Twenty Years Before the Antenna Mast

Trip: Thirty Five and Thirty Six

Call Sign:

Company: CP

Specs: 21893 GRT 131090 BHP

Rank: R/E/O

Joined: Singapore 3/9/81

Resigned Articles: Durban 19/10/81

Departed: Inchon South Korea 2/2/82

This trip demonstrated the various climate conditions a seaman has to face. Singapore, where I joined is warm and humid all the year around and with relatively calm seas. Working on jobs anywhere around the ship required the minimum of clothing. Even the voyage down to Durban was reasonable. When there, I was invited by a couple Alastair (ZS5MU) and Davina (ZS5GC) who were Radio Amateurs to visit their sugar plantation just South of Durban. They picked me up from the ship and it was an hours drive into the interior to their farm. It was a highly interesting visit, where I could hear the local dialect being spoken by Alastair. Lots of clicks and glottal stops! The monsoons in the Indian Ocean kick up a swell, but are not really cold. Durban in October has spring weather and is reasonably pleasant. Then over to the other extreme of Korea, Japan and China - very cold during their winter with sometimes bitterly cold winds, rough seas and heavy snow. It's virtually impossible to have too many clothes. Some heavy weather gear is carried on the ship, but it is up to the individual to have enough warm sweaters socks and shoes. Its no wonder the average seaman has around 30 to 40 kilos of luggage.

I Met Phil ZS5RJ again in Durban while we bunkered. We bunkered again at Los Angeles for the trip across the Pacific to South Korea. On the way across the Pacific, I experienced a rather strange occurrence. I used to receive radio propagation bulletins from the UK long-range station at Portishead. Sometimes, the US Coastguard stations would also issue propagation warnings if a severe solar disturbance had been sighted or was expected. In this case, a severe solar flare had been observed, and a so-called "Dillenger Fade" had been forecast. This is where the ionosphere becomes so heavily ionized by particles from the sun, that it absorbs all signals instead of reflecting them. The result is a radio "blackout" lasting from minutes to hours over the sunlit half of the globe. I had received the warning earlier, and was doing the perennial job of correcting the admiralty lists of radio signals. The receivers were on, one tuned to 500KHz, the other to the US Coastguard station at San Francisco NMC on 16 MHz, sending out its call tape. Suddenly I noticed that the frequency seemed to shift, the note changed and I had to re-tune the receiver. The frequency shifted higher by about 500 Hz and the signal rapidly got weaker. Within 15 - 20 seconds, the signal became virtually unreadable and then faded out completely. The radio noise level increased and the complete short wave spectrum became dead. Not a signal to be heard anywhere. It was a strange feeling, sitting in the middle of the Pacific, listening to the radio chatter going on around you, then suddenly being completely cut off from the world. It brought home how dependant we had become on radio, and how alone we really were. I got several phone calls from people around the ship asking if the communal aerial had a fault, as they could receive no broadcast stations. The Captain came in with some messages to send, but I had to tell him we were temporarily cut off from the world. Slowly, over a period of several hours, signals returned, but I had to await nightfall before I could send the Captains messages. The short wave bands were disturbed for days afterwards, causing me considerable problems. I still puzzle over that change in frequency though. The receiver was synthesized and very stable. The transmitter also. I presume the solar blast pushed in the higher F1 and F2 layers, possibly even disrupting them and this caused the frequency of the reflected signal to change due to Doppler shift. Then the D layer became so highly ionized that it absorbed all signals. At the time however, it was inexplicable.

There was a heavy snowstorm at Inchon and it was very cold. Whilst berthed here, we received some Christmas presents from the Missions to Seamen. This is a church organization for seamen and they do some very good work around the world relieving some of the hardships that seamen have to face. The present I received was a black knitted woolen hat. It was invaluable in Inchon in winter. Temperatures were a good way below zero, and the chilling winds needed good clothes. We had received weather fax maps showing minus 40 degrees in Mainland China and Russia, but thought South Korea would be a reasonable temperature. Most of us were not fully prepared for such conditions, and I lacked a hat. I still have the one I received and it's just as good now as it was then. A silent and heartfelt "thank you" to who ever knitted it and donated it.

One evening we had a most tremendous snowstorm, blown in from the sea. I was aboard as it was too cold for me ashore. Some however had gone, and were stuck ashore until it abated. The ferry out to the ship only ran infrequently, and refused to go out under such conditions. We were berthed at an outlying pier and sadly crew were not allowed to go through the industry complex to get ashore. Some got very cold and wet waiting for the boat back to the ship and were heartily glad to be back. These are some of the less pleasant sides of going ashore.