Day 123 - I have fixed the blog as sometimes it is not visible!

I apologize - sometimes this blog is or has been blanked out in white.  I have fixed it now - there seems to a bug in the system!

For anybody new,  Day 1 - Day 123 are blogs of my Dad's memoir.  Day 1 is the beginning of his story.  The blog is mostly about his experiences in the Second World War as a Belgian political prisoner in France, Auschwitz and Buchenwald concentration camps.  

Day 122- Finally settling down!

"My fiancee and soul mate now asked me to come and get married in England.  I was 25 years old!  On an earlier occasion,  with a ring I had purchased in Antwerp with my first month's wages, I had made a quick dash to England with an engagement ring - I was 25 years old! 


For our wedding day in England, the hall was booked, the guests invited and the cake brought over from South Africa - things still being short in England!


At the time, Belgium being slow with permissions due to Napoleonic Laws we had to post a notice in the town hall in Ostend, Belgium.  We also had to obtain special permission to get married.


In addition, we went to Church House, Borough of Westminster, London, England, where I swore on the bible and became an accepted Anglican.


My career in the Navy was over and I could now look forward to a shore life with all the responsibilities of a large family.  I ended up with four lovely girls and a boy.............................


Will be continuing this blog with my Dad's manuscript about our his adventures in South Africa and Zimbabwe (formerly Rhodesia)!

Day 121 - Casablanca and American ciggaretes!

"When we arrived in Casablanca there seemed to be a curfew going on and some trouble.  I had not time to wait for the Pursor to get an advance on my salary. So, I borrowed loose change from my dear friends and also tucked a couple of  packages of American cigarettes under the collar of a raincoat which I then put over my arm.   At that time, American cigarettes were still the best collateral!

Morroco was a protectorate of France and the cigarettes and raincoat as well as my Belgian passport worked well!   Anyway,  I made for Irene's address - not before getting some flowers, which to my surprise had used up all my change when I asked the price, so I threw the bunch back to the Arab vendors and made a run for it taking no notice of the screaming sellers.

Arriving at the house, I was told that Irene was at the cinema, so I bought my way into the show using a pack of cigarettes and with the aid of an usher found her.  Her welcome was warm and hospitable and I told her I was engaged.  She said that I should name my first daughter Irene - my second daughter was eventually so called!  I cannot remember the names of her children!.

The last thing I remember looking at, before leaving Casablanca, was the Casbah.  Lots of men were walking around there hand in hand, which Irene said was quite usual.  She also warned me to watch out for sexually transmitted diseases. 

Soon after we left  we heard that the Atlantic plateau between Safi and Agadir had moved upwards and had caused an earthquake that killed at least two thousand people.  It was a good thing we were away from there at that moment!  After that I never heard from my family in Morroco again.

On our return trip, Roger and I made it back to Ostend.  We later got taken on for the cargo boats by; Maritime Belge in Antwerp.  They respectively sent us off to Angola and the Congo.  I was assigned to Lobito and Roger to Matadi in the Congo stream - a climate Roger could not tolerate.

After that trip, he got married and forever stayed ashore.  For me, it was only the start, the sea was good to me, good money, a home and an appetite like a horse".

To be continued ...

Day 120 - Ports of call Lisbon and Casablanca!

"The ship was waiting and we sprang aboard ready to sail.  Later, my cousin Irene had undertaken the 200 km. trip to meet me.  Unfortunately, she didn't reach Safi before we sailed again and were gone with wind!  The "Gella" now took us north.  On the next voyage we were scheduled to stop in Casablanca so I wrote to my cousin Irene and told her the news. 

We arrived back safely in Ghent with the boat was on a bit of a tipping angle as the load had moved to one side on the high seas.  We had a bit of mutiny going on - the daily meal was always mutton and nothing but mutton every day!  So, we circled around from the kitchen, in indian file, and went bleating to the Captain until we got his promise of a change in our diet.  We went out in Ghent and had a very good time and then went home.

Before our return trip we tried out the lifeboats  - that was a bit of a trial.  Some were leaking, others were lacking plugs and some of the pumps were not working.  In the Gulf of Biscay we floated around without power until John took action.  He had to swim down and under in the engine room to open valves and release the water that had come in to the boat.  He had to keep releasing water until everything was working properly again.

On the next voyage we first went to Lisbon - we had a better time than on our previous time and this time visited the fairgrounds and The Alexander Bar.  Our biggest difficulty proved to be finding our way around town.  The Portuguese woman were very inhibited but we got to the bar eventually and had a good time.  Lisbon looked pretty new and different to us - they now had a lift tram climbing up the side of the cliffs.

Alongside the big seafarers statue we boarded the old "Gella"and again sailed the north coast making for Casablanca but this time we left early in the morning!

To be continued ...

Day 119 - Enchanting Beauty in Africa!

"Even Hano the Carthagenian is supposed to have reconnoited these parts.  That was before the destruction of Carthage by the Romans who sailed as far as the Runeni River near South Africa.

They kept their routes secret until some survivors from the catalyst used them to escape.  They were under orders from an Admiral called, Harrakuk.  After this incident, the maps vanished from the old world view completely and were forgotten for the time being!

With these thoughts I fell happily into a satisfied sleep, with the certainty that the next morning I would find the first opportunity to jump ashore and explore the surrounding area - which I did with my mates.

Phosphate was blown into the holds and we would depart from Safi quicker than we envisaged.  We quickly explored the hills of the Atlas -  ending at the location we were at with the Sahara desert behind it.

We had our first glimpse of one camel with a hump, we had a bet on and wanted to prove, using a photo, how many humps it had.  The picture on the back of  a packet of camel cigarretes hadn't been very convincing for some! 

We actually found two camels with their drivers ready to enter the interior over the hills, to join a caravan.  The fellows posed for us and we placed the biggest disbeliever in the middle - in front of the camel.  When the picture was developed the Dane blended in with the hump and we couldn't see it!

After returning to the ship and letting my cousin Irene in Casablanca know I was in Safi, I came across a Morrocan veiled girl in a Chemist shop, she was  guarded by two armed guards and a chaperone.

Whilst the guards were outside, I tried on some sunglasses.  Looking in the mirror, the girl now dropped her veil - the beauty of this girl was enchanting and also forbidden.  We later heard that two other members of our crew had experienced an unpleasant encounter at a mosque when they had tried to enter.

We rushed back to the ship not giving it any more thought and we took a last photo of a Moslem cemetary amongst the roundish gravestones, some were just headstones.  I got stung by one of the cactus plants along the borders and this was painful, just like a bee sting.

To be continued ...

Day 118 - Africa for the first time!

"We had to walk a long way along the promenade in order to find a bar to help us forget our grief.    We met up with some other Swedish shipmates and with them they had their top prize, a tall Swedish counterpart, a female, "Sparks".  In no time at all, after a few drinks, the fighting started -  so I made off with my mates as it was not our business.

The trip now proceeding close to the Portugese coast gave us a lovely view of the mountains and the water became clearer too, almost transparent so that we were able to see the propellors.
Shoals of dolphins were capering along with us and as we turned the point, near the Gulf of Cadiz, great butterflies came visiting us on board. 

In this manner, we crossed to Morocco, taking a big longtitudenal sweep and a day later, by eventide, pointing the stern straight towards Safi we sailed ahead - this was an unforgettable view.  The ancient fortifications, minarets from the Mosques in the distance, all whitewashed and clearly silhouetted against the dark azure blue sky, with the purpleness of the distant mountains in the last feeble reflections of a sinking sun beyond the horizon.

We had done this trip a thousand years ago, surely it was familiar, and we could hear the deep singing and accompaniment of the Viking band from down below.  I wouldn't have missed these moments for anything in the world as I was a bit of an artist in my school days.  I could have painted on the canvas forever and ever............

I kept on enjoying it until darkness overcame this lovely setting.  For the first time, we entered the harbour for a good night's rest. Now under the dome of the African cloudless sky - getting a better view of the multitude of stars, listening to the melancholy sound of the Berber music and the singing in Arabic from the distance quarter of this ancient town. 

In a bygone age, Safi, had been used as a Moorish recruiting centre for the invasion of Southern Spain - the pirates of the Barbary coast also having had their heyday in this era".

To be continued

Day 117- Edward and an unsung hero!

"I was now seeing Cherbourg from a totally different viewpoint than during the war, the place of memories for me and events contributing to the landings later on.

John and the first engineer went ashore with a pilot boat to get some spare parts.  The damage was fixed in no time and we could proceed towards the Gulf of Biscay, having narrowly missed one of the worst hurricanes since 1927.

I dried my washing in the middle of  The Gulf  thinking of one of my uncles who had lost his life in this approximate area -  that was during the war of  1914 - 1918. 

The troop transport they had been travelling aboard had been torpedoed on its way to South West Africa. My uncle had knocked his head when one of the life boats had snapped - he lost consciousness before hitting the water. Somebody had helped keep him afloat for a while but to no avail.

I was a child when I heard this story in the old Cafe on the Sas and my grandmother cried.  Young Edward had been the only one in the family who couldn't swim and my grandmother said, "maybe he could have been saved if he had been able to swim"!

Young Edward was a very good singer and the darling of the girls at the time.  My grandmother gave me his banjo.  However, I never made good use of it - somehow, it was all Edwards and I could never take a note on it but I loved it when my Dad did.

From Cape Finisterreto Cape Hatteras on the Spanish coast of Galecia the Celtic part we sailed along noticing the fishing fleet had all their flags at half mast.  So many boats had been suddenly overwhelmed during the storm and had not been able to save themselves.

We entered Oporto to dock at Leixius where we noticed a general strike was going on, it was still the time of  The Dictator.   The next day, we were talking to the secret police who had come aboard our vessel.  Suddenly, the army appeared in vans and took the strikers away with them.

We asked one of  the secret police what would happen to the strikers, he answered, "they go on the next boat to Mozambique"! 
Old ways die hard, here they were still very much alive.

To be continued ...