Memories

I came across this 'memory' on a local writers website which gives an interesting insight in to what it was like at Readheads during WW2. I have been informed that Bill Stephenson wrote it;-
Readheads during the Second World War
On leaving school at 14, I went to work at John Readhead & Sons, Shipbuilders & Engineers, South Shields, first as an office boy, and then as an apprentice draughtsman and later as a fully qualified draughtsman.
As office boy, I was first in the office to open the basement strongroom where overnight all the plans and documents were stored for security. The air raid wardens/fire watchers' telephones had to be unplugged from the basement and re-instated in the drawing office. All blackouts had to be taken down so that the office was ready for the staff to start work. On leaving the office at night all this ritual had to be done in reverse so I was often last to leave.
Readheads produced a wonderful effort during the war. We built the prefabricated 'Empire' type general cargo vessels. As well as conforming to classification society requirements they had to satisfy Admiralty regulations. Many were equipped with Admiralty Net Defence (A.N.D.) booms and nets to protect against torpedoes. Paravanes were fitted and degausing was installed to guard against magnetic mines. The ships were all fitted with stiffening for guns, heavy gun aft and Oerlikon guns on the bridge wings.
We also built one vessel with a catapult forward for a plane. This was usually a Hawker Hurricane and was to protect the convoy against enemy aircraft.
What brave pilots they must have been, after being catapulted off they then had to fight off the enemy knowing that successful or not they could not land anywhere. They just had to ditch into the sea near the convoy and hope they would be picked up by one of the convoy vessels.
The graving dock side of Readheads kept us busy repairing vessels with the fore or after end 'blown off' or some other mine or torpedo damage, still they were all able to resume 'normal service'.
One highlight of my time at Readheads was the visit of the King and Queen to the yard, although it was a surprise visit, by the time they arrived at the yard everyone was around to greet them.
I did receive my 'call-up' papers for the forces, but as I was in a reserved occupation I was exempt from duty.
As the war turned in our favour the shipyard built some small tankers with cut-away bows for running onto the beaches of Europe during the Invasion. These ships allowed our forces to have immediate access to oil and fuel on the 'enemy' side of the Channel.

This memory comes from former Readhead's employee Dennis Maccoy;-

I started my apprenticeship in Readhead’s Steel Drawing Office in the same year as John Bage – on 13 July 1964. An interview a few weeks earlier with Des Cook and Alistair Townsend (Mr Cook and Mr Townsend throughout my time at Readheads) had resulted in one of three job offers in local engineering companies before I left school – changed days! On my first day in the drawing office I was introduced to the “Plan Man” – a delightful man, already in his seventies, who ran the plan store and looked after the office boys, all of whom subsequently became craft apprentices, and new DO apprentices such as me. Today “Tiger” Watson (I never learned his Christian name and would not have dared to call him Tiger to his face) would be called a Document Controller and would rely on absurdly complex computer databases. In 1964 he controlled all the drawings in the Hull Drawing Office plan safes, apparently, from memory. Beneath the Steel Drawing Office at Readheads (still part of the McNulty offices, I believe) there were two fire-proof (and, I would think, bomb-proof) walk-in plan safes. To the left-hand side at the bottom of the stairway from the drawing office was the room containing plans of earlier vessels, including some drawings in coloured ink from the 1880s that could only be described as works of art. To the right was the room containing plans of recent vessels and those under construction. No requirement for document numbers – walk in and ask Tiger for “the Profile & Decks for ship number X” and it would be in your hands in seconds – Microsoft Access eat your heart out! I soon found Tiger a fascinating man to talk to. He had seen W G Grace play cricket and watched Admiral Sir Charles Beresford bring the Channel Fleet to anchor off the river – a line of battleships stretching from St Mary’s Light to about Souter Point! Sadly, I lost contact with Tiger after the Readhead’s Design Office moved to Hebburn (the old Hawthorn Leslie tracers’ office) after the amalgamation of the river’s shipyards – I suspect he was compelled to retire. Tiger was a kindly and thoughtful person and I consider myself privileged to have met him. After the amalgamation of Tyneside’s shipyards I spent many happy years working for Swan Hunter until closure in 1994. I now run a ship design office in North Shields where, I suspect, we currently have the largest group of Readhead’s “refugees” in the marine industry – Harry Auty, Ian Falconer, Derek Gidney, Ray Liddle and me. In the past we have also been privileged to have John Bage, the late Ronnie O’Cain and John Humphrey in the office and Mick Dawson is currently representing one of our major clients - the yard may be gone but the spirit lives on!

In response to a request in the Newcastle Evening Chronicle for articles about memories of the first day at work, for the magazine ‘Remember When’, I wrote the following article which describes my start at Readheads in 1964. (John Bage - website author)

My First Day at the Office
By John Bage
When I was at school in the early sixties one third of my lessons were related to technical subjects. Whilst my classmates dreamed of sailing off to distant shores in the Merchant Navy I was quite happy to do what I liked best, and that was Technical Drawing. I wanted to be a Draughtsman and I never considered doing anything else.
I wrote to local firms where I thought they would have a Drawing Office and soon had an interview with a Mr Chisholm, the Personnel Manager of John Readhead & Sons, a long-established Shipbuilding Yard in South Shields on the River Tyne. These were the days when there were plenty of ship orders around, and the yard was a hive of activity and offering excellent future prospects.
I was offered a position as an Apprentice Draughtsman and was to start in two weeks. I wasn’t too nervous on the first day as I was pleased to have what was considered in those days to be a good job with a reasonable salary and conditions. For my first weeks pay I proudly took home £3 8s 8d, half of which I gave to my mother for my ‘keep’, and I still had something left at the end of the week. I was required to wear a suit and tie, and polished shoes, as were all the other staff, but it was O.K. to take the jacket off when working. Swearing was discouraged and respect was to be given to older staff and management. In fact when the Managing Director, Harold Towers came round on an inspection the place was so quiet you could easily hear a pin drop.
The drawing office was in a very old building. It smelled of stale tobacco smoke, but that was acceptable in those days as nearly everyone smoked. The walls were all wood panelled and there were only a few draughty, single glazed sash windows giving very little natural light. Large canopies with fluorescent lights in them hung down on chains from the ceiling, over every drawing desk. These desks were large, heavy wooden sets of plan storage drawers with horizontal tops to which the drawings were pinned. The drawings themselves were produced in ink on a waxed linen which had to be pinned and stretched out on the desk top and then rubbed over with powdered chalk. One tedious task the apprentices had to do was to scrape a block of chalk to ensure sufficient powder was available for everyone. I remember one morning an older draughtsman said the coffee, which was made by apprentices twice a day, tasted like chalk. He was overheard by one of the trainees, who duly made the afternoon coffee for the complainer with a liberal dose of powdered chalk and which he drank without comment.
The office turned out to be very friendly and in fact was more like family, something I haven’t really experienced in any of the many drawing offices I have worked in over the last 36 years. My years there were a pleasure and I met some very fine people who became a source of encouragement for me for the rest of my life.
I will never forget the sights and sounds of the shipyard as the steel plates were formed into magnificent ships which would go on to sail around the world to so many different places for years to come. We were so proud of every one of them. The people in the North-East shipyards were unique, and this has been said many times by many people. I can confirm that they were very special from my years working with so many of them in and around the shipyards of the Tyne and Wear.

I started in the Outfit Drawing Office, and worked there with some really nice people. Douglas (Dougie) Wilson was a senior, highly respected draughtsman. Dougie was the Secretary of Marsden Road Baptist Church for many years. Also in the office were Norman Musgrave, Eddie Weightman, Ray Liddle, Ronnie O'Cain, Len Barron, Ian Wilson, Ernie Russell, Fred Weightman, John Humphrey, Harry Rylance and Alan Dale. Others who worked in the other offices were Sylvia Graham, Linda Winter, Dennis Maccoy, John Horsburgh, Jim Wood (see newspaper article on Readheads People page), Gary Newman, Dave Moon, Fred Connaughton, Frank Davison, Ronnie Clapham, Dave Warne, Dave Wilson, Dave Stephenson, Micky Dawson, John Relph, Billy Cooper, Bob Hamilton, Ray Smith, Bob Redhead, Duncan Bedligton, Mavis Donkin and a few others whose names I can't remember. Des Cook was the Chief Draughtsman, Alistair Townsend was Technical Director, George Atkins was Naval Architect and Bob Henderson was Yard Manager.

The following is part of an article that was published in the Sunderland Echo and on their web-site at http://www.sunderlandtoday.co.uk.

Even though the writer is describing his own working experiences on the Wear I think he gives a very good description of what it was like to work in any North East shipyard in the early sixties;-

Fond memories of life in the yards
FORMER shipyard worker George Pearsall enjoyed his time as an apprentice at JL Thompson's so much that he has put pen to paper to record his memories. SARAH STONER dips into his diary, Tales From My Toolbox, to learn more about George's shipyard experiences.
"IT was at the end of May 1967 that Ernie Fannen, the foreman joiner at Joseph L Thompson shipyard, approached me as I was working in the wheelhouse of a bulk carrier, the River Fern. The ship was almost finished and I was completing a few small jobs," recalls George Pearsall.
"It was a pleasant summer day and I was humming a tune from the Beatles' excellent new album, Sgt Pepper, which had just been released. As Ernie approached, my heart sank. I had been expecting this visit, but what he said still came as a big shock.
'Sorry son, I'm going to have to let you go.'
"And with that, my time at JL's came to an abrupt end. It was three weeks after my 21st birthday and, as I was no longer an apprentice but a fully fledged joiner, I was a suitable candidate for redundancy. In another week, the Fern River would be handed over to its owners and I would be out of a job."
George, a former Southmoor pupil who had excelled only at woodwork, found himself without a job and with little hope of finding another that he loved quite as much.
"Since then I've had many other jobs and, over the years, I've acquired a wife, a daughter, a few cats, thinning hair and an overdraft, but I've never forgotten the six years I spent at Thompsons. They were among the happiest of my life," he said.
George left school at 15 without qualifications, but was lucky enough to secure an apprenticeship at Lane Fox Joinery, Barnes, for the princely wage of £2.40 a week.
The teenager found himself drawn to the river however and, when his neighbour offered to help find him a shipyard job, young George jumped at the chance.
His first role was in the timeboard office at JL Thompson's, handing out work detail boards to workers, then collecting them back in at night.
George enjoyed the general hustle and bustle and recalls: "It was great to walk around and see the ships in the process of being built. I was also intrigued at how many different trades there were, and just how big the shipyard was.
"There were platers putting huge sheets of steel through bending machines, welders constructing the prefabricated sections, painters, electricians, men making pipes, men driving cranes, there were dozens of different trades.
After a few months, George was transferred to the general office, where his duties included buying cakes at Jenny's shop each Friday for the comptometer girls. On reaching 16, however, he was finally moved to the joiners' shop.
"That Monday morning I was dressed in my new bib and brace overalls, the legs of which my mother had considerably shortened to allow for my reduced stature. I was even equipped with the regulation 3ft folding rule tucked away in the correct pocket of the overalls," he said.
George was shown around the work area by shop foreman Ernie Fannen, who then pointed to a huge pile of oak skirting boards, destined for the St Rosario ship, and told him to sandpaper the whole lot.
"Those skirting boards seemed to take forever," said George.
"But, after I had mastered sandpapering and become more proficient at fixing drawer handles, I was sent to work with Teddy Helm in the joiners' shop. He showed me how to make a real joiners' toolbox, which I still have to this day.
"Gradually I began to buy the tools that I would need, the company allowed apprentices to borrow a sum of money which would be deducted from our wages over the next year. I went to Strothers, the ironmongers, and bought a hammer, saw, chisels and a Stanley handbrace, and drills and felt really proud of my new kit."
One of George's first jobs was the make veneered plywood wardrobes for the St Rosario, but another – arguably more important – was to make the tea.
"A lot of the joiners had their own can for the tea to be made in. These cans were prized personal possessions. Some had such a black crust on the inside that you wondered if they were hygienic. Apparently it was vitally important to have this layer of solidified tea on the can, it actually enhanced the flavour," said George.
"The morning break was a cherished tradition for the shipyard workers and had been hard won. Such was the suspicion by the management that this privilege would be abused, that a hooter would blow at the beginning of break and then at the end.
"You had to be pretty quick to drink your tea and eat your sandwiches, as the foreman very often went on his round after the second buzzer."
At 17, George moved from the comfort of the joiners' store to marking out a new ship, the 60,000-ton BP tanker British Commerce. It proved a shock to his system.
"Winter mornings on ship could be especially cold, particularly during the incredibly frozen winter of 1962/3. Large chunks of ice could be seen floating down the river.
"It was so cold, that I sometimes sawed a six foot length of timber down the middle for no other reason than to put a bit of warmth into my body. Wet timber and blunt saw I might add!" he said.
The cold, however, was the least of his worries. Marking out was a dangerous task, with smoke, noise and welding sparks all adding to the potential problems.
"There was danger all around," he said. "As soon as you walked up the gangway and stepped onto the deck you were confronted with a multitude of situations which could be harmful or even fatal. The deck was awash with cables and heavy machinery being moved. You had to pick your way around very carefully.
"It is impossible for anyone who hasn't worked in a shipyard to fully understand the condition on board a ship which is being built. The noise could be absolutely appalling; it was like being inside a drum.
"Another real hazard was when we were working alongside welders. Very often the space we were working in filled with smoke. It was a heavy, acrid smell which could be overpowering and dangerous. Occasionally, a welder would be physically sick, overcome with the fumes from the welding rod.
"The main danger, however, was the risk of getting a flash. If you looked directly at the welding flame, there was a danger your eyes could be damaged. This happened to me only once. I spent several hours feeling as though someone had thrown a bag of sand into my eyes."
As the years went by, so George progressed to fitting out cabins, which was a job he really enjoyed. But his happiness at Thompson's was to be short-lived.
"I was resigned to losing my job when I was 21. It was a common feature at all the yards. When a ship was completed and sailed off into the sunset, the yard always had a surplus of labour and the workforce had to be reduced," he said.
"Sometimes, you might be lucky and find employment at one of the other yards. But, after I left Thompson's, I tried various yards and even travelled to Clydeside to see if they needed any joiners on the QE2. All to no avail."
"There was a great camaraderie, a lot of noise, shouting and banter. For some of the men, it was the only life they knew," he said.