Eddie Caruthers

H.M.S. Veryan Bay Commission of the South Atlantic and the Falkland Islands 1956-57

This is the trip told by Eddie Caruthers, who first joined the Veryan Bay on November 1956. I will not go into the name of the skipper, officers, or most crew members, simply because I have forgotten most of their names, and what's in a name anyway.??
Most of the crew started coming on board about the same time as I did. We were billeted in quarters close to the ship, but there were some who were still at Drake barracks.For the next four months or so, we were to give the ship a well-needed refit. Being engine room branch, and also a leading hand, my job was to work with the dockyard workers in the engine room, boiler room, and also the fitting of a new Paxman Ricardo Diesel engine, that was being housed In an oil fuel tank, that had been made available for it on the Starboard side. Then there were my mess duties along with four other killick stokers, who were to share the engine room, and diesel room duties with me.
Those four months or so, we spent refitting the ship, soon passed by, and all too soon we had a full compliment, but no mascots or pets.
Yes, all the new bits and pieces had been placed in their respective areas, we also had a laundry on board as well, a far cry from sitting in the bathroom with the old dhobi bucket between your legs.
I remember too when we were about to sail, we had delivered to the ship a quantity of beer. This was to be rationed out to us when we arrived at our final destination on a daily basis. Something about an extra overseas allowance. But we never did get around to drinking any of it for some reason, the space it took up in one of the storerooms, was in fact used to carry extra ammunition I believe.

So with a full compliment, and the little lady looking a million dollars, in March of 1956, we were off for a tour of the South Atlantic, and the Falkland Islands. The ship we were replacing was the H.M.S. Protector, a Netlayer, which had been converted to a Ice Patrol Ship, and who was about to complete a one-year tour of the South Atlantic.
Our first stop, was smack in the middle of the Atlantic, at the Azores, We stayed there for two days, giving each watch a run ashore, Myself and one of the stokers on my messdeck, had a great time with one of the local families, who on our return on board, sent over to the ship by our liberty boat, one of the biggest hands of bananas I have ever seen. By the time they were finished, we all looked a bit yellow round the gills.

From this deserted spot in the middle of the Ocean, we headed for our next stop, which would a bit more civilised, with Bermuda shorts, the nightlife the works. Yes it was to be Bermuda, and what a lovely spot it turned out too. On the way there, we had a bit of a problem one night with one of the junior seamen. According to him, kit musters were a complete waste of time. As you know the crew were subject to the occasional one, and it could be a snap one at that. This displeased this lad no end, and he refused to lay his kit out. It so happened he was a young Glasgow lad, and me coming from the same town and being the duty killick, I was picked to try and get him to do it, and if he did, then all would be well. Finally he agreed and said he would get his kit bag and hammock and set it out on the quarterdeck. But what came next I was not prepared for. On entering the quarterdeck, he calmly walked over to the rails on the port side, and threw the lot over, he turned to me and said, if you want a kit muster, then swim for it. I can't quite remember what he got for that. All I could do was snigger in the background.
In the port of Bermuda, we were anchored off some distance, but we had the use of one of the dockyard liberty boats, which by the way, I had the job of driving the thing, and looking after the engine room when I was on watch. We were there for about a week, and I'm sure everyone on board had a welcome mat put out for them each time they stepped ashore. If the rest of the trip was going to be like this, then had some great times ahead. Bermuda was a lovely run ashore, Jim Wheelan the other killick stoker on our messdeck and myself, had a couple of runs ashore to the Buffalo club there, and boy did the members look after us. This was one place everybody said they all enjoyed and from what we had been told re on our return trip, we would be back there.
On leaving there and with the lads on the upper deck in their whites, raising their hats for a fond farewell to their friends ashore, we were off to the land of the rum and coke, and some of the best cricketers in the world, the Caribbean, and Kingston Jamaica in particular.
On arrival at Kingston, we tied up alongside, and before long the natives were on board flogging their wares. Small knickknacks of the local crafts etc. But carefully hidden underneath these little native dolls and garments to wear, were some highly potent bottles of the local brew, namely Rum. The lads soon snatched this up, with the Officer of the day unaware what was happening behind his back. At least the lads were ready willing and able when they got ashore. Once more both watches had a terrific time ashore, I think most of my time ashore, was taken up in some nightclub, with a Dorothy Dandridge look-alike, listening to the Platters giving the Great Pretender big licks.
After two days of shore leave in the land of the top cricketers and dark rum, it was off once more to our next destination Peru, via the Panama Canal. Yes and I must agree with the person who wrote the 54/55 tour of the South Atlantic. That going through the Panama, Canal was a wee bit on the humid side, especially down the engine room with those Reciprocating engines churning away. First stop after the canal was the land of the Incas, to the port of Callao in Lima Peru. A couple of the lads for some reason known only to the Doc. and the medical staff, were not allowed ashore, but did have some great stories told to us by those who did go ashore. We did have the usual trinket sellers come alongside, so we managed to get some souvenirs, of this lovely country and its inhabitants.
It was round about this time in our trip, just like our predecessors, we too crossed the equator, and just like them made a fool of ourselves, but enjoyed every minute of the whole thing.
Next stop was a stopover in Chile, in the lovely City of Antofagasta. Here we stayed for a few days, and being one of the ships company football team, I had a run ashore here, and had terrific time with the local English and Scottish community, who made up most of the opposition team.We were beaten by them, but for some reason we were the winners of the trophy, which went back to the ship; to be placed in some room, where for the next ten months or so, saw many more join it, mostly as the good losers. Each watch had their runs ashore, and as usual the locals couldn't do enough for us. It's always sad to leave these ports, but we had to move on.
Yes, and so we did, to another place in Chile, a place when I first saw it and stepped ashore, didn't ring any bells or anything spectacular. It was called Talcahuano. We had the usual two-day stopover, and I took advantage by getting off nice and early. I was joined on this trip ashore by another killick Stoker, Jonno Johnson. We had nothing planned, but what a day it turned out to be. We started off in this bar having a quiet drink, and this little scruffy bloke kept tugging away at my sleeve, saying in what Spanish I could make out, that he wanted us to go to the fire station. I asked the barman as best I could, what he was on about, and again in some broken Spanish, I was told that we should go with him and have a look see. So having got this amigo new found friend of ours, to get the taxi, and have him pay for it, we were off to see what he was on about. When we arrived at this Fire Station, we were both amazed at the size of it for a start, and after being introduced to the chief of the station, we were then given a tour of what was more like a hotel than a fire station There were in all, five different or separate fire departments in the one building, with each one of them having its own nationality. After seeing all of them and their chiefs, I would have to say the best one of the lot, had to be the German one. But Jonno and I told all fire chiefs that his was the best, just to make them feel good. We had lunch there, and then they insisted that we be their guests for dinner that evening. We were told that they had also invited a few friends along to celebrate our stay in their lovely town of Talcahuano. We agreed to their invitation, and found ourselves sat that evening at a table that had not only all the chiefs of each department, but also the chief of Police, Customs, as a matter of fact the only one missing was the Lord Mayor I think. You can imagine what it was like trying to give a toast to each of these depts. in their own particular language, and stay sober.It was Salute to this one, scole, to that one, Slange i var, to the next, I can't remember the one for the German Chief, but we did get through them all eventually It was a great night, and when the officer of the watch seen us come back to the ship in a police car, you could see the look in his eyes a mile away, he had the cell doors open and ready to for us to occupy. But when the chief of police got out the car and saluted us, and said good night, it was a different story. Again it was another place to remember, and a place that we had to leave, but with very fond memories, that's life.
Leaving all these lovely warm countries behind us it was now off to our destination, and that was the port of Stanley, in the Falkland Islands. Yes its true, the weather did start to change as we neared its shores, so away went the whites the shorts, and out came the long johns and the winter blues, and in my case the fur boots (Which my mother had given me prior to leaving, she must have guessed the weather better than I did.On arrival at Stanley, there were no flag waving crowd's there to meet us, only a couple of the locals to greet one of our stokers who was from that part of the world. Yes we had arrived at what seemed the ends of the earth, or not far from it. Looking ashore from our anchorage point, it didn't look all that inviting, so there was no real rush from the crew to get ashore.Shore leave for myself was to be a bit awkward whilst we were down there. Of the five killicks that left good old Blighty, one was lucky enough to get the job of Engineers writer, and one was picked to do the upper deck stokers job. The three remaining like it or not, had to share the watches, four on, eight off. If we were lucky enough to strike a port where we could tie up alongside with power, then we had liberty the same as the rest of the crew, but that didn't happen at most ports we visited.
The town of Stanley was not all that big, it was an Island where they had sheep, lots of them, and peat. They had a whaling station, but we never got to see it, we did sail around the Islands and went ashore at a couple, and it was at one of the Islands that one of the crew got shot in the eye while out shooting ducks I think it was. That meant he had to be shipped home, which meant a rush to the mainland, and Argentina.But as for anything else, there was not all that much to see. Yes we too had our fair share of lamb and mutton, but provisions were soon topped up when we did go to the mainland. I must say though that the people there in Stanley were really friendly, and made us welcome all the time we were there. I made a lot of good friends and kept in touch with a couple for many years after leaving there.
Not long after arriving at Stanley, the skipper got on the loudspeaker, and gave us a talk on what would be our role whilst in the South Atlantic. Our main objective was to show our presence there, but also to show the flag as the skipper called it, to as many ports as we could in the east coast of the Continent. Little did we know what that meant, and how many people were in fact interested in seeing the Union Jack. For a start, we were the first British ship into Argentina, after Peron was ousted. As a matter of fact we could see quite a few battle scars as we entered many of that countries ports. And what a turn out at every one of them too. There were that many people on the dockside, we had to have the local Gendarme as well as their naval patrol, to keep the people at bay. And every one of them I think, wanted to take a sailor home to Dinner, or in some cases to stay the night. You name it, even the ugliest one of all on board, had the time of his life. One lad, a lad by the name of Mat Briggs, was offered a terrific position at some big shots factory. If, he would marry his daughter and stay there. I don't know why, but he knocked it back.We all loved it there, and I can tell you this, it was very hard indeed, trying to get a sub for us three killicks in the Engine room. A lot of the time it was just the eight hours off, then straight back on watch again. But I must admit, I didn't really know what a B.B.Q. was until I got over there. Can you imagine twenty or so whole sheep being done at the one time around a big fire? They were a bit crafty though some of the locals, they usually planned the B.B.Q. before a soccer match, knowing our lads were a bit partial to the little drop of the red stuff that went with the meat. Thus giving them an advantage on the field. Not that they needed it, they usually had the better team, and we finished up with the losers trophy.

I can remember one port where they even flew in some players from elsewhere to play against us. Lucky for us, that man Maradonna was only a boy at the time. I think because we were a British ship, they thought we had a team full of Busby's babes on board, and had just come from Wembley But we enjoyed it even though it was the loser's trophy all the time.
Another great stopover we had, was in Montevideo, and It was here while we were ashore one night, that John Northcote a stoker on my messdeck and myself, met this lady who turned out to be a well known actress. She told us she had an invite to the ships companies dance that night, and would we do her the pleasure of being her escort for the night. Well we both jumped at the chance, and said we would be honoured but first she said that she had to go back to her place, so she could change. When we eventually got to the dance, you should have seen the faces on the officers, when she was introduced. She forgot to tell us that her invitation had come from the wardroom.
One of the funniest things that happened to me on board ship was when we were having Skippers rounds this particular Saturday. I was the leading hand in charge that morning, and for some reason, we were running behind. This would have been all right on most Saturdays, but on this occasion, it was an Admiral of the Argentine Navy who was coming on board, and doing the rounds with the skipper. We had just about got everything done in time, when he walked into the messdeck. The place as usual was spotless, except for one thing, we forgot about the newspapers on the deck. The Skipper gave me a right good staring at, but it was what the Admiral said that astounded everyone. He said he thought it was a great Idea spreading newspapers on the deck; obviously they didn't do that on his ships when they had rounds. Good job he never saw the lads with Brasso doing the knives and forks etc.

Most of the ports we called at were Naval, ports or had naval ships anchored. there. From Punta Arenas in the south, taking in Rio Gallegos, SanJulian, BahiaBlanca, Mar Del Plata, Rosario, and then on to Montevideo in Uruguay, where we met our lady friend, the actress.
This was to be our routine, for the next few months, calling into the ports in most of the countries on the east coast. Each stop we had, seemed to be better than the last, the people ashore couldn't do enough for you, and with the small ship's company that we had, there were often times when there simply wasn't enough of us to go around with the invites we were getting.What I did like about going ashore there was the restaurants, and the food they served. I had until then never seen steaks as big as that, not unless I was at the movies watching somebody like John Wayne or that being served one. Boy were they great. My favourite meal was Beefa steak, pappas frittas, and dos weywows. ( that was two eggs) Well that's what I used to say, and I was never knocked back. On our return to Stanley, again we were always made welcome, every Saturday was dance night, and if you didn't like country and western, well you had to stand outside and look at the stars. If I can remember rightly, these dance nights were dry occasions, so if you wanted a wee drink on the side after the pub threw you out, then it was in the Burberry with a carry out, to last you the rest of the night.
As I said, I met some nice people when I was there, but there was one sad time for me when a little Scots friend of mine, who was a deckhand on the local cargo ship, was killed in a dreadful accident. They were unloading supplies at one of the Islands, and while he was using the winch, the cable snapped, it came back and just about cut him in two. Although I had only known him a few months, it was very hard to take when I heard about him dying.
When the final day came to say farewell to our friends there, it was a sad day all round, knowing you would never see them again, it wasn't easy to say goodbye. And our departure wasn't all that great either, it so happened that the weather took a turn for the worse, and in the wee hours of the morning, there we were in our warmest under jocks and oilskins, hanging on to ropes, with somebody screaming at the top of their voice, up motor boat. But it was good to once more get away from that cold weather and see the sunshine again.
So here we were, on our way once more heading up the coast, for what we thought would be our final ports of call, before heading back to Bermuda. But we were to learn differently once we were at sea. It seems the trouble that was brewing in the Suez canal round about that time, wasn't getting any better, so it was decided that this mighty warship of ours was needed more over that side of the ocean, and that's where we were told we were going. And the place that was picked for us was the peaceful port of Simonstown, just outside Capetown.We began our final trip up the coast, again calling in at, Rosario, where I experienced the size of a tide like no other I have ever witnessed. It was here we went ashore on a gangplank from the quarterdeck, and returned that night, to find it had been placed across to the bridge. I remember it well, because I had a bottle?, in my Burberry, and that plank did swing a bit as I crossed it.
Mar Del Plata, was our next stop, from there we went to Santos, where we had a great run ashore. It was a good bus run from Santos to the capital Sao Paulo, there were many of us who done the trip, which took us up some mountain on a duel carriageway, which was just spectacular to be on, if just for the scenery going up there alone.

Santos I will always remember because of the nightclub we stopped at that night, on our way back to the ship. It was a brilliant club, with many Latin entertainers, but it was the main star that caught all our eyes. She was a dead wringer for one of tinsel towns most famous glamour girls, and that was Jane Russell of the movie The Outlaw, everything well proportioned if you know what I mean. She was dancing round that floor, flirting with all the lads off the ship, and when she finished her act, she came straight up to me and gave me such a kiss. The lads just went bonkers when they seen this, but not as much as I did when on departing, she went behind the curtains to say bwonus nochus or good night, and off came this wig. It was a bloke all the time and none of us had a clue it was a she/he, who was prancing all over the place. You can imagine what I had to put up with, especially from the lads on my messdeck when I got back on board.
Our last port of call was to the city of Recife in Brazil. It was a great run ashore, but the only port where we had to go ashore, and come back on board in threes. The reason for this was because of the German influence ashore there, and the skipper thought in doing this we would be much safer that way. For some reason, I got parted from my two companions, but did get back to the ship safe and sound, and even before my time had expired. On the following morning at Jimmy's report, my punishment for that little episode, I was given fourteen days stoppage of leave and pay. Just about the time it would take us to cross the Atlantic to Simonstown.
For moving across the ocean to defend our queen and country, it would be a loss to just about all of us on board, upper and lower deck. For we were about to lose our overseas allowance, they said it had something to do with us moving back into a commonwealth country. To some it may not have seemed a lot at the time, but I was going home to get married, and every penny counted.
On arrival it looked just like any other dockyard, well so it seemed at that time. We were now in the land of the long haired cats and Elephants, and a table on top of a mountain too.I still had a day of my punishment to go, so it meant an extra watch for me, not that I was worried, one of the other killicks could go ashore. Anyway my first impression ashore didn't impress me all that much .I was no sooner ashore than I saw this old black fella being belted with a baton by one of the local constabulary. This was my first taste of how things were to be for the black folks down there. It came under the rule , Slegs Blanks only. Something that took a lot of getting used to, seeing as we had just come from a country where colour was no hindrance, and where we mixed with all races. Still that was their way of life, and we were not about to change it.
One thing we did change when we were there was the Naffi, or the wet canteen. It was decided when we were there, that the South African Navy was to take over control of most of the dockyard, and this included the Canteen. Boy did we have a great time getting rid of all the stock before they did take over. Can you imagine how many tickets we bought in dozens of raffles for six bottles of champers, at tuppence a ticket or some silly sum? Yes the lads made short work of that stock they had there.
We were there for a while by the looks of what was happening in the Suez, but we never did get called up there to defend it. Or any other place come to think of it. We did get to visit Port Elizabeth, and East London, two good runs ashore, but only because of the English community there that invited us ashore. From there we had a quick trip up the east coast to a place called Inhambane in Mozambique. Here we were treated to a display of tribal dancing by what looked like big tall Zulu warriors. Unusual to say the least, but I was happy to get back on the bus, and head back to town for a pint.As we would be in Simonstown for a while, the skipper said that each watch could have a five-day leave pass. This we could spend in Capetown, and we were told that there would be plenty of room at the Naffi in town. So after scraping together a selection of civvies, which we were allowed to go ashore in, we were off to town for our first real break.Yes we were off to spend what money we may have saved up, and an extra bob or two we got for leave pay.
There was a dance organised for the crew, and it was here I met a lovely lass who just happened to be the sister of a very famous South African boxer at that time. His name was Eddie Thomas, and believe it or not, when I met their mother for the first time, without knowing who I was or having been told. Asked me if I was related to Jimmy Caruthers the Australian Boxer. Not realising also that in the not too distant future I would emigrate to the land of Oz.
The coloured people celebrated Christmas and New Year, in a big way; in the Cape, they had street parades with all sorts of bands and dancers. It was a smaller version of the Mardi Gras they have in Rio. We had a great spot on one of the hotel balconies, so we seen the whole thing, while as we Scotsmen say. We brought the New Year in. That leave break seemed to do wonders for the moral of the crew. Just what the doctor ordered you might say.
After a couple of more trips around the cape etc. its was back to the dockyard, for a cleanup before our lengthy final voyage back to the UK and home. I spent a few weekends with the Thomas Family, and the last night we were in port before sailing, was also the same night that Elvis made his debut to the movie screen, this is when they screened Love Me Tender. Not being an Elvis fan I didn't think I would like it. But seeing as some of the Crew were invited as guests to the Premier of it, how could we knock it back. So with all hands at their stations, on that early Sunday morning, we set sail for the long trip up the west coast back to Plymouth.
There were more stops on the way up the coast, mostly one day in and out you could say. The first of these was in Luanda, in Angola. It was here that I got into a bit of strife, all through the four on eight off watch keeping. I had arranged for a sub to do my afternoon watch so I could go ashore for a swim at the local Olympic pool. Unfortunately my friend and I somehow missed the launch back to the ship, making us adrift. As I had already upset the skipper on a previous occasion, for this little spell ashore I lost my hook. He was kind enough to let me keep my good conduct badge though. So that was another drop in pay for me, definitely no Cathedral wedding for me I'm afraid. What really upset me though, was while we were at Simonstown; I got a telegram from my mother saying my young brother who was badly burned in an accident had died.
I was told then there was no way he could get a replacement for me as she had requested. I had to carry on for the rest of the tour. And yet as soon as I lost my hook, he raised three stokers up to acting killick in one swipe. Who said ( Captain Bligh)Charles Laughton from Mutiny on the Bounty was dead.
From Luanda we went to Libreville, then out to sea again to the Island of Sao Tome. Once more I was lucky enough to get time off to go and have a game of football. Afterwards myself and another killick seaman the same lad, who went swimming with me, went to the house of one of the players, where we were wined and dined all evening. After a very pleasant meal and drinks, he had his chauffeur drive us back, and said if he could make it, he would see us in the morning before we sailed.Unfortunately he couldn't make it, but he did send his chauffeur along with a gift for both of us. It's a good job it was well wrapped up because the parcel contained two bottles of Chivas Regal Scotch Whisky.
There was nobody else on the messdeck when we opened it, so we had a chance to stash it before anybody found out what it was. Our next stop was to the Congo itself, yes up where the big beasties were. But when we got there it was more like any dockyard we had been to. It did look very much like the setting they would have used for Harry Belafonte's song The Banana boat song. Because all we could see everywhere was bananas being loaded on ships. . Although we were there just for the one-day, I had no problems with subs or anything this time. For some reason there were more than enough engine room hands to handle everything. When I got ashore I found a local witch doctor thinking maybe I could get him to put a spell on the skipper, but in my broad Scots accent, he didn't know what I was talking about.
Our next stop on the map would have to be the best run ashore we had all the way up the coast. And that was to Nigeria at the port of Lagos. The reason I say this is, because we had our final game of football here, but what an experience it was for the team itself.As far as we knew it was just another game against one of the local teams. But what a surprise we were in for, they loaded us on a bus, in our strips ready to play of course, but instead of going to some local field somewhere in the bush, they dropped us off in the middle of town, at some laneway, and here they told us just to go down the lane and someone would be there to meet us. Yes there was someone there to meet us, all thirty or forty thousand of them. It was indeed one of the league teams we were there to play, and what looked like a capacity crowd to greet us in this vast stadium.No guessing who got the runners up prize. There was one incident just before halftime when a nail came through my boot. During the break I tried to get someone to get it fixed. Nobody seemed to be interested, except for some first aid man who gave me the scissors out of his case. I was a bit late getting back on the ground, but when I did, the game had already started without me.So when I arrived out of the dugout, there was such a yell went up. It seems we were truly getting done for, but the locals had taken a shine to our lads, and for the effort we put into the game. Yes it was indeed our last game for the trip, but one I'm sure none of us will ever forget.

This only left our two final stops, one at Monrovia, in Liberia, and the other was, Freetown, which is now in a country called Guinea.Again there were runs ashore at both places for both watches. But I guess the crew by this time was getting a little bit anxious to get going and get home. There weren't too many invites ashore in most of our stops up the coast, and as I said the difference to these countries compared to South America, well I guess the lads were spoiled rotten over there.
At last we were on that final run home, all the souvenirs, presents and memorabilia, were once taken out again and looked at, repacked and packed again, in the cases ready for the customs man to have a look at.
From Freetown it seemed a long trip, maybe because we didn't stop anyplace up that last stretch. I think we managed to see all the movies again that we had on board, and some were lucky enough to win a few bob playing Tombola. I didn't take any chances with what monies I had; I had a wedding to think of. Oh yes! There was one chief engine room tiffy, who more or less taught a lot of us to strum a guitar. I can't remember his second name; I do remember him as wee Sam. He made that last stretch a wee bit more pleasant with his singalongs.
The last bit of excitement for me was when my friend and I from the seaman's mess shared one of the bottles of Chivas Regal. We decided one day seeing as I had my own tape recorder on board, to make a recording to send to our folks. We did this because we knew that we would be second leave party, and this would be better than just an everyday letter. So hidden away in the signals room one night, with the bottle and two good sized glasses, we set about making what started out as a three inch tape, but finished up with a seven inch one instead.
I heard that tape when I got home, as a matter of fact my mother insisted I translate most of it, for some reason she said we sounded as if we had just come from a stag's party or something. I didn't have the nerve to tell her the truth, and just made it up as I went along with the translation.
On entry to the Plymouth Sound, I think every Tom Dick and Harry, was either on the upper deck, or had his head poking out the portholes. And when we finally tied up. I never saw such a scramble to see the wives or girlfriends.
So there you have it, I know it is not a record of the log book or anyway near it. But it's told the way I best remember it, and I hope it brings back some pleasant memories to some who served on that tour.

Yours Eddie Caruthers