John Usher

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The memories I have of my time at the Prince of Wales are surprisingly numerous for such a short time:

• Having all our hair cut off, a major tragedy in the sixties.
• Leaning to play the Bosun’s pipe and going to Ramsgate to pipe some dignitary aboard at an official reception.
• Smoking in the parade ground at the top.
• Walking the dog up by the Borstal – can’t remember it’s name.
• Polishing the corridors, a wonderful smell.
• Sandie Shaw and Petular Clark posters on my bunk.
• Cups of tea on the path by the kitchens, a lad from the Channel Islands doing his party piece of eating earth worms.
• Scrubbing the front steps and polishing the brass.
• Visiting Ray Warner on Townwall Street to have our photos taken for the discharge books.
• Catching the bus home to Folkestone in full uniform on a Saturday afternoon.
• Church parade at the parish church.
• Learning to dobby our whites and ironing our serge trousers (was it seven creases or five?).
• Rowing in the inner harbour.
• Visiting the Submarine Pens at the Eastern Docks.
• Going aboard a whaler that was in port on it’s way to the south Atlantic. It had live pigs and chicken on the after deck.

My career at sea did not last long, a couple of deep sea trips to Australia and NZ on the Port Quebec and the Port Albany’s maiden voyage, a spell in between on home trade for Port Line taking ships from Liverpool around the continental ports and back into London.

I had only just scraped into PWSTS on the eyesight requirements, I could read all the letters and pass all the tests first thing in the morning but as my eyes grew tired my vision deteriorated. I used to secrete myself in a classroom in the evenings and swot up on what I couldn’t read during classes.

When I got to sea the challenges increased, on one notable occasion on a short trip aboard the SS Dorset with the New Zealand Shipping Company we were leaving King George IV dock late one night when I was called to the bridge and asked to note down the telegraph orders. I explained that I would need my glasses, the Captain who obviously had a strong aversion to spectacles threw me off his bridge. On arrival at Liverpool and signing off, my discharge book was on it’s own at a separate table. More eyesight tests, luckily early in the morning, and a return to Port Line.

Practicing for my steering ticket was a traumatic experience, the giro was an orange mist and the click, click getting faster as I over corrected blindly. I left the bridge in cold sweat and saw the wake was a very wide phosphorescent serpent.

These events rather damaged my self confidence, I didn’t handle the ‘Board of Trade’ acquaintances too well and missed home and my mates so decided to try my luck ashore. I drifted from job to job for a while including a couple of spells on the cross channel ferries, owned at that time by British Railways, I served one winter on the Shepperton the ancient train ferry to Dunkirk. I think of her when I see the Eurostar speed past!

I then met my wife Janette who brought some focus in to my life, this I have retained through thirty five years of a very happy marriage. Shortly after we were married we moved to Sussex, I took a temporary job with a chicken processor which lasted twenty four years and saw me rise from factory hand to Production Director. I left the company following a take-over and have since held similar positions with a number of companies in the food industry, at present I am working with a fruit and vegetable importer in Paddock Wood.

I have enjoyed a very satisfying career ashore but feel with better eyesight I could have realised my original ambition of working my way up through the ranks to captain and being a skipper of a ship rather than a factory.

We have two wonderful children, Matthew and Naomi and are looking forward to grandchildren.

I definitely benefited from my training at PWSTS and my short career at sea, I learnt a lot about myself and mankind in general.