Category Archives: World Photos

Japan, Pre-Hornby, writings

Japan-3

Image

Soon after the trip I enrolled in an English class at University. The professor asked us to write a short essay/story on some past experience. 

Have you ever noticed the way sailors walk, with their hard rolling gate? I did but paid no heed to it. I realized, of course, that their sense of balance was more acclimatized to the sea than the land but that’s as deep as my thoughts on the subject went. I had a chance a year ago to fully explore their wonderful sense of balance.

I had signed on to a merchant ship leaving from Vancouver to Japan. The reason for this was not monetary but for pure adventure. Upon leaving the coast of Vancouver Island the ship began to hit some fair-sized waves and, consequently, began to roll. I noticed that the regular seamen, even those who hadn’t finished their liquor supply, seemed to be able to walk straight and narrow whereas I, completely sober, had trouble staying on one side of the ship, let alone the gangway, when it rolled. However, in time, I began to make reasonable progress and soon told myself that at last I had mastered the art of walking on a ship. What a letdown I had in store!

Five hundred miles off the coast of Japan the ship ran head on into a typhoon that buffeted the ship bow on. Sixty to seventy knot winds screamed through the radio and mast wires and caused huge waves to wash across the deck.

I was told that we were going to work up in the forecastle that day and consequently had to run up the full length of a wet, windy, slippery deck with the ship alternately seeming to roll over to 45 degrees from port to starboard. Well it’s obvious that I made it was, beyond a doubt, the most frightening experience of my life. I was forced to run a few feet when the ship seemed level and then grab frantically onto a hatch when the ship heeled over, tending to throw me over the rail and into the mad sea, and then, when she came back, to rush into the wind swept spray, trying hard to keep my balance on the slippery deck. When I reached the bow I was shaking from head to toe in exhaustion and fright.

It was, what you might call ‘a difficult’ walk, but I gained experience from it and after that I had no trouble with the ship’s roll. I learned how to walk on a ship and I will be the first to say “I learned the hard way.”

1962

I felt kind of ‘grownup’ after that trip and the professor recognized it. He told me that it was a pleasure to have someone in his class experienced in life instead of all the educational newbies that dominated. 

Pre-Hornby, Vancouver

Japan-1

1 Comment

This history I began soon after the ship docked in Vancouver and we were set free. I continued it on in 2006 when Ron was slowly getting sicker and sicker. When he died I stopped writing. At that point I will attempt to complete the narrative. You’ll know when that happens.

It was 1961. My friend, Ron, and I had just heard about an exciting trip that two of the older guys in the gang had just returned. It seems that to travel the world cheaply all you had to do was go down to the Norwegian Consulate and apply for a job on one of their ships. In retrospect this approach was both brave and foolish. We were both beginning to experience the frustrations of job searches and

xpected that this direction would be just as unfulfilling.


We did go down to the consulate; sat in the waiting room and low and behold an opportunity was available! The consul told us that a ship was approaching harbour and required two Deck boys (in Norwegian “Decksgutte”) We didn’t know it at the time but this position was at the very bottom of the Totem Pole and luckily we couldn’t see into the future
Instead of conjecture and dreaming we now had a really big decision to make. I was 16 and Ron was 17. We went away and talked about it. Neither of us had told our parents about our plans for obvious reasons. Also, we really hadn’t expected to get work this easily so, perhaps too soon, the chance for a life-changing fork in the road was right at our doorstep. We egged each other on and, not without fear, decided to begin the process of going to sea. We committed by first phoning the consulate and saying yes, we would take the jobs and then the tricky part, getting permission from the parents
Mom’s reaction wasn’t negative. She was justifiably worried about my safety but probably realized she couldn’t stop me if she wanted to. Ron’s folk’s reaction was pretty hairy. His mother didn’t want him to go no way no how. His dad spent the better part of a car ride calling us all the ugly names he could think of. They refused to let Ron to go and implied that they would do their best to stop me. Naturally I was more determined to go now. Rebellion against parental authority was a great spur in those days. So was Ron and he began wearing them down. Eventually they acquiesced. Ron’s dad, Ike, compromised by saying we should go if only to learn how stupid we were.

to be continued…