In response to several requests for more tales here is one that again I am not sure if If I told it before or not,if I did bear with me.
In March 1947 I joined my first ship HMS Nigeria in Simonstown South Africa after travelling out by troopship from Liverpool through the Mediteranea and Suez Canal to Aden, Mombasa and finally disembarking in Durban South Africa and then travelling by train for a couple of days to Capetown. For the next year we cruised up and down the West and East African coasts visiting a variety of ports. Around April 1948 we were in Simonstown and I was ashore with a couple of other guys at the local movie house when a message flashed on the screen ordering all sailors from "Nigeria" to report back to the ship. When we got back we discovered a hive of activity around the ship with a line of trucks bringing all kinds of supplies for what was going to be a long voyage to the Falkland islands and then down into the Antartic as appartently Argentinian and Chilean ships and personnel had been interfering with British Scentific bases in various locations in the Antartic.

So we left Simonstown and headed West across the South Atlantic and what a rough trip that was, I nearly got washed overboard when going up on deck for some fresh air i was hit by a hugh wave and taken from one side of the ship to the other and only the guardrails saved me from certain drowning. On arriving in Port Stanley in the Falkland Islands we met up with two other Royal Navy warships that had been visiting South America. All three ships then headed down into the Antartic to visit the troublespots, our first stop was Deception Island which is volcanic, as we entered there were several Argentian and Chilean ships at anchor so as was the International custom we fired a salute with our guns, in just a few minutes there was a rumbling sound and an avalanche started from the surrounding hills which of course were covered with snow, what a sight. after delivring lettes of protest from the British Government we then went on to Melchor Bay and another island whose name I cannot remember. At times we had difficulty trying to cut through the ice but finally we returned to Port Stanley then the voyagae back to South Africa stopping en route at the volcanic island of Tristan Da Chuna which of course several years later the inhabitants had to be evacuated to the UK when the volcano erupted. All in all a memorable trip. Mauri

Now that;s what I call living the life!!
Thank you Mauri and can we have some more please?
LR

Low Roader, Barney, I should have mentioned that I Purchased a local newspaper in Tristan Da Cuna and kept it as a souvenir for years untill I had a suitcase stolen while waiting to join a ship on the Great Lakes in Canada. The price of the paper was one halfpenny or two potatoes???. Mauri

Mauri, what can I say? What a life!!!!! You could survive on your memories alone.