looking over the waves to the horizon in the distance, there it was more like sitting in a narrow alley, facing the wall. All machinery on board had been turned off and only electricity was supplied from the generators of the dockyard. Consequently, every glass of water had to be brought on board and the subsequent need for the lavatory meant a walk ashore, either in the boiling heat of the sun or through the rain and mud, as Sydney knew how to provide the different climatic settings in one day.

This old fashioned dry dock was basically a large concrete tub, open on one end, where solid, pontoon doors allowed the ships to be taken in and out. On the floor of the dock were hundreds of solid timber bearers fitted to the concrete on which the ship would come to rest, when the water had been pumped out. Long timbers struts would be wedged securely to keep the vessel upright. The main weight of the ship had to be carried on the keel, but contrary to the popular belief, the ship’s bottom is flat and additional blocks would later add to the security near the bilges on the sides of the flat plating. The initial positioning was the most important thing; slight adjustments could be made as the water level went down. The whole process would have taken two hours, during which time the yard workers on little raft would be going down with the water level as they scraped the barnacles of the hull, which was easier to do when they were still wet. That collection of marine life dried up rock hard in next to no time, when dead.

It was not all work as Captain LR insisted that I had to take time off and to go away from the ship for an afternoon. That turned out a good idea as it recharges the batteries of the body and mind. First we did a bit of shopping and had a beer in a pub, where the men stood and gulped one beer down and accepting the next at the same time. For a bit more decent ambiance, we went to the Dutch restaurant “Tulips” for their Australian version of an Indonesian meal, followed by a light-hearted movie. By then R&R had been satisfied in style.

07 March 1959 in Sydney

The time we had to spend inside the dock was extended when it was detected that the bearers of the propeller shaft had worn so much, they could not be machined and had to be replaced. Meanwhile we suffered the inconvenience of sitting high and dry with minimum comfort.

The Captain and his wife were staying in a hotel in the City, as wives were not allowed to remain on board of vessels in dry dock. His wife reported that he was not a happy man, as he had not been able to have one solid night of sleep, due to the constant noise of the traffic, which he could not stop on command.

RIL Hong Kong was represented by the Superintendent ND, with whom I had previous contacts. The man was not great in stature, but oozed authority, which people related to cruelty and created fear in persons not completely sure of themselves. It was not put on artificially, but was just there all the time, he was made for the job he was doing.

The inspections covered all Departments and nothing was overlooked. First the area of responsibility for each individual was scrutinised and commented on in private, followed with additional happenings like my recent disagreement with the Chief Steward were discussed. After two solid hours with him, I was not unhappy, as the only comment was the advice to me to try harder to control my temper and to keep going the way I was heading with my work.

12 March 1959 in Sydney

Three days ago all the repair work was done. First up in the morning the dock was cleared of auxiliary machinery and loose items, the bottom was covered in anti fouling paint and water was slowly let in the dock. During the next two hours the painters on their little rafts kept up the paintwork with the water level rising to the sea level, outside the dock, by then the ship was afloat. The doors were opened and the “Straat Johore” was back where she belonged.

Alongside the wharf at Walsh Bay the loading of 2000 tons settled us down in our old routine and without the pressure and interference of RIL HK. Again we had to concentrate on the job of carrying cargo from A to B in the most economical and safest way. The RIL was complaining bitterly about the lack of income, whilst we had more cargo on offer, than we could carry. The prospect was a fully laden vessel, with cargo on deck, fresh fruit on the hatches and 1000 live sheep in pens on deck as well. The jigsaw to fill the space was interesting.

Even the passenger accommodation was fully booked, with RIL wives overflowing to our side of the superstructure in the spare apprentice cabin at the end of the corridor, another prospect for the Captain to worry about. RIL Officers did not live behind close doors like on the modern ships of today, where doors are closed and locked.

A last fling ashore brought me to the Tivoli Theatre to see a live show, featuring Sabrina, a not so dumb blonde with enormous boobs. The whole performance was rather risqué for that time, but male audiences were not any different from today. She knew how to make the most of her looks and pivoted so close to the edge, in more ways that one, people in the seats in the front row had to duck, when she turned around. She could not sing, but was lauded as:” the best voice ever seen”, told jokes involving all parts of her body and with the help of various side acts, kept the public entertained and happy. Nudity was part of the show, but the bodies were not to move, just used as a prop in the background. There was a beautifully shaped lady, dressed in a roman skirt only, holding a large porcelain vase on her shoulder, and standing near the centre of the stage. She lost her balance and started too shake……all over, until the vase dropped and so did the curtain.

Each day the work was done on the day and twilight shifts, the loading of mainly flour and milk products went smoothly and soon we were ready and looked forward to getting to sea. The same feeling was voiced by some of the juniors, whose adventures with girl friends in Sydney had threatened to become too serious and therefore not really wanted. For them the departure was a relief.

17 March 1959 in Melbourne

Arriving on a Saturday morning was good for the seafarer as no work would be performed till Monday, consequently the watches were organised so the people, wanting time off, could stay away if they wished. The married people stayed on board and also enjoyed the quiet that would come over the ship. The Chinese crew would start their mah-jong games in earnest and the noise of the ebony pieces on the plastic table tops would be heard until deep in the night.

After paying out money to those who wanted to disappear ashore, I was busy with the cargo stowage plan. Melbourne was the port where the majority of the cargo came on board and as such where the basis for the whole stowage was created, what went in had to come out at the appropriate place without the need of shifting cargo. Together with the Chief Officer it took a few hours to put on paper, but the results were very satisfying.

Very few people ventured on the wharves uninvited, as the place had a mystique of its own with hairy stories of connections to the underworld, where the Painters and Dockers ruled the roost. However, one man with an old delivery van was at the gangway, wanting to see the Dutch people on board. It turned out that he was Dutch and together with his wife had produced sausages and other delicatessen and meat products, based on Dutch recipes, which he was selling on Dutch ships, as the local market was a bit slow. It was the time of the emerging influence from migrants on the food in Australia; he was one of the early birds, who did extremely well. His name was “van Wees”, in later years and even today one of the big names in the processed meat market.

Cargo was worked subject to the availability of labour, but at least three gangs would have been on board for both the day and twilight shifts. Again the bulk of the load was flour and milk for the Colombo Plan, refrigerated cargo consisted of butter and meat, general consignments also included motor cars, which would be stowed on top of the flour, with only a few inches to spare under the deck beams. Where the layer of flour was uneven and it looked like a very tight fit, a few bags of flour were placed inside the vehicle to weigh it down, rather than double handling the bags, already in the stow.

With the typical weather conditions in Melbourne, where you could have four seasons in one day, the tents were put up over the hatchways at the first drop of rain and the wharfies went ashore to their canteen. As soon as the temperature went up, it was deemed to warm to work and the same thing would happen. For working reefer cargo there was a special loading on top of the hourly pay, the same would be required for working smelly or dangerous cargo.

The Union kept a weary eye open that every opportunity for additional pay was obtained. But they also guaranteed the working hours being more civilised that in the Far East.

24 March in Adelaide

Arriving on a Sunday in Adelaide was an experience on its own. The City of Churches was normally quiet, but on Sunday it seemed to be dead. A walk in this clean overgrown village was a pleasure as there few people around, most shops were closed and public transport was running at slow speed. On board the hatches remained closed and everyone enjoyed the day of rest.

The next morning I noticed two brand new Holden cars alongside the shed, one showing the affects of a serious accident. They had to be moved and turned out to be hire cars of our Chinese crew, who did not have a good reputation for driving in Australia. They had no problem solving little things like that when our Chief Checker would become involved. On a previous ship I had sailed with him, when he had to face the Court for being involved in smuggling and was fined 10.000 pounds by the Judge, who was at first very outspoken, but became speechless when the man took out a wad of money and paid him in cash.

The Missions to Seaman organised a soccer match against an English ship, the “Port Hobart”, and were we collected in large bus, which brought as to the “Stadium”. That was a public sports field, some grass with a cricket patch in the middle, lots of bare sand patches showing agriculture drain pipes and an abundance of weeds and nettles. However, the game was played in good spirits and ended up in a nil all draw. The drinks after the match were the best part, which started modestly on the “Straat Johore” and were extended to late in the evening on the “Port Hobart”.

Another ship in port with Chinese crew was the “Milos”. Under the ploy of a belated Chinese New Year celebration, the crews got together for a “Lion Dance” festival, to be held on the wharf. With all the noise of firecrackers and the banging of drums and cymbals, half the population of Adelaide came to watch and the next morning the papers showed full page articles of the colourful exhibition.

The scheduling was governed by the Easter Holidays and we had ample time to make Fremantle on Easter Monday, hence cargo work was staggered to be as economical as possible. That was usual a worry for the Captain, as Agencies would only advise but not instruct, what action had to be taken. When leaving Adelaide, the voyage in the Great Australian Bight could easily be slowed down by adverse weather conditions. With the booking of livestock the ship had to be on time. We sailed to arrive in Fremantle on schedule.

31 March 1959 in Fremantle

After a good start the weather did change and we copped some high seas. The “Straat Johore” temporarily forgot she was such a good looking piece of marine engineering, which could cut through the waves like a dolphin. She acted more like a wild bull in a rodeo show. Both the turnbuckles securing the anchors had worked themselves loose and to be tightened as soon as possible. The 3^rd Officer and a few sailors went forward, risking their lives in the dark and slippery conditions, the ship diving in the oncoming waves and from the bridge it was an eerie scenery. All the deck and mast lights were on and additional lighting was provided by the flood lights from the wheelhouse. After a while the anchors started to slam against the hull again and this time it was my turn to go and pull them up in the hawse pipes, assisted by the Boatswain and Carpenter. The conditions were still bad and the sea treacherous; you could not see the waves coming and enable you to duck behind the bulwark for safety. The job was done and we all needed a complete change of clothing.

During daylight the Italian passenger ship “Neptunia” powered past, behaving more gracefully than us, obviously because of the difference in size and with the help of stabilisers. We must have been a rare sight for the people on that ship.

All of a sudden we were again behind schedule and even had to work a midnight gang to ensure to be ready to embark 1200 live sheep in pens on deck. On the hatchways timbers were laid to provide ventilation through the loads of fresh fruit, which to be stowed up to six high, securely lashed and covered with tarpaulins. To assist the ventilation, the tarps had to be rolled up and pulled down regularly. It promised to be a busy voyage to Singapore.

From Singapore, sailing to Bombay and return to Singapore, I had the company of my wife and again it will have to be a visual tale, until I pick up the stories again during the next trip to Australia.

April / May 1959 from Singapore to Bombay return voyage with wife on board

“Home” for the seafarer was where his family lived. In our case it was the KPM/RIL Flat at 214 Dunearn Road in Singapore. The multi story building was the base for the women and children of personnel sailing in the area. With many women living together and men coming and going at all hours, it was the source of gossip going around the fleet. Arriving in Sydney I heard the story of my wife attending a party until the early hours of the morning, before I received her letter, telling me all about the event. Not surprising it had the nickname “Hunker Bunker”

The Company Regulations allowed Masters and Chief Engineers, together with persons with a certain amount of active service to take their wife and children for a stipulated time with them on a voyage. As 2^nd Officer I could take my wife only. That is where living in the flat was good, as the girls looked after each others children, knowing that one good turn deserved another.

We went on the round trip to Bombay. Doing all the hard work and extra watches in Australia paid off with the others taking the extra load, when we wanted to go ashore, no problems.

The first port of call was Port Swettenham, where we went sight seeing like any ordinary tourist. You could sit and wait for the Agency launch or hire a sampan for a quick ride from ship to shore. We had organised transport to Kuala Lumpur and had a good look around the city, the famous railway station, post office and court house. The highlight was the visit to the “Batu Caves”, well known for its 272 steps to be climbed before entering the combination of caves, formed in this limestone rock, which is the holiest place for Hindu’s in Malaysia. Even in those years it was a big tourist attraction.

It did not take long to sail from Port Swettenham to Penang, where we were again lucky to be able to get away from the ship. As the photos served the memory we made it on the funicular train to Penang Hill, from where the views were extraordinary.

Back down to the old settlement of George Town and obviously a cool dip and refreshments were enjoyed.

This was the first time that I had to share my cabin and I had been a little apprehensive of the outcome, when at sea and working the 00.00 to 04.00 watch. It worked well, with Mieke staying up till 23.30, when I prepared to go on duty. Sliding back into bed just before 05.00 in the morning caused a few grunts from under the blanket, but life was better than just bearable. It was good.

Bombay gave us ample opportunity to go ashore, with the visits to the Breach Candy swimming pool the highlights.

30 April 1959 in Cochin

The celebration of the birthday of the Dutch Queen was done in style on board of the Straat Johore under command of Captain LR. But even in Cochin there was time for a wander ashore which was thirsty work by the looks of it.

In Colombo there were many days lost either waiting for labour, lighters or cargo and with hire cars readily available a number of trips were made. To the Temple of Tooth in Kandy and the tea plantations in Nuwara Eliya, to the Dehiwala Zoo and the Mount Lavinia Resort, besides short trips into town to the pictures or just shopping around.

On the way back to the ship we had a flat tyre and stopped on the side of the road to replace it with the spare wheel from the boot. Then a car stopped and a smiling couple came to give us a hand, not just like that. They instructed their driver to change over the wheel and take care of the car, but we did not have to wait, they took us home to their coconut plantation in their car. By then it was getting dark and we were invited to stay for dinner and the night. The memory of the authentic curry and the night filled with sounds of the jungle and the faraway song of the surf on the beach still lingers in the mind.

25 May 1959 in Tandjung Priok

Another chapter was started with the departure from Singapore to Australia, with the first stop at Tandjung Priok. In Singapore we had received a large amount of chart corrections and further amendments to the Company Regulations, which would keep me occupied for some time. Normally I would work the 00.00 – 04.00 and 12.00 – 14.00 watches on the bridge and was there ample time for other work, but that had been altered back to the old-fashioned four hours on and eight hours off, as the new 4th Officer could not yet be trusted on his own.

He caused some trouble and there was worse to come, because of his arrogance he refused to accept any responsibility for his actions. In Singapore he disappeared from his watch on deck to have a beer with friends and than at sea, he plainly forgot to change course as directed and nearly put the ship on a sand bank. His attitude when spoken to was not good and trying to teach the man could be difficult.

Like the last voyage after leaving Singapore we had a large number of people with gastric problems. The new Chief Engineer, BO, became involved and helped me with the testing of the drinking water, just in case that the chlorinator reading was faulty. That not being the case, he suspected the cooking oil that was used in the kitchen could be the source of the trouble.

Tandjung Priok was getting to be like Colombo, the labour would only turn up for work when they thought it was a good idea, they could not be instructed to do so. The cargo was brought alongside in lighters, which made the coordination of working hours quite difficult, just to get the cargo and the labour on the job at the same time. When left idle, the labour would spread out over the ship and the pilferage of cargo in the holds was horrendous. In next to no time there was a trail of stolen cashew nuts from Cochin from the hold entrance to the side of the ship, where it would have been dumped into little boats. Trying to catch the culprits was not easy as the goods were carried on the body under the loin cloth. Too much action from our side would see them all walk off the ship and stop all work for an indefinite period.

The Chinese crews loved to gamble and all games involved large amounts of money, sometimes causing excessive debts. The gambling system worked both ways, the debt had to be paid off, before either party signed off the ship, but was declared invalid when the debtor left the ship on his own account, which very rarely happened. In Tandjung Priok, the 2^nd Cook/Baker did not return from shore leave and was left behind. All because of a huge debt.

Neither the Chief Cook nor the 3^rd Cook could bake bread and an old Chinaman from the Engine room Department took charge and did a fantastic job, although frequently forgetting the salt.

04 June 1959 in Brisbane

After some delays we eventually left Indonesia for a non stop, nine days, uneventful trip via the Barrier Reef, where the double watches were worked, six hours on and six hours off, to arrive in Moreton Bay in the middle of the night. The last couple of days at sea were not nice, strong wind from the east and heavy squalls made the watch on the bridge unpleasant. The rain water would seep through the towel around the neck and drip down the body; at the end of the watch we were sopping wet.

It was cold in Brisbane, the uniform dress was “blue”, the air-conditioning turned off and the warmth of he tropics was a happy memory. But it was like being home again, you did not have to be apprehensive of the labour on board and when ashore you were a free man. The doors of our cabins could remain open and create a different atmosphere than in the East, where the accommodation was hermetically sealed from would be “visitors” from the shore.

The Gold Coast was getting more popular and a good destination for limited shore leave, where the young ones could eye the females on the beach and come back on board with tales of their adventures. Being one of the youngest married men, I would have been their first victim, to be forced to listen to the sometimes unbelievable stories of “man meets girl”, all juiced up and relived for the umpteenth time.

10 June 1959 in Sydney

The departure from Brisbane at midnight was a rude awakening of the climate we were heading for, 10 degrees Celsius in heavy fog is not easy to take when you come out of a nice warm bed. The visibility cleared as we progressed out of Moreton Bay and by 03.00 hours the Pilot and I had emptied the whole percolator of coffee.

My happenings in Sydney were all overshadowed by the wedding of the Wireless Operator, JP. Uniforms and suits were dry-cleaned and pressed, the watch keeping was rearranged and work programs were set beforehand. The actual event went well and the late night that followed caused only a slight after effect, which was self inflicted, albeit with the help of the father of the bride. The party did not stop until 02.30 hours in the morning.

It was a marriage that I never thought would eventuate, but at the writing of this, it has lasted already over half a century.

For a Sailor to voluntarily visit a Medical Surgery there must have been a good reason. I had two complaints to which no one wanted to give me any sympathy. One was an occasional toothache and the other a recurring migraine. The bride of JP worked for an Optometrist and had made the appointment well before I could object and I was not game enough to chicken out. The result was migraine caused by stress and toothache by virtue of a small cavity. Only the fact of having had the attention, made me feel better.

15 June 1959 in Melbourne

A southerly wind blowing with force 8 and high seas slowed the ship down to an average speed of 8 knots, even running down with the current. The “Straat Johore” was not built for this type of weather and she reacted violently. The low temperatures and dense rain and hail made the voyage to Melbourne seem longer than it actually was. Standing on the wing of the bridge with a running nose and tingling ears, tears in the eyes and water dripping everywhere, was not the most enjoyable way to spend a leisure cruise along the coast. It was just part of our life as a seafaring person.

Eventually we made into Hobson’s Bay and were lucky to go straight up the Yarra River to our berth. Being Sunday followed by the Queens Birthday Holiday on Monday we had ample time to concentrate on the cargo layout for the remaining Australian ports. That was becoming more my job as the Chief Officer was to be transferred soon and as such handing the responsibility to me. I did not mind that at all, as long as it did not interfere with my own duties, in due course the cargo stowage became my hobby and later in life a full time job on the Melbourne waterfront.

21 June 1959 in Melbourne

For the first time on this ship, we were working the midnight shift in Melbourne and I had the honour to take the 23.00 to 07.00 turn on deck, which was usually not pleasant and very boring, but by continuing working on the cargo stowage in the heated ship’s office, it was not that bad. Furthermore we had a trusted foreman nicknamed “Pappa Jack” in charge.

A soccer match against the crew of the “Oronsay” ended up in 1 – 0 in their favour, which was not a bad result, considering the size of their crew to choose a team from. We did well because we were more active on the field, purely because we felt the cold more and needed the running to keep warm. Our Chief Engineer played a big part and nearly made the equaliser, but was so severely attacked, that he had to be carried off the field.

Whilst I was working in the chartroom I had a surprise when I was called in by the Captain to meet his visitor. There stood a little man with a big and varied reputation and well known by his juniors as “Napoleon”, a personality I sailed with for a very long time in my previous term, Captain CdW. He took both my hands and was genuinely pleased to see me and cherished the fact that he had been part in my speedy promotion in the RIL. He even asked if I would come and sail with him if requested, a question I did not have to answer as it was done by Captain LR.

25 June 1959 in Adelaide

On my watch we sailed through the Backstairs Passage up to 15 mile outside Adelaide, where we anchored whilst waiting for the Pilot to bring us into the Port. That happened at daylight and when alongside we were presented with seven gangs of wharfies, which kept me occupied till the start of the twilight shift at 17.00 hours, making it another long working day.

Chief Officer AJM was replaced by CD, a man of my age on his way to Singapore to go on leave. He asked me to keep doing the stowage, which was understandable, although he was a great help when it became difficult.

Another soccer match was lost, this time 4 – 0, just because we did not get our act together against a team, made up of enthusiastic players from different ships.

In Adelaide we purchased wine to take home to Singapore and in Fremantle it was the fresh fruit, milk and dairy products that the Chief Engineer and I stored in the cool rooms of the Catering Department.

The juniors had organised a few girls to come on board for a party, for which permission was asked and duly granted until midnight. That time limit was exceeded by three hours and instead of keeping it quiet, one of the girls woke the Chief Officer, PJM, to ask for the key of the Harbour Board telephone to ring for a taxi to take her home. That went up to the top and came down via the 2^nd Officer in charge of the mess room, all because the Chief Engineer and the Captain did not see eye to eye in the matter of entertainment for younger people. With that the atmosphere did drop to a lower level and needed time to repair itself.

03 July 1959 in Fremantle

The Great Australian Bight showed another side than the last trip, beautiful clear sky and a smooth sea with a light swell all the way to Fremantle, the only way to be happy to be at sea. With that the mood eased and smiles returned on the faces on both sides.

Arrival in Fremantle was delayed as we had to wait for the Dutch ship “Blitar” to vacate or berth. On the Dutch ships some crewmembers will not return on board before departure by hiding ashore. When assured the ship has left the Australian Coast, they would report to the Authorities and be locked up for a couple of months, then to be allowed to apply for an entry permit. A loss of ten men each voyage was not unusual and cleverly compensated with the employment of Apprentice Officers. These men, straight out of Nautical College, would be trained by the Boatswain in doing the work of a Sailor on the outbound voyage and therefore ready and able to replace the ……………. on the way home.

Then the cargo was not ready and we muddled around to keep one gang working, 24 hours a day.

I took the opportunity to go ashore and do some shopping. A case of 112 oranges was 36 shillings, 30 bottles of milk, 20 bottles yoghurt and 6 bottles cream at a total cost of 3 pounds and 14 shillings. The Chief Engineer did buy the meat and other goods, an enormous fillet, the size of my underarm for 18 shillings.

Complying with the request to buy large round earrings was a bigger problem as it involved the choice of clips or screw fittings, weight and texture, without much guidance of the extremely young girls behind the counter.

09 July 1959 in Surabaya

It was peaceful on board of the “Straat Johore”. The four little children of the passengers had been absolutely delightful all the way from Melbourne. They were well behaved and friendly, but not disturbing or intrusive. In the evenings they would extent their playtime before going to bed by saying good night to the Officers and in the end insisted being tucked in by me. Even Captain LR became involved and rewarded them with a party, organised by him. For that purpose he had bought some party hats and balloons and invited the juniors into the saloon to join in the fun.

It was another picture postcard voyage across an unbelievable smooth sea from Fremantle to the Bali Strait, a one mile wide and shallow passage between the island of Java and Bali en route to Surabaya. From there we would stop on the roads of Semarang and also had cargo to be discharged in Tandjung Priok, before we headed for home in Singapore, where we hoped to arrive on 16 July 1959.

16 July 1959 in Singapore

With the assistance of Captain LR, I was assured to get the maximum time off to be home with my family. My wife had settled in well and our son was growing up, changing from a baby to a boy. Even the short visits home were important to build up a relationship.

On board of the Straat Johore it had been a hive of activity for the Deck Department with the transfer of Chief Officers, neither of them very interested in the job. CD had only been aboard a short while and was going on leave and WdG was still too active with his escapades ashore in Singapore.

As soon as I came back on board, I found out that things had not worked out the way they had been planned; the complaints came in from the top deck to the main deck, in a fury of explanations and excuses.

Ah Fatt, the contractor used for cleaning the four deep tanks had been working unsupervised and consequently there had been no progress reports done. When the Surveyor came for the initial inspection they were not ready, he was disgusted and disappeared in the night. Hence the departure was delayed until later in the day towards 19.00, pending on the final clearance. I did not waste any time and dressed straight into overalls to go down the hatch and clear the mess and was able to prevent further delays. Briefing the Captain took only a minute, but listening to the reports he had received through his “quartermaster and steward spy service” about the comings and goings of his Officers was the start of another affair, I had to contend with on that voyage to Bombay and back to Singapore.

From the start I had always been first in line to volunteer to learn from the more experienced people and the stowage of cargo and ship’s maintenance was a favourite. Chief Officer PJM choose to delegate and gave me a free reign under his responsibility. Captain LR had been a witness to all that and not only approved my work, but more and more expected it from me.

18 July 1959 in Malacca

If first impressions counted, I was not impressed by the new Chief Officer WdG, whose nick name “Mooie Willem” (beautiful William) was very apt, and he was full of himself. He made it quite clear that he did not wanted any advice or assistance in performing his job and there would be no discussions on any directions given by him. That did hurt and I did have to revert back to lecture I had received from our last Captain, to “go with the flow”. That was not easy.

When I was asked to type a very personal letter from him to HK ND, relating to divorce applications and private debts, to be countersigned by the Captain, I became suspicious of the man. That was confirmed when I found out that his own typing skills were far superior to my two finger efforts.

21 July 1959 in Port Swettenham

It took only five hours from Malacca to the entrance of South Klang River, where the pilot boarded the ship and had a bit of trouble because of the unusual swell rolling in from the MalaccaStrait. There must have been a good storm in the Indian Ocean to have caused it.

This time we went alongside the little wharf to load palm oil in all four deep tanks, which did not take much time and then we continued the cargo work on the anchorage.

It was Sunday morning and the 3^rd Officer JvG volunteered to take the dayshift duty on deck to make the most of the overtime penalty rates offered. That was quickly stopped by the Chief Officer and changed to the midnight shift on Monday at normal rate, forcing me to do the Sunday dayshift on top of the midnight. I did not realise there was more to come.

23 July 1959 in Penang

At the post office I found out that it was better to book trunk calls to Singapore ahead of time to ensure the availability of the line, a single call was Straits $ 5.00 for a few minutes.

That night the new 4^th Officer CJH was in trouble for not accompanying me on the midnight shift, all because he was not instructed to do so. There was no port roster to follow.

The Agent came to ask for a stowage sequence, in order to program the cargo to come alongside in the same sequence, which was not available and he walked off the ship empty handed. This resulted in the constant shifting of lighters and subsequent demurrage claims.

The 1400 tons of copra were a multitude of consignments and could not be mixed.

My urgent plea for intermediate leave was understood and approved by the Captain and under his signature dispatched to Hong Kong.

31 July 1959 in Bombay

Awaiting the departure of the ship on our berth in the Victoria Dock, we stayed on the roads for 24 hours. That gave us the opportunity to tidy up around the ship, on deck and in he cabins as we were hit by some rainy squalls and a tsunami like swell, in the night before arrival. Even at the previous sunset there been no sigh of any change in the weather.

The German ship “Hohenfels” took her time leaving the dock, from which she had only a few inches clearance on either side coming through the opening. Our bridge resembled that of a Royal Navy battleship with the Captain and 3 Pilots in one wing, 2^nd and two 4^th Officers in the wheelhouse with two Quartermasters and the Chief Officer on the other wing.

Then it was the typical Eastern bedlam with all shore personnel concerned with the ship, wanting attention as it was past 17.00 in the afternoon and time for them to go home. This time I could sit back and watch the scramble, in which I normally would partake.

The new 4thEngineer wanted to celebrate the birth of his first son and had asked permission to have a party. To prevent any troubles with the local Law, the Captain suggested it to be held in the wheelhouse instead of the saloon, which, with its large windows was accessible to the views from the deck. The Chief Engineer had his wife and two daughters on board and the two little girls had charmed everybody. They were the centre of attention; making it more to be the family affair the Captain had hoped for, when he consented to do something, which could have improved the tense atmosphere on board of the Straat Johore. Unfortunately, that did not happen.

The south west monsoon brought a massive amount of moist air towards the Indian Continent, where the airstream was forced up and the moisture became rain. It came down in bucket loads.

Therefore, when possible, cargo was worked 24 hours each day and I passively did my watches, although sufficiently alert to notice that there was no direction from above. As no interference was appreciated, something had to go wrong and it surely did.

It was to become known as the “Bombay Palm Oil Affair”. The palm oil that had been loaded in Port Swettenham consisted of two different parcels, both made out: “To Order”. The Chief Officer had been informed who was collecting what and had consequently advised the 2^nd Engineer, three tanks to one consignee and one tank to the other. In turn, the instruction went down to the Engine room and wrongly recorded on their Duty Board. By the time the first consignee stopped sending trucks, he had already received part of the other consignment. It was the RIL’s good fortune that both parcels were of the same quality, consistency and specific gravity and that the two receivers were amicable enough to sort it out between them.

It could have all ended there and then but for the Chief Officer looking for a scapegoat, which in the end was him. Lack of communication and direction were the blame of the debacle. Advising the Chief Chinese Checker and Indian Shore Supervisors, without involving the Officers on deck, obviously did not work

03 August 1959 in Bombay

After a weekend, when the swimming pool at Breach Candy was the most popular place for people going ashore, it was not the only place to get wet, the rain never stopped. The handy McGregor hatches were easier to manage than the heavy rain tents, albeit more work for the ship’s crew. I stayed on board and the Captain made most of the opportunity to share his thoughts with me: endless tirades of happenings that made him unhappy. During his life at sea, he had kept a private log of the good and the bad, the complaints and private talks, just to be assured of having the right answer when necessary, so as not to have to rely on his memory. It was an insight of someone in charge, without any backing of his superiors and a lesson for me to remember.

The advance notice of the turning of the propeller for maintenance reasons was either not given or not received in the right quarters when the workboat was chopped in half, with two sailors hanging onto the tackle above the oily and rat infested water of the Victoria Dock.

07 August in Cochin

Sailing down the coast of India the echo sounder was always the best and safest indication of the distance from the shore when keeping to the 100 fathom line, as the visibility during the wet monsoon was poor and the coast had only a few conspicuous landmarks. The only problem was that all ships had similar ideas, thus a good meeting place. The foul weather did keep the wooden fishing boats that were hardly visible on the radar inside the ports.

There were no problems in Cochin and so we were on the way to Colombo, bypassing Alleppey, because the swell would have prevented the cargo lighters to remain alongside.

13 August 1959 in Colombo

On the Roads of Colombo we joined the twenty odd ships at anchor, all perfectly spaced out to prevent accidents, until an ancient Greek steamer spoiled it by settling down in front of us. Apart from being uncomfortably close, she did not end up with the bow in the wind, but persisted laying broadside on... That kept us awake on the watches, which seemed longer, because nothing happened. You had to be there, just in case something did...

With the mail came the cargo load list: 2355 deadweight tons of the usual exports out of Colombo, which would take up a lot of space and the creation of the stowage plan promised to be difficult for somebody with no experience on the service. Without any interest in the sequence of discharge ports or the nature of the produce to be loaded, the Chief Officer relied on the goodwill of the Chinese Chief Checker WSY, who was not willing to take on part of the responsibility. The tea, coconut fibre and desiccated coconut in slippery bags, requiring ventilation was too much to handle and I was given the job, which I could not refuse.

Actually, with that move I was back in my element, which became even more profound, when we went inside the harbour and the Chief Officer often took the opportunity to go ashore and left me on board to do the supervision. The cargo work was slow and again very much subject to the availability of labour and cargo, the logistics were not always working out.

The testing of the lifeboats had been on the list to be done in Colombo. Rather then just lowering the cumbersome buckets and checking the release system, they had to be sailed. There was little wind and it did not take long before the lifeboat was caught by the outgoing current and drifted straight between the two breakwater heads out of the harbour. The allocated crew were the stewards, laundrymen and an ancient engine room fireman, none strong enough to operate the Fleming Patent System that turned the propeller. Luck was on our side when the Water Police came to our assistance.

17 August 1959 in Colombo

On the Saturday there was the perfect opportunity to have some time off duty, which I had been looking for. The Chief Checker had a hired a car I could use for a trip into the country or wherever I wanted to go. The Wireless Operator JP became my partner in this escapade that started early in the morning. The car was a bright red Austin Healy sports model and we surely looked the part, both dressed in shorts and short sleeved shirts, sunglasses and a camera, but no hats. In those days the sun was not regarded as an enemy and could be enjoyed.

First we headed south towards Galle, which already was a tourist attraction. The road followed the coast with its white beaches and graceful palm trees, then through little fishing villages, where people would come out and waved to us. Their main source of income was the fishing industry and the small coconut plantations. Along the road were empty 44 gallon drums for the collection of the oil by small factories we passed. That must have worked on an honour system.

We sang songs and enjoyed being free and away from the ship and arrived in Galle within three hours. Galle was full of history, mainly from the Dutch settlers from the times of the Dutch East Indian Trading Company, old names and cobble stoned streets running to the old fortification, which was still standing proudly to protect the locals from invaders. There was the old gate to the port and wharves, surrounded by warehouses also dating back to the middle ages. Any restoration was done in a way to preserve the heritage, the whare houses had become offices and the stables had been transformed into housing. You could even find some old canons, statutes and brass nameplates on the houses, where the rich people lived.

For the return route we choose to go further inland via Ratnapuri, which we assumed to be a secondary road and planned on taking five hours. It was a big surprise to find a well maintained sealed road right through the dense jungle, with occasional tea and rubber plantations and small villages. The Austin Healy was a noisy little brute and the noise it made alerted villagers of our arrival to come out to the roadside and watch these two silly sunburned white men racing past and returning their waves and smiles. That route was again scenic, but in a different way, rising from sea level to 3000 feet where there was no other noise, apart the songs of the birds. The road became narrow and we were lucky there was little traffic; hairpin bends down the valley and up again did not give us a good average to maintain our arrival time back in Colombo.

That only lasted till Ratnapuri and with that we knew where we were. A stop in Avissawella in a guest house for a rest and refreshment was a good decision. We inquired for the price of the accommodation, just in case we should have trouble down the road: accommodation with dinner and breakfast included was 8.50 rupees.

We made it back before dark, which was a good thing as the headlights did not work at all. In the East people would congregate on the bitumen at sunset when the air gets cooler.

The whole trip covered 350 miles and took us 10 hours to complete safely without damage.

The Austin Healy became a “write off” the very next day, when driven by one of the junior Engineers.

21 August 1959 in Colombo

The after effects of that beautiful sight seeing trip in the Austin Healy with the roof down was a severe sunburn, bright red and painful with the skin just falling off.

Every evening a number of Officers and Engineers would go ashore to see a sexy cabaret performance in a club called “Atlanta”, or actually not in the club, but in an open air theatre hidden in the shadows of the club. The Chief Engineer would perform his magic tricks on the stage and I was anxious to see what it was all about. I had no idea what to expect and was dressed neatly in open neck shirt, cravat around the neck and a blue blazer to complete the disguise, which was absolutely over the top for the venue that consisted of raw rough timber poles holding up an old tin roof and sides of cardboard and old tea chests. A number of cane chairs were placed on a timber scaffold for invited guests. The show started with a talent quest followed by the “Dancing Girls”, including the six Dutch ladies I had seen on board of the Straat Johore. The Chief Engineer BO really made it all worthwhile, his magic tricks and acts with people in hypnotic trance were absolutely unbelievable.

Slowly but surely the cargo work continued and the end of the loading became in sight as all cargo stowage was well catered for. With that I was not wanted any longer and the Chief Officer changed his attitude once again. That manipulation did not any good as I had received confirmation of getting intermediate leave, with additional time-for-time leave if necessary for my future posting to the Straat Banka. Captain LR was devastated when he came down to give me the news, opening his heart and mind and wishing me the best. I felt very humble.

The man WdG with the nickname of “Mooie Willem” did not last long with the RIL, he appeared only once on the half yearly seniority lists. I even wished him well when I left.

m.s. STRAAT BANKA

01 October 1959 in Port Swettenham

After a whole month at home in Singapore I was posted as 2^nd Officer on the Straat Banka. The ship had been like a second home to me, when I lived in three different cabins, moving from one to the other as I was promoted, during the first two years of my last term with the RIL. Although situated next to the Captain’s sleeping quarters, the cabin I now moved into was not foreign to me , as we had spent many hours with various 2^nd Officers looking for protection and solace from the old fashioned and in our eyes extremely difficult Captains and Chief Officers. Now I had arrived at the hot spot to experience the same...

The handover was non existent as my predecessor had been in a hurry to leave the ship. As a 2^nd Officer you had to create a system to make the administration of the work allotted to you by the RIL Regulations as simple as possible. Somewhere I could not find the thread to start unravelling the system that should have been in place but was not there, which was not surprising as there had been a succession of predecessors and no system had been adopted. All paperwork was piled on a heap and stayed there for some time to come.

The ventilator in the ceiling of my cabin was still leaking, as it had done five years before and could not be closed, just as in 1954, it was seized up with rust. The Straat Banka had no air conditioning, which had always been a promise, but till then had not been put in place. The plans were there and the port side of the top deck, which included my cabin would be first to be connected.

From Singapore to Malacca did not take long, but with the 2^nd Officer doing the 18.00 to 20.00 and the 00.00 to 0400 watch on the bridge, there was little time to settle down. After a bit of discharge it was my turn again to take the ship up to Port Swettenham where, in the late afternoon, we anchored in the middle of the Klang River. The discharge was done in lighters, working from start to finish.

After a quick trip ashore to phone home for the congratulations of my son’s first birthday, I was determined to have a little party, only to find out this was not common practice on this ship. That did change there and then and everyone available attended, including the Captain and the Chief Engineer GJD.

Captain AJS was near the top of the seniority list and had the experience to fall back on. He liked to come across as a grumpy old man, but in fact was a very passionate man with a heart of gold. Born and bred in Amsterdam, he never lost that particular accent which went with a cynical sense of humour.

The Chief Officer WHS was within the top ten of his group that year and he was the prototype of a Dutch Seafarer, blond hair and a forever smiling open face, full of life and a true master of his profession. A person you would wish to have as a friend.

At that stage I was in the lower regions of my peers and had a lot to learn from these two men.

03 October 1959 in Penang

On this ship the wages were done by the Purser and that was the reason I had to do 8 hours watch keeping on the bridge in three lots: 00.00 to 04.00, 12.00 to 14.00 and 18.00 to 20.00 hours. On top of that came the noon and the evening star position calculations. It seemed to be a Royal Navy routine carried out by one person, the navigation done by the 2^nd Officer.

The chronometers had to be wound up and accounted for each morning at 09.00 and reported to the Captain when done. That was clever and gave Captain AJS the opportunity to clear his desk and have a yarn, which could take up a lot of time.

In Penang the Agent clearly remembered me from the Straat Johore on various voyages and with the different Chief Officers, in appreciation for my help he now organised my phone calls to Singapore and provided transport on water and ashore. In those days the availability of personal attention still was a normal way of life.

09 October 1959 in Cochin

During the smooth and uneventful crossing of the Bay of Bengal I slowly but surely found my way around the chartroom, which was my domain for most of the time. Never before did I have the navigation as my main job on board of a ship, which gave the feeling of sitting for exams, with the Captain asking the questions and the Chief Officer providing the drive for producing the excellence of my answers. It did look like a joint effort to ensure that I could take over when required; it kept me fully occupied and my mind on the job.

With the no nonsense approach of the Chief Officer there were no problems with the people from Agencies and Stevedores, as all were fully advised of the work to be done and we were simply told what was requested from us, the work schedules were flexible to a certain point, which made sense. The 3^rd Officer FvW and both 4^th Officers formed a good team and were willing to mix and match work and pleasure as required, just to keep the Chief Officer happy.

13 October 1959 in Bombay

The Straat Banka was worked in the Alexandra Dock, only slightly bigger than the Victoria Dock, but with better transport facilities for the handling of the cargo. From arrival alongside, there were five gangs available to work 24 hours a day until completion. Again everything went as programmed and there were no irate shore people running around the corridors on our deck, looking for direction and advice. I had the regular afternoon and midnight shift and the 3^rd Officer worked the morning and evening shift, with a 4^th Officer if required although the Chief Officer would come on deck to relieve when necessary

19 October 1959 in Colombo

In the two months that I had been away from Colombo something must have changed as there were only eight ships anchored on the Roads and the harbour itself seemed to be only half full. Nonetheless, we received the instructions to drop the anchor and await instructions from the signal station.

That news was not good for the Captain, who suffered a toothache and had hoped for a quick trip to the dentist. He had visited the ship’s surgeon, who in his wisdom had advised him that he had a tooth infection that needed urgent treatment, without offering a remedy.

Cargo ships carrying more than 12 passengers had to have a qualified medical person on board. In my experience these Ship’s Doctors usually had a colourful or questionable background and came on the ship with weird ideas. This one was always scared to be spied upon, wanted the deck outside his cabin kept clear and even had tried prohibiting the Engineers using the passage past his cabin, on their way to the mess room. He did not seem to have any friends and surely did not mix with anyone on board, least of all with the Captain.

The cargo list came on board promising 2200 tons of cargo to be loaded when the export paperwork was done and after that depending on the availability of labour, showing that nothing had changed in that department. Getting a berth alongside the wharf for the discharge of the reefer cargo was a definite advantage because lighters were also in short supply. There were sufficient in the port, but half were still full of imports due to lack of storage space in the port area. Bags of flour imported under the Colombo Plan, remained in the lighters and became infested by weevils and subsequently condemned. Paper bags of cement could not withstand the humidity and eventually solidified into one solid mass of concrete. It was quite obvious that the logistics were not in place.

To keep loading what was offered the cargo stowage plan was continuously amended. It was in the nature of Chief Officer WHS to please everybody and he nearly became trapped in giving away too much space, too early. His system of promoting teamwork prevented a major disaster, which would have resulted in excessive double handing of cargo in Australian Ports.

The rainy season did not help the work load on deck. At the first sight of a squall on the horizon the rain tents were hung over the open hatches and when in the second half of the shift, all the labour would happily walk off the ship and could not be persuaded to come back.

The Missions to Seamen had organised a soccer match and with a larger crew to select players from, there was a rotation system in place. With the prevailing wet weather continuing, I was only too pleased to stay on board. Captain AJS was a strong supporter of the game and was the first at the gangway to play his part. He was dressed in good old Australian style garden pants and shirt, an Akubra hat on his head and wearing heavy duty gum boots, an Indonesian “pajong”, which is an oiled paper umbrella with a semi circle handle, hanging from his collar down his back in the Indian tradition. Not withstanding the rain and loosing by two goals it was a successful event that helped to improve the atmosphere on board.

Birthdays were becoming an excuse for a gathering and on a few occasions the film projector from the Purser’s Office was allowed to come up to the mess room for the use of by the junior Officers and Engineers.

On a Sunday evening when all work on deck was stopped we had a party, jointly funded for my birthday celebration and the farewell of the 3^rd Officer FvW. Everyone was invited and I had made sure there would be enough to eat and drink, the Chief Cook had bought 15 chickens for the occasion, which were served with big platters of fresh prawns and a selection of salads. Rather then sitting at the dinner tables, we had formed a big circle and mixed the ranks, occasionally switching seats. That turned out to be a good move for the Captain was now one of the boys and loved every minute of it, leading the Dutch traditional singsongs in his Mokum’s accent. The Wireless Operator performed magic tricks and the runner from the Agency Aitken Spence & Co just happened to have his clarinet in his car and was quite willing to do his part. That feast went on till 02.00 in the morning and that was just what was needed to keep the sanity in the dreary port of Colombo.

29 October 1959 in Colombo

There seemed to be no end in sight, after ten days in Colombo we had only done one quarter of the cargo work. Every time a different excuse was used for the non performance or non appearance of labour, even when more than fifty lorries with tea rolled up on the wharf, just to be returned because it started to rain. Both the Chief Cargo Clerk and the No 1 Fireman had hire cars on the wharf behind the shed, with the keys hanging in the Office for our use. Long trips were out of the question because of the weather, but errands to the Agency and some shopping was done in style in the ancient vehicles, a Hillman and a Renault Dauphine.

It was really amazing that these cars always found the way to the Galleface Hotel, where cold refreshment gave a feeling of colonial well being.

The Dehiwala Zoo was always a popular escape from life on board of a ship in Colombo Harbour as it was not far from the centre of town and on the way to Mount Lavinia Resort. At that time I was not aware of the way the zoo was maintained, later on the Straat Cook the story will be told as I became personally involved with the part owner of the complex.

Passengers, Officers and Engineers were invited to the Annual Police Ball that was being held in a police training camp, some 40 kilometres from Colombo. Initially they were requested to come in uniform, but that changed to smart casual. The dress up was already an experience in itself; socks and ties, shirts and blazers were in great demand and with all the excitement there was no necessity for alcohol to get the boys in the mood. My clothes drawers were raided and I was happy to contribute to the good cause. A couple of old Volkswagen buses came to pick them up, but nobody could tell me what mode of transport they had when they came back on board at five in the morning. The following day various cars came to pick up people in answer to invitations received and not remembered, some widowers saw the chance to find a solid Dutch man for their unmarried daughters. The stories that were told varied from day to day. That was followed up by a party on board where the girls arrived, so heavily chaperoned by mothers and brothers that all the bold ideas were dampened before the start.

Without air-conditioned living quarters this ship was so different from the Straat Johore, where the dress code was covered by the RIL Regulations and strictly policed by the Captain. Casual clothes were allowed in the cabins, but preferably not in places where visible by passengers. On the Straat Banka the uniform was only worn when on duty and in the mess room, otherwise you could wear what you found comfortable in the circumstances. Captain AJS loved his striped pyjamas that the Stewardess had modified for the tropics by shortening the trouser legs and the shirt sleeves. Soon after 21.00, when he would retire from the day’s activities, he would wear them and wander around his cabin and on the little deck space, he called his patio, on bare feet, fiddling with bits of wood to sand or brass to polish.

One morning all cargo work was stopped at 04.00 to allow the labour to collect their pays. Still wide awake I teamed up with the Engineer coming of the midnight shift when we decided to go sightseeing in Colombo before sunrise, using one of the hire cars we had promised to refuel. Just outside the gate we came to a grinding halt and had to shift ten cows, sleeping peacefully in the middle of the road. It was quiet in town and boring, most service stations were still shut and we were well and truly lost, somewhere in an outer suburb. That moment we spotted some activity and went to investigate to find the site of a Russian Trade Fair under construction. The local guards refused to cooperate and to show their authority started to shout, which brought a Russian on the scene at the entrance. There we were, two young men; one in uniform and one in a white greasy boilersuit, introducing ourself as workers of a Dutch merchant ship. That was accepted and we were given a short time to look around, guarded by two armed and silent Russian strongmen. It was an eye opener to see the latest in Russian technology looking very old fashioned to us, Moskovitch cars looking like an old model Opel Record, huge tractors and other agricultural machinery down to the everyday utensils were being unpacked and put on show.

Arriving back on board there were a number of strange looks as it was not often that people went ashore between 05.00 and 06.00 to visit a Trade Fair.

03 November 1959 in Colombo

The last day we broke all records to load the balance of cargo and departed the same night.

19 November 1959 in Tandjung Priok

This voyage the Straat Banka had been in Singapore for three days and two nights, of which I was lucky to spend one night at home. This was mainly due to the departure of the Chief Officer WHS, who was replaced by AJZ, both living in Singapore and taking advantage of their seniority. The second night my wife stayed on board with me. The changeover went well as the two men were matched in their professionalism, although they were the complete opposite in character, where the one was open and happy from the start, the other came across as sour and cynical until you got to know what made him tick. This was my third encounter with AJZ, after sailing with him when he was 2^nd Officer on this ship in 1954 and we sailed together on the Straat Bali in 1956, where he served as Chief Officer and I was 3^rd Officer, I had learned to respect the person as a leader and seaman, regardless of the strange ideas he held to life in general.

The 3^rd Officer FvW went home on leave and left a hole in our team, which was filled by the 4^th Officer RJV, a hard working red head who knew what was required on this ship.

On a ship with so many passengers the departure time had to be on the noticeboard outside the Purser’s Office early in the day to ensure they were all back before departure. Even that was sometimes not good enough and could cause reasons for complaints when cargo work forced a delay and was claimed as wasted shopping time ashore, at least it prevented sailing too early and farewells could be said in good time.

During the midnight watch on the way south the peace was disturbed by numerous signals from various warships, partaking in a fleet exercise of Russians and Indonesians, including a battleship, six destroyers and a number of smaller craft. It was very impressive and I was intending to keep my course until politely ordered to keep distance, which was just as well as the progress of their manoeuvres was unpredictable. It was a clear moonlit night and a flat sea reflecting the fast moving vessels playing “catch me as you can” , at one time coming right at us from three directions, I just went out to sea and give them more room to play. My change of course caused a variation in the rhythm of the sound of our engine, which was enough to wake the Captain, who came out to visit the bridge, had a quick look and uttered one grunt before turning in again, which meant that he had agreed with my action.

All the warship’s had priority in Tandjung Priok and we had to wait at outside until after noon. The Tjiwangi was alongside the wharf and it did not take long of all the fleet gossip from Hong Kong had come across bringing us up to date with all what was said to have happened in the bedrooms of people living in the East.

The pilferage of cargo had increased and we counteracted with additional supervision of ship’s crew on deck and in the hatches, which made some impression during working hours. But in the middle of the night an organised gang came on board and opened a corner of hatch number 5, before being spotted by the Quartermaster on duty, who was threatened and came to wake up all the Officers. I was first on the spot to find three men in military uniform and three others ripping bales of cotton piece goods to bits and dropping the contents on the wharf, where it was loaded in an army vehicle. The one I fronted pulled a nasty looking gun, which scared the wits out of me until I saw his face go ashen by seeing the rest of the boys turning out on the deck above him. The thieves panicked and ran, but did not leave the wharf immediately, which gave me time to take down the registration number of the truck. A last look for more culprits in the hold found a burning candle standing on a bale of fibre, which could have been the cause of fire if not found at the time. The theft was reported to the RIL Agency but no action was taken whilst we were there in fear of delaying the ship. We never heard anymore about the incident and actually did not expect that as we had only done our job by looking after the interest of the owners of the cargo on board of our ship. The fact that the outcome could have been different was not so important; the end result was what was counted. Looking into the barrel of a gun did not make news in those days.

20 November 1959 in Padangbaai in Bali

Finding a safe spot to anchor was very important in the bay, which was subject to strong underwater currents and fast upcoming surf, with the ship providing shelter for our only lifeboat with a diesel engine, to be used to ferry the passengers ashore as there was nothing better available in the village. I had been there before and was elected to show the 3^rd Officer the way to the little jetty in a boat full of whinging people, who had expected a different kind of transport. Getting them off the gangway into the boat was hard work to start off with and making them understand that only a certain amount of them could make the first trip and others had to wait their turn, was the start of arguments, which I left to the Purser to sort out. If the passengers had any complaints about the ferry service in the morning, they were facing a different sea in the afternoon, when I was forced to take the lifeboat ferry service again to give the 3^rd Officer a break. As predicted in the afternoon the sea wind and surf increased and waves were rolling in fast and furious. The passengers had been on various excursions and some came back very late, causing me to get that nasty feeling of “been there, done that”, when on one trip I was forced to follow the Straat Banka half way to the island of Lombok, before there was sufficient leeway and calm sea to get the whole caboodle back on board. One “gentleman” insisted that I had to make an extra run to take him back immediately and swearing like a trooper threatening to take action for not complying with his wishes. When all passengers were accounted for and we headed back it was becoming dark and the sea was rough, the man turned green and spewed uncontrollable in the bottom of the boat. The Purser had “special” drinks ready for the survivors of that last trip and back on board, the stories of the “last ferry trip” became more adventurous by the minute. The man with the big mouth stayed away. The passengers had sent a delegation to the Captain, reporting their side of the story, just in case the threats were followed up.

That was a day and a half, which had started for me at midnight and had been full of action until after departure, when the anchor would not come home because of an old fashioned knot in the cable, which was to be cleared whilst sailing full speed in the dark night, a procedure taking nearly one hour. By then it was near the end of my watch and the 3^rd Officer came up to take over when the Captain stood behind me and with one arm around my shoulders he offered me a big glass of cold beer as a “thank you” for the efforts on the day. That spontaneous gesture from an old seafarer to a junior I have always remembered as an example of good management: it did not have to cost much to show your appreciation.

30 November 1959 in Brisbane

Without the break at Bali, the stretch from Tandjung Priok to Brisbane was the longest time spent at sea in this service, sailing along the 8^th degree parallel on the southern hemisphere to the eastern end of Timor in the Java and Flores Sea where we were always in sight of land on the starboard side. Then across the Arafura Sea towards the Gulf of Carpentaria, where the little orange light vessel would welcome us home and direct us to the Torres Strait and the Great Barrier Reef.

It could have been a leisure cruise for us, which was spoiled by the additional watch keeping when the Chief Officer AJZ was ordered to stay off his badly swollen and infected feet. The shock of coming back to work after eight months and the running in of new shoes was being blamed for his pain, although the Captain accused the Doctor for causing the infection of the blisters between the toes and on the back of the heel, it definitely did not look pretty.

We moved into six hour watch keeping on the bridge, I did 00.00 to 06.00 and 18.00 to 20.00 and the ship’s maintenance and navigation. The 3^rd Officer kept the 20.00 to 24.00 and the 06.00 to 12.00 whilst the Captain had the 4^th Officers sharing the 12.00 to 18.00 with him.

Each day the ship used 40 tons of freshwater and 30 tons of fuel oil from the tanks in the double bottom, causing stability problems when not counteracted by the pumping and use of ballast water. By being too nice to the people in Colombo, too much easy access space in the lower holds had been used for lightweight cargo and the heavier timber and rubber from Singapore had ended up in the upper decks. The centre of gravity had to be monitored daily, a job to keep the Chief Officer happy and to stop his interference with his own job, which must have been very hard for him.

With that we entered the Great Barrier Reef and another new experience in doubling up on the bridge. With Captain CdW there were always two Officers on the bridge from the start at the Torres Strait till the end at the Whitsunday Passage, whilst he would spend most of the time sitting on “The Barrier Stool” in a corner of the wheelhouse. That chair came out of the chartroom for the occasion only as normally you would not find a chair of any description on the bridge of a RIL ship. Captain LR called the doubles for the first 36 hours and Captain AWS was happy with only the first 24 hours through the tricky part. Most of the time I was left on my own when the weather was fine and the visibility was good, which I enjoyed with the knowledge that I could always call on a 4^th Officer to assist if required. In those days it was not compulsory to take a Pilot on board. Our opposition on the India service was the Blue Funnel Line, whose vessels would not only take the Pilot on board, but also went at anchor from sunset to daybreak; it was one way to beat those fast ships to Brisbane.

On the Straat Banka the Captain’s quarter were on the portside behind the wheelhouse on the bridge deck and the 2^nd Officer’s cabin was next followed by the Chief Officer’s cabin on the end of the accommodation. A narrow deck ran around the outside from the bridge aft, which was the favourite exercise track of Captain AWS, not only to stretch his legs but also another avenue to socialise. On a ship without air conditioned cabins the windows were kept open to create some cool air blowing through the cabins in the tropics, offering a perfect opportunity for him to look for a listener to his woes. With one arm resting on the window sill you knew it was going to be a long tale in which each and all would be covered, down to the poor quality of the newly supplied erasers for the chartroom, which were too soft for H2 pencil and therefore not economical, whilst they were too hard for any other use. More often then not he would complain for the sake of having a yarn, even if it was often one sided, he meant well.

In Brisbane alongside the wharf of the Dalgety Wool Stores to be welcomed by familiar faces of the Agency and Stevedores and also the news to expect some delays as the labour was negotiating new contracts, which was all organised by the Unions anyhow. First there was a shortage of labour, and then we had a lot of rain, which was followed by a strike in support for an incident that happened in another port, stopping the work on the waterfront in all the major ports around Australia. But when the Wharfies returned they needed to make up for the loss in wages and we were compelled to pay the cost of overtime, which eventually helped to remain our schedule for the programmed dry docking in Sydney.

Brisbane had turned on the rain, the heat and the humidity, from which there was no escape on board and when the Greenslopes Hospital phoned for help in the manning of a party, there were numerous volunteers. That was a good sign that the tradition had not been spoiled and resulted in some sad farewells when it was time to sail for Sydney.

08 December 1959 in Sydney

Arriving on a Sunday morning in Sydney at Walsh Bay meant that all the shore people wanted our immediate attention in order to make the most of their day at home; the RIL Agency competed with the Custom and Immigration Authorities, Patrick’s Stevedores and the Engineers from Cockatoo Dock, it was bedlam from the start until they discovered that taking turns was the answer to getting attended to.

By midday it was all over and no further work was done, giving me the chance to go ashore and visit friends, after all, I had done twelve hours work already. My friends lived in Turramurra, where my wife was born, and 14 stations north of Wynyard Station at the cost of “two and six” for the one way trip, which I had bought by forgetting to ask for a return trip. Those things were too technical and strange for a seafarer. A roast dinner with a leg of lamb, baked potatoes and pumpkin, peas and carrots, all covered with a strong mint sauce was offered instead of a good old-fashioned barbeque, I had hoped for. The fresh fruit salad and cream was a welcome dessert.

On the Monday there were a few nasty incidents I had to cope with as the Chief Officer was still not “on deck”, the Captain had gone home and I was left with the spoils. It went well up to the point where arguments on deck became shouting matches and a fight was about to start. All work had stopped to watch the performance, the Wharfies were taking bets and our Chinese Crew had also dropped their tools. A consignee had come on board to explain that the delays of imports on the wharves had forced him to stand down their whole workforce, 400 men and women were involved. Macarthur Industries obviously had not played the game of the day and was left waiting for his supplies of fibre products. Being unaware of the working of priorities on the Australian waterfront I then altered the sequence of discharge to make the cargo available in the shed. That seemed to have worked as the first truck was on the road in a matter of hours and they conveyed their appreciation. The only unhappy person was a Patrick’s Supervisor, who had hoped to make a fast quid and never did forget that day, when I asked him to leave the ship.

The Royal Sydney Hospital phoned for the assistance of healthy males, which was the normal procedure in Australia and again well attended. The return party on board was disappointing when some girls had taken various cigarette lighters and fountain pens as souvenirs. It seemed that that particular group was not very popular and we could have known if we had asked the old man at the gate for his opinion, the long retired ex Commodore of the KPM and once Master of the old Nieuw Holland knew them all, seeing them come and go and over the years letting the past quietly repeat itself.

Another day and another strike, something to do with the “wages margins” stopped the waterfront. We were not affected as it rained the whole day. Former Wireless Operator JP and his wife came to visit and I got an insight in the life ashore. After ten days holidays he had a job as Maintenance Engineer (Avionics) with Qantas at Mascot Airport and after four months full time training he was working by himself as a Licensed Aircraft Maintenance Engineer (Avionics), inspecting radio installations on arriving planes, doing repairs and writing reports. He was earning Aus £27 a week and any amount of overtime when required. They looked happy and were looking forward to buying their first car and then a block of land or a house.

13 December 1959 in Melbourne

This ship did have a problem; it always had been acting like a floating vibrator. I can remember that we had a whole group of experts on board doing tests by placing weights on the propeller shaft, but nothing had ever solved the problem completely. When it worked at one certain speed and cargo distribution, all was lost again a few days later.

This time we were running behind schedule for the dry-docking in Sydney and went full speed to Melbourne, the weather was awful and the seas seemed to come from all over the place, without any notice producing big swells where the ship would dive into head first, to be thrown around and slide away off the top. With the light ship and now too much stability, she would shudder and tremble, even before the propeller came above water. Nothing could stay on the tables, soup and peas were definitely off the menu.

The Chief Officer AJZ is not doing well, the ship’s Doctor could not pinpoint the reason for the infection and a visit to a Specialist in Sydney was not worth the money he had charged. Meanwhile I enjoyed playing the Captain’s Junior Chief Officer as he introduced me to the shore people, but it was hard work and no extra pay, apart for the overtime worked.

Both RIL Sydney and Sanderson in Melbourne had booked the ship as a venue for functions for the exporters and importers of cargo, Dutch consular dignitaries and VIP’s, local leaders of the industries with a number of wives and some female executives. In Sydney there were 250 on the list and in Melbourne 180 turned up to be entertained. These parties were not interfering with the normal work of the Officers, except the Catering Department, which was stressed to the limits. On the whole we could expect to receive some of the left overs the following day, which very much depended on the Chief Steward and the Cooks.

20 December 1959 in Sydney

Sailing back to Sydney we had a very calm sea, which allowed us to hug the shoreline and get the advantage of the return current and better views of the country side. Without any cargo on board she was lying very high in the water and it would have been an unpleasant journey if had been a week earlier. Now we just had the constant vibration with the propeller only partly submerged. At daybreak we took the Pilot on board. When sailing through the Heads, a telegram came in with the advice to slow down for a late afternoon arrival as the berth at Cockatoo Dock was not yet available. There were questions to be asked later, as the Pilot was at the end of his duty roster on this Sunday morning and refused to go back out to sea again.

We anchored in Sydney Harbour and had the chance of a lifetime to watch the City waking up and getting into action, with the Manly Ferries sailing to and fro, smaller crafts carrying people from shore to shore and even the seaplanes flying in and out of Rose Bay. Then the yachts came out on the water including the competitors of the Sydney Hobart Race making last minute practice runs for the Boxing Day start.

21 December 1959 – 11 January 1960 in Sydney

The newspaper headlines for this day were full of the trial run in Hobart, where the cinemas have been operating on a Sunday, the first time it was ever tried in Australia, which proved to be a great success and could be followed by the other State Capitals in the near future.

The move from the colourful spectacle at Watson Bay to the dreary outlook from Cockatoo Dry dock was the start of a new ball game. It did offer a variety of happenings and consequences; the Captain went home and the Chief Officer would have a chance to go to hospital, the Junior Officers were quickly reminded of their commitments promised to the females at various parties during our last visit, who all knew that we would be here for some time and that there was nowhere to hide on the island. I was happy with the job that was to be done because ship’s maintenance always had been more than just work.

The work started slowly as we had to share the workforce with the Helenius of the Blue Funnel Line, standing inside the graven dock. Those ships were our competition, not only in the Trade, but also by having nurses at parties on board, but luckily from different Hospitals. That company supplied all their ships with a television set whilst in Australian ports, a gesture we envied very much.

Ship’s repairs in Australia were always subject to Union Rules. There was a small hairline crack in the rear bulkhead of the superstructure, which was marked to be welded and then to be painted. It was simply a job for the “welders” to be completed in a few minutes. However, as it was above shoulder height, the “riggers” were called in to build a work platform that was first used by the “shipwrights” to scrape off the paint down to bare metal. Because the crack was near the wooden deck, the “carpenters” were employed to take the wood away. Adjacent to the crack was an electric light and the “electricians” were instructed to remove the light. The electric cables went into a pipe to the next deck and this called for the “plumbers”. Now it was time for action and the “fire-fighters” decided that there was a need for a bucket of water, a few bags of sand and a fire extinguisher. That little job took the whole working day and the “welders” could not be asked to break their concentration to repair something else in the meantime.

When showing the Foreman the job at hand, he would advise his crew on the action required, upon which they would leave the ship to select their equipment in the workshop ashore, which was brought back on board by the ”dockworkers”, who would also take the gear back ashore.

Every “tea break” and “lunch hour” was preceded by 10 minutes travelling time to the canteen and 10 minutes “washing time”; just to have a cup of tea and a sandwich,

It was trying and tiring to watch the performance.

Inter departmental communications received a reminder of importance when we nearly lost our Purser. Repairs in the domestic refrigeration room had commenced as soon as the room had been emptied by the Catering staff. During one of the tea breaks the Purser thought it to be a good idea to have a look at the progress and found that the room had been locked by the Duty Engineer to prevent people wondering into an area where CO2 was hanging in the air. He possessed another key, entered and was overcome by the gas, causing him to faint. Luckily, the Chief Engineer walked past and dragged him out into the passage, asking the Storekeeper to call the Ship’s Surgeon. Explaining excitedly that his boss had fainted, the Doctor replied: “Go now and tell him to come up to the Surgery when he comes to!”

Christmas 1959 was not celebrated on board and could have gone by unnoticed, apart from a small partly decorated tree in the corner of the mess room and the fact that there was no work done in the Dock. Being a Holiday in Australia seemed a good enough reason for the crew to do the same. All the Stewards had stayed in bed in a confusion of their duty roster and I found the Quartermaster on the bridge asleep on the chartroom table, from which he tumbled on the deck when he turned over when I woke him up. It was “peace on earth” in a different way, but nice and quiet anyway.

Most people with acquaintances ashore had stayed with their friends; the 3^rd Officer RJV had to spend that night on a bench in a park, after he and his new nursing friend had missed the deadline of her curfew at the Nurses Hostel. He did claim to have studied “nature” to pass the time.

The Chief Officer AJZ had received a complete set of cargo lists from all ports on the coast and could keep himself busy with creating a plan that was bound to be changed before we even were alongside the loading berth in Sydney.

The Captain went home to be with his wife and her mother, where she normally lived. That became a little bit too much for him and he made various trips back to the ship to air his feelings that all and everything his wife proposed did cost a lot of money. The fact that his peers had bought houses on a bit of acreage that could carry a few sheep, chickens, livestock or a horse of two also was bad news to his ears for it smelled like spending money, which he did not like to do.

The Chief Cook mentioned a wooden box in a storeroom, which he thought was to be opened at Christmas. We searched and found it stowed away in a dark corner and decided to have a look inside, numerous little surprise parcels, all neatly wrapped by the ladies of a Dutch Church organisation to help sailors in faraway ports to celebrate Christmas. That effort should have been honoured with a small party, but nothing could be arranged as there were not sufficient people on board. The presents were shared and I did write a letter of thanks.

The Blue Funnel Liner sharing the docking facilities with us created headlines in the local newspapers when a body was found in one of the holds and homicide police force came on the island. It was more likely an accident than murder, as he could be seen from the open hatchway. However, soon the story went around that he had been the male part of a couple, visiting the ship and he had caused friction between the sailors about his female companion. He could have been tossed inboard instead of overboard, the plot thickened without notice.

Extending their holiday period, the shipwrights went on strike, affecting most of the work to be done on the ship, upsetting all the plans, which were so carefully put together. At one stage there was even a mention of going to New Castle for the docking; the other alternative was to wait till Bombay.

01 January 1960 in Sydney

As with Christmas the end of the year celebrations was a non-event for those people, who remained on board, answering the call of duty. It was an eerie experience walking through the passageways with no living beings anywhere when I made my last round over the ship. Then I saw an open door and the two engineers, who had finished their shift at 20.00, had started as soon as they had their showers to welcome in the coming year. The glassy looks in their eyes told the story, but in the spirit of the occasion they asked me in. The older one got up and fell over, then the younger one came up to help him, but by bending over he vomited all over him and sagged through his knees. Both were still breathing and that was enough for me to continue the round through the ship, closing off the eventful year 1959.

Well before the clock in the chartroom chimed eight bells, I was fast asleep.

The year had finished on a sour note with the Captain complaining bitterly about the mess on the decks, left by the dockworkers when they walked off when the whistle went to summon them ashore for a drink and they never returned that day. With the Chief Officer AZ out of action I was in charge and copped the lot as if I was also responsible for the actions of all the shore workmen in the dockyard. He only stopped after I tried to convince him that I had done whatever I could and my limit was reached. If not happy he was welcome to sack me there and then as I was not going to accept more abuse from him. It is an understatement to say that I had not lost my temper and saw another conduct statement coming up for signature.

In the contrary, it worked and he was a different person when he went home.

The end of 1959 was followed by a weekend, creating a long period of nothing, which made me think how Australia could ever compete with the rest of the world and remain economical viable by its own efforts. All shops were closed and even essential services were limited to give people time to go to the beaches and private BBQ’s. Not surprising that most goods were more expensive than in other countries.

One bad show of temper followed with another one when I was told by the Ship’s Surgeon not to have my hair cut on the deck outside his cabin next to the mess room. This was done because the electricity was cut to the Saloon and that particular piece of deck was chosen by the Barber as it was downwind and allowing the clippings to go over the side. The Doctor reported the incident to the Captain, who questioned me why I choose to have my haircut in working hours, even if it was on the weekend. My simple answer that my hair was growing during the working hours seemed to please him and ended the saga.

The Doctor was an elderly person with a definite character problem, which was an obvious requirement to be signed on as a Ship’s Surgeon. When the ship was put on the blocks in the dry dock, he refused to use the amenities offered and settled down with a large chamber pot in the surgery, which he carried ashore each morning to empty and clean in the amenities block. He would wear rubber gloves, a long dark blue uniform raincoat over his short pyjamas and a black French beret on his head. It was unfortunate that the pan had no lid, because when he was accidentally bumped by a dockworker on the gangway on his way off the ship, the contents spilled and dripped from the bottom of the satchel he was holding under his arm. Once in the amenity block he insisted on his rights entitled to his advanced age, to be left on his own and told everyone to use the other venue, being very vocal at that.

To clear my head I had to get away from work and left the ship with the 3^rd Officer, whilst I spent the morning wandering in town, eating ice cream and reading the papers in Hyde Park, sitting on a bench underneath those fabulous old trees and being pooped on by pigeons.

The Straat Johore was berthed at Walsh Bay and that was a good enough reason for a visit and to hear some RIL gossip. At the gangway I was welcomed by Captain LR like a long lost son, happy to share his best news with me that “Mooie Willem”, the Chief Officer WdG, had been sacked without notice for misappropriating large sums of money when in charge of the wages on the KPM ships

People came and people left; they formed teams to find a way to make the work on board as pleasant and productive as possible. The interaction of the Officers could tell the story and in this case it seemed to be good enough for the Rules to be relaxed a little, the men were happy.

I could not miss the Chief Cargo Clerk WSY, with whom I had sailed with on various ships. He was very serious when inquiring if I had financial problems, because he had heard the story going around that I did have the use of the hired cars from the crew in Colombo, driving in and out of the security gate. Apparently, those cars were said to be stacked with contraband, something I never knew and I thanked him for the warning. I had always known him to be leader of some importance, but with the RIL you did learn fast not to get involved.

I had always stayed clear of the smuggling, which was accepted and appreciated. But the man had become a friend at arm’s length and had always been concerned for the personal safety of my family in Singapore. For that he had provided a lifeline to be used when in trouble. A simple phone call to a store in town with the mention of his name would have been sufficient to get immediate assistance to whatever was needed, without further questions asked.

Another vessel, making use of the Cockatoo Dry dock was an English submarine to undergo minor repairs. She was only very small and it was hard to believe at first glance that the crew of 65 men could be accommodated inside. The Officer’s wardroom was smaller than my cabin and housed eight people. The whole thing was designed to find and sink enemy ships; even the sailors had the expression in their eyes of seeing a good target when looking at another ship that could be a good catch.

After the long weekend most of our crew returned on board and we were treated on goodies, which were prepared to be eaten at the celebration of New Year’s Eve. The Chief Cook had done his best, but nothing had been taken out of the refrigerator because the unmarked trays were shifted and could not be found. The truth could be that they were not on the menu or scheduled to be presented at that time

On 05 January 1960 we were ready to be moved into the dry dock, notwithstanding the absence of Shipwrights, as the Management had decided to use the Apprentices to do the outstanding work, being very careful not to touch anything that had been started by member of the various unions. That work was put in the too hard basket as the proposal to use non-union labour whilst alongside No5 Walsh Bay would have seen the wharfies run off at the first smell of “scabbing”. Three tugs moved the ship into the dock and after another mass meeting of the dockworkers things looked to go ahead, when the door closed and water started to be pumped out. It was an exciting period with the ship without power, lying in a draining bowl was subject to the action of the outcome of another mass meeting that saw most men walking away and a new contingency appearing on the ferry. These men boarded the rafts and started scrubbing and scraping the hull as the water level went down, never stopping the heated discussions in Italian whilst working. They should have had at least four hands each, two for working and the other two for emphasising their statements, which was done one handed. The foreman explained that they were not talking about working conditions but telling each other their latest exploits of love. These men came to do a job and disappeared again after clearing their own gear out of the dock, but leaving the fish at the grating of the main drain.

On 08 January 1960 the water was let onto the dock after all repairs had been completed and the hull freshly painted with anti corrosive and anti fouling paints, the door was opened and three tugs towed to our loading berth at Walsh Bay. That was not the end of the dock period as the repairs; outstanding due to the strike by the shipwrights still had to be completed. For this occasion the same people returned to work under different rules, which seemed to be acceptable to both sides. Cargo work commenced and the Chief Officer was back on deck, giving me time to go ashore during the coming weekend and visit JP, the former Wireless Operator from my time on the Straat Johore, then living in Bexley.

JP had warned me that on the weekend there could be no buses running on Sunday, forcing the use of a taxi, which would have cost me 3½ shillings each way from Rockdale Station. The early morning walk to the Wynyard Station was well timed with the temperature forecast to reach the mid thirties. The train stopped at all stations and was rapidly filling with people dressed for the beach, short shorts and singlets for the men and bikini outfits for the girls. The bus service was in place and brought me to Bexley, where JP and his wife were sharing small typical Australian house with a tin roof and a toilet in the back of a large block of land. Apart from the low flying airplanes using Mascot Airport, it was quiet and peaceful.

They had a bedroom and a kitchenette for themselves in the rear and shared the rest of the house with a widow and her son. JP was washing his overalls on a concrete slab in the back when I arrived, where I kept him company after the welcome with a cold beer, which went down well. After a beautiful meal, which included banana pie topped with ice cream, we went to the beach for a taste of the cool sea breeze.

That was a pleasant break in the routine and happenings on a ship in dry dock and a suitable farewell to Sydney, because as from the following day we were on our way home to Singapore, without a sailing schedule.

14 January 1960 in Portland

The Straat Banka was ready for departure from the berth at No5 Walsh Bay on Monday 12 January 1960 after all the available cargo had been loaded and the passengers had embarked; the people staying behind were standing on the wharf still duly attached to their friends on board by a multitude of coloured streamers, in an act to prolong the farewell of loved ones. Looking down from the bridge it was hard to see the true emotions in the eyes as the noisy farewell party had been going for some time that afternoon.

The Senior Harbour Pilot was on the bridge and the RIL Agent made his way down the gangway with arms full of papers and an important look on his face, to this day I would still question what he was really thinking about when standing there in the middle of that inebriated bunch, gazed at by idle wharfies waiting for the next ship to occupy the berth.

Two big tugboats were employed to pull the ship off the wharf into the middle of the river with the sharp end pointing to the Heads. That first burst of compressed air to start the engine was always a welcome sound, proving that all the work that had been done in the dry dock had not been in vain and that that powerful machine still worked.

Then we went back to sea and on the way clockwise around Australia to my homeport Singapore, without knowing our next port of call. Both Portland and Devonport were congested and the Melbourne waterfront was on strike when we were sailing south along the coast of New South Wales. A telegram was received, explaining that the congestion in Portland was caused by our cargo filling the sheds on the wharves, preventing other ships to be worked as there was no more space available to store their exports; we were more than a week late. That solved that problem and with the help of a strong current we just continued in that direction and made good time. When the RIL Agency in Sydney had “lost” a few of our charts, which had to be updated at the RAN Depot, it had to be just those we needed for this voyage, which I corrected in my own time to my own satisfaction, just to make sure that we could face any change of scheduling possible. That little oversight could have had big consequences if there had been an accident.

It was foggy at sea in the early morning when we approached the coast to make a landfall at Portland, the radar proving the aid to navigation it was meant to be. After the sun came through, the world opened up, offering a vista of a beautiful green countryside and rolling hills right before our eyes. Portland looked like a picture postcard village set in a landscape of agricultural delight, with lush green paddocks, crisscrossed by white fencing, containing the cattle that were never interested in our arrival and continued grazing to eventually supply the Nestlé’s Factory with the main income for this area: milk products, a long way ahead of tourism.

There were no professional wharf labourers in this port and all the work on board was done by locals; shopkeepers, office clerks and tradesmen voluntarily formed gangs of labour, working under the supervision of foremen and stevedores, who were brought down from Melbourne. Morris Crawford of Sandersons in Melbourne came down to be the local Agent.

The driver of the only petrol tanker in town was working the winches at the rear of hatch no2, leaving his truck parked at the end of the wharf. The local policeman was the hatch man, i.e. the man in charge of the movement of cargo from the wharf over the rail and into the hold. On Sunday the religious leaders of different dominations would work side by side in the holds as the overtime was a valuable addition to their church coffers. In our view the villagers made the most of the opportunity to work the ship and offered us a nice change, compared with the overpaid union members, looking for every change to rort the system in the big ports.

It seemed that the whole township was interested in this ship, from the moment the sign saying that visitors were welcome appeared at the foot of the gangway, it became a constant stream of people making their way on board and filling every passage, admiring the passenger accommodation and all facilities. Personal privacy was completely lost when I was in my cabin writing a letter home and sightseers just walked in and stood there looking around.

Next to the wharf were the beach and a caravan camping place, with the consequence that a large number of our guests were in beach wear, giving the passengers sufficient grounds to protest to the Purser when they had to share their dearly paid for luxurious surrounds with bare footed and half naked bodies. That was when the notice was amended and the visitors were restricted to invitations only. The poor Chinese Quartermaster on duty at the top of the gangway had a hard task to stop the flow; he did not really wanted to manhandle bikini clad girls on his own accord and asked for assistance when six lovely maidens tried to get past. I did escort one down the steps only to find out that she was an invited guest later that evening.

It was during the meal hour at 03.00 in the night of 15 January 1960, when I started writing the letter to my wife in Singapore, from which I did get this story of our visit to Portland. The work continued around the clock, three gangs during the day and two at the twilight and night shifts. There was actually one more gang available and duly paid for, but these persons never made it on board of the ship; they were paid to look after the work and odd jobs that the people on board could not do, like milking the cows, minor office work and helping out in shops and stores, where the proprietor had volunteered to go to work the ship.

At the start of the afternoon shift there was a problem when the required number rostered for work was one short because his cow was due to calve, which he had to attend to, as we were advised by his youngest daughter arriving on horseback on the wharf. The Supervisor disappeared to the nearest pub and came back with a suitably sober replacement, solving any further problems; the whole incident had taken less than ten minutes.

There was a carnival this weekend and we were in the centre of it all. The rollercoaster’s and all other equipment had been set up near the beach at the end of the wharf causing the sea and sun lovers to be all over the place, it was a remarkable scenery, even at that time. People were interested in the way we lived on board and kept asking questions about the reasons , why we left our families behind for a job on the ship, what did we know about our children growing up without a father, all things very important to them and only a fact of life to us. It really did start the mind appreciating the differences in life styles on land and at sea.

Walking on the jetty in uniform brought invitations from ladies, inviting you to come and see their friends, who had never met a real seafarer before, travelling to a place 80 miles inland.

It became a problem not to get involved in the curiosity of the people, all making the most of learning what and how sailors made their life on board of a ship profession.

The Harbour Master was looking for an assistant and was willing to have me there and then, except for the fact that I did not have a Master’s degree, which was a requisite for any shore position and immediately put me in my place. Being the 2^nd Officer on board of the Straat Banka at my young age was envied by many and accepted as normal by us

Friday 15 January 1960 was recognised as a heatwave with temperatures recorded of 97 degrees Fahrenheit, converted to Celsius in the high thirties, with a high humidity making life unpleasant. I had to get a message through to Hobart and I visited the post office, where I had the best service from a lovely lady, willing to help me getting a message across the Bass Strait. The last connection with Melbourne for the week had been closed and would not be available until Monday morning and the Post Office itself would have to close because of the heatwave. With our next port of call being Devonport the only answer was a prepaid telegram to be sent by phone, which had to be organised at that moment because she was closing he post office and spend the rest of the day on the beach. I did not have any money with me, which did not deter the good lady to do the job, stating that her son would come and collect the cost. Within half an hour a young boy on a pushbike appeared at the foot of the gangway with the invoice and the compliments that the telegram had been duly send in accordance to instructions. What a sublime service. For his effort I did take him up to the bridge and in the wheelhouse, he had a story to tell his friends.

A little wander ashore in the afternoon brought us to the nearest pub, where old timers were doing their utmost to get the maximum amount of beer inside their belly before closing time in a dense environment of smoke and the smell of antiseptics, foul language and swearing. Next door was a saloon without service, where you had to get your own drink at the bar.

Then we came at the newly opened Hent’s Hotel with its magnificent garden where half the population of Portland seemed to be enjoying a cool drink in a comfortable style. With all the visitors known to each other it seemed to be a family affair that welcomed us with open arms and involved us in their conversations, which were the stories about their daily life and had us mesmerised for hours. I had to cut it short to prepare for the night watch on deck, but the others stayed and enjoyed a dance, which was organised for us and required having to dress up in the number ten tropical uniform evening attire. Our Captain commented that his young Officers and Engineers mainly concentrated on taking the younger ladies to the centre of the floor, whilst the elderly matrons were left on the sideline, he was not pleased.

The visit to Portland had been an education on its own, showing to me the importance of the immense varieties that life had to offer to people and in return, how the same people had responded to what was offered to them.

After working the midnight shift and all the cargo was on board, the ship was made ready for the crossing across the treacherous Bass Strait and at 06.00 the Harbour Master guided us out to sea. With the promise of another warm day the locals had already made the trip to the beach and now provided a chorus of cheers when the last line was dropped in the water to be winched on board. Being in charge of the afterdeck party on departure, I responded by waving to all those happy faces, I would unfortunately never meet again.

17 January 1960 in Devonport

The crossing from Portland to Devonport showed us the good side of this piece of water separating Tasmania from the mainland Australia; it remained as flat as a mirror all the way with that shiny silky sheen to remind us that the temperatures were reaching 100 degrees Fahrenheit on the land. On the water it was cooler and the steady 16 knots of the ship started the air circulating inside through open portholes and passage doors, our original style of air conditioning.

On the midnight watch I had to honour to perform the landfall, find the leading lights to the entrance of the Mersey River where the Pilot came on board and to guide us in the dawn to our berth. The village was waking up and the few car lights on the road adjacent to the river showed that even on a Sunday, some people had to go to work, although apparently without haste as most cars did stop to watch the Straat Banka go sailing past.

Work started at 08.00 with a lacklustre performance as the boys had done their homework in calculating what tonnage had to be achieved to stretch our stay to two full days. They were to be disappointed because after 18 hours that same day, we departed for Melbourne, leaving some cargo behind in the shed. That cargo was loaded on pellets and came across on board the brand new ferry, the Princess of Tasmania, stowed on “low loaders”, the start of the roll on/roll off service, making big savings on the handling and carriage of cargo. These large trays were serviced by tractors, which remained on their own terminal. Excess empty trailers were stacked and transported that way to wherever required.

19 January 1960 in Melbourne

After the heatwave we experienced a depression rolling in from the west and the temperature dropped to the extent that during my shift at night we were all rugged up like explorers in the Antarctic with fleece lined jackets and boots and gloves. The crossing was a nasty one to remind us what Bass Strait could be like, pitching and rolling with the spray reaching the wheelhouse. Without the use of the radar as standard practice there was little shelter to be found on the wings of the bridge, when you had to scan the whole horizon, to make the landfall to Port Philip and to keep a lookout for other vessels heading towards Melbourne.

With the strong wind the tarpaulins covering no 1 hatch had worked loose and had to be attended to. I immediately woke the boatswain out of his Chinese dreams to call some men on deck and stayed to help and supervise until satisfied the seaworthiness was restored. It was the true sense of one hand for the RIL and the other for your own safety. After all these years at sea, sailing with Chinese seamen I was sure to understand what was being said and what they wished me to get for my birthday. A sincere smile and profound thank you was not what they expected to receive.

In accordance with the proposed schedule we did not have to work around the clock to achieve our target. The additional holidays were created by the annual Wharfie’s Picnic in Adelaide when the port would be at a standstill for 24 hours, just following the weekend when work was at premium rates. Even without trying we did complete the loading early and were forced to leave, arriving in Adelaide on the weekend.

25 January 1960 in Adelaide

The Sunday was a good opportunity to sit down with the Chief Officer AZ and finetune the stowage plan, finding the required additional space to accommodate the overflow of cargo booked on this voyage. On paper it did look good, which was something that had concerned me because I was still acting in a position of, what the Captain called: the Apprentice Chief Officer. The Monday was spent doing chart corrections and updating navigational books.

Personal health for the seafarer was always a hit and miss affair, appointments had to be made far in advance and when made, they were subject to be able to get the time off to fulfil them. Then it was high time to visit the dentist as a niggling pain announced the possibility of some cavities to be filled. A phone call at 09.00 promised a car to at the gangway to take me to the Dentist for a 10.00 appointment. That was the easy part. The initial inspection showed there was quite a lot of work to be done, which required another visit the next day. It was a pure chance that we were still there and could be accommodated. Another taxi was called for and on account of the RIL there was another visit in which six cavities were filled at the expense of the company. However, the scrape and clean I thought to be part of the process had to be paid cash out of my pocket, a weird system. That dental surgery was one of the first to be fitted out with latest high speed drills, which required simultaneous water cooling to prevent the burning of the teeth. The Dentist’s apology that he was still getting to know the new instrument was not what I needed at hat time. He did well.

On the return trip in the hired car we did go past the “Pole Sitters” in the Outer Harbour. There were five men, each sitting on their own platform on tall posts in the river for a competition of endurance to outlast each other, the last man remaining being paid £100. They were sitting there without shelter in all weather conditions that only Adelaide could offer, being subject to the westerly fronts the heatwave of one day would be replaced with a cold front the next. They had started off with the help of some private belongings, protective clothing, books and writing paper, transistor radio’s and even jigsaw puzzles. Each day some items were removed to make he challenge harder. On that note there was a sixth pole on which girls would perform teasing sexy acts, like slowly undressing down to a next to nothing bikini. I did never find out why the competition was held, I am sure it must have been a good cause and creating a lot of attention in the good humour it was meant to be as a performance to attract attention.

The nurses from the Royal Adelaide Hospital called for assistance for males to attend a party and were at the right address, causing a few to fall head over heels in love and remain starry eyed for at least four days, until arrival in Fremantle.

The P&O Strathavn was moored in front of us and some of their passengers came over for a visit, marvelling in the difference of accommodation between the two ships, even the comparison of the menus in the dining room was for them unbelievable. Our Stewardess joined that ship as a passenger to Bombay and was booked in a 3^rd class cabin below the waterline at her own expense. When the ship sailed we organised a send off getting more than half of our crew on the wharf to see her off, she had been a popular lady, always willing to lend a helping hand and was a patient listener to people with problems.

04 February 1960 in Fremantle

The Great Australian Bight behaved as well as could be expected, mainly good weather with a long low swell, making it a pleasant crossing.

The Chinese New Year festivities were observed in the usual manner with fireworks and lion dances performed by the Crew and food and drinks offered by the various department Heads. We all did attend and showed our respect to the tradition that would be returned by their Gods in the form of good fortune in our travels. The party went on for two days because of the weekend when only watch keepers were required for work.

After rounding Cape Leeuwin the swell increased in size and caused the ship to become a bit too lively for some passengers, having overindulged in the Chinese meals during the festivities. Seasickness is not nice and even watching someone helplessly hanging in a chair with his head over a bucket, brought back memories of my own early days, when I first went to sea.

In Fremantle there was hardly ever any urgency, a general laid back attitude to the extent that was even noticed the way people spoke and acted, walked and responded to remarks. Although the cargo was worked in three shifts, around the clock each day, the rate was not good. This was also partly due to the fact that all the easy spaces had been filled and little pockets had been left for this last port in Australia. Eventually the hatches were closed and a large quantity of suitable cargo ended up on the hatchways.

By working extended shifts at night I earned some time off during the day with the intention to go shopping in the local market and superstores with a list provided by my wife and a friend in Singapore. Fresh milk and fresh fruit were the priorities as those commodities were not available in Singapore.

Meat was subject to my finance and seen as a bonus. That was when I missed the connection with the abattoir; I had on the Straat Johore.

The main greengrocer was Walkers, supplying the stores to the ships in the port and that was my first target to establish the prices, of which I had no idea at all. Oranges came in wooden boxes containing 120 to 140 each at a price of £ 2.8.0, of which I ordered two cases and paid in advance, including the delivery to the ship, where they were kept in the domestic refrigeration room. They were joined by peaches, nectarines, a couple of rockmelons, pears, prunes and grapes, a beautiful selection carefully packed in large ventilate carton boxes, all for the princely sum of £ 2.10.0.

The milkman delivered two crates of milk containing 20 bottles each, one crate containing 20 bottles of yoghurt and another small box with 10 bottles of cream. For Farmers Butter I was told to go to Coles, but they had sold out and were prepared to order some in for pick up the following day, when we were sailing and we consequently did miss out. There was always the problem with the payment of the refund on empty bottles returned from the last voyage, as the bottles were not marked and could have been bought in any other port on the Australian coast.

Every time we called at Fremantle I bought round earrings for my wife because that was the only place where I found the kind she preferred and was always wearing to compliment her ever smiling face. The girls behind the counter recognised me when I walked in and knew immediately what I had come for and offered service with a smile and a lot of giggles.

It was six days sailing to Singapore and subject to the weather even the currents in the Banka and Riouw Straits would be in our favour, reducing the total sailing time by four hours.

After a couple of days in port in Singapore, sharing the time off with the Chief Officer AZ, we sailed for India and my wife joined me for the round trip, of which there were no records on paper. The following chapter will be the Australian part of the service.

02 April 1960 in Balikpapan

After having my wife on board on the voyage to Bombay for six weeks and a longer than average stay in Singapore, the departure was made a bit difficult with the realisation that the following two months we would live our lives separately, only bonded by the letters we wrote to each other. Leaving my wife and son standing on the wharf when we sailed was not a happy occasion, which was clearly to see at my facial expression and brought the sympathy of the Chinese crew, standing around me: “Ie-Foh (2^nd Officer), only two months and you back again!” When relieved from the departure duty, I stood there looking at Clifford Pier, together with the Lion’s City fading in the distance.

My watch on the bridge started in the Riouw Straits where it seemed to be peak hour traffic and soon I was back in my other life, that of being a seaman. The Captain left the wheelhouse to go down and socialise with the passengers and I was in my element, being in control of a ship, without any spare time to dwell of what could have been. I really did like being at sea.

The next day there was enough work to do in the chartroom to keep my mind away from home.

On the midnight shift the monotony was broken by an encounter with a German ship en route from East London in South Africa to Yokohama in Japan, without calling at any ports in between. The poor man was so pleased to meet someone, that he did not stop asking questions about the possibilities of pirates on the China Coast, the accuracy of weather forecasts and general information. He was very proficient on the Aldis signal lamp, which was a sure sign of training in the German Navy or dual certificate with wireless operator qualifications. At times he had me struggling to read the dots and dashes, in between holding a good look out for native boats without navigation lights.

The loading of 300 tons of wax took longer than planned and we stayed the extra night in port as the parcel could not be split, some bags had as yet to be received in the shed after the congestion caused by other vessels. The longer we stayed alongside, the more we were subjected to pilferage by workers and so called security people, who were supposed to guard the cargo on board. Complaints to the local police force had no effect. Food was scarce in Borneo, where wages were being paid in kind rather than in money, rice was very valuable in this gigantic rice producing country with so many mouths to feed.

12 April 1960 in Brisbane

The long run to the east gave the opportunity to get the administrative work done; correct the sea charts and update the sailing directions, all routine work for a 2^nd Officer according the Rules and Regulations, the ”Dienst Regelement” or our RIL Bible. The usual doubling up of watch keeping through the Barrier Reef was easy compared to the last voyage as we had a full compliment of Officers to share the burden.

The first day in Australia started with a 24 hour strike of the Wharfies, arguing that weekend overtime should not be compulsory on the grounds that some members had their religious problems with working on their Holy Days.

That first day on the Australian Coast had always been a busy one with the inspections and visits of Immigration, Customs and Quarantine Officials, the receipt of the cargo booking lists and the proposed requests for visits to Doctors and Dentists.

All answers to questions were required ASAP or the day before.

15 April 1960 in Brisbane

Panic stations was an understatement when the Quartermaster saw smoke come out of a ventilator attached to the cargo mast at hatch number IV. He came to me first, knowing that his little knowledge of English had gone up with the smoke, but that I would surely understand what he wanted to tell me. A quick visit into the holds of IV and V showed no evidence of fire, then the passenger accommodation was inspected, but again all was clear. That smoke had to come from somewhere in the ship, so I went to have a look on the official ventilation plan, where this exhaust originated from. It was a big surprise to find that outlet was not shown at all.

The sister ship Straat Makassar was built one year earlier than the Straat Banka and the same plan was issued, with only the ship’s name altered to suit, but the system had been different. The problem was solved by the 4^th Officer CO, who had climbed the mast for a smell of the smoke, still billowing from the vent. He declared it was definitely fishy, in more ways than one; the Cook in the Galley was the culprit, happily standing in a dense blue smoked filled galley with a grin of his face, humming Chinese love songs in answer to our investigations. We never found out why that ventilator at the rear on the starboard side served an area situated in the midships on the portside. The Straat Banka was well known by the Australian Customs as being an active vehicle in the trade of contraband, it could have been that the portside ventilation system had been blocked off for other purposes and a new system had been created by the people involved in hiding the heavy stuff. They were more than cunning and stopped at nothing.

21 April 1960 in Sydney

The Easter Holidays in Sydney were just like any other day on the Straat Banka, without a special menu for breakfast, no Easter eggs or any raisin bread or hot cross buns. Because of the festivities ashore there was no work done on board and consequently who was not wanted for watch keeping had taken the opportunity to visit friends and loved ones, even if you had to find them first, which was not difficult in Australia. My relationship with the Catering Department was never any good to begin with, but when absenteeism of Officers and Engineers was again used as an excuse for their performance, I could not help making my feelings known. That was never a good way to score points in the RIL for very few Captains would stand behind a 2^nd Officer in an argument with a Purser, Chief Steward or Cook.

The ship was berthed at Woolloomooloo alongside the original timber wool sheds within easy walking distance of the centre of town and after the initial burst of activity, it was the best place to be over Easter. The Sydney RIL Agency also made the most of the opportunity to use the ship as a venue for public relation parties. One was the presentation of a golden watch to Mr. Jack Thorpe for 25 years of service. He was one of the very few shore staff, who made it a point to know the people on the ships and made it a priority that crew mail had to go on board on arrival in Sydney.

After Easter the cargo was worked all three shifts to make up the time lost, before the new sailing schedule was even printed. That seemed to be the norm and of some importance for the passengers who had commitments in their journey in the various parts of call.

The labour situation in Australian ports was influenced by a new obstacle, wet weather. Under the latest Agreement with the Union the argument was about the issue of wet weather gear, which had to be readily available, good fitting and clean. That sounded simple, but when the first drops of rain fell, the issue of the gear was already too late, as the men would be getting wet, when going ashore to collect their raincoats, boots, gloves and hats and work could not commence until the complete gang was fitted out... To issue the gear before the start of the shift gave the problem of storage during the shift and the cost of cleaning the gear, even if it had not been used. The end result was that the watch keeping Officers had to rig the rain tents over the hatchways and were depending on the goodwill of the Chinese crew for a helping hand. On the nightshifts, when it was difficult to see the rain coming, the wharfies just walked off the ship and left the hatches uncovered. It was the feeling of responsibility for the wellbeing of the cargo that saw two young Dutch men achieve in next to no time what two gangs of highly paid Wharfies refused to even attempt to perform. We had been trained to think that way and did what had to be done.

It was the time that Dutch ships were banned from Indonesia and the acknowledgment of problems in South Africa, which were blamed on the influence of the Dutch Settlers in that country. In the middle of the night you could hear the sentiment growing down in the hatch, with the hardened workers showing tears in their eyes when blaming the Dutch for the problems caused. When it became personal, I could not take any abuse on my own and asked the one person to voice his opinion in front of the Captain or leave the ship. With that the personal attacks increased and the whole gang eventually walked off and were dismissed by the Stevedores. These situations became more frequent when the attitudes became more aggressive and nearly all Dutch ships became the scapegoats of happenings overseas.

On one particular night the conversation involved the poor people of Indonesia and the history of the Dutch Capitalists, the atmosphere was thick, but not dangerous. One man was the instigator of the rumbles and it was him I confronted down in the hold with a globe of the world. It was a simple little sphere used for decorative purposes, showing the various countries in different colours. I did tell him I was born and bred in Indonesia and all I wanted him to do was to point out where Indonesia was on that ball. The poor man had no idea and I just showed him where it was shown and climbed out of the hold, without making a big deal about it. That man went on to become a prominent WWF Union Delegate and on that night I had made a friend for the rest of my sailing life.

23 April 1960 in Sydney

The nights in Sydney were not just cold, they were freezing cold. On the midnight shift the requirements for dress uniform were disregarded to suit the occasion. Work trousers tucked into lamb’s wool lined leather boots; Dutch fishermen woollen jumpers under heavy jackets and thick leather gloves made it possible to remain warm during the 12.00 to 07.30 shift each day. The constant climbing in and out of the holds to supervise the stowage, made the dress superfluous at times and again badly wanted, when discarded. The RIL ships were keen on the stowage to be as tight as possible and the easy way to stack the cargo close to the coaming and leave the space behind empty could only be prevented by being there when it happened. A solid wall of bags of milk powder could be quickly established and it took the experience of the trade to be at the right place at the right time. The interesting thing was that no offence was taken when it was discovered and with a grunt and a wry smile the cargo would be stowed as planned. It was like playing a game.

25 April 1960 in Melbourne

Upon arrival we were forced to anchor in Hobson’s Bay to wait for a free berth in the Port of Melbourne. Due to the bad storms over the last few weeks when ships had not been worked, there were more than 70 ships alongside the wharves and therefore not sufficient labour to work them. The shortage of labour was estimated to be more than 4000 men. But for the WWF Union claiming the monopoly of all work on the waterfront, it was not possible to employ outside labour, volunteers or even the Army, like I had experienced in other countries. Therefore we just had to wait.

My days were occupied with the correcting of charts and sailing directions, overhauling the gyro compass and creating stowage plans together with the Chief Officer AJZ. The 3^rd Officer was working in the lifeboats and both the 4^th Officers were doing ship’s stores for the Deck Department. There was always enough work to do but rarely time available when the cargo was worked to keep it all up to date. The storms kept coming from the west and each bit of rain caused more delay to the sailing schedule.

During our dinner in the mess room the British ship Ayrshire dropped her anchor not far away and upwind from us and seemed to have a problem with getting the anchor to hold her on site, she just would not come around with her head into the wind and take a safe position in the line of ships. She was getting too close for comfort and without further ado we alerted our engine room and manned the bridge and forecastle to get out of her way if required. The crew came on deck with cork fenders and it turned out to be a good exercise when the crew was not on stand by. The Captain appeared out of nowhere as a good Captain should and took control, when the Ayrshire at long last decided to up anchor and find another spot further down, giving a short blast on the whistle to acknowledge regret for the consternation she had caused. Seafarers have a common understanding of the etiquette to be maintained and when we returned to our dinner we felt good, because the end result could have been a lot different. That night the dinner never stopped as the Captain had instructed the Catering Department to lavish a variety of deserts and fresh fruits on us. Captain AWS could moan and grumble, but also show his gratitude when deserved. It took me a long time to understand Captains, because they were all so different, each with their own priority and most meaning well.

The Signal Station enjoyed the contact with the ships on the Roads and sometimes seemed to forget that we were in the Merchant Navy and not trained signalmen, I regularly had to ask them to slow down the “dots and dashes” for me to translate into normal spoken language.

01 May 1960 in Melbourne

After four days “swinging on the pick” we went alongside a berth and started with four gangs on the discharge of import cargo. With the shortage of labour in the port, the RIL seemed to be able to get priority over competitors. On the Saturday morning no less than seven gangs turned up, but the activity was short lived when the gentlemen decided not to accept the offered overtime on the coming weekend because they needed a rest, which was a blessing for the ship owner as the heavens opened up and the rain did not stop for the next two days. We compared the weather in Melbourne with the winter storms in Europe and were not sure where it could be more unpleasant. Melbourne came out in favour, as changes came and went so frequently, that you could always expect a few dry and sunny days before the next lot of winter returned.

The birthday of the Queen of the Netherlands saw the ship gallantly flying her National colours from the top of her masts, with the signal flags leading from one to the other and down to the bow and stern, fully “dressed” for the occasion. The plan was meant to be a standard pattern without any existing codes. For the sake of doing the right thing I had checked the sequence and found that someone with a sense of humour had made a few alterations to the original, which was not harmful and unless spied upon by the opposition, had to be corrected. The Captain and Chief Officer donned their best uniform and presented themselves to the Dutch Consulate; neither slightly interested in the blah-di-dah proceedings and had rather stayed on board.

After a nothing Easter, we were treated to the biggest and best buffet dinner I had ever seen prepared for our level. We did enjoy the food and free supply of alcoholic drinks and rather than query the whys and wherefores, first we made sure that not a single scrap went to waste.

In the passenger accommodation the RIL Agency was holding a reception for shippers, consignees and other clients and with the cost of the catering carried by others the Purser had produced a little extra on their account for the juniors. Somewhere I was convinced that there had to be another reason for the occasion; it also could have been a way to account for the required number to feed, the allowed expenditure and the profit. Even in those days the Catering Departments were influential in the business relationships of the RIL.

The “stop/start” cargo work continued when labour remained on board long enough to make it worthwhile. The latest stoppages were to support the Victorian Railway workers, living on a wage of £15.0.0 a week and not entitled to any penalty payments for overtime. The Australian Nation Steamship Company was another victim of demonstrations in the city centre, the Head Office was broken into and typewriters and adding machines were thrown through the windows from the 5^th floor, crashing to the pavement of a busy street. Industrial unrest was something we had not experienced on board of the RIL ships, we sailed with the Captain standing next to God and if he said something was black, it was just accepted as such. My training had always followed that system and I had a problem understanding the Australian way. Even now and after having worked for 25 years on the Australian Waterfront, I can not accept the various attitudes that always governed that workforce.

The loading of 400 tons of cartons of Ovaltine with four gangs was expected to take 20 hours, if the rain stayed away. The boxes had to be individually lifted and carried to the furthest point from the hatchway, stacked high up under the deck and secured in a seaworthy stowage. It was not the type of work to break any records for the tons per hour penalty rate.

A number of American warships steamed into Melbourne for R&R and the place was awash with Yankee sailors taking over the city and finding Australian girls waiting to entertain them. Within no time they all seemed to have found a match and were seen happily strolling through the streets in pairs or little groups. A taxi driver explained that the boys would be taken home to meet the parents of the girls and they were very popular because of their proper manners which allowed them to mix in so well. He did not think any other nationality was the same.

10 May 1960 in Melbourne

Hail in Melbourne and snow in the Ranges was the forecast affecting the working of the ship, but RIL Sydney was still maintaining a schedule that could not be followed. They rang the ship to inquire why we were not on our way to the next port. Rather than accepting the question as such, the Chief Officer AJZ explained that the imports had not been discharged and of the 2000 tons exports only 700 tons were on board, whereupon the connection was cut off. Twenty minutes later I was called to the phone to answer the call from RIL Sydney and I politely referred them to AJZ’s words as being a true picture of the situation. It was a clear lack of communication between two major RIL Agencies, the Sydney side was RIL and in Melbourne it was Sandersons. The people sailing the ships on a non-existing schedule seemed to be unimportant, our lives just fell into the groove that was created by happenings outside our control. The shore management lived in a different world.

The closest allies we had in Melbourne were the foremen of the Victorian Stevedores, they were ex sailors and professionals in their own right, who would help to cover hatches when required, share a laugh and a cry and tried to maintain the equilibrium of the forces. It was not surprising to meet them in my later years ashore on the waterfront.

In my cabin I had a pot plant in need of some TLC, it needed fresh soil, which I was getting from behind the cargo shed. Walking down the gangway, armed with a spade and a bunch of newspapers, I was quickly stopped by the Customs Officers about to alarm the Quarantine Department. He turned out to be a great help, because in the cold and windy conditions it was hard to get the soil on the paper. Then he turned out to be an expert and dug deeper to get darker earth of better quality. Meanwhile while this was going on the Chinese Crew painting the hull could not believe that their 2^nd Officer was employing the Customs Officer on Duty by digging for dirt for a pot plant, whilst still keeping a wary eye on the gangway.

12 May 1960 in Devonport

The departure from Melbourne happened with the assistance of a tug sailing past after a stop work meeting and willing to assist to get the ship into the Yarra River, just prior to attending another meeting to have further industrial action.

The weather remained so bad that shipowners were rather pleased not having to pay penalty rates for the coming weekend, when no cargo could be worked in Melbourne anyway.

Friday the 13^th in Devonport resembled the winter days in New York, just miserable, where cargo was worked under huge heavy canvas tents attached over the hatchways from the tops of the derricks to special frames on the cargo shed ashore. Even with a fair layer of snow over the top, all the work continued by the Long Shore Men, who were strong Union people, but where the nationalistic pride had regulated the stoppages into an accepted pattern and the working agreements were worked out accordingly.

The departure on Saturday was maintained as no weekend labour had been booked. Again the cargo still standing in the shed was loaded on ferries across the Bass Strait to be taken on board the RIL vessel following us on the trade.

16 May 1960 in Hobart

The Westerlies had been blowing for some time and created a big swell at sea, even on the east coast in the lee of the land. To remain seated at the desk in the cabin a strong rope was attached to hold the chair in place. Only in the dining room of the older ships the chairs were fitted with steel eyelets from which turnbuckles were secured to the deck, we could have done with the same system on the Straat Banka. When rounding the corner to head up to Storm Bay and the Derwent River, the weather did abate but the seas kept their big swell tossing the ship around like an empty eggshell.

If we thought the situation was bad on the upper decks, on the main deck the working of the ship had broken some outlet pipes of the crew’s toilet system, causing a blockage. The faeces were floating in the passage in six inches of water, which could not get through the scupper holes fast enough and eventually lapped over the thresholds into the crew’s cabins. Because of the wild movements at sea, most of their belongings had been placed on the deck and getting sopping wet. The Sailors owned rubber sea boots, but the Stewards had to wade through the mess on bare feet in the icy cold smelly substance. The Chinese seemed to be doing more talking than trying to catch the solids floating on the surface for disposal over board. I decided try to clear the pipes with a long bamboo cane, which fortunately worked first up and was appreciated by the boys. That action was well and truly repaid in full when I needed their help in the Great Australian Bight.

The apple growing season brought additional shipping into Hobart in a time when Tasmania was the main producer of apples in Australia. Hobart was the place where I met my wife and with her family still living there I had a good reason to spend time with them when possible. The family home on acreage on the shores of the Derwent River was sheltered by huge dark green pine trees, grown from seeds that were most likely illegally imported from Germany in the late thirties. It formed a conspicuous non-Australian green blob on the landscape when sailing up the river, initially planted to obscure the river views, which were not wanted and to create more privacy for the Owner of the house.

23 May 1960 in Adelaide

Another voyage with the weather the domineering factor, but now with the sharp end of the ship pointing towards home in Singapore it became just another obstacle to overcome and easier to accept to get the job done. The sailing schedule was about to be shot to pieces as the forecast did not look good. Slowing the ship down to allow her to take the seas more gently was regarded as good seamanship, but for obvious reasons not put in black and white by the RIL. The critical point was the moment that pursuing a certain speed became too dangerous, but even that was up to the Master’s discretion and few Captains wanted an argument with the Office. Notwithstanding arriving at the weekend we maintained an uncomfortable speed causing vibrations that affected everybody on board. Then there was a break in the weather.

With that sailing through the Backstairs Passage became a cruise in the moonlight and particularly when rounding Cape Jervis close to the shore.

Arriving during a weekend and then starting work with six gangs immediately was not normal in Adelaide and definitely not expected, but the timing was good. In the lull between storms we were able to complete the loading and get out to sea. The consignment of 72 crates containing Holden car bodies for Singapore had made headlines in the local papers and was a good promotion for the RIL.

01 June 1960 in Fremantle

When writing home from Fremantle I vowed never to complain again of the inconveniences of being a seafarer, but just put all the experiences down to a learning curve that allowed me to survive the crossing of the Great Australian Bight in the worst circumstances ever. It was a culmination of the weather, the sea and the seamanship of people involved that saw me being tossed overboard, only to be caught by the ship when she slid down from the top of a 50 feet high wave. The memory is still there after nearly 50 years.

The voyage started as usual in a hurry to make up for lost time and try to adhere to a sailing schedule prepared by people in the Agency in Sydney. We had asked the engine room to maintain certain revolutions that were nearly impossible to live with. It was the start of five days being thrown into a front- loading washing machine. The trouble started when the Carpenter reported water in the lower hold of hatch no 4, which could not be pumped out. The pump worked properly and only produced air, whilst the soundings went up steadily to reach 5 feet. The experts declared an emergency and pressed the panic button, saying that the whole lower hold was flooded and all cargo had to be discharged to find the reason of same. The Agency in Fremantle had been warned to make provisions for the handling of the additional cargo. Meanwhile the 4^th Officer CO experimented with filling the sounding pipe and declaring it to be blocked. He was not wrong when an air pressure hose was put on it and blew the rubbish blocking the pipe into the bilges. All and sundry were pleased that a Junior Officer with a sense of good seamanship had solved the problem his own way.

On the midnight watch the weather conditions changed from just unpleasant to absolutely nasty, it became real storm. My first inspection of the situation on deck confirmed that we were sailing too fast. The seas were battering the ship and preventing the vessel from recuperating from the onslaughts. On the previous watch the revolutions had been lowered, but it was obvious more had to be done. Normally, with the swell from dead ahead the ship would be rising up to the top of the crest only to let the sea pass under her and settle in the water awaiting the next wave. It should have been a simple periodic movement without much additional pressure to get up and over the 50 feet or 15 metre high wall of water lying ahead. When going too fast the ship wanted to race up the wave and basically fall from the top on the other side, which was what was happening and causing havoc on deck. All that was required was sufficient power to keep pressure on the rudder to keep the head up into the sea. Even the possibility of breaking up the ship could not make the Captain reduce speed in fear of losing more time on the sailing schedule set by the Agency. When confronted with the possibility he said that things would be all right. He was the Master, Skipper next to God.

Pitching and rolling out of control the Straat Banka sailed through the night, diving into the sea like a wounded seal and coming up above the water like a puppy dog, only to splash down again and disappear under the surface wondering what to do next. Every half hour the mast lights were switched on and the decks surveyed from above, first and foremost wondering if the bow was still attached to the ship. According to the Beaufort scale the wind was blowing a force 10 or 50 nautical miles an hour, 90 kilometres in the metric scale, the depth of the waves was estimated to be 50 feet or 15 metres, the same height as a 4 storey house. It was not just the spray coming over the ship, but complete seas would dump their loads on the decks on either side of the superstructure with the scuppers having problems to clear the water. With the speed reduced to a mere four knots, the stern light was washed away in the melee of water aft and on the 04.00 inspection round through the vessel I found all the canvas coverings of the ventilator pots on the fore ship had blown off, allowing seawater access to the holds below.

This was the point when the situation was becoming too dangerous and although not really impressed with the choice available, further action had to be taken. Slowing down with just enough speed to keep the head in the wind, the Crew was called out to cover the ventilator pots. The golden rule was to call for volunteers first and work with one hand for the ship and one hand for your own safety. Standing on the forecastle, the body was constantly catapulted in the air only to come down in a free fall on the steel deck, just to be covered by the next sea coming over and washing you in a corner if you had lost the grip on the safety lines. Apart from the ventilator covers, the security wires of the anchors had also became slack and needed to be tightened, the gratings bolted on the deck around the anchor winch and the empty wooden crates, normally holding the hawsers had just been broken up like matchsticks and had been washed overboard. The steel pressure beams holding down the canvas tarpaulins on hatch 1 were buckled and about to break up. The mess was nearly complete. We worked when possible and took shelter in between, slowly achieving the impossible.

Then it happened. A freak wave out of sequence could have caused the sudden rise and fall when not expected and the ship fell in a big hole. Only the Boatswain and I were out in the open, the Crew had taken shelter behind the hatch coaming of No1 hold for a breather.

On the bridge they watched in horror how we on the forecastle disappeared under water. The Sailors sheltering behind the hatch coaming were the first to appear in sight of the mast cargo lights when the ship came up out of the water with the Boatswain and me floating around in the melee, hanging on to each other in the hope to be get caught by some part of the superstructure, which did happen and saved our lives.

Before the whole fore ship suddenly went under we were thrown up in the air and came down in a free fall, both facing the water on the other side of the railing as our early grave. Then the ship decided to go the same way as us and we were thrown back on the deck, immediately being washed down to the side with the water for another meeting with sea. My head and upper body went through the railing when I went under with the ship, but remained there because the Chinese Boatswain was lying on the top of me and riding on my back with his arms holding me tightly. When the ship raised her bow above the sea we slid back against a bollard and then became stuck in the remains of the anchor winch platform, eventually managing to grab hold of something. The Boatswain saved my live.

First up I counted the Crew I had taken forward, who were sitting huddled together like drowned rats, awaiting orders and apologising, some smiling and some quietly crying, all working on their emotions and the thoughts to be still there. The Gods seemed to be with us by allowing us to complete the outstanding work and return aft. Arriving on the bridge and reporting the ship secure and seaworthy, my temper flared again and played part of my feelings when I accused the Captain for putting the ship and the Crew in danger by not slowing down when required. The Chief Officer AJZ calmed me down but later acknowledged the outburst had stopped others being blamed for the lack of advice to the Captain, who had been looking for someone to take the responsibility.

The next day a derrick of hatch 1 had jumped out of its cradle and swung from side to side, demolishing everything in its path. Again the Crew went forward with the 4^th Officer CO, whilst I took the wheel to keep the ship as calm on the seas as possible, which worked like a charm. When the derrick was back in place the bell was rung, alerting the bridge of fire. The Electrician found that the electric cables to the anchor winch had been cut and had started a short circuit which was attended to immediately.

The voyage continued albeit very slowly, only three knots was maintained for a long period... That turn around came after further damage to the ship became evident, all due to excessive stresses on ship components by the movements of the vessel when sailed at high speed in stormy conditions. The gangways had become useless as the platforms had been either damaged or washed away. Parts of the superstructure of the fore ship were found behind the main mast aft and other items missing were deemed to have been washed away. The bulkhead of the chartroom showed cracks, the air pipe of an oil tank had just broken off and the cabin bulkhead of the storekeeper was buckled. All the damage that was done could have been prevented by adhering to a speed governed by the weather.

On my previous experiences there had been far worse weather conditions but no excuse for excessive damage. The Agamemnon of the KNSM lost bottom plates in 1953, when performing a “bronco” dance in a cyclone in the Caribbean whilst nearly stationary and with the Tjitjalengka in a typhoon in 1956 there was far less damage due to good seamanship of the Master, who really took command when required.

Then it became the time for visits to the Dutch Consulate and the producing of the necessary documents to declare all responsibility had been taken and the signatures of witnesses would

be sufficient to prove that there was an act of God involved and as such the Insurance Company would pay for all the damage listed on the form. It was totally hypocritical to the extent of robbery that a “Scheepsverklaring” or “Ship’s Protest” was able to wipe a slate clean when common sense and good seamanship would have prevented the occasion.

In all the declarations offered to the Authorities, Agencies and the RIL Head Office, there was no mention of the heroic work of the Chinese Crew, the superb backing I received from Chief Officer AJZ and the help of the 4th Officer CO for without their efforts I would not be here.

Fremantle was my place to go shopping for the family as fresh fruits and dairy products were not readily available in Singapore. But with the advent of the improved airfreight services the price differences were hardly worth the effort of buying in Fremantle, a case of oranges was £3.-.- in both places and the quality depended on the season and place of origin.

From Fremantle we cruised out of the stormy westerlies to the tropics, staying a night over in Surabaya and arriving home to close another chapter of my life at sea.

21 June in Cochin

After a couple of days in Singapore with only a few opportunities to visit the family, my wife came on board and sailed with us to Malacca, Port Swettenham and Penang, from where she took the plane back home and we continued on our way to India.

It was already late in the afternoon when we were leaving and sailing out of the North Channel to find that the passage was blocked by local fishermen in little boats lying behind their driftnets. Their intention was just to follow the practice of their forefathers to find, follow and catch the fish as a way to make a living. They would drop their nets in the water and mark the spot with a float, which was made up from driftwood, bamboo and empty drums only just barely above the surface and dutifully adorned by a little flag of sorts and a smouldering oil lamp to comply with the Regulations of the Malaysian Authorities. Those contraptions were hardly visible but local knowledge and experience told you they had to be there, somewhere. Then the fishermen would drift back with the current whilst putting out the net, occasionally dropping a float over the side to keep it at the required depth and not sink to the bottom and subsequently hang on to the end before hauling it all in again. It was pure common sense to find the boat attached to the end of the net and pass around the stern. When a large number had concentrated on the same area it became difficult to go around the last in the group as it would throw you far enough off the course towards the shallows they were heading for. The alternative was to proceed across a section of netting hopefully far enough under the surface as to be kept clear of our hull and propeller. That action brought a chorus of screams out of the darkness from crafts without any lights but occupied by very vocal crews, definitely not wishing us a “Bon Voyage”. I was deeply touched by the thoughts of the nets being ripped apart and could not help feeling guilty that I had taken somebody’s livelihood away by my action of sailing across their nets. Looking for an excuse I found that the sea charts were clearly showing that fishing in that particular area was strictly prohibited. When I excitedly pointed this out to Captain AWS, he just smiled as it had never had seemed to be of any importance to him; they should never have been there in the first place.

In the south west monsoon the weather worsened when nearing the Indian coast and the visibility went down to nothing and as usual the radar installation was not working when needed. Standing in the drizzle in the wing of the bridge and listening to sounds you did not want to hear, you learned that other ships had radar that operated when required and kept on going regardless of the conditions and despite the Rules of the Road at Sea. They would overtake and were never seen when sailing in the pea soup conditions that made us lower speed and blow the whistle every two minutes to alert other ships that we were there.

Cochin had taken on the additional work from Colombo where the harbour was still congested as it had been for a long time. It was quite different to work on this part of the coast of India in Kerala, where people seemed to have other values and priorities. Even the food was special, chicken piri piri from here proved the point; it was really in a class of its own. Seafood in Cochin did not have any competition from the other ports albeit it was spicier. The cargo works prevented us from going ashore and experience the hospitality this area was so famous for with colonial style restaurants and guest houses not far from the port of Cochin, which was well known of the large dipping fishing contraptions at the entrance of the river. The huge nets on either side would be lifted when the bigger ships passed and provided a spectacular sight. In the Cochin Hotel the beer was cold and the swimming pool inviting with a relaxed old time atmosphere and service that brought reminders of the Colonial days.

26 June 1960 in Bombay

The south west monsoon was blamed for the congestion in Bombay of more than 30 ships lying at the anchorage. It was in fact a strike of employees of the Port Facilities and associated Unions, not including the waterside workers that stopped the progress of paperwork needed to clear the cargo and get the ships through the port. The vessels already alongside a berth finished their discharging and loading and were to wait for the clearances to leave. We just joined the queue.

Over the desert in Tibet the low pressure system attracted the air from the equator causing a constant south westerly movement of air which then would be aggravated by the action of the climatic changes causing the monsoons, forcing more moist air from the Arabian Sea on to the west coast if India, where it would fall as heavy rain before being pushed up and over the Himalayan Mountains. The damp and miserable conditions did affect the people on board, without a ray of sunshine tempers flared and the whole atmosphere on board went “soggy”. At the top there were arguments and a childish attitude started to take the place of common sense adult relationships. One would convey messages through me to the other only to complain bitterly for his own actions and not to make amends when required. They acted just like little kids.

When taking over the responsibility of the navigation upon arriving at the Bombay Anchorage the Captain relieved the Chief Officer in the customary manner and took Command. Because of the tension between the two there was no small talk and all was done according the rules. The ship was sailing in the marked channel leading to the Pilot vessel which was clearly visible way off to the starboard side in the distance. For whatever reason Captain AWS decided to head straight for the Pilot vessel, ignoring the fact that he was thereby crossing the sandbar and shallows which would have stranded the ship. It was only when the 4^th Officer CO walked into the wheelhouse and casually said: “Captain, we are now out of the channel and heading the wrong way” that the Captain came out from a daydream or wherever he was. Because of the typical laid back attitude of the 4^th Officer, there was no panic in the wheelhouse and the ship was quickly put back into the channel. However, the Pilot vessel went absolutely berserk with the firing of red flares in the air, manning the Aldis signal light with highly trained crew and sending messages in Morse code the Wireless Operator could hardly decipher. There was an eerie silence in the wheelhouse with the Captain regaining control and looking rather sheepishly, the 4^th Officer CO grinning with some self satisfaction, the Chief Officer AWZ standing quietly in the wing smoking another cigarette and the Wireless Operator being further frustrated when the Pilot vessel went over into Semaphore by producing one colourful hoist after the other, not making any sense to a modern merchant sailor. Thus the voyage continued and as an afterthought I received the instruction that all junior Officers had to improve their knowledge of the Morse signalling alphabet. The arrival on the anchorage under the guidance of the Pilot was a subdued affair.

At anchor on the Roads in Bombay waiting for a berth was not too bad on a ship without air conditioning; there was more chance to pick up a little bit of breeze to blow the damp hot air out of the cabins. With the ship hanging on a long chain it moved with the current to settle from one direction to the opposite and back again. The huge ventilators on the top deck next to the funnel were designed to direct the flow of fresh air into and out of the engine room.The turning had to be done manually which never happened, they just remained facing aft.

The electrical ventilation system in the engine room was extremely noisy and did the job of moving the air as well as expected, hence the ventilators had been left alone by the Engineers. When the ship swung and brought the head on to the current and the wind and rain from behind the damp air and drizzle dribbled down the chute, causing a short-circuit in one generator, shutting down the electricity supply on part of the ship.

30 June 1960 in Bombay

Without notice a Harbour Pilot came on board to take us to a berth into the Victoria Dock. That turned out to be perfect timing as we had nearly ran out of diesel oil and the Chief Engineer had spoken to the Captain about shutting down various operations to reserve the last for the move alongside. The Agency had tried to charter a small tanker to deliver the oil to us on the Roads as the Port of Bombay oil distribution crafts had no seaworthy certificates to cover that distance. We replaced a ship that had been slightly smaller than the Straat Banka which made the move more than interesting. The Indian language and temperament usually stayed on the same level and under pressure it was hard for us to follow the otherwise perfect English that was spoken by the highly trained Pilots. The communication between the Pilot and the Tugboat Masters was something different; without the aid of loudhailers a constant stream of Indian flowed back and forth and we could only hope that they all spoke the same dialect. At the stern we had two feet to spare, after I decided to bring in the flagstaff at the poop. The stem was hanging over the vessel in front of us.

03 July 1960 in Bombay

With the move to the wharf the rain did not stop and the cargo work was a stop-and-start affair that was not breaking any records. A visit ashore showed the poor living standards of people in the harbour area from the worst possible side. Whereas there were always people and animals living under little shelters in the open, they had pulled back under existing balconies and porches cramming their meagre belongings in a corner when the roads were awash and the constant downpour had no mercy. It was impossible to get a taxi to come to the ship and we were forced to walk past these poor people dressed in rags and covered with large open ulcers, shivering with the fever that spread disease in the area.

Then we found a taxi standing proudly on a wee bit of dry land. It was one of those old indestructible black and yellow, square built Morris cars that were standard transport in Bombay. As we neared the driver invited us to sit inside whilst he recruited help from nowhere to push start the car in the 2^nd gear, which we found was the only operational gear available. The handbrake was used to slow the vehicle down and a small piece of twine was pulled to activate the horn. Although highly dangerous in our opinion the driver managed to miss various objects and people in the process of getting us to the centre of the town, he had no chance to stop for red traffic lights and obviously guessed the timing of crossing well, otherwise we would not have survived the trip. Getting near the Kashmir Emporium we asked him to stop which he did by pulling the handbrake and gradually slowing down the machine, we were only too pleased to get there.

Around the better known stores in the CBD the police were active removing the people from settling out of the rain in the covered pedestrian malls and shopfronts. This was a different world for different people, which was so typical for India and never changed when I was there. Fur coats and expensive woodwork, ivory, gold and silver ornaments, imports from Europe, Africa and China were displayed in an atmosphere of the higher class castes.

The Chief Officer assumed it would be his last assignment to India before settling in Australia and shopped following his wife’s instructions. I bought a few bits and pieces still in use today. Brass vases and bowls, silent butlers and Eastern Opium Boilers were always in great demand as presents and reasonably priced, nothing was over Rp 20. The Bharat Industries opposite the Red Gate was our next destination where we succeeded in fulfilling his orders. That had me buying more bits and pieces I did not really want and now do appreciate with the feeling that we should have obtained more from these originals to show where we were and how we came to the present. Carving sets, eastern coffee sets and Tibetan colourful adorned potbelly vases were most popular items to bring home. Small tables and carpets were to be delivered to the ship, suitably packed for storage in the locker room.

The return trip was via the Agency which could not get out of getting us back to the ship in a more leisurely way.The shoemaker resoled three pairs of shoes for Rp 30, which was apparently outrageously expensive, the dry-cleaning Agent returned two uniforms, a battledress and casual jacket and three jumpers for the total of Rp 30, which lowered the average of personal expenses for looking a bit more respectable. Wearing white uniform on deck is bad enough under normal conditions but in Bombay it was impossible to stay clean, with the moisture dripping from the gear, the oil leaking from the hydraulic shore cranes and the winch men trying very hard to catch you by lowering the lifting wire on your back as you passed the hatch.

The Captain received a reprimand from the Harbour Master for not following the marked channel which did not go down well. He could only agree with the polite and proper way of being told off, but knowing the sender was Indian and only half his age with a quarter of his experience, wearing even more gold than possibly could be earned at sea, did annoy AWS and gave him another excuse to bitterly complain about the way shipping was heading. His mood would change fast, from pure anger to the soft and mellow, smiling and mumbling elder statesman when dressed in his favourite red shorts and singlet, sitting at his desk with an eyepiece stuck in his blind eye repairing the clockwork of a time piece that had been cleaned only the day before. Life on board of the ship could be tuned by the mood of the Captain.

A break in the weather brought things back to normal, the cargo was discharged and the loading commenced, the Chief Officer AZ started to enjoy life again and basically it was the sign of us heading back to Singapore. Now there was no peace for the wicked, every dry moment was used to get more cargo into the ship and work went on 24 hours a day, with the deck watches rigged in the 6 hours on and 6 hours off routine, with additional work done in the time off.

07 July 1960 in Bombay

The cargo was loaded and the voyage could be continued after the bunkering of fuel at the Ballard Pier where a BI ship occupied the berth we were designated to. That was only a slight delay, actually not even worth mentioning, the next morning we were back at sea.

10 July 1960 in Cochin

Captain AWS changed his mood daily, which system up to now had been hard enough to live with, but the down periods became longer and the depressions deeper. When the bridge was being prepared for sea the radar refused to cooperate and the Wireless Operator could not get it going again by the time we were pulled off the wharf. With that nobody was found to be capable of doing their job and we all copped an unfair scolding. Although past experience had taught us to say little and let it pass, it seemed to just make him more aggressive. Thus we sailed at slow speed into the rain and fog along the 100 fathom line, without the backup of what was after all only supposed to be an aid to the navigation and not a legally required instrument to have on board. It was not a comfortable journey to Cochin, which was found by applying good old fashioned seamanship with the help of the radio direction finder and echo depth sounder.

We did not have to wait long for the Pilot to take us in with the bad news that a national labour strike was on the agenda and we had to work day and night to clear the port before it happened. That was positive thinking and everything went according to plan until we ran out of cargo and were advised that the strike was put off until a later date, by then it was too late to book more cargo as the paperwork in those days was all handwritten and made out in numerous carbon copies. It took hours to sign all the Mate’s Receipts after the loading of each consignment, which left me with an “Indian Coast” signature, fluid for speed and large enough to make the impression clear on all copies.

12 – 23 July in Colombo

There were only three ships at anchor on the Roads of Colombo which was the direct result of the change in trading routes with many companies diverting their vessels to Indian ports to avoid the delays of many weeks due to the congestion and mismanagement of this port. The cargo was subsequently carried on in sailing dhows to the smaller ports down the coast. All that was about to change we were told by a Senior Official and the Port Authority would be a split second operation; if a vessel was not ready to move when scheduled, it would go back to the end of the queue. With that in mind we were all standing by on the bridge at 07.00 to be taken to our berth, only to wait till 16.00 for the promised action without any valid reason offered.

Again the cargo was worked around the clock with the minimum amount of labour and the maximum amount of pilferage. Refrigerated cargo disappeared faster from the reefers than the discharge to the wharf. It was impossible to police as it could stop all the work. The attendance of labour kept the Officers busy as they were fully employed on deck, a situation that prevented little squabbles and the atmosphere was good. But with the regular watches covering 24 hours, the Captain had the problem to find somebody willing to listen to his problems and complaints or just any subject available. The hobby of repairing clocks did not go very far without a backup of a regular supply of items to be repaired. Then the Ship’s Surgeon suggested he had to lose weight and do exercises, which was not acceptable to AWS. The prospect of letters from his Officers to Head Office about transfers and holidays made him think we were all leaving the ship because of him. He then realised that he had a very solid team on board and started to get soft and sweet for a few days and then regretting that action he would double the grumbles to the point nobody wanted to come near him. It must have been very hard for the man when he could not create the balance required to be a Captain, if there was such a thing. Just simple respect was not enough for him because he wanted to be a friend as well, something only a few did manage to achieve.

A visit to the Dutch Consul was arranged to witness the signing of a “Ship’s Protest”, declaring that the cargo loaded in Bombay had been saturated before loading into the lower hold and being cotton was liable to combustion and put the ship at risk. It took some time for the small talk covering the cool climate in the Ceylonese hills and the lack of cool air on the ship because of the lack of air conditioning to come to an end, all due to Captain AWS being deaf and not understanding the conversation he did not want to hear. If it was not about ships or money he just lost the whole conversation and remained in his own world.

During the last voyage there had been elections, which turned out to be a farce and new campaigns had brought new faces into the politics of this beautiful country. An aged tallyman took the time to explain what was happening now that Communism was disappearing and was replaced with Marxism and the subsequent consequences to the leading UMP. He was sitting on a coil of manila hawsers, cross legged and busily chewing betel nuts, which red sap was professionally spurted from between his broken down front teeth through the rails onto the wharf, to emphasise his statements of disagreement. The wife of a previous Prime Minister had gathered sufficient people around her to give the UMP a fright. With the elections to take place on 20 July 1961 it was not possible to predict an outcome. The Army was called in on stand by to suppress any problems and take on the Government, which was not required.

The end result was that Mrs Bandaranaike had 75 seats and the UMP only 30 seats and was sworn in as the very first female Prime Minister of any country in the world. That overwhelming win came despite the rains preventing people from outlying villages to get to the polling booths and the UMP reserving all buses for their own voters, denying transport of the common folks.

Another major event was the “Climate Change”, which had caused extensive flooding not previously experienced. The direct connection between Colombo and Kandi was closed with nearly 2 feet of water flowing in torrid streams across the road. Picturesque little streams had become rivers and people’s houses had been washed away. The dawn and dusk shower patterns had intensified to tropical downpours lasting much longer than before.

At long last the spare part for the radar had arrived from Singapore and the Wireless Operator spent some time to bring it back to life. That was the good news for no reason whatsoever as the PPI was covered with a note from the Captain that the radar was not to be used by the Officers on watch, something so typical for that era with older Masters and their lack of knowledge of electronic gear.

Towards the end of our stay the departure would be revised daily and was ultimately controlled by RIL Hong Kong and a definite departure time was set. Upon hearing that news the loading all of a sudden became serious and Exporters woke up to the fact that it was time to act. Some even came on board and pleaded with the Officers on deck to load their cargo first and even to get a Mate’s Receipt signed prior to the shipment of the goods. Six gangs on board and a multitude ashore could not get everything on board before the deadline. Most of the cargo would come straight off the road transport and it made me wonder what incentive would have been required to get it all done a bit earlier.

Because of many ships bypassing Colombo on the way to the East, the freight opportunities to get cargo to Australia was at a premium and all RIL vessels were fully booked on paper, but rarely achieved that in reality. Upon departure there was approximately 1000 tons of tea and desiccated coconut in bags sitting on the wharf, only to be turned away in anticipation of the arrival of the Straat Johore following us on the INDIAS.

Via Penang to Singapore and continuing to Australia, the Straat Banka would still be my “home” for quite some time.

14 August 1960 in Brisbane

The voyage from Singapore to Brisbane was made under the most idyllic conditions with smooth seas and clear blue skies when the Officers and crew had the opportunity to go back into the routine of a longer sea voyage. The regular watch keeping and the work going with the responsibility of the rank saw a calm coming over the ship; people were trained to do what had to be done.

The full complement of passengers turned out to be a happy lot and decided to make the most of the opportunities on offer. This was the very first time in all my years on the Straat Banka that a “Crossing the Line “ ceremony was conducted and it turned out to be a highlight of my time on the ship. After 60 years I can still remember the smiling and cheeky grins of the few people organising the event together with the members of the CD willing to put the work into the performance. The Chief Officer AJZ was not impressed with all the mess on deck which had to be cleaned up afterwards, Captain AWS was unsure about who was in control of the frivolities but the passengers had created an atmosphere that was never to be repeated on board of that ship.

King Neptune appeared from nowhere with his “well” shaped Princess to hold Court on the deck of hatch 4 where the charges were read and punishment applied in a fashion that in these days would not be tolerated. All was put in print and distributed to the “culprits” as a memento of that affair. As only few would be alive today I dare to publish the names in the document that was created by some very intelligent and funny characters in the days that jokes about racism and personalities could still be appreciated. The saying that things were politically incorrect was not yet in vogue. Here follows an extract

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IT HAPPENED ON YE GOODE SHIPPE “STRAIGHT BUNKERS” IN AUGUST 1960

OYEZ OYEZ OYEZ

Hys Moste Graciouse Majestye Kynge Neptune called on the inhabitants of the Antipodes, Hindustan, the new States of America and the County of Cornwall to witness the misdemeanour and illegal activities on board of this ship, not to be confused with her sister ship “CROOKED FAIRWAYS”. All had to stand to be addressed, apart for Mrs Denzler, who received the compliment that there was nothing wrong with her legs. (They were nice).

All 10 culprits faced the same 5 initial charges:

1. That they wilfully crossed the Line into the realms of Kynge Neptune without permission.

2. Resisting arrest.

3. Arriving at an extremely late hour for breakfast whilst knowing that Brunch is not a meal.

4. Being at the cinema where a movie was shown and not paying for the entertainment.

5. Whining about the melodious winch orchestra when cargo was worked.

Mrs Atkins

6. Ejecting good food issued by the RIL into the ocean during rough weather.

7. Blatantly showing a scar from an operation to male passengers, making the Princess angry.

8. Spending too much attention on Mr Donald Wight and making the Princess jealous.

9. Flirting with the Old Ship’s Surgeon with a view to unclear intentions.

Punishment:

To be shaved by the Court Barber and to make clear the intentions to the Doctor.

Mrs Wynne

6. Allowing your daughter to run loose through the realms of Kynge Neptune without advice.

7. Failing to assist your husband to overcome his fears for things that wriggle, squirm or hop.

8. Eating the same dietary food daily and not taking advantage of the choice offered by RIL.

Punishment:

To be shaved by the Court Barber and to be examined by the Doctor of the Court.

Mrs Hollole

6. Screaming with fright when approached by a bus on land, acting like a fish out of water.

7. Spraining an ankle whilst on Safari, acting like drunken land lubber.

Punishment:

To be shaved by the Court Barber and be tickled to be given something to scream about.

Mrs Marquardt

6. Wearing pirate pants and parading in manacles and fetters, scrounged from the Realm.

7. In a store in Colombo masquerading to be someone else to receive a present.

8. Bribing the ship’s navigator in order to falsify the daily ship’s run for your benefit.

Punishment:

To be shaved by the Court Barber, wear selected manacles and pay 10% to a Seaman Mission.

Mrs Khanna

6. Secretly setting out from India to discover Australia, knowing that it had been done before.

7. As an Alien wearing togas disturbing the mind of passengers playing their games of sports on deck and then imitating the official dress of the Princess.

8. Eating peppermints after meals as an Indian custom, casting aspersions on the digestibility of the ship’s food.

Punishment:

To be shaved by the Court Barber and trained in the use of the correct tablet for indigestion.

Mrs Seymour