Pamir

[George Waite]

THE TOW
The morning is quite young, and the humid mists still cling to ships sides and jetty piles alike as the harbour tug takes up the strain, preparing to tow her charge out to the waiting ocean and the beginning of the long passage to Europe. This is a special tow, as the big white ship astern of the tug has no engine power to speak of, and is very difficult to manoeuvre in the close confines of the harbour, even for Captain Diebitsch her very experienced German master and his crew of cadets. On the tug, a young lad emerges from the galley carrying two cups of tea for the deck crew, breakfasting on the engine room skylight covers. As he walks aft toward the towing bridle the throb of a big coarse pitch screw biting deep in to the water beneath comes up through the deck plating. The 6 inch diameter towing hawser now begins to creak as the freshening breeze causes the tug to rise and veer with each passing wave. "Back in the shack lad, as soon as you like," the skipper calls from the wheelhouse, "if that hawser parts and lashes back it won't even notice you". Some hour or so later the tow clears the stone breakwater at Stockton point and picks up a strong breeze off the pacific causing the newly unfurled sails to billow like cumulus cloud on a spring day. As the sailing ship heels to wind and the rigging begins to hum and sing the tow is released and the tug skipper wishes his charge "bon voyage " The big steel Barque silently & rapidly overtakes the slowing tug which is now turning about for home, giving a view of the sailing ship's stern revealing the name "PAMIR" of "HAMBURG". A ship that was built as one of Blohm and Voss's finest efforts, and the pride of the "Flying P" line, now used as a training ship for a new, post-war generation of German Sea cadets.

No one watching that day could have been aware that this was to be one of this fine ship's last voyages. She was lost with all but six hands in a North Atlantic Hurricane a year later.

[Mike]

Bloody hell, George! I didn't know you had this kind of writing in you.

Very nice bit of penmanship, if I may say so? My guess is that you were the one being watched over by that tug skipper, eh?

Are you aware of the controversy over the cause of her sinking? From what I've read, it would seem that her skipper on the day you descibe was her skipper when she went down. And it is suggested that he was negligent in setting sail on the fated voyage in that the barley she carried was not properly stowed.

"In a tragically ironic twist of fate, the last voyage of the Pamir was the only one in her school ship career during which she made a profit, as the insurance sum of about 2.2 million Deutsche Mark was sufficient to cover the company losses for that year. While there was no indication that this was the intention of the consortium, which was never legally blamed for the sinking, it was considered much later by researchers that through its neglect it was at least strongly implicated in the loss."


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A very sad end to what was a most beautiful Windjammer.

[Clip]

Oh, now you've done it George!!!
A photo from my Dad's files-sorry for the scratches.
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I've been reading up on the Pamir in two of Villiers books recently. What an excellant piece, maybe you could do something with my Grandfathers diaries? They need perking up, but I'll include a segment that may describe the last moments of many a ship, Pamir included.

Saturday Feb 2nd Lat 48o 17` S Long 83o 51` W
At half past twelve this morning we were caught in a terrific hurricane. Never in all my life have I seen it blowing as hard. We were literally thrown on our beam ends, where we lay for at least 15 minutes!!! The whole of the lee side of the ship was invisible, and it was impossible to move about the ship at all, so great was the force of the gale. The whole ship was trembling, just like a scared animal. It could be felt right fore and aft.
We had our Fore Top Mast Staysail blown right out of the sheets and tack, and very luckily for us, our Fore and Main Lower Topsails held on. It was ‘touch and go’ for 15 minutes whether the ship capsized or righted, and we could do nothing but hold on for our dear lives, and wait to see what was going to happen. Eventually she paid off and ran before it for a few minutes, and we were able to breathe again.
Our cargo never shifted at all, which was very fortunate for us, as if it had, it would have been all UP with us, I can tell you.
You might think this very much exaggerated, and that we are a lot of cowards, but when a ship is on her beam ends, and won`t steer you are utterly helpless. It is no joke. The Captain says he has only once seen it blow harder, and then they had to run before it. It blew with almost as much force till 1:30 am and then it eased a bit, and by 4 am it was only a moderate gale and when the sun rose, it was a lovely fine morning with a steady gale.
We lay hove to all the day with a big cross sea running, and not much improvement at sunset with the exception of a little less wind.

[Mike]

Hi Clip

Great stuff, thank you. I have, of course, read that piece before. ;)

Below is a little touch-up job I have done on the great shot of a tug. Took me all of five minutes to do. I had some considerable experience doing that with a bunch of photos, similarly damaged over the years, of my father's time as a for'ard gunner (six pounders) on Royal Navy MGBs and MTBs during WWII.


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This is something you could pass some time doing while on the recuperation trail, Peter. Just a thought in trying to keep life interesting for you. It's great to see you well enough to be posting again here. We sure missed you while you were gone. :bighug:

Regards

[George Waite]

Mike
Thank you for the compliments re my scribblings, its an excerpt from an effort that I am putting together at the behest of one Fred Dibner and his friend Alan McEwan who is breathing down my neck every week to finish it! Thanks also for the info re the Pamir. I was not aware of the controversy but it had a lot of historical precedents. The Pamir had a good skipper and a poor first mate as it was his job to stow cargo. Oh yes I was that lad.

[George Waite]

Peter
I would not have the audacity to alter or modify your grandads writings as I read the fear in his heart at what he witnessed. This is a fear well known to most seamen, a fear that sometimes goes on for days, day and night as you try and do your job whilst you mutter under your breath "please come up you bastard" as the ship sinks in to yet another huge ocean swell. The tug in your photo is interesting as it looks like one of Cory towing's vessels out of Liverpool. (nice clean up Mike).

[Mike]

Thank you for the compliments re my scribblings, its an excerpt from an effort that I am putting together at the behest of one Fred Dibner and his friend Alan McEwan who is breathing down my neck every week to finish it!I do hope it's only Alan who is breathing down your neck, George, Fred Dibnah, bless him, having now moved on to that place in the sky where all great men go. :D


Thanks also for the info re the Pamir. I was not aware of the controversy but it had a lot of historical precedents. The Pamir had a good skipper and a poor first mate as it was his job to stow cargo. Oh yes I was that lad.Yeah, the skipper, though, always carries the can, eh? Same in aviation. It is not always possible to prevent a less than proficient F/O from letting the side down. You can read all about it on Wikipedia, George, if you're interested.

I thought you might have been that tea lad, mate, as the age seemed about right. The photo clean up could be even better if I had the time to do it more carefully than I did. The pics my father had were fabulous once cleaned up. I was fortunate enough to get them all printed and done for him before he passed on. he was over the moon with them. They seem to have been lost since his passing and, stupidly, I didn't keep a coy of them all other than on a hard drive which has since failed and lost all the data on it. Bugger! Some were great photos of the Fairmile boats at speed and in formation. Wonderful shots. I could even see my dad perched at his gun in the bow of one of 'em. What a nasty job that would have been when under fire.

Here's the only one I still have. It was far from the best photo he had but it is of MTB740, a Fairmile 'D' class 'Dogboat' and one of those my father actually crewed on. You can see how exposed the for'ard gun crew was when the pooh hit the fan, especially when running in to release the torpedoes.


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Regards

[George Waite]

Mike
I should have said the late Fred DibnaH (sorry about the R) its a west country habit as I am sure you know, it was also a good source of wind-up when dealing with the late mr D who opened our first conversation with " Who's that southern jessie thys got with thee Al? (Alan McEwan) This was a mistake. On the topic of Fairmiles a Torbay company used to operate two of them in Torquay, and I think one of them the "Western Lady" is still running. If you wanted to get a feel for the type of craft crewed by your dad. I used to work with a man who was a Mechanic/Machine gnner on a similar vessel at the same time period and he said that he had spent most of the war drunk in various jails hoping to miss the next sailing. Your dad did not lack courage.

[Mike]

Oh arrrh! I understand completely, George. :giggle: Fred was a star, in my book, and the world is something less in his passing.

Gee, I do wish I could get my hands on those photos again. Trouble is that it would no doubt cause (yet another) family spate, so I can't be bothered pressing the point. I might one day see if I can recover them from that hard drive. I know it can be done but it costs plenty to pay an expert to do it. I still have the drive, though, so you never know. Dad's photos were far better than any I've seen on the Web thus far and were pretty big too. I spent days touching up each one.

Here's a small one I still have of my father at that time. And another of yours truly back in the Sixties. The nose is there, don't you think?


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You're right; dad was a very gutsy bloke. He wouldn't talk much about his wartime experience. And I had never been shown those photos he had until about a year before he died of mesothelioma. He knew by then that he was headed for wherever we all end up and wanted to share 'em with me before the big day.

After his death, I discovered he had given explicit instructions to the doctors that he was not to be resuscitated in any circumstances. I think he'd had more than enough by then. I miss the guy, big time. Hope to join him on that cloud he's perched on one day.

Incidentally, I managed to find some more and better copies of those pics in a very old file on my external hard drive. Here they are.


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The boats are, from left to right - MTB740, MTB790, and MGB312, followed by some pics of Dad and crew aboard MTB740. There were many more and I will do my very best to find them.

[Clip]

Thanks Mike for the photo edit, I didn't have the patience.
George, in your piece you mentioned a 6inch hawser, and what would happen if it had broke. Way back when I was working on a drill rig in Saint John harbour (NB) for the new Hilton Hotel they ended up building there. I was standing in the stern of a tug maneuvering the drill barge into position. I had just bent over to pick up my clipboard. When a 6inch mooring rope from a nearby ship had caught up in the tugs searchlight, and then snapped, going over me at waist height. It caught the edge of my ear, and took off my hat as I had bent my head sideways upon hearing something. Hate thinking about what a mess it would have been if I were to be standing upright.

[Clip]

Mike those photos really do justice to the MTB, what a beautiful looking boat they were. I should ask the local RC Model Boat Club (made up of ex RCN types) that I see now and then, if anyone has done a model of one. It would be worth it.

The photo of the crew shows a pretty tight crew. Wonder if they kept in touch afterward?

[Mike]

Hi Peter

It was fun touching your pic up, mate. I will try to do a better job of it when I have some time to spare.

I agree they were pretty great looking things, those Fairmiles, though Dad said life aboard was fairly tough, with sparce comfort and pretty awful meals (often just porridge poured into a tray and left to set - cockroaches enjoyed it, apparently!).

The German E-boats, which Dad regarded as superior to the British boats (faster and diesel-engined rather than powered by aviation gasoline, for example), sortied out and then returned to base. The RN sent their MTB/MGBs to sea for days at a time on patrol. Apparently, some patrolled as far away as Norwegian and Mediterranean waters.

When the war in Europe ended, Dad was sent to crew an LST (landing ship, tank) in the Far East but the atomic bombs were dropped and ended the war against Japan before he actually saw action there.

He then returned to England and, like all his RN mates, was demobbed immediately. I guess he'd earned the King's sixpence and ought to have been happy with that but he was not much impressed by the way he was treated once the war was over.

The crews were very tight and Dad did keep in touch with some until he moved to Australia. He then lost contact but tried to keep in touch with one called 'Pat' who had lived near him as a lad in Wimbledon. Eventually, he lost touch and frequently asked people if they knew where he'd gone but no joy.

He told me a few stories about actions he'd been in and I have to say I'd rather it was him than me. Like I said, his post as for'ard gunner was very exposed and I imagine he was terrified at times. Some of the lads in the photos above were KIA, and many, including my father, were just lads of only 18 years of age.

[George Waite]

peter
Someone was watching over you mate!