JOHN GLERUM’S LIFE AT SEA

Foreword

Earlier this year John Glerum wrote to me after hearing about the “Oud Roest Down Under” website and reading some of the “Tales of the Sea, Ships, Shipping and Personal stories” on the Story Page. The 93-year old enjoyed what he had read and since I was fascinated by what he had written me I asked him if he would like to put his story on the “Oud Roest Down Under” website.

John followed up with more details and asked me to write his story for others to read and enjoy.

This is the story of John Glerum’s life at sea.

John Papenhuyzen

JOHN’S SERVICE RECORD

Alcyone	from 1931
Achiba
Alphacca
& other ships		to	1936
Ovula	04-04-1938	to	29-07-1938
Petronella*	01-08-1938	to	10-05-1940
Ena*	11-05-1940	to	05-12-1940
Marisa*	06-12-1940	to	16-05-1941
Juliana*	06-08-1941	to	24-06-1942
Tibia*	12-08-1942	to	13-08-1943
Ena*	16-08-1943	to	11-10-1943
Cleadora*	12-10-1943	to	19-11-1943
Saroena*	06-06-1944	to	15-12-1944
Saroena*	16-12-1944	to	21-08-1945
Murena	29-09-1945	to	06-12-1945
Erina	17-12-1945	to	21-12-1945
Malvina	13-08-1946	to	20-06-1947

* Postings during WW II

JOHN GLERUM’S LIFE AT SEA

I was born in Holland in 1913. The family name Glerum originates from Norway, my ancestor made his way to Holland in the year 1580 and all Glerums in Holland originate from this particular person.

I went to sea in late 1931, depression time when many ships were laid up in the Waalhaven in Rotterdam.

As apprentice Deck Officer I joined the ALCYONE, a cargo vessel carrying 12 passengers trading on the Holland – South America line and also taking mail on board for Brazil and Argentina. At the time mail could only be sent by ship or zeppelin to Rio.

Ports of Call were Las Palmas for bunkering coal, then Montevideo, Buenos Aires, Rio, Santo, Bahia and Hamburg for cargo. In Rotterdam we berthed at the Lekhaven.

At the time pay was lousy, hours long and food so, so. The shipping company was named van Nievelt Goudriaan; they had 10 vessels, some were used as bulk carriers for coal, ore, and wheat, or heavy lift cargo such as machinery cases and rail cargo.

Accommodation was very basic, no running water in the cabin and hot water you had to get yourself from the engine room. In those days we did not have a wireless operator on board, the third officer had to do this job between his watches.

Later on we became part of the VNS and had to change the colours on our funnel, which proved almost fatal during the civil war in Spain because the Russian ships had the same colours on their funnels as we did. Passing through the Strait of Gibraltar laden with coal for La Spezia in Italy we were challenged at midnight by a Spanish warship and instructed to sail to the African coast, where at daylight we were inspected by the Spanish navy and released after a few hours.

Sailing for VNS we travelled to South Africa, African West coast to Liberia, Accra, Takoradi, to Karachi in Pakistan, Bombay, Goa, Cochin and Madras in India and Colombo and Aden.

To Sydney, Melbourne, Adelaide and Perth in Australia and back through the Suez Canal to Alexandria, Antwerp and Rotterdam.

The next voyage was to Padang, Singapore and Hong Kong, Formosa and back to Rotterdam.

After completion of my Mate’s ticket at the Maritime College I Left Nievelt Goudriaan and joined the Shell company in April 1938. I took out a brand new tanker, the OVULA, to Curacao and via Curacao to Alexandria, Port Said and Pladju. From Pladju to Pulau Radja – South of Singapore – taking oil to Cebu and Iloilo in the Philippines and back to Tarakan, Balikpapan.

On the way to Formosa we encountered a typhoon in the China Sea and another one In Hong Kong.

In Bangkok I got transferred to the PETRONELLA in August 1938 and sailed back to Tarakan. At the beginning of the war in Europe I changed vessels in the Far East and joined the ENA on May 11^th 1940.

On December 6^th 1940 I joined the MARISSA. Whilst I was on board U-boat U-107 commanded by Gunther Hessler torpedoed her off the coast of Sierra Leone on May 17th, 1941 and sank her.

m.v. ALCYONE

This trip to La Spezia took place in 1937 when the Spanish civil war was in full swing. As we were approaching the entrance to the strait of Gibraltar we noticed several Spanish warships patrolling, however they did not challenge us. At 10 o’clock that night when I was on duty, when no lights were visible from any other ships, we suddenly were bathed in the full glare of searchlights of a warship. We had a Dutch flag painted on each side of the ship and we flew a large Dutch flag from the stern. The warship requested us to follow it to the port of Algiers, the name of which was later to be changed to Tangiers.

When we arrived there, the authorities examined our ships manifest and registration papers. It was established to their satisfaction that we were not a Russian vessel and that we were not heading for a Spanish port. The confusion in their minds was caused by the colour bands on our funnel, which were exactly the same as the bands on the Russians vessels.

On the way back we were not challenged, although a destroyer followed us all the way out of the Strait.

Our next trip was to China, after Rotterdam our first port of call was Marseilles, then again through the Suez Canal to Aden, for bunkers and on to Singapore, Saigon, Hong Kong, Shanghai and Vladivostok.

By the time we arrived back in Rotterdam - it was the beginning of 1938 – and since I was not getting anywhere in regard to promotion, I decided to apply to the Shell Company for a position. I was very quickly accepted.

m.v. OVULA

The OVULA was ready to sail on her maiden voyage and we left Rotterdam for Curacao in the West Indies on a bright sunny day in April 1938.

The contrast between this tanker and the cargo vessels I sailed on was enormous. We had a windscreen wiper on the bridge operating on the centrifugal principle, we had an echo sounder, extremely modern accommodation - for instance each officer had a double bed instead of a single bunk. We had hot and cold water in our cabins and comfortable armchairs. Our crew consisted of white officers and Chinese deck and engine room crew whilst the kitchen and servants were also Chinese.

They never became drunk, unlike the crews I sailed with previously and were very obedient. They spoke pigeon English, sufficient to make themselves understood. We sailed in ballast, and our speed was about 12 knots in contrast to the cargo vessels, which did about 10 knots. Even the recording of our speed through the water was situated on the bridge, no floating each time we came to the open sea of the log rope to which was attached a finlike tube, which recorded the mileage done by rotation.

The Dutch island of Curacao was an eye-opener. The architecture was all old-fashioned Dutch; there even was a bridge, which consisted of barges, with a road on top of them. Pulling the whole system sideways opened this bridge. The island itself is basically a Shell concern with a refinery and a very large tank park, crude oil was carried by a special type of tanker from Venezuela to be pumped in these tanks, from which the large seagoing tankers drew their refined cargo to various destinations.

On oil jetties there are pumping stations that can either pump the oil into or out of the ship at a great rate. Most of these jetties in many countries are located a long distance from the centre of the towns.

We sailed from Curacao to Alexandria, again through the Strait of Gibraltar and arrived in Alexandria on a very hot day. We therefore wore our white summer uniform. We discharged our cargo and were instructed to proceed to the island of Pulau Bukom in the Strait of Malacca, opposite Singapore. There are two islands next to each other, the other being Pulau Sambu, these islands are like Curacao, full of tank parks, holding oil.

The company transferred me to the PETRONELLA, a smaller tanker that serviced the Far East. This tanker plied mainly between Tarakan and Balikpapan, loading oil for China, Hong Kong, Formosa and the Philippines.

Customs regulations in these ports were very strict to the point of being ridiculous; for instance all ships carry a spare anchor, and these Custom Officers insisted that we declare the cost of this anchor, just in case we would have sold it to the locals. Our entire cool rooms were sealed off and whenever we needed to withdraw our daily rations a Customs officer had to be present.

When entering the port of Taipei in Taiwan our cameras and radios were confiscated during our stay because the Japanese-China war was in full swing. We were also warned not to stray beyond the town’s boundaries.

Early 1939 we went into dry-dock in Hong Kong and whilst alongside the docks with lots of the rivets taken out for replacement, a typhoon struck Hong Kong with the eye passing direct overhead. As it was a Saturday and because the officers’ accommodation was partially demolished for refurbishing, every one was billeted ashore except the officer on Duty, which happened to be me. It was impossible for anyone to take to the street to rush back on board. Under the circumstances it was up to me to stream out additional mooring lines without having the help of ships winches. With torrential rain pelting down and howling winds I succeeded in my efforts to moor the ship more securely, meantime I could see many craft in the blinding rain making for the typhoon safe anchorage, however several sampans got swamped and were drifting helplessly in the harbour.

The worst time was when after the eye had passed over the wind changed direction and was blowing the ship away from the wharf. Fortunately the lines held.

We called into some interesting ports in the Philippines, such as Cebu, Iloilo, Davao, Zambuanga and Manilla.

The architecture was Spanish and the girls wore a stiff sort of collar with wide shoulders, also there were a lot of horse drawn carriages, giving the place a real Spanish atmosphere.

As the Philippines consist of a lot of islands, there were a lot of interconnecting ferries, which had colourful funnels and superstructures.

Late in 1939, we were sailing off the northeast coast of the Philippines, when the radio announced Britain had declared war on Germany. We immediately took the measures previously given to us; such as turn out the lifeboats, reduce the visibility of our navigation lights which were reduced to the bridge red and green lights only, have our lifejackets handy. The reason for this was that during the last war Germany had a large number of raiders in the Pacific and they captured several island and ships early in the piece.

We immediately flew the flag on the stern. However we never saw any enemy action on our voyages. One particular time, when we had taken onboard the native pilot on our approach to Tarakan, we were nearing the actual port, when suddenly the shore battery opened fire with a shot across our bow. We were under the impression they were just having a firing practise, however another shot came across and we therefore stopped engines to await developments. A launch with ten armed soldiers came alongside and a naval officer came onboard requesting to see the captain. We did regularly load in Tarakan and our ship was well known to the people ashore. It turned out the naval people thought we had been shanghaied by the Germans, because we were flying a pennant upside down. The pilot was given instructions to fly this pennant a certain way and when he came aboard, he should have checked up that it had been hoisted as required. He was the only one with a red face; it showed the shore defence was alert.

In May of 1940 I was transferred to another tanker, the ENA, much larger than the PETRONELLA. We were in Balikpapan, when we heard over the radio, that Holland had surrendered. Immediately the natives grabbed a truck and started to shout their pleasure of Holland’s defeat.

We proceeded to Abadan for loading, however there was no dock available and we had therefore to anchor in the Shatt-al-Arab River, which divides Iran from Iraq. Very strong currents run in this river and we put down both forward anchors to stop the ship swinging, as there was insufficient turning room on the river.

In the morning when we were told to come alongside, we discovered that the anchors had fouled. To entangle the anchors is a very complicated business. One chain had to be disconnected and a wire had to be strung in reverse order around this loose anchor chain to slowly haul it in. The whole operation took an hour and finally we went alongside. We were warned that during the night Iraqis had raided several ships stealing mooring ropes among other things, so we kept a good lookout carrying a heavy stick.

m.v. MARISA

In December 1940 I got a transfer to the MARISA.

The ship had discharged a full cargo of oil from Abadan in Freetown, Sierra Leone and was on its way in ballast to Curacao when at 0036 hours on May 17^th, 1941 the unescorted tanker was hit in the engine room by a torpedo from the U-107.

I was asleep when I was woken up by the sudden stop; I reported to the bridge and found out that a torpedo had hit us and that the engine had stopped.

The order to abandon ship was given and the lifeboats that were already hanging level with the boat deck were manned.

I joined the captain, the chief engineer and 10 of the Chinese crew on starboard side in lifeboat no.1. After we had lowered the boat into the water we let it drift until it was astern of the MARISA, which was still afloat.

Two more lifeboats joined us and the captain decided to await further developments.

The submarine surfaced and fired another torpedo into the MARISA, which remained afloat. Gunfire from the submarine eventually caused the MARISA to sink slowly beneath the surface of the ocean and we saw the submarine disappearing under the water.

At that stage we were about 240 miles away from Freetown and the radio operator had managed to send out a distress call. It was pitch dark and the Chinese crew were vomiting whilst we rigged our mast and sail.

During the night the boats separated; our boat set sail for Freetown. Our position was close to the Equator with a very light breeze blowing during the night and none during the day. We had no cover from the hot sun and water and sea biscuits were rationed; we all had a minimum of clothing on when we hastily left the MARISA.

After many mirages of land ahead 12 days later we actually discovered land ahead of us where we landed our boat aided by the surf. We had no idea whether it was hostile or friendly territory.

We decided to wade ashore and discovered that the bottom was muddy sucking our feet deep into the mud. Meanwhile native men appeared and helped us ashore by carrying us on their shoulders; they took us to a covered place somewhere outside their village and gave us food. No women were to be seen.

At night they used their drums to send a message to the next village where they communicated it further along to Conakry, the Capital of French Guinea. We were picked up a few days later by a truck. Before that we offered our lifeboat to the local chief, who, accompanied by his medicine man, inspected the inside of the boat and found the compass floating on liquid. The medicine man, dressed in feathers and trinkets, danced around to expel the evil spirits. Somehow he opened the compass and drank some of the alcohol and became delirious.

After the truck arrived with the soldiers they took us to an internment camp near the capital. We slept out in the open separated from our Chinese crew.

After a few days there was a change of Camp Commandant who, when he found out we were Dutch, arranged to release us by putting us on a goods train to the inland border. We travelled all day in a boxcar and arrived late afternoon at the Sierra Leone border post; there the local chief communicated with the British navy in Freetown.

The next day they paddled us in a large canoe to a Swiss trader who took us for afternoon tea to an English farmer and the next day took us by launch to Freetown where we were reunited with the rest of our crew, who had been picked up by a British warship.

Freetown was a staging post for vessels to go in convoy to Liverpool and we were allocated a passenger ship, the BOSKOOP of the KNSM. The trip took about 2 ½ weeks and I stayed in my bunk with high fever, caused by malaria. I was lucky enough to be patched up with medicine concocted by an English lady from Freetown who was returning to England on the ship.

In Freetown we were given some tropical clothing and after arriving in England a so-called survivor outfit, limited to one essential piece of clothing because of clothing rationing in the UK, was issued to us.

The day after arrival we travelled by train - doors locked - to London where we were taken to an interrogation camp to ensure we were not spies.

After that we lived in the Strand Palace Hotel until Shell Tankers allocated us to a vessel.

I signed on in August 1941 on the JULIANA that operated on the dangerous East coast of Gt. Britain facing aircraft attacks, torpedo boat threats and floating mines.

I did a stint of one year on her and signed off in June 1942 after which I was posted on the TIBIA, the largest tanker in the Dutch fleet.

m.v. JULIANA

In the event a vessel became disabled or was sunk the last ship in the convoy was the only one allowed to stop and pick up survivors. This caused a great deal of soul-searching when contrary to naval tradition we had to steam on, ignoring survivors.

The shipping channels were swept daily, however, because of strong tides mines, as well as navigational buoys, often drifted adding to the danger problem. In particular during the winter when strong gales and poor visibility made navigation and convoy compactness a near impossibility.

Each time we discharged our cargo at Shell terminals German bombers came over to either lay mines or destroy property at sea as well as on land.

We ran double sea watches and slept in our uniforms to dash out to our stations when the alarm bells rang, which happened very often.

The only safe place was our loading port of Grangemouth, about 45 minutes up the Firth of Forth River. The oil we loaded came overland pumped through a pipeline from Greenock on the West Coast of Scotland.

The JULIANA was a vessel specially built to transport oil on the Lake of Maracaibo in Venezuela with a shallow draft, very manoeuvrable and capable of doing 10 knots. Earlier in the war the ship was brought from Curacao to assist with the transport of oil on the dangerous East Coast of Britain where the larger tankers, because of possible sinking, were barred. JULIANA was one of three identical tankers, two of which were sunk before arriving in the UK.

m.v. TIBIA

I signed on the TIBIA in August 1942. The ship had been torpedoed in June 1941 by U-79 in the North Atlantic and had survived. After she was fully repaired we sailed from the Bristol Channel in convoy via New York to Curacao to load a cargo of aviation spirit to support our Forces in Egypt.

Because of enemy presence in the Atlantic it was decided to go via the Panama Canal, the South Pacific Ocean and around Cape Horn.

With the type of cargo we carried you can understand the anxiety of the Yanks of an explosion in the Canal and they sent a whole score of armed personnel whilst we proceeded through the Canal.

From the Eastern end of the Canal we proceeded via Cape Horn, the Cape of Good Hope, past Madagascar to Suez. After discharging our cargo we went to Abadan to pick up a load for Durban.

We left Durban in ballast on March 3^rd 1943 and joined a convoy back to Abadan. The convoy comprised eleven ships, of which two of the ships were tankers and a British corvette escort.

The weather was fine and the convoy made good progress at 8 knots. Shortly before midnight a torpedo hit the TIBIA on portside near the forward pumproom. The ship immediately listed heavily to port since not only the forward pumproom but also three port side tanks had been destroyed.

The captain gave the order to stop the main engine and to transfer ballast to the starboard side tanks. A minor fire had started in the upper level of the forward pumproom but was extinguished very quickly.

With the engine room and aft pumproom undamaged and intact, the main engine was started and sixteen minutes after the ship had been torpedoed she went full speed ahead back to Durban.

As it turned out the TIBIA was hit by U-160 under the command of Georg Lassen.

m.v. TIBIA. Damage done by U-160.

After temporary repairs were done in Durban we sailed towards the Atlantic to return to Britain for repairs when a repaired steel plate fell off near Capetown. The ship went back to Capetown where I signed off to travel by train to Durban where I signed on the ENA again. Being on the ENA meant I was close to Australia and my Australian penfriend and future wife.

I was very fortunate to have survived the torpedo attacks on the MARISA and the TIBIA and by shear luck a third one that sunk the OSCILLA. In August 1941 Shell in London were going to send me to the OSCILLA as third officer, I protested because my rank was second officer and they sent me to the JULIANA on the dangerous East Coast of Gt. Britain instead. Thank goodness for that!

m.v. SAROENA

In June 1944 I got posted as second officer to the SAROENA and served on her till August 1945. The ship then operated between Madras and Chittagong supplying an American airbase close to the Burmese border used by the Americans to bomb the Japanese forces in Burma. During these voyages we used to hug the coast of India, fortunately we saw no Japanese U-boats, which were all operating south of Ceylon in the Indian Ocean.

I left her to go on leave whilst the ship was in dry-dock just after I had a week respite in Darjeeling in the mountains.

In February 1943 the SAROENA also survived an attack on a voyage from Tripoli to Haifa when a torpedo launched by U-81 hit her. Severe damage was done aft on portside and a fire had started. Burning oil poured out and the captain managed to zigzag out of the inferno and steer towards Beirut where he ran the ship aground in the St. George Bay, engines still running. The fire was extinguished and provisional repairs were done after which the ship departed via the Suez Canal and Colombo to Bombay. Inspection revealed that the damage was greater than first thought and the ship was sent on to Calcutta where she went into dry-dock on July 1943. Because of lack of skilled staff to carry out the necessary repairs it took a long time before she was seaworthy again.

In June 1947 I left the MALVINA and the company to start a new life in Australia.

John Glerum

Sydney, Australia

August 2007.

P.S.

Outstanding decoration for John Glerum

On March 15^th, 2009, surrounded by his children and grandchildren John Glerum was presented with the Mobilisatie-Oorlogskruis (the Dutch equivalent of the Military Service Cross) by the Netherlands Defence Attaché in Canberra.

John received this belated decoration for his outstanding, loyal service to the Allied course under difficult conditions in WW2. He has written about these situations and his survival in the story above.

Congratulations John!

Photo and details received from John’s nephew John Vonck in Heemstede, Holland.

John Papenhuyzen

Sydney

9 April 2009.