Chapter Four
Back
to Sea Again
Six months had
passed and the scandal back home in Blackpool had passed. I returned to find
another old friend of mine had moved to live in Blackpool. His parents had
bought a small hotel in Cleveleys and so we joined forces. I worked with him.
He had just passed out of a chefs' training college, so he was the cook, and I
became the waiter. He was very interested in joining the merchant navy. I
suppose my stories of life on the ocean wave enticed him even more. Every time
the hotel was empty we would zoom off to Liverpool on his motorbike. Our
favourite destination was the dockyard areas. We soon got to know all the ins
and outs of the ships and crews.
One day, Rodney
decided to follow a lead to a job as a chef on a liner of the same company that
I had worked for. He got the job and I got a job as a steward on another line
called the Blue Funnel Company. The boat that I went to work on was called
'Theseus' and was a cargo and passenger boat. We carried only ten passengers
and cargo bound for Hong Kong. The trip out was laborious. There were only six
of us on the catering side, ten deckhands and ten officers. The deckhands were
all Scotsmen from Glasgow and their free time was always spent drinking and
fighting amongst themselves. They showed no love at all for us stewards and it
was as if we came from another planet.
Their aggression
towards us of the 'Below Decks' level was that of a silent feud with a fuse
that I felt would burn to the end before we reached our destination. The whole
length of the ship separated our respective cabin areas. The 'Deckies' as they were called lived at the front of the
ship, the officers and passengers in the middle and the catering staff at the
back.
I had to look
after the passengers and serve their food. The other steward Mick had the job
of looking after the officers. Mick and I became exceptionally good friends. He
was just a little smaller than I was and very attractive. He had a very outward
personality and was always the life and soul of the party, but he liked to get
drunk! I was also accustomed to knocking back a few bevvies but Mick could
leave me standing. Every time we reached a port, Mick would get totally legless
and on many occasions I had to carry him back on board.
On arrival in
Hong Kong, our passengers departed the ship and we all had a couple of days
off. All the stewards decided to go ashore together to do the usual thing -
drink and find some girls. We had a few bevvies on board before going ashore
and as we were anchored out in the bay, we had to call a water taxi. We were on
our way across Hong Kong Harbour, singing an old Liverpudlian
song as we went. Coming towards us in the other direction was a large tender
which I immediately recognised as belonging to the same ship that my friend
Rodney had gone to work on. I was hysterical with excitement and shouted to the
other boat.
"Hey Rod are
you there?"
Suddenly I saw
him. He jumped up onto the front of the boat and I did the same on our water
taxi. The boats came closer and closer together and we were both so intoxicated
by the excitement of seeing each other again, that we tried to shake hands as
the boats passed by each other. The bow waves of the two boats met and both the
boats lurched violently as we were leaning overboard. We were both caught off
balance and fell in the drink. Our taxi being the smaller of the two shore
boats did a quick turn and Mick and the others pulled us both out of the water
and into the boat. We were so happy to see each other and more than a little
drunk that we never even thought of the danger that we might have been in. It
never even entered our heads. It was not until the following morning on our
return that we saw the hungry sharks swimming about in the harbour.
Our taxi dropped
us off at a shoreside bar called the 'Blue Peter'.
This bar was a favourite with the local seamen. Mick, Rod and I became the
cabaret of the evening. Mick's favourite trick, after he had had a skinful of ale, was "the dance of the flaming
arsehole". He would roll up a newspaper then take off his trousers; then
lighting the rolled up newspaper, he would stick one end up his bum, jump up
onto the bar and prance around like a total idiot. After that he would
challenge all present to a lighted fart contest.
He could, after a
few drinks, fart longer and louder than any other person I have ever met. I can
still see six guys, legs behind their heads, with matches aflame but Mick won
hands down. He sent a blue flame flying at least two feet. The owners of the
bar became afraid of that barbaric behaviour and ordered us all to leave. Mick
wanted to fight but we got him out just as we saw the police vans arrive, and
ran for it.
We ran into the
back streets of Hong Kong's dockland. We were so rowdy that the locals, about
30 of them, all small Chinese men, started to chase us and throw stones at us.
Mick in his drunken stupor, retaliated by picking one of the pot-plants off the
window ledge and standing defiantly in the middle of the road, he ate the
plant. The Chinese burst out in laughter. They thought it hilarious and the
aggression passed with that laughter.
Sometime later,
in the local brothel, Mick began to mumble. We were all so drunk that we
ignored his strange facial contortions. It was not until the next day that we
realised that Mick was in trouble. He had been put to bed by one of the girls,
as we all had, but Mick had simply gone to sleep, the girl told us. Now in the
morning, he would not speak to any of us. He signalled that he could not even
open his mouth. He was obviously in pain.
I called a taxi
to take us to the local hospital. After Mick was examined, it was decided that
he had eaten an exceptionally acidic type of cactus plant and as a result, all
of his mouth tongue, and throat were burned to the flesh.
He had to be fed
through his nose from bottles. The ship's captain was notified and he made
arrangements for a sufficient supply of the liquid food to be delivered to the
ship. Poor old Mick suffered in silence. It took several weeks for him to heal.
Rod rejoined his vessel and we all departed from Hong Kong on
the same day. It was not until I returned home to Blackpool that I saw Rod
again.
Our vessel was
now heading for Australia. I sent a postcard to my girlfriend in Sydney to let
her know that I was on my way. We arrived in Sydney docks a week later at
mid-day. I was below serving dinner to my new passengers. We felt the bump as
the “Theseus” came alongside. Half my passengers left the table to go on deck
and watch the tying up procedure. The others remained seated at the table.
Suddenly there was
a commotion of whistles and catcalls from above. The deckies
were going crazy. Curiosity got the better of me and so I took a look through
the porthole. Below on the quay wall, I saw five girls clad only in the
flimsiest, scanty see-through clothes. Their breasts were bare beneath the see
through cover. They were parading up and down beside the gangway of the boat.
The First Officer was at the foot of the gangway, obviously embarrassed by the
situation of having to refuse the girls access to the
boat. One of the girls was having what appeared to be a heated discussion with
him. As I watched, I noticed that she was familiar to me. I saw the First
Officer take out his two-way radio and then I heard my name being called over
the ship's tannoy system.
"Steward
Kelly, report immediately to the Bridge". I excused myself to the
passengers, who were by now just finishing their meal, and reported to the
Bridge.
The Captain was
wailing. "What on earth is going on here Kelly" I replied that I had
no idea what he was talking about. He continued that "those females down
there" pointing to the gangway, "have come to see you. One of them
says that she is your fiancée and demands entrance to the boat. Now you'd
better get rid of them and fast." He continued to point out that his wife
was due to join the boat anytime and that he would not allow her to be
confronted with such immoral tarts!
I made my exit
and descended the gangway. Eileen was on top of me like a ton of bricks. She
threw her arms around me, lavishing me with kisses as the other four broke into
a song and dance routine. I looked up at the boat and saw the whole ship's crew
and passengers peering down. The deckies were
screaming obscenities, the Officers and passengers were looking disgusted and
the catering staff were doubled up with laughter.
I felt terribly
proud yet embarrassed. The girls were so beautiful, Eileen being the most
beautiful. Her body felt so warm and welcoming. Suddenly from nowhere, there
was a flashing of lights. I glanced to my side and saw we were the objects of
reportage. We were on film.
Eileen pulled me
into all sorts of glamorous positions as the cameras flashed. Within minutes
the port captain arrived and ordered everybody out of the dock. I went with
them in their cars. It took about ten minutes before we arrived at a nightclub.
Once inside we sat down and over a drink, Eileen told me what was happening.
Apparently her friends and she had opened the nightclub for sailors and she had
decided to use my arrival as a publicity stunt. The girls were hostesses in the
club and so the more sexually revealing they appeared, the better it was for
business.
I spent an hour
or two before returning to the boat to make my apologies to the captain. I
explained to him what I had learned about the incident which he accepted by
warning me that I had better maintain a low profile in future or else!
Our stay in
Sydney was to be for a couple of weeks as we had engine repairs. In the
evenings we would visit Eileen's club, "The Black Cat". I introduced
all the catering staff to the club and we had a great time.
The girls decided
to throw a party for us the day before we left. By now, Mick was back in form.
We all did the usual and got well and truly plastered. As the night drew to an
end, the girls decided to drive us back to the boat. On arrival, the Chief
Steward invited the girls on board for a last drink. We had a few more in
between kissing and groping. Pretty soon we were all naked and enjoyed a group
orgy. Mick got a bit out of hand as usual and stole one of the girls' knickers
and adamantly refused to return them. He stated that he was going to sleep with
them on his face until we returned to Sydney. The girls did not make a fuss
about it and said their farewells. We were due to set sail at daybreak
In the morning
all hell let loose. I was serving breakfast when the Chief said to me, "Go
and have a look at the new flag". I went out on deck to see there
fluttering in the early morning sun flying high above the Bridge, a pair of
pink knickers. The Captain was on the Bridge directing the departure routine. I
heard his voice boom out of the tannoy speaker
system, "Let go fore and aft lines" the engines throbbing into life
as we slowly moved away from the quay wall. All the stewards were well aware of
that unusual flag that Mick had hoisted in his drunkenness.
As we slowly
cruised out of Sydney harbour and under the famous Sydney Harbour Bridge, we
heard the girls screaming their farewells to us from above on top of the
bridge. The Captain raised his eyes to look up at the girls and it was then
that he saw the flag of knickers. He immediately pushed his wife into the
wheelhouse on the Bridge. Once clear of the harbour, he demanded over the tannoy that all the ship's company muster on deck. He was
furious. His face was like an over ripe orange about to burst.
"Okay"
he said, "Who's responsible" as he held forth the knickers. Nobody
replied, for nobody could admit the truth without involving everybody else.
"Okay"
he continued, "this whole ship's crew will be replaced on arrival in the
U.K.". He then took leave of himself.
The deckies felt sure that it must be the stewards that had
caused this situation and the officers just looked perplexed.
Our voyage home
meant that we would all be at sea for Xmas. On Xmas we were having a drinking
session in our own mess, when the deckies crashed in.
They had decided to mop the floor with us. A terrific fight ensued, which
spread itself throughout the ship. Even a couple of the officers were involved
in the turmoil. One of the younger deckies got hit on
the head with a bottle and blood spurted everywhere. Amid the screams of pain,
all involved realised the seriousness of the situation and the fighting
stopped. The injured boy was tended to, as were all the other wounded.
Mick and I decided
then, that we did not want to return to sea and we made a plan to stay ashore
and open a club. On arrival in Liverpool, we were paid off the
"Theseus". There were no happy goodbyes from the rest of the ship's
company, more like a relief at having arrived home alive.
I went to live
with Mick in Liverpool. He lived with his family in Garston, Liverpool. His
father, mother and 15-year old sister lived in an old Victorian type house on
the banks of the river Mersey. I had my own bedroom. Mick's father was much
older than his mother was and I could see that they no longer had anything in
common. He was an Irish navvy, who returned home each evening after a hard days
digging, ready only to fall asleep. Mick's mother was young and alive, always
ready for a party and his sister was interesting as she was just blooming forth
into a very attractive young lady and I had an innocent little flirt
relationship with her.
As time passed
by, Mick and his mother would constantly discuss the restaurant that they
wanted to open. During the day, Mick and I would scour the streets of Liverpool
looking for suitable premises. At weekends the four of us would visit all the
different night-clubs, restaurants etc and it was not
long before our money ran out. Mick decided to go back to sea for a further
six-month trip. He said that he would save all his money and return with enough
cash to open their dream business. I stayed behind to get a shore job. I had
begun to enjoy a coffee club in Liverpool, by the name of the 'Jacaranda'. It
was owned by a couple called Allan & Beryl Williams.
And so began the
next episode of my life.