The name Argentina comes originally from the Latin ‘argentum’ (silver) although, in Spanish, ‘plate’ has the same meaning and the country has Spanish roots going back to the year 1512. Argentina rose as successor state of the Viceroyalty of the Rio de la Plata and the Spanish overseas colony was founded in 1776. It is the eighth largest country in the world and is bordered by Chile, Bolivia, Paraguay, Brazil and Uruguay.

La Plata, the capital of Buenos Aires province, is a port some 100 miles from the entrance to the Rio de la Plata, and this is where we were headed with 16,000 tons of crude oil for the refinery. However, on the voyage through the Mediterranean Sea the ship developed problems which could only be rectified in a dockyard. The nearest dockyard, or perhaps the cheapest, was at Palermo in Sicily.

We spent a very enjoyable few days there with some adventures to remember – although one or two of them are not suitable for these pages!

After loading in Kuwait we proceeded via the Cape of Good Hope, a distance of 8,800 nautical miles, and were rewarded some 26 days later by the Third Officer telling us that we were in the River Plate. We rushed out to see land again but nothing could be seen and, smiling hugely, the officer told us that the river mouth was about 140 miles wide. However, the sea had changed colour from its normal blue to a dirty light brown, evidence of the huge amount of silt brought down from the hinterland.

This was confirmed later, when the ship lurched as she touched and slid along the muddy bottom of the river. Our Captain told us that it would remove all the barnacles and weed from the bottom of the ship!

About ten hours after entering we were berthed alongside the Armour Star meat factory and discharging the cargo through a pipeline that disappeared into the jetty.

Fascinated, we watched as, close by, a long train arrived at the plant, with the horns of the cattle visible through the gaps in the railway trucks. A ramp was lowered into the factory and gauchos shouted and pushed at the far end of the train, forcing the unfortunate beasts to stagger down the ramp to meet their end. It was almost enough to turn us into vegetarians.

As the port could not supply us with fuel for the return voyage, after discharging the cargo we proceeded to Montevideo in Uruguay, on the north side of the river’s entrance. We anchored near to where the Admiral Graf Spee was blown up and scuttled in December 1939, following a huge battle with the British cruisers, Exeter, Ajax and Achilles. The wreck could still be seen with the top hamper showing above water.

We managed to get ashore in Montevideo for a short sightseeing trip before we sailed again for the loading port so it might be said that we saw two ports for the price of one!

by Terry Took © 2016

Terry Took was born in Yorkshire but has lived in Tynemouth for over 50 years. He spent 45 years in the Merchant Navy which included 27 years as North Sea Pilot. He then spent five years as a lecturer at the Marine Department of South Tyneside College.

He is now an Elder Brother in Trinity House.

If you have any comments or would like to contact Terry then please e-mail him at pilotone@pilotone.plus.com.

 

With a cargo of aviation spirit safely loaded at Aden, we headed once more for the Suez Canal for discharge at Beirut and Larnaca. Beirut was only 228 miles from Port Said so within 24 hours of leaving the canal we were approaching the port.

Lebanon was on the verge of a civil war which erupted in 1958, so it was with some trepidation that we berthed with our 12,000 tons of highly volatile cargo. We were advised that it would be ‘unwise’ to go ashore in Beirut but, unlike the Australian ports, we were quite happy to stay on board the ship. Everyone was very nervous, particularly the officials who came on board.

After about 14 hours in port we sailed the short distance to Cyprus, a mere 108 miles from Beirut and where there was also unrest, so within 12 hours we were approaching yet another of the world’s troubled areas, with the majority of the cargo still in the tanks. Only 4,000 tons had been discharged at Beirut but we were supplying the fuel for the British Air Force in Cyprus.

At that time Cyprus was a British Crown Colony but many local people, led by Archbishop Makarios, resented the British being there and were conducting guerrilla warfare against the armed forces. They eventually gained independence in 1960 but our visit was two years or so before that event. Harold Macmillan, the then Prime Minister of Great Britain, made new proposals for peace in Cyprus in 1958, but these were rejected out of hand by Makarios and the troubles continued.

Our ‘berth’ was at an anchorage some three miles from the port of Larnaca where we picked up an underwater pipeline through which to pump the cargo to shore. It was to take two days to discharge the 8,000 tons remaining in the tanks, as we could only use the pumps at slow speed due to the submerged pipeline.

On the first night I was on watch on the main deck, making sure the cargo was going according to plan. It was a warm night so I sat on deck watching the lights of Larnaca twinkling in the distance when I heard the unmistakeable sounds of a boat’s engine throbbing close by in the darkness. I could see no lights but suddenly, close to the gangway, the navigation lights of a small boat appeared.

An army captain appeared on deck to tell us they were making sure that no-one had stuck limpet mines on our hull. This made me very nervous so I kept a very close watch on the surroundings until I was relieved. Reassuringly, the boat, stayed around the ship for the rest of the time we were there.

We were pleased when the time came to sail onwards, this time to Ancona in Italy to take a cargo to the UK. Some fourteen months after sailing from Falmouth, we arrived on the Tyne for dry-docking – the longest trip I ever did.

by Terry Took © 2016

Terry Took was born in Yorkshire but has lived in Tynemouth for over 50 years. He spent 45 years in the Merchant Navy which included 27 years as North Sea Pilot. He then spent five years as a lecturer at the Marine Department of South Tyneside College.

He is now an Elder Brother in Trinity House.

If you have any comments or would like to contact Terry then please e-mail him at pilotone@pilotone.plus.com.

 

Unlike my previous ships, the ‘British Yeoman’ was only a 12,000 tonner and hence looked very small as I walked up the gangway. The ship was in the dry dock at Falmouth for a few days and, I am saddened to say, it was the first time that I had sampled the delights of bars, of which there were plenty in Falmouth. A challenge for all BP personnel was to have one beer in every bar in the main street from the docks upwards. We only made it to the ‘Bunch of Grapes’, about half way up the street, before the barman, who had seen it all before, poured our little party into a taxi to send us back to the ship. I hadn’t realised until that time that jetties could become vertical and difficult to climb!

We had orders to load cargo in Tenerife for the Adriatic port of Falconara and this, to me, was what seafaring was all about: places to go besides the Persian Gulf.

Before sailing, the Captain, being a Yorkshire man, bought a cricket bat and spent hours oiling it. Then he gave us apprentices the job of making cricket balls! This meant finding old metal nuts, covering them in cotton waste, then wrapping the whole thing in rope yarn until it was ball size. Sewed up tight, they were then placed in a bucket of water for a few days to make them hard. The carpenter fashioned the wickets and play commenced on the main deck, the Captain involving himself in every game.

From Falconara we passed through the Suez Canal, which had opened again in 1958 after the short war of 1956. It was different again this time. Where the big guns had been emplaced on the breakwaters were big holes. De Lessop’s statue had been re-erected but the huge Johnnie Walker sign atop one of the buildings in Port Said had one leg missing. A bomb or a shell must have amputated it!

Onwards then to Bombay where we changed our Indian crew and loaded a full cargo of motor spirit for three ports in Australia.

As the refinery at Bombay didn’t have enough fuel for us to get that far, we left and went into Colombo to load bunkers. It was so hot that the cargo had expanded and the pungent aroma of petrol overhung the ship as it squeezed through the seals on the tanks and leaked on to the deck. We had no chance to get ashore as our only task was to continuously hose down the decks in a forlorn effort to cool the cargo.

From Ceylon, as it was then, we sailed via the Great Barrier Reef to Botany Bay, Melbourne and Adelaide to discharge. Then, for the next six months we sailed on the Australian coast, calling occasionally to New Zealand, each time loading in Kwinana, close to Fremantle on the west coast.

After 11 months in total away from home, orders were received to take a cargo to Aden from where, we surmised, we would return to England. Instead, we re-loaded a cargo of aviation spirit for Beirut and Larnaca and dreams of home were put on hold.

by Terry Took © 2016

Terry Took was born in Yorkshire but has lived in Tynemouth for over 50 years. He spent 45 years in the Merchant Navy which included 27 years as North Sea Pilot. He then spent five years as a lecturer at the Marine Department of South Tyneside College.

He is now an Elder Brother in Trinity House.

If you have any comments or would like to contact Terry then please e-mail him at pilotone@pilotone.plus.com.

 

We arrived at Mount Maunganui in New Zealand, which was the port for the city of Tauranga some 30 miles away. Cargo work commenced and we expected to sail the next morning.

As our Captain believed in giving apprentices every opportunity to go ashore in almost every port, we two apprentices took time out to stroll along the waterfront of this picturesque little town, passing the small ferry landing about a quarter of a mile from the ship. We had a cup of coffee overlooking the bay and the cone shaped mount which the port was named after.

The sea was an unbelievable blue, with trees and bright green vegetation covering the mountain – green being a favourite colour after weeks spent at sea. The beach stretched the whole length of the bay and we watched as bikini-clad girls cavorted in the sand and the sea.

Back to the ship we heard that the 3rd Officer had gone into Tauranga and later we were called to the jetty office for a phone call.

‘I’m in town,’ he said, ‘and have been invited to a party tonight. Do the pair of you fancy coming? What is the sailing time?’

‘The sailing board says 0900 tomorrow but the jetty foreman reckons it will be nearer to midday!’ we told him.

Usually the jetty foremen were more correct than our sailing board so we were ‘coerced’ into joining the 3rd Officer. We retraced our footsteps to the ferry landing and soon found ourselves sailing to Tauranga, where he met us with a few girls and some New Zealand ‘lads.’

We partied until we had missed the last ferry back to the port, then slept on the floor of our host’s house with the firm intention of getting the first ferry in the morning. Bleary eyed, we boarded the ferry at 6:30am and were soon on our way towards the ship.

As we got closer we saw that the ship was flying two flags from the halyards above the bridge. One was the ‘B’ flag meaning ‘I am carrying, loading or discharging explosives’, which all tankers flew when in port but the other was the ‘H’ flag, meaning ‘I have a pilot on board’!

Horrified, we watched as one of the bow ropes fell into the water as they were casting off the moorings.

We asked the ferry Captain if he could land us near to the ship and, obligingly, he nudged the ferry’s bow to the shore, almost under the bow of our ship, where we jumped ashore shouting our profuse thanks to the helpful Captain, who waved cheerily and backed away to continue on the voyage with his other passengers.

The crew were just about to haul in the gangway when we ran up it and went to our stations. It would have been an expensive night out if we had had to fly back to Kwinana in Western Australia to rejoin the ship!

by Terry Took © 2016

Terry Took was born in Yorkshire but has lived in Tynemouth for over 50 years. He spent 45 years in the Merchant Navy which included 27 years as North Sea Pilot. He then spent five years as a lecturer at the Marine Department of South Tyneside College.

He is now an Elder Brother in Trinity House.

If you have any comments or would like to contact Terry then please e-mail him at pilotone@pilotone.plus.com.

 

We may get Christmas in port! No work! The cargo was due to be completed on Christmas Eve and the Captain was given the option of staying alongside for Christmas Day. Music to our ears: we could have a nice day in port with no cargo to work and no watches to keep. We could enjoy Christmas.

Together with a Junior Engineer and another Apprentice, we went ashore to sample the delights of Western Australia. The little town of Medina was a short distance from the refinery at Kwinana and was the dormitory town for refinery personnel. A taxi had been called and we waited at the refinery gates. Fascinated, we watched a Kookaburra sitting on a telephone wire above our heads; when it gave its raucous laughing cry, we laughed with it.

Another strange spectacle was a man standing with a bow and blazing arrow beneath a high refinery tower. He lit the arrow and fired it above the tower where it came back to earth and the flames died. What was he trying to achieve? He fired another blazing arrow and a blast of flame shot out from the top of the tower. This tower, some distance from the refinery, was the waste gas pipe where excess gas was burnt off. All refineries had one but we thought it was an ingenious way of lighting it.

Exploring the town took only a little time, so we ended up in a coffee shop to while away the hours until watches on board the ship beckoned. Before we had the chance to use the free telephone to call a taxi, a car pulled up and a female voice said, ‘Are you boys going back to the ship? I’ll take you back!’

On the way she introduced herself as June Grundy and asked if we were to be in port the following day. We were, so she asked if she could come and pick us up to go to the Perth Hospital to assist the nurses singing Christmas carols for the patients.

Our eyes lit up: seamen and nurses, wonderful! Just what we needed, and of course we accepted the invitation.

We two Apprentices joined her for the drive through the bush country up to Perth, where, as the only males, we found ourselves surrounded by nurses who took us round the wards with carol sheets. It was rather strange, singing about snow and ice when the temperature was nudging ninety degrees outside and the sun was shining from a clear blue sky. I don’t know what the patients thought of our efforts but it was quite an experience to be in such beautiful company. After all, we had been at sea for some months!

On our return to the ship, Mrs Grundy invited us to her home for Christmas Day, but we found on boarding that the cargo was going to be finished slightly earlier and the Captain had chosen to sail in the early morning of Christmas Day.

What a disappointment!

by Terry Took © 2016

Terry Took was born in Yorkshire but has lived in Tynemouth for over 50 years. He spent 45 years in the Merchant Navy which included 27 years as North Sea Pilot. He then spent five years as a lecturer at the Marine Department of South Tyneside College.

He is now an Elder Brother in Trinity House and Marine Director.

If you have any comments or would like to contact Terry then please e-mail him at pilotone@pilotone.plus.com.