A Whitby class / Type 12. Anti-Submarine Frigate
Photograph reproduced from The Scarborough Story, 1959 -
1961 Conway Bourke Ltd. Gosport, Hants
After completing the gunnery training at Excellent I, along
with the others from the training class who were joining Scarborough spent a
few weeks in the Royal Naval Barracks at Portsmouth, which was then named HMS
Victory. No not that Victory, I am not that old. That famous ship is in
permanent dry dock within the naval dockyard, (and well worth a visit) the
barracks was a ‘stone frigate’ outside the dockyard and now renamed HMS Nelson.
During those weeks I was able to get long weekend leave, Friday pm to Monday
0700. A local coach company provided coaches for service personnel to most of
the major cities in the country and I could get on the one to Manchester and be
dropped off at Carfax in Oxford and Dad would come and pick me up from there
about 7pm. Only snag was that the return coach got to Oxford at 0330 Monday
morning, not Dad’s favourite time of day.
In the barracks we began to meet others who would become our
shipmates for the next twenty-one months. On the 29th September,1959 the whole
ship’s company assembled for the first time in the RNB drill shed and from
there marched to South Slip Jetty in the dockyard and halted alongside our new
home HMS Scarborough. After the commissioning ceremony we went aboard and got
acquainted with our accommodation and layout of the ship. After all the
dockyard officials and other senior officers and dignitaries had left “Clear
lower deck!” was piped and we all mustered on the forecastle for a welcoming
speech from the captain and to be told what we would be doing in the near
future. The Captain, Captain Josef Bartosik DSC RN, had served with the Polish navy
from 1935 - 1945 and then transferred to the British navy and was now appointed
Captain (F) 5th Frigate Squadron, that was us and HMS Tenby and HMS Torquay,
HMS Salisbury would join us later.
After a few days we sailed for Portland, Dorset, for our
‘shake down’ where we all got used to our routines and got to know our specific
duties and places for work, defence and action stations. Then we started the
‘work up’ exercises, all manner of evolutions in harbour and at sea to bring us
all together into an efficient fighting unit. That achieved we were sent to
Londonderry to take part in a N.A.T.O. exercise ‘Sharpsquall’. Appropriately
named as it started for us with a ferocious gale in the Foyle. Scarborough had
to secure to a buoy for the night. This entailed securing one anchor to the
fo’c’sle deck, parting the anchor cable from it and then passing the chain
forward through the ‘Bullring’, a circular fairlead, right at the bows and down
to the buoy. That was the easy bit, the difficult part on this particular
night, as the wind and water were so rough, was attaching the chain to the ring
on the buoy. Not an easy task at best but one made really hard and dangerous
for the ‘buoy jumper’ in those conditions. I was one of the sea-boat’s crew for
the task and the coxswain had great trouble getting close to the violently
moving buoy without damaging the craft and close enough for the man to jump on
the thing. The job was eventually achieved and by the time the boat was hoisted
back inboard the crew were cold, wet and exhausted. We were sent to the sickbay
and to my surprise and pleasure I was given my first tot of rum, I was under
age at the time but this was for medicinal reasons, the M. O. said so. During
these first weeks aboard we had all been making new friends and I discovered
that two other seamen lived in Oxfordshire not many miles from Murcott. Dusty
owned a car and when we had weekends free we would share the fuel cost and
travel in style in his Ford Eight. This all ended sadly late one Sunday night
on the way back to Pompey (Portsmouth). On the old A34 between Newbury and
Whitchurch, miles from a phone box as per usual in these instances, the engine
blew up putting a con-rod through the side of the crankcase.
Not the best place to breakdown so we started walking and
discussing what sort of big posh car we would like to stop and pick the three
of us up. There was not a lot of traffic at that late hour but eventually a car
stopped, it was a stylish Jaguar, leather seats etc. The driver kindly agreed
to take us, so we all got in the back much relieved at our good fortune. He
dropped us off outside Aggie Western’s Sailors Rest not far from the dockyard
main gate. As I recall conversation in the car had dwindle after our discovery
of some scanty female underwear on the floor of the vehicle. I think perhaps we
were rather enviously speculating what sort of weekend the driver might have
had. The other one in the trio was Roger, he and I became ‘oppos’ and would
have many ‘runs ashore’ together. He was a keen Gilbert and Sullivan opera fan
and introduced me to those delights. Christmas was spent in Portsmouth with
leave to both watches. So half the crew were home for Christmas and the others
for New Year. During this time the dockyard carried out some maintenance. Then
after a few more refresher exercises off Portland and another brief stay in Portsmouth
the squadron sailed for the Far East on March 4th. On the way we did a S.E.A.T.O exercise and had a 48 hours
visit to Gibraltar. This was my very first time on foreign soil. I spent my
evening ashore taking in the sights of the town and I particularly remember the
Flamenco dancers in the bars. Gorgeous girls in flowing dresses, very lively
music to which they danced and sang with passion, while playing castanets. I didn't drink much but went back aboard intoxicated with the beauty of it
all.
From The Scarborough Story, 1959 - 1961
From Gibraltar we accompanied HMS Ark Royal to Malta, doing
various excises with the Mediterranean Fleet on the way.
From The Scarborough Story, 1959 - 1961
After a few days there we sailed east again to Suez and
through the canal stopping next at Aden. My brother Richard was stationed there
with the RAF but due to the civil hostilities ashore ships leave was restricted
and alas we couldn’t get to meet.
From The Scarborough Story, 1959 - 1961
Both from my collection
On from Aden to Colombo and then to Singapore arriving there
on the 4th of April. Where we would stay for two weeks. Here I quote the words
of the ship’s magazine about those weeks
“This gave us time to find the advantages and disadvantages
of Terror canteen, Tiger, Sambawang, Tiger, Johore Bahru, Tiger, Singapore
itself and Tiger. By the end of the period we were prepared to settle for
Tiger.”
HMS Terror was the naval base/dockyard and barracks situated
on the north side of Singapore Island. Close by the dockyard gate was a canteen
and bar, here I sampled my first Tiger beer, a brew I still like to this day.
When it was really hot weather Tiger Tops was a favourite as it was very
refreshing. It was Tiger shandy really. When the bar got really busy there
could be as many as nine barmen working flat out. They worked in threes, one
pulling the pints, two at a time. His mate had what looked like a water-pistol in each hand, they were actually to dispense the draft lemonade and he would
quickly fire a shot in each glass. Payment was made to the third member of the
team while this was going on and you were away with your drinks in no time at
all. Another first for me was Monsoon drains, large concrete open channels to
take the huge amounts of rainwater during the Monsoon period. They could be on average
two feet wide and three feet deep as were the ones around the canteen. I
mention them now because late one evening at the canteen a group of us saw
something amazing. Tables and chairs were set out around the outside of the bar
and the further ones were down a flight of steps and over a monsoon drain. The
path to and from the bar was poorly lit and the steps quite dark. A group of
five came off shore and wanted a last drink, to top off the ones they had
already consumed. They nominated the least inebriated among them to get the
beers. He trundle off to the bar like he was walking the deck of a ship in a
force nine gale. The drinks were served in tapered pint glasses, we saw him
next leaving the bar in much the same fashion as he had approached it, only now
he had the five glasses clutched between his huge hands. No tray for this boy!
On reaching the steps he paused for a moment before starting down, toward the
bottom he lost his balance but quickly recovered by taking several steps to his
right. This put him away from the bridge and on the edge of the drain, we all
held our breath but he quite nonchalantly stepped over it and with succinct
directions from his mates made it back to the table. As it happened said table
was on sloping ground and even then he managed to put the drinks on it without
losing any beer the whole journey. For which he got a big cheer, after taking a
bow he sat down and promptly fell backwards out of his chair. For which he got
an even louder cheer.
Up in the barracks were all the usual offices, parade ground
etc plus a NAAFI shop. There were one or two other shops and a barbers shop
with most of the staff being pretty Asian girls. A crafty ploy, I think, by the
Commander to encourage ‘Jack’ to get his hair cut regularly. Sambawang was a
village close by the dockyard and I first went there with my oppo Roger. He had
spent some of his childhood in Penang, an island 440miles up the northwest
coast of Malaysia so had some knowledge of the area and he introduced me to the
culinary delights of the Orient. Starting with a Chicken Chowmein type dish, at
a street stall in the village. There were promises of a proper curry too once
we got into Singapore city itself and a visit to the delights of Boogis
Street…but that’s another story….
From The Scarborough Story, 1959 - 1961
to be continued
