Monthly Archives: May 2016

1:4 (1974) As the Cathedral bells peeled…

31 Tuesday May 2016

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On day two of our visit we were scheduled to sail at 5pm and so Chief gave me the day off; he knew how much I’d been looking forward to visiting the Rock. “You did a great job on store ship yesterday Dixy, be back by 4pm lad” he said. I loved Chief! As I left the ship at 9am for 6 hours shore leave in Gibraltar I felt as free as a bird; died and gone to heaven would be no exaggeration.

 
#Walkabout has always been a passion of mine, particularly when I have no particular place to go or route in mind; I love people watching and just going where the flow takes me. As I’ve grown older and developed more confidence I quite love chatting with people I’ve never met before but even as an 18 year old I was quite gregarious. I think I probably have the Royal Navy to thank for that side of my development because when I joined up I was very shy, reserved and sorely lacking in confidence and self esteem.

 
Coming out of the dockyard I had no idea where I was in relation to anywhere else but that didn’t matter to me because my plan was to go anywhere (and everywhere) I liked and then at about 3:30pm phone that number the taxi driver had given me. Knowing what I know now Gibraltar has changed quite a lot over the years and so where I came out of the dockyard may have been either somewhere around Queensway or Rosia but no matter because within minutes I found myself on Main Street.

 
Main Street, Gibraltar is one of those world famous streets a bit like Boogie Street, Singapore or even Times Square, New York; it stretches from Casemates Square at the bottom to Trafalgar Cemetery at the top or the other way around depending on which end you start at and is literally peppered with shops, cafes, pubs and bars. Enhancing this wonderful street is John Mackintosh Square, affectionately known as the Piazza, which (along with Casemates Square) is a social hub of outdoor tables and chairs where people often wile away an hour or two. Further up the street is the beautiful Cathedral of the Holy Trinity; further up still is the Convent Square where the ritual guard ceremonies take place.

img_0147Self portrait

 

I took a seat on one of the many public benches to just soak up the atmosphere and touch base with how I felt at being somewhere I was already beginning to feel spiritually connected to. Looking over at the Piazza could I ever have known that in  a few years time I would be sitting there with my three daughters having cool drinks as local women screamed ‘bambinos’ in delight and took them all for a walk. Glancing over at the Emporium could I ever have known then that I would take my children in to buy them sweets and that when I looked again at that building in 2016 it would be a branch of Mothercare. As the bells of the Cathedral peeled could I ever have known that my children would have a triple christening there in 1977; could I?

1:3 (1974) The British will rule as long as the apes are here.

30 Monday May 2016

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My first ever visit to Gibraltar was (unfortunately) quite brief, just a couple of days really which was the norm for warships heading out to the Far East. On arrival one of the first tasks was to ‘store ship’ which was a phrase used to take on stores that we (my department) had pre-ordered. Literally everything from frozen foods, fruit and veg, clothing, spare parts and nuts and bolts needed to be humped off the jetty onto the ship then ferreted down below to various storerooms and fridges.

 
The process of ‘store ship’ required ‘clear lower decks’ which meant that everyone got involved, formed lines and took part in getting the stores onboard by passing/throwing boxes, bags and containers from pallets on the quayside all the way down to the relevant store. The downside of this wonderful joint effort was that as soon as the stores were onboard and in the vicinity of the relevant storeroom everyone (apart from the stores department i.e me) could bugger off and go ashore. Needless to say it would be some time before I had checked off all of the orders and stowed away the goods by which time the crew were well on their way to being half cut in one of Gibraltar’s 365 pubs.

 
In some ways it was quite fortuitous for me that my ‘run ashore’ was delayed because I had no desire to go drinking; I wasn’t fond of the smell of booze or being in the company of drunks. When I finally did get ashore my first thought was the apes and to that end I jumped straight into a taxi.

 
On the way up the Rock to see the apes the driver pointed out things he felt I would find interesting as drivers do in the hope of receiving a tip. I had every intention of tipping him anyway but was very happy for him to educate me just the same. In pointing to Spain he said that Franco had closed the border back in 1972 but I wasn’t phased by that because I wasn’t into politics and had no desire to visit Spain. As we neared the apes he changed the subject telling me that Gibraltar’s rock apes were actually macaques and there were hundreds roaming wild. “If the apes ever leave the Rock then so will the British and so we have to take care of them” he said as we pulled up, “And watch your camera our they will take it”. At that point I realised with horror that I had forgotten my camera.

 
Since I wasn’t taking photos I sat on a wall to watch the troop and it wasn’t long before (what seemed to be) a family of apes came over to inspect me and see if I had anything worth pinching. When they decided I didn’t and that I was no particular threat they were happy just to carry on and do their thing. Some of the older adults sat observing the ships in the harbour while some nipped fleas out others’ fur. Younger apes played like children, wrestling with each other and play biting if there is such a thing. “It’s to do with them sorting out their pecking order” my driver informed me. I was fascinated and loved watching them. I wondered why people couldn’t take a leaf out of their book.

 
For a while my driver asked if there were other attractions I wanted to see but he eventually stopped asking as he realised I was totally happy sitting on a wall watching the apes and admiring the view of the harbour and the town below. He must have been bemused because it was quite late when we left the apes den after several hours and that I was happy to pay his (quite high) fare with a generous tip. When he dropped me off he shook my hand and with a big smile gave me his phone number in case I wanted to go back to see the apes. Forty two years later I still have the piece of paper with his phone number on it. More importantly I still have my wonderful memories of sitting alone for hours with the apes and feeling very privileged to do so; and I still think people could take a leaf out of their book and care more for each other.

1:2 (1974) When I saw her I knew Gibraltar would become very special to me

29 Sunday May 2016

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On the 8 January 1974 HMS Scylla led the 7th Frigate Squadron, eight ships in total, out of Portsmouth harbour for what was to be a nine month deployment to the Far East. It was a very emotional departure for most of the sailors as hundreds of families were lined up on the jetty’s and quaysides waving them off to the dulcet sounds of the Royal Marines band. Having already bid my elderly foster parents ‘bye at New Year I didn’t have that lump in my throat like many of the others but I was still amazed at how many people had come to see us off; from standing to attention on the upper deck all I could see was a human caterpillar stretching miles along the Hampshire coast.

Before long we were out at sea, out of vision and so changed into workwear to assume our normal sea going duties. I knew the (English) Channel and the Bay (of Biscay) had reputations of rough weather but after two months surviving the Gale Force storms of Iceland I wasn’t too concerned. Having said that the seas were rough and there were times I felt really sick but stayed focused thinking it wasn’t going to be for long.

As a Stores Accountant most of my time at sea was spent ‘down below’ either in the stores office or in one of our storerooms and so I had to keep nipping up onto the upper deck to see where we were; I didn’t want to miss our approach to Gibraltar. Many of the lads onboard had been in the Navy far longer than me and had visited all of the usual ports on many occasions, including Gibraltar. Their conversations seemed to revolve around the fact that Gibraltar had 365 pubs, one for every day of the year, and that their sole aim during our brief visit was to get ‘mortal’, ‘marinated’ or ‘steaming’ depending on what part of the U.K. they were from. Whether Gibraltar does have or ever has had 365 pubs I don’t know but visiting any of them wasn’t on my itinerary. I was only18 and not a particularly big drinker at that time; on top of that I was more interested in seeing real apes than men mimicking them drunk. I’d seen enough of that with my foster dad rolling home (see Memoirs of a Child in Care).

Years later, when living in Gibraltar with my family, I recall whenever ships were in port we didn’t go anywhere that sailors may happen to be, in fact we positively avoided those places but then that’s another story and a tale for Chapter 2.

I don’t remember the exact date we arrived at the Rock other than it was in January but there’s a guy who owns a shop in Gibraltar (opposite John Mackintosh Hall) selling photos of Royal Navy warships would probably know for sure. What I do know is the minute that someone spotted the Rock from several (nautical) miles away my eyes were glued to it; and the nearer we got the less I blinked not wanting to miss a moment of our arrival (or end the awe I was feeling).

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As we berthed alongside I looked up at this massive Mediterranean lump of Britain in the sun and knew then Gibraltar would become very special to me.

1:1 (1974) I screamed inside with delight. I was going to Gibraltar.

28 Saturday May 2016

Posted by in Gibraltar, ICELANDIC CONFLICT, ROYAL NAVY

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It was January 1974 and I was serving aboard HMS Scylla (F71), Flagship of the 7th Frigate Squadron. By then I’d been in the Royal Navy for about two and a half years and had served on Scylla for the previous 13 months.
During 1973, following a major refit, Scylla had been on work-up and trials at Portland which was pretty draining for the crew. It was the Royal Navy’s way of putting a warship through its paces to check its systems, weaponry and crew readiness – ensuring (to put it bluntly) that it was ready for war. Some of the exercises went on for hours and hours and necessitated men having to wear additional heavy clothing, head gear or masks and remain at ‘action stations’ for very long periods of time; needless to say we were all glad when it was over. It wasn’t too long though before we were rewarded with a couple of courtesy visits to Brest (France) and Flensburg (Germany) prior to escorting HM Queen Elizabeth aboard HM Royal Yacht Britannia around Scotland.
Flensburg, Germany 1973

Escorting HM Royal Yacht Brittania. The Queen and Duke in the foreground, Prince Andrew watching.

Significantly that year we had also taken part in (what later would be referred to as) the Icelandic Cod War during which we had been rammed by the Icelandic Gunboat Aegir. The Icelanders only had five gunboats which were small compared to a Leander Class Frigate but were all fitted with ice breakers capable of causing serious ruptures. Although we had sustained damage the affected compartments were shored up and we continued then completed our tour of duty regardless.


HMS Scylla during the Icelandic conflict


My Ink Painting of the Icelandic conflict

Sometime in the autumn of ’73 news of our next deployment came through and all-to-a-man were delighted to hear we were finally off to see some sunshine, particularly after the drain of Portland Trials and the chills and gale force storms of Iceland. Come January ’74 Scylla was to lead a deployment of 6 warships and 2 RFAs (Royal Fleet Auxiliaries) out to the ‘Fez’ (Far East) calling at an amazing selection of places including Sierra Leone, South Africa, Mombasa, the Gulf, Singapore, Hong Kong, Bangkok, Australia and New Zealand.

Particularly exciting for me was the very first (and very last) stop on this fabulous trip – Gibraltar; that big Rock where the apes lived. I screamed inside with delight, then phoned my cousin Paul.

Welcome

27 Friday May 2016

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There are a million reasons why I love Gibraltar. Her beauty, her history, her people, her apes; how could I not love her apes? Is such a thing even possible?
Some of my million reasons come directly from feelings, memories and emotions which began when I was a boy of about 9 listening to my Royal Naval cousin Paul telling me tales of his travels; he’d been all over the world but his stories about the Rock of Gibraltar fascinated me the most. In the mind of a little boy the idea of a massive rock with apes on it was awesome – ‘…what…and people live there too?’  I knew then that I would join the Royal Navy and I would see the world, especially this Rock of Gibraltar with its apes.

More of my million reasons connect to when I was a teenager and saw the Rock for the very first time from a warship and later when I was fortunate to live there with my family in the seventies. Recently, in 2016, I realised an absolute dream and finally returned to the Rock after an absence of forty years and although I was nervous I shouldn’t have been. I felt safe, relaxed and that I belonged, as I had always felt there.

I’ll never profess to be the most skilled writer but for me that isn’t too important; my memoirs tend to be a collection of anecdotes strung together over a theme and in this case over most of my lifetime. My aim is just to write my story and touch on some of those million reasons I love Gibraltar because when I write, I’m there.

Over three chapters (1-1974, 2-1976/77/78, and 3-2016) I’ll be going back to HMS.Rooke, the Fleet Pavillion, St.Michaels Cave, Europa Point, the Mediterranean Steps, the back streets of the old town……the Small Boat Marina…Main Street…Oh, and if you want to tag along…. you’re very welcome. X Alan 🙂