For the previous couple of weeks or so I’d been wondering why we’d neither seen nor heard from “Olwen”. The frigates and destroyers must have refuelled alongside in Yokosuka otherwise they’d have just been drifting around the ocean. But all became clear. After “topping up” all the warships (we still didn’t need any) on the way north, she peeled off and limped into Hong Kong with some major mechanical problem. At the time we left Pusan her repairs were guestimated to probably take another 2 weeks.
From what we gathered, she was alongside at the only longish quay the small naval base had. This could cause problems finding a berth for either us or “Invincible” when we arrived in only a few days. While I would have been really chuffed to see the “Invincible” stuck out at anchor, and 2 large RFAs hogging the berth, that just wouldn’t ever happen. No matter how urgently we needed repairs of our own.
Apart from “mechanical” stuff, we had another major problem.
To explain this, may I remind you of my misgivings during the Devonport refit just over a year ago.
During that winter refit I complained that the preparation and application of the extremely expensive new flight deck coating was not being applied correctly. After being “pooh-poohed” by both “the man in charge” and the Dockyard management I’d chanced my arm put my misgivings into writing, and made sure they were duly “logged in”.
Now it was to be “chickens coming home to roost” time. The huge variations in temperature during this deployment ranging from “too hot to stand on the deck without proper boots”, to wearing “woolie pullies” at night, had naturally caused the ships metal to expand and contract….particularly areas like the flight deck that “overhung” and were open to the elements both on top and underneath. As I feared, the flight deck coating began disintegrating and coming off in quite large sheets. This meant the ship having to “Opdef” the flight deck. “Opdef” meaning a serious operational defect beyond rectification by the ships staff. We had no option but to disembark our 2 aircraft to “Invincible”. Plus the maintenance guys, who were not best pleased. Nor were our Lords and Masters back in the MoD.
The upshot of all this was that poor “Olwen” was dragged (literally) kicking and screaming out to an anchorage I remembered all too well about 10 miles from the town landing jetty. Our “minor” warships just fitted into the small basin of the naval base, and we plus “Invincible” got the main alongside berths.
It quickly became apparent that re-coating (at least in part) a ships flight deck to the correct specifications was something new to this little base outpost. But bless their little hearts, they tried their best. In fact it became very reminiscent of Hong Kong contractual work as seen in the 1950s. The “paint” had to be ordered and flown out from the UK. This stuff isn’t really a “paint” as such. And at well over £100 per sq.yard of coverage isn’t your normal B&Q “non-slip” stuff. But while we were awaiting delivery we were descended upon by a horde of original style little Chinese ladies all dressed in black, wielding long handled 2” scrapers. The idea was to scrape off the loose stuff and stop when the loose stuff ended. At least that’s what I assume the officious Mandarin had told them, but as I don’t speak Chinese he could have told them anything. So we finished up with a 10ft wide bare patch around the sides and back of the deck. Job done. So far. It rains in Hong Kong, and my does it ever rain. Why pay people to scrape when the “elements” can do your water blasting for you, free? So. With no protective covering on the now bare steel parts of the deck….rusty patches quickly appeared. Little Chinese ladies reappeared, but armed this time with little wire brushes. This would continue on a daily basis until or deck “gloop” arrived.
Sometimes it doesn’t just rain in Hong Kong. You can get the most magnificent thunder and lightning storms as well as the rain. One evening as we were hosting a little drinks party for about 50 guests, one of these things erupted. So most of us (and the guests) went up to the bridge to watch (and listen). All of the guests were well used to these storms, but as they all lived in “High Rise” apartments none of them had ever seen the majesty and violence that happened over the harbour. The thunder was right overhead, and the lightning almost seared the air. No wonder all those buildings in Hong Kong have huge lightning conductors built into the structure….and here was me just thinking they were a cosmetic addition just to make the building that much higher than its neighbour. To observe multiple lightning strikes with sound effects added, within 100 yards of where you’re standing, is pretty mind blowing.
The berth we were at was open to the harbour (no protection), and the local authorities were a bit concerned about this. Two very high value ships sitting there with no real defence could be an open invitation to some sort of attack….particularly from underwater. At low tide we (and I presume “Invincible”) were actually sitting in the mud ( for want of a better word for over 100 years of whatever sits on the bottom of Hong Kong harbour). So “it was decided” that both ships would have their bottoms inspected. Perhaps I could have phrased that a bit better, but what the hell….
For an underwater examination there’s a tried and tested method. First, lines are placed at regular intervals from one side of the ship to the other but going under the ship. A bit like preparing for a mass keel-hauling. These lines operate as guides for the divers. This was all fine and good at high tide. But these Hong Kong divers also continued the searches at low tide. Which meant they had to burrow through the mud with only their fingers to guide them under a slowly lowering 30,000tons of ship coming down on top of them. Words fail me at this point.
Eventually our flight deck “paint” arrived. Only one teeny little problem. All the industrious wire-brushing had cleaned the steel surface so well that the vital “pre-coat” had been scoured off. Words like “Oh, knickers” and suchlike were bandied about. Too late to do much about it now, so a good dollop of yellow chromate was slapped down. (very adaptable were these little Chinese ladies). It all looked very pretty. A dark grey flight deck with a bright yellow border. Still no sign of a tent to keep the rain off though. Evidently the little ladies had reached their level of competence as they were exchanged for another horde…little Chinese men in black with baggy shorts and all wielding a trowel. Taken off some construction site or other I presume. This “paint” stuff is supposed to be laid at a very tight specified thickness, and not just trowelled on like a layer of plaster. But that’s what we ended up with. At vast expense, not only because of past idiocy and megalomania, but because it would all have to be re-done correctly when the ship was back in the UK. Tax payers money? Tell me about it.
Being alongside made me a bit more willing to have a wander ashore. Not bad if you like anonymous and very overcrowded cities. But very close to us was a large public square. Close? About 200 yards from our stern, but a 400 yard walk to get there. Around 4pm the air was filled with the high pitched screeching of some unknown species of bird. What a racket. But this turned out to be the “Ahmas” time off. The equivalent of an au-pair but in reverse. They all congregate at the same time every day and discuss who knows what, but whatever it is, it created much hilarity.
But as I was due to fly home in a few days time I wanted to do another couple of things. This may sound a bit patronising, but it really isn’t meant to be. Most people, being aboard a ship or not, always seem to wait for someone else to arrange things for them. But I sort of got wind of an evening out (mainly aimed at tourists) that began with a full Chinese Dinner in a top restaurant (with booze attached), followed by an open topped tram-ride through the older parts of Hong Kong. (Wanchai, Happy Valley and so on). Seemed like a good idea. I got sufficient “takers” and booked the evening. And what a hoot it was. The meal was beyond belief…but perhaps the never ending tide of Chinese wine had a part to play there. The open-topped tram was another bit of an eye opener. The front part of the top deck was covered and converted into a bar area. I hadn’t realised when I booked this jaunt that the drinks were all part of the “trip”. So it all became a bit hilarious….until tomorrow. But it was for sure one of the better outings I’d ever arranged.
Before I girded my loins for a flight home courtesy of the RAF I had one more thing to do. I wanted to buy a printer for my computer. As in Singapore, many businesses are arranged in groups. Computer stuff seemed to be established in an area of Kowloon …the north part, closer to the New Territories than the harbour area. That is, miles away. Then I had a visitor from the “Invincible”. My old friend from the “Olna”, the ex-marine sniper, ex-policeman who’d found God somewhere down the line and who now did the fire and brimstone bit. Great to see him again. So off we both went to Kowloon on board the old “Star Ferry”. And then on to Nathan Road. Oh, my goodness. In my younger days Nathan Road was full of places that could make, sell or get you anything your little heart could desire. The sky would be visible. The end of the road could be seen. Not any more. The sky is almost obliterated by high rise concrete and glass “emporiums” (emporia?), the “Road” has gone from about 2 miles long to nearer 10 miles. And not even a welcoming old fashioned Chinese sort of pub. Sad.
Our destination was an area I can only name as “Shimmy Shammy Po”. Which is right under the approach run for the airliners coming into Kai Tak. Standing in the street all one can see is the fuselage, the wings are out of sight. All the washing hung out to dry between the buildings must have reeked of aviation fuel.
But getting there. We decided to catch a “Metro” rather than a taxi, just to see what it is like. Finding an entrance for a visitor is a bit difficult. We eventually sussed out that what appeared to our English eyes were not public conveniences with the odd blast of hot air coming out of them but could well be Metro stations, and so they were.
Shimmy Shammy Po is very much “old” Hong Kong trying to come to grips with “new” Hong Kong. They may have modernish buildings, but this is a working class district and so very traditional. The people who I’d come to think had disappeared all seemed to be stuck up here away from the glitz of “modern” Hong Kong. A teeming mass of people dressed and working as if the 20th century hadn’t arrived yet.
A quick word about the metro system.
As you’d expect, quick, quiet and clean. And cheap. But what I certainly hadn’t expected was the lack of carriage endings. The entire train is a long open tube that wiggles and wanders in the most interesting way. Knocks spots off anything we have in the UK.
