In the mid seventies I was in a program with the Seafarer's Union to get full seniority. This involved training at the Harry Lundberg School in Piney Point, Maryland (Mike Sacco taught the class) and then working at the hiring hall in Brooklyn, NY. While I was working in New York I availed myself to the Union's library and archives next to the hall. There I found microfiche records of newspaper articles going back to the start of the Sailor's Union of the Pacific. I also attended morning meetings held by Frank Drozak who was President at the time.
At some point I was given a job and my training was over. I flew out to join a Sealand ship in Europe, the Warrior. Big company, great run, 6 month contract since it didn't involve coming back to the States as it was a "feeder" ship. Sealand was rebuilding a few ships for military cargo that would connect Rotterdam and the Persian Gulf through the Mediteranean Sea. We and two other ships were filling in by moving containers from Italy to Rotterdam.
When we arrived in Lisbon we found out the deal. The ships were out of lay up. Old C-2 class freighters, built in the late 40s and early 50s, with all their cargo gear removed, could carry about 250 containers. They made about 8 knots on a good day. The Warrior had been in a bit of trouble during the start of their service in Europe. I joined the ship in Lisbon where they had been in the shipyard. Portugal was trying communism and the workers didn't seem to want to work, the Captain said they would play soccer most of the day instead.
The old ship sailed. It was November. The decision was made to stay away from the northern passage to Rotterdam, across the Bay of Biscay and through the English Channel into the North Sea to the Maas River.. All rough waters for and elderly vessel. Steamships have a life span of about 30 years.. and this one had come out of "moth balls" to fill in on the run. So off we went to the south and into the Mediterranean where we stayed until winter was over. I guess that means the other two old ships had to make the northern leg. We were missing an anchor that had been cut off when the ship was towed into the shipyard without power.
The mid point of the European feeder run I am talking about was Algeciras Spain. Across the bay from Gibraltar. Ocassionally an SL 7 would call there from the States.. We tried to get groceries from them at times. Those ships were/are close to 1000' long and would do 30 kts if you could afford the fuel. We could see them on the horizon with a noticeable rooster tail as they rang up sea speed leaving. We, on the other hand spent a few days drifting along the coast of Algeria and went under tow for Genoa, one end of our service along the west coast of Italy. Naples was the southern end with Livorno (Leghorn) in the middle.. near Pisa.
We were shooed away from the coast of Monaco by their "Coast Guard" which was a yacht with Royal crew members that had guns. "You are disturbing our guests" (at the casinos and resorts.. who were probably ship owners) OK we were a little rusty, but the hull was black anyway.
We tied up to a stone quay in the old port. At this point, the company began to loose favor with the crew.. Most of the officers got off. It was Christmas time anyway, for the unlicensed guys to also get off there would be penalties. Without power we had not heat, no hot water. I took a bath in a bucket of cold water on deck and left the ship for the holiday. The Captain hadn't issued a draw against our wages, so without money (no debit cards in those days kids) I walked the streets looking for a Christmas miracle.
I came to the stree where Colombus was born! It said so on an arched entry to the narrow old street.. Up the street was a police station and when they heard my story they let me sleep there; "hey, maybe you are the next Colombus" At least it was warm. I ate at the seaman's center which was in part of an old castle near the port. Great town. The company should have put us up ashore at that point. More about this later.
When I went back to the ship it was sunny and calm and we actually moved it along the pier by hand! too cheap to hire a tug! bastards. we hooked up handy billy (tackle) to the mooring lines and laid into it as the aft crew slacked their lines and the ship drifted along the pier obediently for about a ship length. Eventually we had power again, the holidays were over, we loaded for Spain and departed. The pilots hated us.
Since the original Captain had gone home, the office sent out a retired Captain and a Port Engineer as Chief to try to make her go enough to continue. They were having loads of fun. We were not impressed. One thing that really bothered me, even though I was just a helmsman, was that the RADAR was disconnected and under a tarp on the wing of the bridge. We sailed for months like this. Being without eyes in any bad visibility has some interesting consequences.
By now most of the officers had gotten replaced with whoever their union could catch. The mate on my watch was from Ohio; having sailed during WW II after becoming a "90 day wonder" through the US Maritime Academy at King's Point. When the war was over he went home until now, kid's needed money for college, back to sea. One night approaching Naples with passing rain showers and no moon the Capt had told him to be on the lookout for the S. tip of Sardinia which should show a light off our port bow. We were making our usual 9 kts and I reported a light to stbd a couple of times, apparently passing along on an opposite course. He continued looking to port for the light house. In the rain the intermittent light that I saw didn't exhibit any characteristics that he was looking for. After a while he got a little nervous and called the Capt, who showed up in his sock feet.. Without saying a word the Old Man went out on the wing of the bridge in the rain and hollered "hard right" almost immediately. When I spun the wheel and began to bring the ship around it became clear that the swell, which had been behind us, had increased. In fact it seemed to pull at us, in the direction we were just headed. Not a good feeling. Looking out the open hatch to port where both the Capt and the Mate stood now I saw fingers of white jump up at regular intervals, fairly close.. a mile or two? Not the horizon anyway, on fact, it was the base of the cliffs of SW Sardinia! We steamed around to a little more than 90 degrees to stbd. and the Capt went below, slamming the wheelhouse door. The Mate was visibly shook up, having almost wrecked the ship on the rocks. After a while we did indeed see the light to port and kept it to port as we turned east again and proceeded to Naploli. I didn't rub it in about the light I had been reporting. Its just a fact that without RADAR mariners have to think a lot harder and never let their guard down. Pessimism is the order of the day if you want to keep all together and be allowed to carry on with your business. No day dreaming, no sky larking or wishful thinking.. The sea doesn't care about those things. It demands "pay attention or I will cost you everything".
