Bill's Memories: Chapter 4 -Collision and Fuzzy wuzzies.

Collision and Fuzzy Wuzzys

Off we went again and we were soon to have another mishap. The Navigator had made an error of judgement though not entirely his fault. He had gone a degree to starboard to pick up a light on a coral island in the Red Sea and was night time. When, ‘crunch,’ we had hit it. The light was out and no wonder he could not pick it up. No one panicked, but when you’re in kip, as I was, I wondered what the hell was going on. We were fast alright. The skipper was as mad as hell. The coral reef was called Perim and had an automatic light that had expired. It struck me then how lucky we were not to have ‘gone up’ in the air with all the ammo on board. The skipper radioed ashore to Port Sudan for assistance, ie. tugs and lighters to unload our cargo, so we had a better chance of being towed off the reef. Meanwhile the forward hatch covers were lifted off to see, if any, the damage to the bow. There was no way we could sink, but without unloading the cargo to lighten it, we had a better chance. You had to keep clear of the officers as each in turn was nagging each other until it would be our turn, so we kept out of the way as much as we could. For two days we were high and dry until the third day there came along two tugs and two lighters. That’s when I saw my first Sudanese, fuzzie woozies as they are known, all with Rastafarian hair and some with a bone through their noses. The tug skippers came aboard and conducted the Sudanese loading the lighters and that took two more days, for when they had completed, they had to tow the lighters ashore and then come back to pull us free.
Meantime a stoker had a ding dong row with an officer and word got to blows. So he got hauled before the Captain for insubordination and was later in a Court Martial ashore. The lad, 19 years, was called Tom Cavanagh who came from Liverpool. He was found guilty and got 32 days detention, in Khartoum, an army gaol.

Meanwhile, the tugs came back to tow us off the reef. With the ship now lighter, the tugs pulled us clear, with the help of our ships engines going full astern. Then we were clear of the reef. We must have looked a real sight with the bow stoved in and having to go stern first into Port Sudan. Little did I know then I was to go on another train journey. We tied up at the dockside and everyone settled down. The stoker was hauled up in front of a Court Martial and 32 days. The Navigator got off with a rollicking only with the warning light being out on the reef and was lucky. They called him Lt. Commander Swan.
Now for another epic train journey. When we were to take the stoker to serve his time, the skipper asked Petty Officer Diggle and Leading Seaman Young to escort him to an army camp at Khartoum, at least two days train ride away and what a journey it turned out to be. We had a revolver each and rations for the trip. Although the stoker gave us no trouble and we had a carriage to ourselves, the rest of the train was packed with ‘wogs.’ On the way there had been a sandstorm in the desert and at one place it had completely covered the track. Where the army of fuzzy-wuzzys on camels came from I’ll never know. The PO. said probably they’d been sent from the station ahead. Soon it was cleared and off we went. The first stop was at Assmara when on came two Redcaps, army police looking for deserters. I thought I recognised one, so I shouted his name. he lived in Laughton prior to be called up. It was Jim Dooley. At first he thought he was hearing things and after I shouted the second time though he hardly knew me. I said “How long is it since you worked down Thurcroft pit?” and then he knew who I was. He whipped off the train and bought us a bottle of what was called beer. It was warm
and tasted like P.I.S.S. But it was wet. We stayed half an hour and then on. We had another days ride to go yet, and was pleased when we finally arrived there. We were met by a Major in Khartoum who asked “What force are you in?” As we were rigged out in our tropical kit, ie. shorts and each wearing a ‘Topee’ helmet he did not know who we were. We gave him the papers and then he asked “Who is the prisoner?” The great twit! He got on the phone and said “Get your wank pits and bring a transport van at once.” We thought he was a right pillock, but did not say so.

We had to wait ten days for the next train back, but the same one that brought us. Life in the army there, except for the ones doing time. We met a bloke from Doncaster who was resting after fighting in the desert and he showed us how to go on. The next thing we knew it was time to go and get the train back. The lads there were OK and we were the Navy in Army camp!! Next morning we were off and were drove down to the station and waved off, minus the stoker who was doing time there. A fortnight away from our ship, the old Pintail, was enough. We finally arrived back at Port Sudan and was back on the ship in no time. Everyone asked us, did we enjoy our holiday? Yuck. It was twenty question time. They made us a pot of tea and it was the best thing I have ever tasted since we had left for Khartoum.

While we had been gone, some engineers had shored the bow below decks and filled the hole with a concrete template and said it would last and would be able to travel ahead instead of going astern as we had to, to come to Port Sudan. Tempers were less strained aboard ship now and we were ready to sail again. The lads aboard were all guessing our next port of call, which would be Bombay. As we arrived in Bombay it was courtesy to line the decks in our best tropical kit, as we passed each navy ship we saluted them in turn by lowering our White Ensign flag and raising it again. I often wondered if they knew we had hit a reef and not rammed a submarine!! I’ll bet some of them thought we had. We towed into dry dock. The Captain plus all the officers went to the Marine club to stay till the repairs were done. They wanted two of the gunners to stay on board to look after the armaments. Guess who? PO. Diggle and myself, of course, and two of our lads went to a rest camp in the hills outside Bombay to Dolalli. White engineers oversaw the rebuilding of the bow and they had plenty of help from the crew of Indians who did the donkeywork. And it was by working night and day they finished it in a couple of weeks and it was a stronger than new when they had done. PO. Diggle and I had some good meals aboard as we had the pick of the fridge and he could cook. I praised him on this and he said he had been cooking for himself for the last two years as his wife had done a bunk. He had never mentioned it before or afterwards. When they had finished the repairs they painted the whole ship and the pong of paint seemed to last forever. When the crew were all back on board the Master at Arms said to PO. Diggle and myself “Go ashore and have a beer or two, seeing you have been aboard all the time, but don’t be away all night as we sail first thing tomorrow.” We went ashore and we had a couple of beers then we went for an Indian meal. I had curried chicken and he had a tandoori. Now I know why they place a big jug of ice water on the table with the meal. Gawd, it was hot!! It made our throats burn, we enjoyed it though and nearly finished all the water. The whole lot only cost five rupees each and we left a few annas as a tip.

© Copyright of content contributed to this Archive rests with the author. Find out how you can use this.