When One Of Our Ships Goes East

There’S Fun And

Fire Crackers

By J. P. Shortall

• Most veteran ships of the South Pacific seem to end up sooner or later in the Far East—either to begin a new life trading out of Hongkong, or going straight to the melting pots of Japan.

IN June, I left New Zealand in the 24-year-old Waitaki (re christened Tai Yuin ) as Third Mate/Radio Officer, on what was a variation of this theme: The vessel, which is well known on both sides of the Tasman, had been sold to a company in Formosa, and those of us who took her up there had the distinction of being the first all-foreign crew to man a Chinese ship.

However, most of those who lined up on the after deck of the ship in Wellington, on May 30, to witness the lowering of the New Zealand flag, and the raising of the Nationalist Chinese flag, were not aboard Tai Yuin when she put to sea on June 9.

Someone had overlooked the NZ Seamen’s Union, and the original volunteer crew went ashore, re luctantly but inevitably, following much high-level talk behind closed doors.

There were two choices —a dinkum Chinese crew, or a dinkum NZ Union crew. While they talked it cut, loading ceased, and crews in the loading agent’s own vessels held up their ships in sympathy.

The Australian Pay As You Earn system whereby the shipowner pays the Union a bribe of £125 per crewman for the privilege of tak ing aboard a foreign crew and get ting his ship delivered without further hold-ups—does not apply in New Zealand’s anti-Communist controlled Union.

See How They Do in Formosa For various reasons, one of which was said to be that the Chinese Nationalist Government is keen that foreigners should have a chance of seeing conditions in Formosa today, the owners chose a NZ Union crew under a guarantee of two months’ pay, most of which was to be de posited in Wellington prior to the vessel’s departure.

In Sydney we added to our part cargo of scrap metal, and on top of that, loaded a consignment of bagged copper concentrate.

This greyish powder has a tend ency to heat if at all damp, and special ventilating fans were fitted, at considerable expense, to deal with this situation.

Out of Townsville, the Second Engineer dislocated his shoulder, and when a hasty study of the Shipmaster’s Medical Guide failed

to fix things we had to turn back for it to be attended to by an expert; and two days later thick, black fuel oil came spluttering out of the taps and showers, which gave us an unscheduled call at Rabaul.

For the Third Mate, who had last been in Rabaul as a Kuskus with WRC’s Durambah and Coombar in the year of the big eruption— 1937—there were some changes indeed, with the many modern stores and houses and the town completely

reorganised—and a conducted car tcur of it all by Captain Jerry Squires, of the Government ship ping section, plus a first-ever haircut by a lady barber who seemed to be in brisk demand. (Can she be Rabaul’s only barber?) That, and a sampling of the New Guinea-brewed cool beer in the two pubs, was all we had time to see of Rabaul.

Viola, Winnie and Doris

We crossed the equator on July 6, and two days later, off Satawal, in the Carolines, and well into the moist, stifling unpleasantness of the Intertropical Convergence Zone, Guam and Tokyo announced the formation of Typhoon Viola up ahead of us and south of Guam.

Viola was no surprise, as July is the worst month of the year for the appearance of typhoons in that area bounded by the China coast, the

Philippines, and the string of islands extending south from Japan.

The meteorological gentry have reserved 84 two-syllable names, in four groups of 21, for the use of these particular females. The names are used in alphabetical order but a few letters of the alphabet are not used —c, u, and x-y-z—due to the difficulty of finding names to fit these letters.

Before reaching Keelung we’d thought up one or two simple names which would have applied equally to all.

With winds of up to 130 knots near her centre, Viola was no lady; nor were Winnie, Alice, Betty or Doris who followed her —but the forecasting and typhoon tracking service in this area is very good, in deed.

American aircraft of the typhoon tracking service took off daily from Guam, Manila, or Okinawa, depend ing on the location of the storm, to fly over or close to it and obtain precise details of the diameter of its eye, its “skirt” and its direction of movement.

The findings are broadcast in morse to .shipping from Guam, Tokyo, Manila, and other stations, and over the American Far East Network broadcasting stations scat tered over this area.

But we had our troubles with Guam, whose primary task as far as international shipping is con cerned, is to collect coded weather observations from such shipping, pass them on to Fleet Weather Central for processing, and then to broadcast the results in the form of lengthy morse bulletins, which in clude the vital typhoon messages.

The passing of a simple coded weather message to Guam is a painful major operation of endless repetitions—so tedious that probably a good many ships’ radio men give it up as a bad job and do not bother to send in reports after the first few experiences.

Often as not, the station is five minutes late in commencing its bulletins, and with no close watch on the automatic transmitting equipment, a 20-minute typhoon message may be completely garbled.

In marked contrast are the on the-dot detailed and closely watched weather transmissions from Tokyo, although we later had our problems with other Japanese stations.

Tai Yuin was not equipped with seme of the radio frequencies re quired in this area. Due to the enormous concentration of inter national shipping round Japan, the coast stations there are working under high pressure almost all the time, and any ship incapable of conforming with the local pro cedures for fast traffic handling is something of a spanner in the works.

Typhoon Viola moved north,

parallel with but to the west of our track, and at about our speed -10 knots. The resulting hot, damp following breeze was with us for days, during which Winnie appeared away to the south-westward, then Alice in a more threatening position.

Viola eventually crossed ahead of us and ran way to the north-east on a most unusual course. Alice merely sat and threatened us ahead and to the westward, eventually moving off to batter Formosa. Betty led a short but gay life somewhere to the south. Doris we met later.

Fire Down Below For several days in mid-July our copper concentrate cargo had been emitting fumes, though the ther

mometers in the holds, read at four hourly intervals, gave no cause for worry.

However, one noon there was no mistaking the smoke from No. 3 hold ventilators.

After due consideration, as to best action to be taken, the hold was opened—just as smoke appeared also from No. 2 ventilators. The fires were found to be in localised areas and hoses were turned on them, but it was evident that there were going to be more outbreaks in other places in the near future.

The paper and hessian bags were igniting—the copper concentrate does not itself burn. Orders were given for maximum possible speed.

As water was played on the out

breaks the sulphurous fumes in creased —but by the time we steamed lip the Gulf of Tokyo two mornings later the situation was under con trol, and the fire-floats which met us were dismissed.

For anyone interested in shipping, the run up the Gulf to Yokohama is quite an experience, with literally hundreds of fishing launches, junks, coasters, and every kind of ship up to the largest passenger liners bustling by.

Photographically, the approach is disappointing with a hot sun beating down but very reduced visibility and little sight of land.

Yokohama city from a buoy in the inner harbour —most ships lie at buoys and work cargo with lighters —is not photogenic, being quite flat.

For the Mates of Tai Yuin, Japan meant mainly long hours of cargo watching and few hours ashore.

Such shore hours included a 40minute run by electric train along the coast, through a heavily built up area, to Tokyo; a tour of that city with an attractive English-speak ing university student as guide; a browse round those fabulous stores; and a dinner as guest of the ship ping company’s local manager at cne of Tokyo’s finest tea houses.

Meanwhile the Japanese water siders were having a far from pleasant time down in the heat and fumes of the holds, shovelling up that portion of the cargo damaged by fire and water. But in four days, thanks to the high-pressure workers, we were bound for Kobe to com plete discharge.

Japan was then being alerted against Typhoon Doris, and winds steadily increased during our two day run round the coast, again under conditions of rain and low visibility. [ Steam pressure was falling at

this stage due to the urgent need for Tax Yuin’s smoke tubes to be cleaned, a shore job. As we rounded O Shima for the run up the Kii Channel towards Kobe it was clear that Doris was heading in our direc tion.

Arriving off the big port in the late afternoon we were refused entrance and some ships were being sent outside to ride out the blow.

During the evening the wind in creased to about 50 knots, but began to ease before mid-night.

Doris had altered direction, strik ing the coast instead in the Tokyo area, causing heavy flooding, damage to homes, and some loss of life in Japan’s first typhoon of the season.

Next morning, the weather clear and fine but very hot, we were piloted to a harbour buoy, the last of our scrap metal began to go over the rail, and the mail arrived aboard —lots of it, mostly from the little bars that cater for sailors.

A Letter from Setsuko

An analysis later seemed to sug gest that Radio Officers and Third Mates are looked on as the best business prospects in Kobe. The choicest of these missives, in a delicately lavender scented envelope, hand addressed, read as follows; “Dear Monsieur: Welcome you cordially to our beautiful Kobe; I wish you have anchored at Kobe Port after your good voyage on your way. I am so happy to send a word in your ear how to spend your gay time in Kobe, for your maximum enjoyment at your minimum ex pense. ‘Seeing is believing’. I do not like to set out flowery words before you. Monsieur, please just drop in our BAR OHIO. You will be satis fied enough with our strictly chosen sociable Galaxy of Belles besides our home-like service. You never miss your best chance unless you lose a seat in OHIO. Our selected drinks will blow away your fatigue in a moment and lead you into a Paradise.”

And as a final touch: “I am wait ing for the moment when I welcome you in my arms and whisper my sincere Hello at the Coziest Corner in Kobe, BAR OHIO. Yours adorer, Setsuko.”

A card worth one drink on the house, with a little location map on the back, was thoughtfully enclosed as an added lure.

But there are many Setsukos and bright little air-conditioned bars in Kobe. It is also a fact that the sociable Galaxy of Belles all drink a great deal of the most expensive drinks, no matter how few beers the guest may consume.

Gentlemen's Agreement

A ship flying the Chinese Nationalist flag should be fair game for Communist attack, but as of July a sort of unwritten agreement

appeared to be in force —provided you kept your distance.

We provided plenty of opportunity for unwelcome attention, as we headed south on the last leg of our journey.

Orders were to notify Keelung twice daily of our position, course, and speed. There was no provision for coding these messages, which were sent on frequencies monitored by the Communist stations.

But it was nice to be visited by a US Naval patrol plane each day— for there seemed no reason why we might not receive a less welcome visit from elsewhere than Okinawa, Just to prove that danger existed, a small Chinese ship was sunk in Formosa Strait the day prior to our arrival at Keelung.

This five-day passage was in hot,

fine weather, with the Ryukyu Islands in sight, and was enlivened first by an SOS from a Japanese freighter ashore on a rock off the south of Formosa: and then by a serious engine breakdown which re duced our speed to 5 knots for the last day’s run.

Relief of our engine-room staff was great, indeed, when the mist shrouded hills about Keelung hove into sight on July 29 and a rather excitable Chinese pilot came up the side some time later.

New Owners, With Fireworks

Then began the Great Handover, an experience that we’re not likely to forget. As the ship preceded up harbour—past a good many other cld veterans —and approached her berth, we noticed a long red em

broidered banner strung from a upper gallery of the wharf. Belo the many Chinese characters w£ the English greeting, “Welcome t the New Zealand Seamen”.

As the heaving-lines went ashoi and berthage commenced, a deafer ing fusillade of fireworks com menced. This had the divertin effect of considerably hamperin berthage, as no one could hear th shouted orders.

The moment the gangway we down we were invaded—by repre sentatives of a Trade Union delega tion there to greet us as the firs group of New Zealand seamen, c other workers ever to visit Fre China; by the new owners; b apparently all the shareholders; a, the leading shipping people in th port; all their relatives; and, lastly by the new officers and crew, coni plete with inventories ready t check everything in the ship, tak: over, and get her away to sea again Forty dozen of Japanese beei brought down in the ship’s freeze from Kobe, at the new owners account, was promptly broken ou, and before long everyone was clap: ping everyone else on the bac« drinking to the solidarity of thr Non-Communist World, the succes of the ship and its owners, thr health of the New Zealand crew and similar causes—that’s what m imagined we were drinking to although as hardly anyone coulJ speak English, all this was neve very clear.

In the midst of it all, wit: sightseers everywhere and scarcell room to manoeuvre, I was prodde? in the ribs by a polite and ven alert little gentleman who intrcn duced himself as the new Radii Officer, and could we proceed witd the hand-over.

Fortunately, Mr. Tsung-Tao is man who obviously knows all abouj radio and is quick on the uptake: despite his limitations in English but there were some baff linr moments in trying to explain thr technical ailments and peculiariti© of the Tai Yuin’s particular radii, equipment and just precisely whic.c switch worked what.

While this went on, the nevr engineers were scurrying round bee low, trying valves to see what hapq pened, and generally figuring thl whole thing out.

A truce was declared at 10 p.rrn and operations resumed at dayj light next morning.

A 1 at Keelung

By 10 a.m. everyone seemed happjc They could make her go. Alreadb essential repairs were in hand. Shd would be at sea again within a fers days—running bananas and pineej apples from Keelung to Japan, ann general cargo back.

Some passenger accommodatio:o was to be arranged and somtr

additional refrigeration installed at Kobe next trip. Our engineers didn’t believe it possible, but we can take it for granted that, whatever the problems involved, Tai Yuin is now operating, and classed as A-l at Keelung—if not at Lloyds. These Chinese engineers gave the im pression of men well used to trouble.

There was nothing much left for us to do but go home. First, the 30 mile bus ride to Taipei and then the flight to Hongkong.

Taipei is a city of great contrasts.

There are the most modern and luxurious air-conditioned hotels and eating houses and stores, yet most of the passenger transport seems to be carried out by the thousands of pedicabs which are backed in to the footpaths in rows, awaiting hire.

Cheek by jowl with the modern stores and hotels are the much less impressive though very interesting bazaar-type stores. As in Hongkong, many children beg for money.

In the several days at a Taipei hotel we were feasted by the Chinese Federation of Labour and associated labour unions on two occasions, the lengthy dinners including such exotic dishes as fried frogs with bamboo shoots, braised mushrooms and quails’ eggs, and braised Eight Treasury—whatever that might be.

In Hongkong, most of the crew and some of the officers transferred to a ship which will now be regularly seen in Polynesian waters, the Union Company’s new refriger ated fruit ship Tarawera.

The rest of us caught the Qantas plane South.