Dad In The Navy - The Memoirs Of John Francis Connor

After leaving Gibraltar for the last leg of the journey home we began to feel the cold creeping in. After over two years away from England I had become used to tropical weather and I suppose my blood was so much thinner. I remember one night particularly when we were crossing the Bay of Biscay, this was notorious for its rough seas as the Atlantic rollers came up to the French coast. I was on watch in the Crows Nest from midnight to four in the morning, - the dreaded "middle watch", when I reported at midnight, the seaman I took over from looked decidedly green about the gills. I watched him climb down the mast about 100 feet to the deck and began to dread the next four hours. I cant imagine anywhere on Earth where a mans stomach could be less at home than at the top of a ships mast in the Bay of Biscay on such a stormy night as that was. The ship was rolling almost 180 degrees and I watched the sea rushing up towards me each time she rolled to port and starboard, it was also

We left Port Said for a leisurely cruise of the Mediterranean, at a speed of 8 knots it suited me fine.  I was really in no hurry to get back to England although I was looking forward to seeing my family again. It was as though I knew that at twenty years of age I had already lived the best part of my life and been right around the world, anything that followed could only be humdrum. It was now late August and the skipper decided to have a stop each night at 4pm and order "all hands overboard", this was a recreation period and although of course it wasn't compulsory, almost everyone went over the side for a swim, the weather was still hot and I enjoyed the daily dip. We bypassed Malta although everyone reckoned we were going to stop there and plodded on slowly to Gibraltar. I liked Gibraltar very much, I suppose it was the feeling that we were nearly home but it was remarkably like England, there were bars with English sounding names and adverts with Johnnie Walker whisky

My lasting impression of Bombay will always be going through busy streets and seeing people settling down for the night in shop doorways and odd corners we had to step over sleeping bodies as we made our way along, a sad place altogether India was, I only hope that forty years later today's India has settled some of its poverty problems. Our next port of call was to be Aden which was then a British protectorate in south west Arabia, it was a journey of about 1600 miles so it would take us about eight days. We sailed straight across the Arabian Sea and I began to get an idea of old fashioned sea-fairing as I took my turn in the crows nest. You had to keep a real good look out as there was no radar whatsoever on the Portland Bill. We were told to watch out for land on the eighth day and low and behold I was on watch in the crows nest when it suddenly loomed up about 3.am in the middle watch. It was a good job it was a clear night, I thought at first that what I could see was a low cl

The next morning the Portland Bill sailed from Columbo and headed north up the coast of India to Bombay. This was a journey of about 1,000 miles so it should take us about five days, apart from lookout duty and a spot of painting, it wasn't too long and I enjoyed the trip, the weather was beautiful and we sailed pretty near the coast and I watched India roll by. We anchored outside Bombay itself and started a ferry service ashore with the ships boats, we were picking some sailors up who were going home and dropping a few who had to pick other ships up, it was a couple of days before I got ashore. Bombay was a teeming city, it seemed more crowded even than Hong Kong, there were some beautiful buildings but a lot of squalor, beggars were everywhere and you hardly dare stop for more than a couple of minutes or you would be surrounded by natives either selling or begging. We stuck to the main thoroughfares  for safety's sake but the lads decided to see the sights and four of us hir

Ashore in Columbo I found it quite an attractive place, it was much more civilised than Trincomalee. I only spent an afternoon and evening ashore as we had to be back on board by 10pm that night. We had  a meal - the usual SEAC (Steak, Egg and Chips) and a look around the town, then finished up as usual in a bar. Whilst waiting for the boat to take us back to the ship we were all standing on the jetty when a police car drove up, a white inspector got out and a couple of native policemen, they were accompanied by a native rickshaw puller. These four looked around the sailors until the rickshaw man pointed out a couple of sailors- these men were bundled into the police car and driven away. Apparently they had been riding in the mans rickshaw (or more correctly, a bicycle garry) and instead of paying him they had thrown his garry into the harbour. This unfortunately happened a lot out east where drunken sailors were concerned, however Columbo was well policed and I for one was glad to see

The Portland Bill was technically HMS Portland Bill as it was on its last journey as a troop transport before returning to SS Portland Bill general cargo carrier. She was one of the fort ships which were the equivalent of the American Liberty ships but Canadian built and each ship took about a week to build and was all welded.  When I joined her in Singapore I was told although I was taken passage to England I would be joining the crew and have to do crew work. This suited me as I had a lazy time on the Belfast and was getting a bit flabby. There was no radar on Portland Bill so I was told I would have to stand watch as lookout in the crows nest. This was OK in the tropics but I dreaded being up there in the rough and cold northern seas. Our first port of call was Trincomalee in Ceylon which we reached in about four days. I had volunteered for boats crew and our first job after anchoring was lowering the pinnace and setting off for the shore to find the best landing place for shore lea