HMS Mounts Bay - October 20, 1956 to December 18, 1957

I actually joined the Mounts Bay at HMS Pembroke (the Naval barracks in Chatham) on September 4, 1956 and was there, in barracks, until October 19, 1956. We all moved aboard on October 20. After a work-up session, where everybody gets used to what they're supposed to be doing on board, we headed down on our trip to South Africa with many interesting stops along the way.



Class and type:	Bay-class frigate
Displacement:	1,600 long tons (1,626 t) standard 2,530 long tons (2,571 t) full
Length:	286 ft (87 m) p/p 307 ft 3 in (93.65 m) o/a
Beam:	38 ft 6 in (11.73 m)
Draught:	12 ft 9 in (3.89 m)
Propulsion:	2 × Admiralty 3-drum boilers, 2 shafts, 4-cylinder vertical triple expansion reciprocating engines, 5,500 ihp (4,100 kW)
Speed:	19.5 knots (36.1 km/h; 22.4 mph)
Range:	724 tons oil fuel, 9,500 nmi (17,600 km) at 12 knots (22 km/h)
Complement:	157
Sensors and processing systems:	• Type 285 fire control radar • Type 291 air warning radar • Type 276 target indication radar • High Frequency Direction Finder (HF/DF) • IFF transponder
Armament:	• 4 × QF 4 inch Mark XVI guns on 2 twin mounting HA/LA Mk.XIX • 4 × 40 mm Bofors A/A on 2 twin mounts Mk.V • 1 × Hedgehog 24 barrel A/S projector • 2 rails and 4 throwers for 50 depth charges

The first stop was an old familiar friend, Gib. I think that everybody was looking forward to going there. We were there for about a week, and then set off down the west coast of Africa. Actually, there was so many stops before we got to South Africa, I really can't remember visiting lots of them, they were that small. Basically, we were just flying the flag for Her Majesty - ambassadors on the Grey Funnel Line.

One place we stopped at that I remember was Freetown in Sierra Leone. That's where a they had a war about blood diamonds many years later... I was hoping to get ashore there because there was a guy from my home town living there. But due to the fact that I was under stoppage of leave, I was unable to get to see him. Then there was Conakri which I believe was a French Protectorate. We had native dancers put on a show for us on the jetty - and it was quite impressive feeling their feet thumping into the ground (even though we were on board). Our next stop was Accra - which used to be the Gold Coast and they were in the midst of gaining independence from Britain and becoming Ghana. We had a street parade, which I LOATHED. You had to dress up in your white suits and march through the streets - complete with rifles and boots. After Accra came Warri in Nigeria. Now to get to Warri, we had to go up the Forcados River and the Warri River - backwards. It was one of those little British outposts to do with oil, I do believe. There was a country club ashore where large quantities of libations were drunk during our 5 day stay. Seeing as there were no jetties to tie up to, we were tied up to two trees - fore and aft. It was most enjoyable stay - there was not a lot to do ashore, other than go to the country club. You couldn't BUY a drink, they just kept pouring them. Of course, there was the obligatory ship's soccer game against the local side (who I think were all black). The natives nicknamed me "Long Tom", I guess because I was tall and could run fast. Our goalkeeper, a short and rather thick-set gentleman, who was a friend of mine - Knocker Quint - played an absolute corker of a game, really impressing the other side (and us too) with his goal-keeping prowess - seeing as he wasn't the regular ship's goalkeeper (the regular player being on watch).

Also in Warri I perforated my ear drum. There was a banyan (or picnic) organized at one of the local watering holes, sans crocodiles. Complete with beer, off we went. Not being equipped with any refrigeration for keeping the beer cold, we dumped it in the river. We were having a good time larking about in this beautiful clear water. There was only a couple of beers left and I went to pick one up and it started rolling down the bank into deeper water. I swam down after it and just as I was about to grab the bottle, it felt like my ear exploded. There was considerable pain. I made it back to the surface, but I wasn't exactly sure where I was or what was happening. Eventually, the pain and discomfort went away. On the completion of the banyan and going back on board, I went to see the M.O. who told me I'd perforated my eardrum. He told me there was not a lot I could do about it, and that it would heal on its own. He added that if I had any thoughts about being a shallow water diver, I should forget about them. Ah well - didn't want to do that anyway...

We left Warri on the 13th of March, and after nine days at sea, got to Simonstown, South Africa on March 22nd. It is 22 miles west of Capetown. This was the Naval dockyard for the South Atlantic Fleet (which doesn't exist anymore).

Whilst in dry dock it was tradition to paint your ship's crest on the dock wall. I do believe there's probably crests from when this photo was taken (1957) - when we were there we saw crests from ships that were stationed there during World War II.

Once we arrived we were looking forward to our first run ashore in Capetown. To get there, it was a train trip, and if you took the commuter special at about 4:30 for the 22 mile journey, there were 27 stops along the way. So we used to get to Capetown about 6 o'clock. Once we got there, first thing is to find somewhere to drink. Most Matelots gravitated toward the Delmonico which was one of the largest drinking establishments in downtown Capetown. It was almost Spanish/Moorish decor, as far as I can remember. If you weren't drinking beer, the favorite drink was brandy and coke - as brandy was very cheap - and you could get absolutely hammered if you so desired. But the hangover was something else again, so I stayed with beer. While at "the Del", there always seemed to be lots of "ladies" around looking for a good time with all these sailors who thought they were God's gift to women. We weren't the only sailors in there; there were lots of guys from the merchant navy as well. All in all it was quite a popular watering hole. To coin a phrase; if you got lucky with one of the ladies, you had to make sure that she wasn't a Cape Coloured. Because if you got caught in a compromising situation, it was jail time. These ladies were supposed to carry a card identifying them as "coloured". It was difficult to tell because a lot of them were "three of cream and one of coffee". One of the ways you could tell, if they didn't have the card, was the half-moons on the fingernails. But seeing that most of them wore nail polish, that could be difficult. Also, the local white population would warn you off, and the police knew most of the girls who went in there.

Just to illustrate how serious this situation could be. Three guys off the Burghead Bay got caught dipping their wicks in Silver City, a shanty town outside of Simonstown, and got nine months jail time in South Africa. But with a lot of political wrangling the British government persuaded the South Africans to let them serve their sentence at home, and they were deported. Which, of course, would end up being nowhere near nine months. Doing what they were doing would be considered a "social exercise" and not a crime in the UK.

Also, while in Capetown, one must remember it wasn't all wine, women and song. There were other things to see and do. Like taking the cable car up to the top of Table Mountain; buying "rabbits" (presents), and working on your suntan.

After a night out in Capetown, if you hadn't booked a room at the Sailors Rest, the last train left for Simonstown at about 12 midnight as I remember. The first train in the morning was 5:30. The police did not like you sleeping at the station, so finding somewhere to crash was of the essence.

Along with going to parties, there always invites to BBQs, mainly held by the Boers, and such. I even went to one at the Paarl River valley - a wine making district of South Africa. Very nice it was, too. One overseer there even carried his jambok (a short whip used to keep the kafirs - or natives - in line, as he said). At one party I attended, there was a gentleman who asked me if I would be interested in joining the Capetown police force. He knew I was in the RN even though I was in civvies, but I declined his most generous offer...He was even wearing his gun!

We had on board a lieutenant from the Fleet Air Arm, who was on the Mounts Bay for rest and recreation. Because a couple of months prior, he was flying off an aircraft carrier when the arrestor wire malfunctioned and he just kept on going right off the bow. The carrier was unable to stop, as it was doing about 35 knots and plowed right over top of him. He told us that the speed of the carrier kept him sucked up underneath it. His biggest concern was that he'd get caught up in the propellers, and he could feel them vibrating and getting closer all the time. I guess it wasn't his time, because he came to the surface at the stern - much to his great relief. So they took him off flying duties for awhile and sent him to a General Service Commission ship, which was us. Nice man. Easy to talk to. Always seemed ready to go back to flying again though. But he was young and daft, so I guess it didn't matter.

Next on the agenda will be our west coast cruise. First port o' call was Tulear on Madagascar. I don't remember too much about it, as I think we were kept well away from all the fleshpots. I think we played a soccer game against coloured French Foreign Legion, but I wasn't a member of the team. Then it's over to Quelimane at Mozambique. Not much happened there either, but there was a dance set up - which I didn't attend - but from all accounts it was very strange because there was no music, no girls and no beer! I think it was a bit of a SNAFU situation. Then we back down the coast to Durban. Greeted by the Lady in White. As the story goes, she lost her husband in World War II and for whatever reason sings to all Navy ships as they come into the harbour. I think she would be considered a little eccentric. Durban was a good run ashore. There were lots of grippos (freebees) in the area. Myself and a few other guys took a trip to a game preserve called Hluhluwe (hu-loo-ee). We spent a couple of nights in accommodation provided by the local game warden. They gave us lots of booze, and I couldn't find my way back to where I was supposed to sleep, so I crashed on the floor of the living room in the warden's house - which was very kind of them. Also, while we were in this area, we took a trip to the Valley of a Thousand Hills, where a lot of Zulu people lived. It was very picturesque.

After our sojourn it's back to Durban and the fleshpots for 7 days. Then we returned to Simonstown to fuel up and get stores on board for our trip to South America. We left South Africa in the middle of August '57 with a proposed stop at Tristan de Cunha, but it was too rough to go ashore. On we sailed and it was "Harry Roughers" all the way across the bottom of the Atlantic. 16 days in total of extremely crappy weather! Nobody was allowed on the upper deck except on the Quarterdeck. The daily routine was: get up in the morning; clean up any mess that had occurred in the night, like lockers falling over and water leaking in. Then finish for the day. And that was it. The older hands used to look forward to "tot time". Meals were fairly simple affairs because the chef found things miserable in the galley. So I think we must have lived on stews and hard tack (ship's biscuits). It may have been a little better than that, but I don't remember. I was sick for the first two days and after that it was...just get on with it, you know.

Eventually, we ended up in Argentina at a little naval base called Puerto Belgrano with a small town called Bahai Blanca just up the road, where all these thirsty Matelots headed straight for, along with the crews from the Warrrior and the Lynx. From what I gather (I did not attend) a serious Barney ensued and several bodies ended up spending the night in the slammer. When the dust had settled, and apologies were made all 'round, the Captain cleared lower deck and gave everybody a little pep talk. Basically, it was how disappointed he was in the crew and he hoped that this kind of behavior wouldn't happen again.

Now we're off to our next stop, Buenos Aires, which wasn't a bad run ashore; good place for "rabbits" (gifts for people back home). One thing they told us time and time again is not to get into any discussions about the Falkland Islands. The money was a bit of a problem, as I discovered to my cost. Some of the lower denomination notes were the same colour as the higher ones. So after a meal, I tipped the waiter and it wasn't until it was my turn to buy a round of drinks at one of the nearby watering holes, I realized I must have tipped the waiter a high denomination note, which probably would have been more than his weekly wage. So I was out-of-pocket a little bit. We went back to the restaurant and of course the waiter denied everything. Hard lesson to learn when you're not making that much money to begin with. The rest of our stay in Buenos Aires was uneventful - mainly because I didn't have any money left to spend.

Then it was onwards to Fray Bentos in Uruguay, where they make corned beef. It was a little tiny place, and where they made the Fray Bentos itself was a big tower and the cows would go in and come out as cans. There was a local brewery there, run by a couple of Brits - don't ask me how they got there - who were just ready to put a new beer on the market and who better to test it on than a shipload of Matelots. So this guy brings a truck down to the ship and the Jimmy says "No way. You can take it away. The crew here are not having any of that!" (miserable bastard). So the truck turned around and went back to the brewery. In the end we had to pay for it and drank it ashore in the local boozers. There was the obligatory soccer game, which I managed to play in. If memory serves, it was the only the second time I did play for the Mounts Bay. Too bad for the ship they didn't recognize my talent!

Now we're off to Rio. De Janeiro, that is. Now THAT was a good run ashore! Lots of places where you wouldn't want to take your mother. One bar in particular, close to the docks, sticks in my mind. It was open 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. And what they used to do about 2 in the morning, was close up one side of the bar, clean it all up, and then close the other side and reopen the first side. Quite efficient about it, they were too. One night when I was in there with a couple of my mates, a lady of the night came in, flogging her wares, and she happened to pick on some guy who wasn't the slightest bit interested as he was three sheets to the wind. So she started berating him and giving him a real bad time, which we thought was extremely entertaining. Shortly after, the police arrived, and were going to take her away for disturbing the peace, I guess. So some hero - not one of us - gets up and makes a big fuss with the police, telling them with much arm waving that they shouldn't be treating this "lady" like this. Then, without further ado, one of the policemen stuck a rather large pistol in our hero's face and took him away as well! After this display of chivalry, we carried on with our drinking. Also, during our four days in Rio, there were opportunities for sightseeing. One day, a few of my mates and I took a trip up one of the nearby mountains to see the big statue of Christ the Redeemer which overlooks Rio. Very impressive! I don't remember anybody being too enthusiastic about going to Copacabana Beach because we had to go ashore in our uniforms and it would have been difficult to abandon them on the beach and go swimming.

Then it was time to go back to South Africa, and it was a smoother trip. On the way back we did a little detour to St Helena, where Napoleon Bonaparte died. Two days there, and I had the opportunity to visit the house he lived in, and saw his grave. It doesn't hurt to be a little bit of a culture-vulture occasionally. I read all about him and one of the theories was that he was poisoned, but nobody did an autopsy. A pleasant little place - with two pubs and a golf course and lots of ex-Pats.

Next, back to Simonstown and we're nearly at the end of our commission, but the Admiralty had one more thing to throw at us - it was that the Opossum would come from the Far East and her crew would take the Mounts Bay back to the Far East, and we would sail the Opossum home. It was to be scrapped when we got it back to Devonport.

So we sailed up the west coast of Africa, totally uneventfully - likely stopped at Gib for fuel and returned to Devonport. And that was that.

One last story: While on the Mounts Bay, I was part of the Ordinance Party along with a CPO and PO and we used to look after the guns (for those who don't know). The Chief - whose name was Dalgliesh - became a Japanese prisoner of war when his ship, HMS Prince of Wales, was sunk. He was held for five years. After his release he returned to the UK and was married to the lady he'd left five years earlier. One of the things he wouldn't do on the Mounts Bay was eat rice. He said he couldn't face it. A nice man who unfortunately was killed in a car crash sometime after he left the Mounts Bay. A touch of irony - survive the prison camp, only to be killed at home.