大象传媒

The general routine of our destroyer consisted of forays with the Fleet into the Atlantic and anti-submarine patrols. This continued after our sally to Genoa. It was on one such patrol that I now continue. We had been patrolling to the east of Gibraltar for some time in thick fog. I was doing duty as quartermaster in the wheelhouse, and for some days the ship was navigating in fog by dead reckoning. About 12 noon I was relieved on the wheel and went out on the bridge platform to get a breath of fresh air and see what there was to see. There was nothing but a mist, which only allowed me to see the passing seas as we slowly did our patrol, but little else. It was then I saw a line of lighter coloured shapes pass by as the ship sailed on. Then it was that the first impact was felt from the keel, followed by a more substantial blow that caused the ship to stop. The engines stopped and all was eerily quiet. It was of course the result of running aground, and the lines of lighter coloured sea I had seen passing by were in fact limestone rocks. I was relieved to have confirmed that it was only a new diversion, if embarrassing. For the Captain and Navigating Officer it was a more serious matter. As the seamen and the coxswain and the duty officers gathered to see what had to be done, the mist, which had persisted for days suddenly, lifted. There it was quite clear that we were firmly aground and more to the point we were quite close to the shore. A whole series of events took place and the ones that I remember best I now record, maybe not quite occurring in this order. On shore we saw a gathering of people, as they curiously looked on it in obvious surprise at this warship on their doorstop.
Then a group of small fishing boats came close to us. The sailors aboard her made gestures that they would sell us some fish, and soon there was a barter going on They the fishermen were quite happy to trade fish for cigarettes, tobacco, or articles of clothing such as shirts and vests, new or used. Later we saw on the shore two military figures in fancy green and gold uniforms gesticulating to us. A small boat, I think, from us was sent to pick them up. Meantime the seamen on our ship were putting together the gear necessary to try to kedge our destroyer of the rocks. This kedging operation was a standard operation in the seamen鈥檚 manual and was effected by placing a kedge anchor away from the ship and winching off by means of a wire hawser. I suppose speed was of the essence as we may have been further in hazard if the tide were on the turn. But in any case it transpired that under international law we had but 24 hours to clear ourselves or be interned. The outcome finally was that the winching maneuver was very smartly done and we were on our way. At least that was the theory but a new problem appeared. The impact on the rocks had damaged one of our propellers so badly that the whole ship bobbed up and down to the rhythm of the bent shaft and so we made our wobbly way back to Gibraltar to much relieved humour. We had got safely away unaided, and we passed a tug on our way back which had been sent to tow us off the rocks.
This episode was very important in many ways but exceptionally as we had to go back to the U K to have our propeller and shaft replaced.
Before a final decision was made that a return to England was necessary, a period was spent in the Dockyard. We were in dry dock so that the extent of the damage could be ascertained. That started a most pleasant round of harbour routines. Off duty we had the pleasant recreation of going round to the east side of Gibraltar to Catalina Bay where we could swim quite safely from the small beach and buy refreshments, cakes and drinks, to complete the pleasure. I have photographs taken on one such occasion, and which are matched with photographs taken when Jennifer my older grand daughter, came with me for a holiday to the same Catalina Bay nearly 50 years later. (I believe the right front is Lenny Robinson, and I am to his left in blue serge uniform. The third left is I think the storekeeper or Jack Dusty)

The results of the survey of the damage were such that the Naval Dockyard was unable to complete the repairs. One of the ships propeller shafts needed to be replaced and there were none held in stock. The decision was made therefore to sail back to England.
The return home was taken in the company of a convoy of merchant ships with a Naval escort. Because we were only driven by one propeller we were not part of the escort and so we made our slow way out into the Atlantic for a long journey. There is little I can remember of the trip until we left the convoy to make our way up the English Channel to our homeport of Chatham. I must admit I was not very relaxed as we made the journey at night with the threat of attack by German E boats as a distinct risk, and I remember spending as much time as possible above deck.
The memory of being sunk in the Princess Victoria was ever present, and when we reached the Medway in the morning on our way to the Dry Dock I heaved a sigh of relief. The first operation was the task of taking all the ammunitions off, for which every seaman was given a job. The shells and torpedoes were off loaded on to Lighters and only then were we allowed to enter dock. There was the opportunity to have home leave which was 7 days. One particular memory I have is of a shipmate of mine, whose name I do not recall. I think he must have been a watch keeper like me, and we went ashore together to Chatham and caught a bus to Rochester. This was for no particular reason, just to get away from the ship and taste the quiet of the countryside. I remember that my friend was not very happy on his return from leave, and I think we talked about the cold feelings we had at leaving home and girl friends. Little did I expect him to 鈥渏ump鈥� ship before we sailed after the repairs were finished, but that is what he did. I never found out what became of him, but obviously he would have been in great trouble eventually. The picture below was taken on my leave with my ships name ribbon on my cap. I have little recollection of my leave, which is very strange, for by this time I had been engaged to be married. This was to Muriel, my long-term girl friend. Just three things stand out. One was when we heard with complete devastation of the sinking of HMS Hood whilst we were buying supper at the local fish and chip shop. The other was the occasion I met unexpectantly a boyhood friend, similarly on leave and a sailor in the navy. We had a great drinking session together, until we parted seriously 鈥渦nder the influence鈥�. My mother was devastated when I staggered in late for my lunch. She could not believe that I could be like that, since in peacetime I never indulged. It took a quiet word from my father for the situation to pass, as later I slept soundly to recover.

I remember when I returned from leave, that we had a taste of the Blitz, which seemed so threatening. After all we were in dry dock and the hazard of having the Dock Gates shattered and being overwhelmed by water was a new threat.

The repairs were successful and it was time to make our way back to Gibraltar to rejoin the Force 鈥� H 鈥�. The journey was not to be direct for we reached Plymouth Harbour to prepare for a new task. A flotilla of Motor Torpedo Boats was to be towed out to Gibraltar and a concentrated operation was entered into to get the technique right. This was a very interesting period, in which as quartermaster I could do my bit and with the benefit of a full view of the trials. The towing was of course necessary because of the limited fuel that the M T B had. When all was ready we made our ungainly way out of Plymouth and made our way to the Atlantic. A relatively uneventful trip came to an end with the Torpedo Boats casting off within reach of Gibraltar and no doubt with relief roared away out of sight at speed. The one event that I recall that emphasized the U boat peril concerned the safety of the convoy that we were traveling with. Since we were burdened with the tow, our speed was reduced. I suppose we were still able to act as escort if necessary, Protecting the convoy from the attention of German Condor
Spotting planes was a specially adapted merchantman with a rocket-launched fighter on a launching pad. In fact a Condor did circle out of range of our guns and was spotted. With a great roar and trail of smoke, our fighter was launched and climbed to intercept the enemy. The Condor made off in the cloud cover, and when the fuel ran out on the fighter, it was ditched in the sea with the pilot ejecting safely, to be picked up by one of the escorts. Whether the Condor had reported our position I never knew, but no U boat attacked us. This was a most interesting experience and indicative of the serious U boat warfare taking place in the Atlantic. I was to take a closer part in this warfare, as I will describe later on my posting to Liverpool.

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