The Adventures of a Conway Lad on RFA Bacchus 1967

 

Pennant No. A 404                     International Callsign GHVE                Registered LONDON

Previous Name N/A                                                                                Lloyds Identity No. 5033454

Builder Henry Robb Ltd, Leith. (Yard No. 483).

Launched 4th June 1962                                                                     Completed November 1962

Displacement (Light-ship) 2,740 tons                                               (Loaded) 8,165 tons

Measurement Tonnage N.R.T. 2,441                 G.R.T. 4,823                DWT 5,425

Dimensions Length O.A. 379 ft.                 Beam 55 ft.                          Draft 23 ft.

Main Machinery 1 x Swan Hunter / Sulzer  5 cylinder diesel engine. Single shaft. Speed 15 knots

Ships Badge Granted in 1962.  Bacchus was the son of Zeus and the God of Wine.  The badge depicts an arm reaching up from the sea, holding a gold chalice of wine.

Remarks A general cargo ship and the third RFA vessel to bear this name.  She was the sister-ship of, and has identical details to the “HEBE”, mentioned earlier.  Both ships were fitted with steel ‘McGreggor’ hatch covers, electric winches and both had air-conditioned accommodation areas. On both ships, speed and distance was recorded by a ‘Walker’s’ “Trident” log. This was a recording clock mounted on the taffrail and driven by a governed rotator, trailed through the sea on a log line behind the ship.

 

“BACCHUS” was returned to her owners, P & O, on completion of her long-term bareboat charter in 1981.

In 1982 she was sold by P & O to ‘Lion Shipping Co.’ of Singapore and re-named “CHERRY LANKA”.

She was sold finally to Pakistani shipbreakers, departing from Dubai on 20th December 1985 and arriving at Gadani Beach, Karachi on 31st December 1985.

 

The name “Bacchus” was first given to a British warship in 1806.

The sixth and previous “Bacchus” was an RFA store-ship, built in 1936 by ‘Caledonian Shipbuilding & Engineering Co’. She had a displacement of 5,150 tons, a deadweight of 3,300 tons and dimensions of 337ft length by 49 ft beam and 18 ft draft.

 

 

 

 

 

Bacchus

 

“BACCHUS”

 

11th January 1967 to 7th August 1967

 

Maltese Crew

 

Third Officer

 

Following a three month study period ashore at ‘King Edward VII Nautical College’ in London, I sat for and thankfully passed the several written examinations and the oral examination for the Board of Trade 2nd Mate (Foreign Going) Certificate.  I also attended an obligatory ‘Gyro Compass Maintainer’ course and a ‘Radar Operator’ course whilst at that college.

 

Armed with my new professional qualification I was appointed to join the “Bacchus” as 3rd Officer. She was the sister ship of the “Hebe” on which I had previously served as an apprentice.  I found her undergoing a brief refit period at Wallsend Slipway on Tyneside.  This was a place that I had come to know very well, from my weeks spent there on the “Oleander”.  During this refit the “Bacchus” was repainted, covering over the distinctive duck-egg grey/green colour she had worn for the past five years with the more familiar Admiralty grey.  She also had her pennant number, A 404, newly painted on either side of the hull and on her stern.  On completion of the two-week refit she was re-employed on the regular run between the U.K. and the Far East.

 

The 3rd Officer at sea was the 8-12 watchkeeper.  I was usually called at about 0700 by the steward, in time to take a shower and then have breakfast at 0730 before going up to the bridge and taking over the navigation duties from the Chief Officer at 0800.  This involved keeping a good lookout for shipping or other hazards and taking the appropriate avoiding action.  Also, keeping the ship as near as possible to the planned track, allowing for the effect of wind and tide or ocean currents.  During the morning watch, if within detectable range of land or electronic ‘Decca’ signals, the ship’s position would be fixed at regular intervals and plotted on the chart.  If we were well away from the land and were not covered with cloud, a couple of sun sights would be obtained with a sextant.  These gave position lines that could then be moved forward by the amount of the ships estimated course and speed and crossed with a noon-time sun altitude reading. This would then give the ship’s position at noon.  At 1200 I would be relieved on the bridge by the 2nd Officer.  He and I would take and compare ‘noon’ sextant readings, (the sun’s highest altitude for that day).  This usually occurred sometime between 1130 and 1230, depending on how ‘ship’s time’ compared with ‘real time’ at that position on the Earth.

 

There was normally time for a quick and refreshing drink in the bar before lunch was served at 1230.  The afternoon was usually spent catching up on a bit of work or my paperwork duties.  These included lifeboat and firefighting gear maintenance, updating various navigational publications, amending the lifeboat & firefighting watch bill, keeping records of lifeboat and firefighting equipment maintenance, recreational film returns and numerous other bits and pieces. If the workload permitted I would try to catch up on a bit of sleep or enjoy a bit of ‘bronzying’ (sunbathing).  At 1530 there was a break for afternoon “smoko”, when the stewards served tea and ‘tabnabs’ (biscuits or cake), to the officers.  At 1730, the 3rd Officer relieved the Chief Officer on the bridge for half an hour, whilst he went below and got his dinner.  The bar would open again at about that time for those off watch who wanted a drink before their dinner.  Then at 1800, all the off-watch officers and the Captain had the evening meal together in the saloon.  There was then a short period of relaxation before it was time to go up to the bridge again for the evening 8-12 watch.  At midnight the 2nd Officer took over the navigation duties and it was time to go below and get ‘turned in’ before the next call at 0700

Two or three times a week and when away from the U.K. coast, a feature film would be screened at 1630 for the evening watchkeepers and at 2030 for the others.  Looking after the projection equipment, a Bell & Howell 16mm projector plus other bits of equipment, and selecting the films from the Dockyard film libraries, was the 3rd Officer’s responsibility.  He could expect a lot of flak from fellow officers if the feature films and accompanying cartoons were not considered good ones!  The early “Tom & Jerry” cartoons were very popular and their credit screening was always accompanied by a rousing call of ‘Good old Fred’, referring to the film director Fred Quimby!  Other verbal encouragement from the audience to the poor projectionist included shouts of ‘SOUND’, if he forgot to turn up the volume control, or cries of anguish if the film broke, involving hasty repairs with celluloid glue.  After screening, these films could be swapped with any other RN or RFA ship during a RAS, or exchanged at any Dockyard or Naval Base.

 

I had my 21st birthday on “Bacchus”.  It must have been good because I don’t recall any of it, apart from receiving a nicely engraved ‘Ronson’ cigarette lighter from my fellow officers. (I smoked in those days).  Soon afterwards we had a re-run of the party when arriving at Chatham, which was not far from my parents home in Hastings.  I drove down to Hastings, taking the 2nd Officer and Radio Officer with me for moral support, where my Dad had arranged a small party at the Victoria Hotel.

 

Out in Singapore again, it was nice during some free time to go again to the Naval Base Officer’s Club, “HMS Terror”. There, we relaxed in and around the swimming pool.  When it got too hot at around noon-time, we cooled off with a dip followed by a couple of nice cold ‘Tiger-Tops’, ( local draught ‘Tiger’ beer topped off with lemonade).  This would usually be accompanied by a ‘Cheesey-Hammey-Eggy-Topside’ and a bowl of chips with tomato sauce. “Fantastic!”

 

During a homeward passage in June 1967, having recently sailed from Aden, we were part way up the Red Sea and heading for the Suez Canal when the Arab-Israeli “Six Day War” broke out.  Had we been two or three days further ahead, we would have been trapped in the Canal Zone.  Less fortunate ships than us were caught up in the conflict and were held in the Great Bitter Lakes for a couple of years until the political situation became stable again.  As it was, we turned about and proceeded south around Africa via the Cape of Good Hope.  We were also fortunate in having a ‘Worldwide’ folio of Admiralty charts on board.  Many commercial ships normally only carry and correct the charts that they are expecting to need.  We heard that many had to navigate for a while using atlases, when the sudden rush for African coastal charts exhausted all available supplies! Our subsequent voyages to and from the Far East were all routed around the Cape of Good Hope, calling at Cape Town briefly for mail and fresh supplies.  It was due to this little diversion that I acquired a taste for that lovely South African orange liqueur called “Van der Humm”.

 

During 1967, the simmering Aden situation developed into a crisis, amounting to a local war.  The Yemeni rebels wanted the British out of their land.  “Bacchus” was sent there, along with several other RFA’s and warships, to standby to withdraw the British Forces and all their equipment.  Many of the soldiers in the surrounding hills were having a tough time of it, with awful atrocities inflicted on any who were captured by the rebels.  A Colonel nick-named “Mad Mich” led the British troops who were hanging on by their teeth.  We loaded a lot of their equipment to prevent it falling into rebel hands and could hear the sound of battle even from the harbour.  The ships provided a temporary rest centre for exhausted troops, where they could unwind for a brief period before rejoining the fray.  Having loaded as much of their surplus gear as possible we sailed via the Cape and back to the U.K.

 

On one homeward voyage we called in at Gan, in the Maldives, to replenish the RAF base with stocks of bagged cement and beer. On arrival and seeing our deck cargo of old buses, one RAF wag said “blimey, you don’t see a bus here for months, then four come along at once!”

The airmen stevedores, having handballed the cement bags into cargo nets, barges and ashore, must have worked up a rare thirst in the equatorial heat and probably drank all the beer before we were even over the horizon.

 

After seven months I paid off the “Bacchus” in Chatham, whilst she was loading again for yet another shuttle voyage out to the Far East.