What my two new friends proposed was a night out on the town. The suggestion doesn't seem that newsworthy now, but having come straight from boarding school, it seemed a novel and slightly daring idea at the time. My memories now were the incredible care they took with their hair (Brylcream was the rage then) and their easy familiarity with the girl behind the bar - "That'll be 3 more pints, please, luv."
Soon enough we were at sea, leaving the rain and Toxteth (famous for riots around 20 years later) in favour of the Irish Sea. Our cabin was now full as we'd been joined by an engineering cadet. I had my first inkling as to on board hierarchies (or should that be prejudices?). My two mates from the pub - remember they were deck (i.e. navigation) cadets - looked down on this poor lad; it seemed throughout the ship that deck officers (in their own opinion at least) were superior to engineers, on the grounds, I believe, that the latter were a recent development, coming in only after the days of sail.
One of my jobs was to organise the passengers' 'sports'. Although primarily a cargo vessel, we had about 60 cabins, and were carrying a miscellaneous bunch, chiefly colonial servants and their families returning to work in West Africa, plus oilmen and a few wealthier Africans. I particularly remember Senator Asemoto, from recently independent Nigeria, who entered the deck quoits and seemed to be allowed to win on account of his age and stature. The other sports were the somewhat more active deck tennis and ping-pong. While safely tied up at the dockside, most passengers signed up for all three, and I spent my first hours in the office happily making various draws, including match times, etc.
Unfortunately all my plans came to naught: even in ordinary conditions the Irish Sea can be fairly rough, and table tennis, even with the table bolted to the deck, became quite challenging; but worse than this the passengers almost all failed to keep to my meticulous time-table. I would go along to Mrs Robinson in Cabin E4, knock on the door and shout out that she was supposed to be on the promenade deck for her match: "Go away!" she would groan, "I'm sea-sick!"
My main task though was to assist the Chief Officer, who was in charge of all cargo activities. Prior to arrival at Freetown (it got better once in port), this proved somewhat tedious work, involving drawing up stowage plans, getting books ready for the tally-clerks to use at discharge, etc. Soon I was in trouble: the 2nd and 3rd Officers were keen on bridge and asked me to make up a regular four (I forget who the other was). The only time neither officer was on watch was 12 - 4pm, but that was exactly when I was supposed to be working. Of course, finding my work particularly boring at the time, I weakly agreed; inevitably I was found out and given a severe reprimand by the Purser.
Apart from that, the sun was out by this time, and life was slipping into a pleasant enough routine: I was regularly thrashed at deck golf by my cabin-mates, but enjoying the pool which we shared with the passengers and helping to arrange film evenings, etc.
Finally from the mast-head came the familiar call: "Land Ho!" At last my first sight of Africa.....
