MV Ligar Bay

Being almost a thousand miles nearer to the Arctic Circle than Bayonne, Carlisle was cold, dark and wet when I arrived in the early evening. I was told that the ship was berthed at Silloth in Cumbria—a place I’d never heard of. It was a fair way from Carlisle and the only way to get there at night was by taxi. As soon as I’d arrived in Silloth I could see why I’d never heard of it: it was tiny—a small town with a small harbour that made Gunness wharf look like Europort! My expectations were not high. There was a small Butlins-style holiday camp just outside, though quite who’d want to go there for a holiday I don’t know. But like a lot of these small obscure places I soon found out that there was fun to be had at Silloth—even if it wasn’t the holiday season.

            The Ligar Bay was a twin-engined diesel-electric cement carrier owned by Blue Circle Cement, but managed by Everard. It was a small ship, but quite an interesting one to work on. She was powered by two large dc motors, which in turn were driven by two, eight-cylinder English Electric diesels coupled to their respective generator-sets. Power to the propeller was controlled via two large variable resistors. These same generator-sets were also used to power the cargo handling gear which was basically a huge air compressor and a couple of discharge pumps. The dry cement was aerated by the compressor and so took on the properties of a liquid. It was then pumped ashore.

I’d scarcely got my bearings at Silloth when the ship left for the brief journey into the choppy Irish Sea to Ramsey on the Isle of Man. Most of the crew were older than me with the exception of one of the AB’s—a young Scots lad. I asked him about Ramsey on the way over: he said it was quite good fun and that he’d already got himself a girl there. Ramsey was a tiny port, but fortunately the cement wharf was right in the heart of the town: it was only a short walk along the quayside to Parliament Street and the Mitre Hotel. It was here that my newfound Scots mate introduced me to a girl called Julie. Julie and I hit it off straightaway, and for the next month I had a great time. I’d arrive in Ramsey, go ashore, drink beer all night, and return to the ship for a night of sex with Julie. What could be better? Silloth turned out to quite good too. I met a girl, whose name I have since forgotten, at the one and only nightclub. It turned out that she was from ‘Barra’ (Barrow-in-Furness) and I asked her what she was doing in a place like Silloth in early April when no-one else was there.

“Have you ever been to Barra?” she asked.

I replied that I hadn’t.

“Well don’t bother” she declared, “it’s a dump!”

She’d obviously never been to Shoreham. Anyway, we danced and made small talk until around midnight, at which point we decided to head back to the ship. I did suggest her room, but apparently she was sharing it with her girlfriends. Anyway, she added, she’d never been on a ship. I told her not to get her expectations up too much—it was hardly the QE2, but she didn’t care. Her girlfriends were still dancing around their handbags as we left.

            Mid April and the ship left Ramsey for the last time and made for the River Thames. It was to load oil well cement at the large Blue Circle cement works at Swanscombe in Kent. From there it ran a regular service to Great Yarmouth, Dundee, Aberdeen and Peterhead where the cement was then used in the offshore oil and gas rigs. It was like the Ability and Amenity all over again: the east coast of Scotland in the cold and dark—although it was supposed to be spring. What’s more I didn’t really want to leave Ramsey and Silloth. I’d had a good time and developed a nice little relationship with Julie which I was sorry to finish. I received a few very saucy letters from her for a while but eventually they stopped coming and Julie became just a memory. I enjoyed Ramsey. 
          The first time in Swanscombe I set off for home, taking the familiar train journey across North Kent and South-east London to Clapham Junction and then Brighton. I spent the night with my girlfriend and then set out on my motorbike to be back in Swanscombe by eight o’clock in the morning. I left my bike parked in the loading shed at Swanscombe and more or less commuted to and from work each day when the ship was alongside at the works. The trip continued to be uneventful until I paid off in mid May.