Harwich
There came a time when Simon left Caldecott for a year or two, and his place was taken by Mike Clover, who was a retired Royal Navy Lieutenant Commander, and had among other things captained a minesweeper. He was able to arrange for eleven of the boys to spend the summer half term of 1956 with him at Harwich, staying on a minesweeper depot ship named Mull of Galloway.
To a large extent we mucked in with the crew. We drank tea with condensed milk and slept in hammocks, which we slung ourselves. They were quite comfortable. After we had settled in a member of the crew pointed out that I had slung my hammock with my feet slightly higher than my head, with the result that I would wet the bed [ I didn’t].
We were given the use of a motor fishing vessel, in which we sailed one day up the river Orwell to Ipswich and back. I remember that there was an island in the river, around which we sailed to head back downriver.
On another day, we went out to sea, and were all given a turn at steering the vessel. When we reached an abandoned flak tower [was it, I wonder, the one that later became Radio Caroline?] we sailed around it and returned to Harwich. I was very proud to be entrusted with the steering as we sailed round it.
We went rowing in a cutter; a crew of eight, each with one oar. I found the oar very large, heavy and difficult to handle, so I don’t think I contributed much to our progress.
This was also the time that we played cricket against HMS Ganges, a ‘ship’ that was actually a training centre on land. I cannot remember who won [but I suspect that it was not us].
We were taken out one day on a coastal minesweeper and entertained by some gunnery practice. On the way back I began to feel seasick.
The holiday came to an end all too soon, and we returned to Kent on an inshore minesweeper [smaller than the coastal version]. It was described as ‘crossing the Thames estuary’, which was strictly correct, but nevertheless involved a journey of about sixty miles in the open sea. It was exciting, but I again felt seasick [although neither then or since have I actually been sick at sea]. I was advised to sit in a central position near to and facing the stern, with my knees drawn up to my chest, which I did, although I half suspected this might be an old wives’ tale. It was certainly not a complete cure, though it may have helped.
I had assumed that the Mull of Galloway was more or less a fixture at Harwich, but I later heard that it had been sunk at Suez the following year.