Smudger Snippets
Created | Updated Nov 12, 2003
I suppose it's because I have so much time on my hands these days, that all these memories come flooding back to me.
Brief Encounter
It was when our ship was in for refit, on a bitter cold winter in 1970, that I had the scare of my life. The ship was in dry dock, there were only 10 of us on board - a fire-watching party. It was cold, bitterly cold, especially below decks, as the metal ship casing acted like a fridge storing the cold. It was dark and damp; we all huddled into the sparkies mess as it was the smallest space and we could generate body heat while being huddled together. We all looked like Eskimos with our long coats, gloves and balaclavas. It was going to be a long cold weekend for us, and the conditions made it seem even longer.
We had managed to rig up an extension cable from a power point on the jetty, so now we had power to at least have the luxury of a movie to watch. It was my turn to do the rounds of the ship and I was rather annoyed about it as it meant me missing the end of the movie. We had all just finished our so-called meal, which was sent down to us every evening in a special container that was supposed to keep the food hot! Remember that this was 1970 and technology was not all that hot - same as our food. Anyway I asked everyone if they were finished so I could ditch the leftovers in the shoreside skip. This we did after every meal, as the last thing we wanted was even more rats sharing our company. The ship was in a mess with cables and trunking hanging all over from the deck heads1; there was dust and debris everywhere, and the lack of lighting made it even more dangerous to walk around.
I had just returned from the jetty and as I came across the gangway, looking down into the dark depths of the dry dock, I could hear the trickle of water that always seeps through the massive dry dock gates. It sounded eerie as it echoed in the vast space of the dry dock. I decided to start my rounds from up forward and work my way back below decks, as the gangway was nearest to the bow. I climbed down the forward hatch into the dark and dusty below. I can remember taking in my last breath of the fresh, cold air before going down into the stench of the foul air below. I unclipped the two levers holding shut the bulkhead2 door to the forward magazine compartment and stepped over the doorway to enter. I shone my torch round the area, but could not see much for the dusty haze and my cold breath as it left me. All around there were hanging cables and ducting causing eerie shapes in the shadows.
Then, as the light from my torch swung round, it picked up the shape of a figure, just standing there motionless. Thinking it was one of my mates pulling a practical joke, I stepped right into the compartment and started to walk towards them in order to find out which one it was. It was just as I was close enough to make out detail that I noticed he had on full blue uniform, but it was different to ours, more old-fashioned. Then, as the light from my torch shone into his face, I could see right away that his hat was black and only had the word HMS written on it in gold braid. This told me straight away that what I was looking at was a uniform worn in WWII. That explained the difference in style - and the hat being black, I knew, was WWII issue.
My mind ran through many possible explanations, like a modern day computer program, but none could explain exactly what I was looking at. So with this in my terrified mind, I did a complete U turn and ran backwards towards the open swinging door, falling over all the debris as I did so. It was with very shaky hands that I started to close the clips of that door, in fact I closed all eight of them, tightly. Still shaking, I bent down to pick up the torch that I had dropped in my haste to close the door and, in so doing, banged my head on a piece of hanging ducting. This bump to my head slowed me down somewhat, and indeed seem to make my getaway even slower than it appeared.
As I made my way back to the mess, I could hear the comforting tones of the rest of the watch laughing as they watched the film; this was a pleasure to hear above the deafening silence of the rest of the ship. I pulled back our makeshift curtain with such speed that I tore it from the hanging rail, this caused my mates to turn and look at me. I could not even speak to them, but instead did a quick count to see if they were all, indeed, there. It was then that they knew something was wrong and they all started asking me questions at the same time. After a short time and a cigarette to calm me down, I told them what I saw and asked if any one had left the mess in the past half hour. They all loooked around at each other knowing, within themselves, that no one had left the mess since I had left with the garbage.
No-one laughed at me, which was my main fear at the time, but then again not one person on our watch ever went back into that forward magazine room again to check for fire during the rest of the refit.
