My memory is not so good so I asked Gord Bateman to fill me in on this part of the story.

I first met Gord in a pub in Marpole (one of the many pubs in Vancouver that didn’t ask for I.D.) We got together when working at the Peace River Dam. I told him the story of the bicycle robbing in Yokohama. I asked him recently to repeat the tale I told him.

“So…here’s how it was told to me by a guy who was there 🙂  After a
night of drinking in waterfront bars, this guy and a close friend and
couple other crew members decided that rather than walk back to the
ship they would  “borrow” some bicycles that were parked in front of
an all night cafe. Some one saw them peddling away and alerted the cop
on the corner, who also had a bike and he called a couple more cops
from further up the street and they gave chase, much whistle blowing
and yelling at the thieves to stop. However the fugitives had enough
of a head start to make it to the gangway, drag the bikes up and
across to the other side of the ship, and throw them into the
bay…the cops spent some time yelling and threatening and looking
around the deck, but soon realized that no evidence amounted to no
case and that there really wasn’t much future arguing with some
drunken seamen in a language they didn’t speak about stolen bikes that
couldn’t be found.
I don’t recall the story about some one dying but I do recall that the
hospitable crew of said ship decided that it would be a nice cross
cultural gesture to invite (read, sneak) some working girls they had
met in the waterfront district, ( and this was strictly in the
interest of cross cultural and linguistic studies, you understand) to
come aboard and take up residence in the crew quarters for a couple of
days until the skipper finally got wind of what was going on and
escorted them ashore. That’s how it was told to me in a bunk-house b.s. and beer session at
the Bennet Dam project in a cold January of 1966….maybe it will kick
start some more story”

Maybe his memory is as bad as mine or I was lying. Both possibilities could be true.  My faulty memory says this: I wasn’t involved in the bike theft, the story was told to me by a crewman who was there. The bicycles were stolen and the crooks were chased by a single cop who whistled others to join him. He got to the ship only to be met by a group of seamen who accidentally beat him to death. They got on board, threw the bicycles off the other side and denied everything to the cops who came along. There was no proof so the cops, after interrogating the captain and officers had to let the ship go. The captain ascertained the truth and the ship was condemned to be dry from then on.

Tomorrow we set sail for Vancouver. Be perpared for the typhoon, I wasn’t.

to be continued…

Another story-about heading back to the ship. Ron and I, after a night on the town, decided enough was enough and we should go back the ship. We’d take a taxi: checked our pockets and found we were broke. We’d spent everything on our night in town. What would we do? I suggested we just take a cab and find someone aboard who could lend us the money. We actually had to do it that way because, although the harbour was close to our part of Yokohama, we didn’t know how to get there and so that eliminated walking.

We jumped into a cab and headed home. It was dark. When we arrived. As we got out a dark figure approached. It was the purser! a dark inscrutable man who just stood there as we explained our problem. His only words “Go into the ship”. we left him there staring down at the driver. Don’t know what happened but assumed everything came out right.

Tomorrow I’ll try to document the dark part of our ship’s heritage. And the next day the ship sails, empty and light, ready for the Typhoon!

Off to Tokyo.

Along with a couple of other friends we decided to go on the train to Tokyo on a Saturday afternoon. There were no lineups and the attendants stayed in the background when the train arrived.

But first we wanted to get something to eat. Japan, at that time was awash in vending machines so we didn’t need to know the language as we could see what was for sale. And everything was for sale. We settled on sandwiches and a surprise special treat…Beer!! Out of a vending machine! Not only that one of the machines supplied small bottles of whiskey!

Well supplied we boarded the train . Man that thing could go! We didn’t get much of a chance to see the countryside as the tracks ran between buildings and built up areas. But we loved watching the people getting on and off.

Finally we arrived in downtown Tokyo, slightly pickled so brave enough to enter the crowds. And crowds there were! Even on a Saturday afternoon the streets were full of people. (I’m writing this in 2022) One memory I have which has followed me through the years are those Japanese faces. They didn’t  all look alike. There were about 4 or 5 different types. The only example that has stuck with me are the old, tired people carrying stuff obviously destined for market. This is all I remember about that sensation.

We saw very few faces other than Japanese. A few American soldiers but that was about it. Consequently we were the center of attention and stared at throughout our whole visit. We didn’t wear uniforms so, perhaps, that was part of our uniqueness.

Hungry. Suppertime. All the restaurants had very well executed models of the food in their windows so it was easy to choose. The food was great and the service was very, very attentive. The whole restaurant,  including the waiters and staff, stared at us throughout the meal.

It was getting dark. Let’s go home! We decided to take a cab all the way to the ship. We figured with the four of us it wouldn’t cost much more than the train. Besides we’d get to see the countryside between Tokyo and Yokohama. The cab driver really enjoyed the trip almost as much as we did. There was no countryside! It was urban the whole way. Occasionally we’d drive through low rent areas and would spot prostitutes’ and what looked like drug dealers but mostly it was buildings and people and traffic! Lots of traffic.

Finally we arrive right at the ship. (the border guards allowed taxis to pass right through.)

-to be continued…

In our wanderings we came across the rail line and Yokohama Station. The interurban train was fast! Where a road crossed the tracks a horn would sound when a train was about to go through. Nobody attempted to  run or drive over the rails when they heard this sound. Two gates came crashing down and the train whistled through going like 200 miles and hour(at least that’s what it felt like.)

The station itself was something to behold. We observed it in rush hour. You know those videos of guys pushing passengers into the cars? Along the waiting area were ranged young men in uniforms and white gloves. When the train stopped and a few people got off (most of the huge crowd waiting was going to Tokyo) the people started getting on. This was what the uniformed guys were waiting for. When  the train whistled it’s intention to leave the men with the white gloves started pushing the last folks on board. There was no pandemonium the people being pushed had stoic looks and endured the pushing. The train couldn’t go until the doors completely closed so there were a few moments when the attendants got together and finished off their chores, pushing and squeezing the last of the travelers so the doors could close.

We were planning on going to Tokyo but not that day. Not that day…

-To be continued…