Smudger Snippets
Created | Updated Jan 31, 2008
I suppose it's because I have so much time on my hands these days, that all these memories come flooding back to me.
Flashbacks
Of all the senses that can create a memory, I would say that sound is the strongest one for me, with smell being a close second. Of course that leaves taste and touch, but none of them have ever brought a memory back into my mind. They might do for others though, as we are not all the same when it comes to things like that. When I say 'sound' a lot of people think of a song right away, and indeed it's the same for me, yet the other sound that sparks off thoughts in my head, is the sound of a helicopter (chopper as we called them in the Navy and Paraffin Budgies when I worked off shore). They got the name Paraffin Budgies due to the smell of the exhaust that comes out of them, of course the larger ones they used when I used to work off shore were the Sikorsky, they could carry up to thirty men at a time; a big, large, noisy and clumsy-looking air craft, yet they were the backbone of the off shore oil business, not only flying men back and forth the rigs from shore, but also mail and supplies. Without them we were totally cut off from the rest of the world. Our accommodation, which were those Porto-cabins stacked up to six high, were right below the Heli-Pad on the upper deck of the semi-submersible, so the smell of the exhaust would waft down and enter the ventilation system, and at times it would be so strong it made your eyes water.
We never had the Internet in those days, so to manage and get a phonecall home to your family was a real treat for us. Even then it was a satellite phone which meant every word you said came back into the earpiece some thirty seconds after you had said it. We used to try and time our conversation to fit in with this; otherwise you could not hear what was being said to you from the other end. Our attitude to these choppers changed depending on whether we were flying out to the rig or coming back to shore. If it was going out, we used to have to walk out to the chopper from the terminal, as they could not get too close to the buildings because of the spinning rotors. In fact, they used to sit a good bit away from the terminal, leaving us having to walk out to it, which was not as easy as you may think, as we were wearing these survival suits and carrying our big offshore bags which held all our working clothes with boots and a change of clothes along with everything else we would need for our fortnight trip out there. In the winter months we would have to struggle through high winds and driving rain or snow as well. Some times when the fog came down, you could find yourself being stuck out there on the rig for an extra three or four days, and just carry on working. As if that wasn't bad enough, those days were knocked off your two weeks shore side, and back in the early days when we used to work a two week on and one week off rota, that meant you only got a few days at home, and then you were straight back out again!
I used to have this habit of tapping the ground twice with my right foot just before boarding the chopper steps, looking back on that now it seems like a stupid thing to do, yet at the time it was my way of leaving dry land for the last time. It was a habit I had picked up in the Navy when I would board the gangway of the ship for the last time before sailing, it brought me luck back then, so why change things, and well that's what I thought at the time. I used to do the same routine when leaving the flight deck of the rig on the return journey. Going back to our feelings about the choppers being different, on the day we were due to fly home from the rig, we would all be really tired as they used to make us go night shift on the second week of our trip, so you were in fact flying off, in what would have been your sleep time. So as soon as we finished our shift we would have breakfast then start to pack and then wait for the choppers to come. Of course they were flying back and forth every day and night while you were out there, but on this day it was your turn to go home, so you were like a kid in a candy store, just waiting. We would stand at the railings and stare into the horizon listening for that familiar noise that those large choppers used to make; you always heard them long before you saw them. The choppers I came into contact with in the Navy were a lot smaller and could only carry about six men with full packs at a time. My job in those days was the fireman who was always on deck in case the chopper crashed while taking off or landing, and go into the fire along with another man, who's job was to keep the fire away from me while I cut the pilot free from the cockpit and drag him out of the fire. This was not a bad job, but it used to get really hot inside those fire suits when the ship was in the hot climate of the Gulf, and we had to be suited up ready for at least five minutes before the chopper came in to land.
Well I mentioned earlier that sound was the more dominant sense for bringing back memories for me, and there I was ranting away about how the smell of chopper exhaust brought all that back to my mind. So going back on thread as it were, music is definitely the stronger one, especially songs from the late sixties and the early seventies as that was the time when I was in the Persian Gulf area with the Navy.
We used to pop in to Singapore and Hongkong between our stints of doing sea patrols in the Gulf. That was when we came into contact with the American troops who were using Hongkong as a place for their R&R from the war in Vietnam. We could pick them out straight away, as a lot of them used to buy and wear wigs as long hair was well in fashion at the time. Not only was the fact that they were there and changing the whole way of buying things, as they used to hand over what ever amount the local seller would ask, a far cry from the days when we used to barter so much that we even questioned the parentage of the seller. This was hard for us to take, as the Dollar was now the top currency pushing the pound down, and not only did it change the whole way of purchasing things and increasing the prices, but they also started taking over all the pubs and clubs that had been predominately British for so long in the past, and this lead to, well let's just say that Anglo-American relations were stretched to say the least. Of course it all came to a head one hot afternoon inside the China Fleet Club, another British icon that had been taken over by these Americans.
As the sound of 'Badge' being played by Eric Clapton with a group called Cream, was blaring out the sound system, we were engaging in fisty-cuffs with our cousins from across the pond. Well it had been building up for quite some time, especially when a few of them had suggested that we should have been out there with them in the war, and that we were cowardly in not doing so. The result of course meant, that afterwards neither Navy's shore patrol could stop the action, but the Hongkong police, who were well known for 'immobilising you' first, then asking questions later, came in and put an end to the proceedings. It took a visit to the police cells by the British commissioner's office to bail us out, and then we had to face the music, as the discipline was laid out to us when we got back on board our ship. Even though we were well outnumbered at the time, it was generally thought by all concerned, including those who were stuck on board and never took part, that we had held our ground. Other such songs used to be played all over Hongkong when we were ashore; the whole city seemed to be alive with music as we could hear different songs thumping out in the markets as we wondered around them. Of course, we all bought some kind of music player while we were there, I think at the time cassette players were the in thing, and you could hear all the different songs being played as you made your way through all the mess decks down below, after we had sailed from Hongkong . So now when I hear music from that era my thoughts go right back to those wonderful days. Music was our only entertainment in those days, before digital mp3 players and other such modern equipment, so we used to play a lot of it and very loudly.
