AN INCIDENT IN CHESAPEAKE BAY

I have told much of this tale before however it is well worth revisiting the story in this age of the fear of terrorism. It is funny; it really is hilarious at times. But then stop and think of the hideous outcome of 9/11 and ask if the Americans were going too far? I will repeat telling the events of December off Norfolk Virginia and you are the judge.

In November 1954 the “Eastern City” sailed from Cardiff for Hampton Roads for Orders. We knew that would mean a full load of coal for a port in Japan. Hampton Roads is the nautical term for the body of water and Norfolk area that surrounds it in the southeastern part of the State of Virginia, USA. It is one of the world’s biggest and best harbours and is used by the US Navy, US Coast Guard, US Air Force, the US Marine Corps, and the US Army. It has many big shipyards, massive coal piers, and hundreds of mile of waterside properties and beaches. It is one of the major centres of the industrial and military might of America.

The previous trip the “Eastern City” had been to Novorossiysk, one of the Soviet Empire’s “Hero Cities” and its main Black Sea port and naval base. The Cold War was at its height and here we were going from a fortress behind the Iron Curtain to one of the bastions of the West. It was bound to generate some reaction.

We had signed on a bunch of scallywags in Cardiff. It was November, and with Christmas in sight, all the good seafarers kind of “disappeared.” Smith’s, the ship owner also had a reputation for trips up to 2 years away and very hard work. So we hove into sight of America with a crew where some had been told “sea or a prison sentence”, some Maltese [with impossible names] who had been shanghaied, and the rest a bunch of hard cases. And we had been to the Soviet Union. The vessel came to anchor in an area designated for quarantine and then it all happened.

Before telling the story it is fitting to consider a key player, the Second Mate, one Phillip Vanner. Phillip, and his brother Fagy [who I sailed with later on the “Fresno City”] were the sons of Captain who died in the Battle for the Atlantic, torpedoed off Iceland. The Company paid for them to be educated in England’s prestigious Naval College, HMS “Worcester”, an old Victorian ship-of-the-line laying in the Thames. Both were terribly posh and English but nice guys for all that. Phillip was left on the bridge to keep anchor watch with an Engineer in the engine room.

As we came to anchor the US authorities boarded us in force; there were Marines, USN, USCG, Immigration and God knows who all bedecked in uniforms and armed to the teeth with side arms, carbines and other weapons. They were serious. All hands were assembled amidships in the saloon following interviews and ‘short arm’ inspection [examination of the crews’ willies]. The sailors were really taking every opportunity to make some remark. The commander of the US boarding party then split up his force into parties of 4 men and detailed them off to search the vessel. One group sent to the forecastle, another to the boiler-room, and another to the poop deck and so on. They were told to remain at the scene if they found anything and blow their whistle. Everyone else would then return amidships and the count would indicate where the problem was located, e.g. if the forecastle group were to be missing then there’s the problem. Perfect. The “Eastern City” was then crawling with US military down hatches, into all the ship’s spaces.

On the bridge the Second Mate kept his anchor watch just checking bearings, a very quiet night. It was approaching 2am or four bells in sailor’s parlance, it was mid-watch. The Second Mate, Phillip, decided it was time for a cup of tea, he looked at his watch, confirmed the hour, took out his Acme Thunderer [whistle] and blew 2 loud blasts. This was the appropriate signal for the stand-by watch keeper to bring a pot of tea to the bridge.

Pandemonium would be a mild way of describing what happened next. Fortunately no guns were discharged but it must have been close. The language was unbelievable and even impressed our Boatswain; he could even swear in Hungarian!

“Who blew the mother********* whistle?” was the general gist of the shouts and bellows from the Americans.

The Second Mate looked down on this chaos from the wing of the navigation bridge in some bemusement. It finally dawned on those milling about that he was the source of the whistle blast. And now, having their attention, he posed this question:

“Any chance of a cup of tea, old boy?”

The response is not printable. Fortunately Captain Marshall was married to an American lady and he finally managed to mollify the US authorities and we went alongside to load a full cargo of anthracite for Japan.

There are two postscripts to this story. The Americans slacked off their vigilance as time passed and the World Trade Centre was the terrible target.  The cargo we loaded was bound for Nagasaki the site of the second Atom Bomb in World War Two. This was a War where the US had dropped its guard and was ultimately forced to use the ultimate weapon. There has to be the correct balance in vigilance.