Part 7
HOPE to HORN.
 
Our days in South Africa were now drawing to an end. With the end of January our refit too came to an end and we not only had to restore order in the wake of the dockyard but also make ready for the departmental inspections by the Commander-in Chiefs staff in the first week of February.
It is at this point that I feel that the extract from The Daily Telegraph, 1959 should be read;

TOP HEAVY (Daily Telegraph 1959)

“A single British Frigate, HMS LEOPARD, patrols the vast stretch of water between South America and South Africa. It is known as the South Atlantic Squadron. And that is all there is of it at present.
In control of this lone warship are: one Vice-Admiral, one Captain, four Commanders, and four Lieutenant Commanders, all shore based in South Africa (at HMS Afrikanna, Simonstown).
It is not the fault of these officers that there are so many of them to command so few sailors. The fault lies with official policy which has left us scandalously short of operational ships at a time when needed – as Kuwait showed – sea power and military mobility are paramount for the protection of British interests.
The public knows what the Navy needs: more cold steel and less gold braid.” 

So, we have another inspection coming up, could this reflect on the above. The CinC staff, are bored,
 “ I know Flags, the swimming pool is being cleaned and my golf partner is away, lets get down to the jolly ‘ol LEOPARD and give her another inspection, I’m sure ‘ol Gaunt wont mind!, might get a couple of snifters as well, just to round it off nicely?” 
 
And so it happened. All that week the various staff officers were to be seen clambering about the ship, and the process culminated on Saturday 6th when the Commander-in-Chief inspected divisions and said goodbye to us, and no doubt back to his golf and other hectic Naval chores! 


SAS Vrystaat
 
8th February 1960.At 0800 we sailed for exercises, under the name of “Alex”, with our old friends VRYSTAAT and GOOD HOPE on the way to Durban, where we arrived on Saturday 13th.

DURBAN

This is NOT Jacky Hobbs, but his oppo who gave Jacky's name to the press!


Once again there is little enough said of our recreational activities in Durban, which were, if anything, even more enjoyable than before; but there were two events which do deserve a mention.

At the request of the Chaplain of the Seamans Institute the concert party gave a charity performance on Friday 19th. To make sure the public got their monies worth, the Chaplain arranged for a number of local performers to supplement our own turns. The concert party went into frenzies of rehearsals to ensure they were worthy to appear in this semi-professional company in a big city- very different matter to the usual slap-happy frolic at back and beyond.


The result was a marathon entertainment- in fact some of the later turns had to be cut-which made a profit of £100 for the Institute and which got off to a perfect start with the announcement to the packed theatre that Her Majesty the Queen had given birth to a son, (Andrew). We Splice the Mainbrace (PHOTO)

Under the impact of this news, those of the ship’s company ashore that night were deluged with overwhelming hospitality, and great interest was taken when we paraded in full uniform and fired a royal salute –not to mention “splicing the mainbrace”- at noon the next day. All the Natal newspapers featured the ceremony prominently, and the great South African public were able to see the “Butcher” enjoying his tot on newsreels. The saluting guns crews of that day, (I was lucky enough to be one of them) were allowed to retain, as a souvenir,one of the spent cylinders. I still have it to this very day sporting a floral decoration. 

22nd February, we bid goodbye to Durban having said fond and indefinite farewells to our many friends there, and on Wednesday 24th arrived back at Simonstown, where we spent a busy few days cutting our last ties with South Africa 

1st March. At 1100hrs, played out by the band of the South African Navy, we slowly drew away from the jetty and a couple of minutes later cleared the harbour entrance at a speed that drew gasps from the crowd bidding farewell.
Seven hours later we were on our way back again.

Our recall was caused by the plight of Mauritius, which had been devastated by two successive cyclones. After a brief call at Simonstown to embark disaster relief gear, we headed at high speed for Durban, making as we went plans to bring relief to the stricken island. 


SAS Natal

7th March, a Thursday, in the afternoon we reached Durban, and there awaited for further orders. Though kept at a state of readiness at short notice we were able to renew contact with the astonished friends we had so recently taken leave of, but the general uncertainty prevented any whole relaxation till we were told on the Saturday afternoon that the island authorities decided that they could manage without us. So on the Sunday morning we left Durban, and this time it was to be for the last time, and after three hours at Simonstown, to disembark disaster relief stores, on Tuesday morning, we headed westwards in earnest. 



Our passage to Port Stanley (The Falklands) had been planned to take18 days, but in order to catch up with our original programme we travelled a good deal faster and in fact arrived only one day late.

PHOTO. RFA Wave Knight, tops us up

19th March. Port Stanley.We were extraordinary lucky in our crossing of this dreaded stretch of ocean, having only two or thee days of “roughers”. However it was bad enough at Port Stanley, to make it necessary for the RFA WAVE KNIGHT to put to sea to replenish us, so it wasn’t until the dog watches that we actually entered harbour and gazed at this remote outpost as the wind whipped the murky waters of the harbour into a yeasty turmoil. Little was I to realise that 22 years later, I was to return to these same waters, in not so happier times, aboard HMS GLASGOW, to take part in the “Falklands War”.

                                                                                                        The Falklands only pub in 1960

We stayed at Port Stanley for only two full days, enough time to give both watches a run ashore. And sailed again on Tuesday 22nd, a beautiful crisp morning, on which we enjoyed a rendezvous with HMS PROTECTOR. (PHOTO)

We were in company for about an hour during which time the Captain made a courtesy call, by helicopter, on the Captain of Protector. During this time mother- nature gave us a display of over 50 whales and innumerable penguins within a mile of the two ships.

Forty eight hours later, we entered the Straits of Magellan, which were disappointingly wide and flanked by regrettably dull shores. To the south Tierra del Fuego (Land of Fire) was flat and uninteresting, while northwards the coast of the continent was a little better, though a range of hills along the coast broke the monotony. All ideas of picking a tortuous and treacherous passage between towering precipices while naked savages rained fiery darts on us had to be shelved! 
 
PHOTO We get a mail drop, courtesy of Protectors helo.

4th March. We approached Punta Arenas at 1400hrs and, as we turned and slowed to fire national and personal gun salutes, the full force of the westerly wind, which had been with us all forenoon, became apparent. Standing still, at “attention”, on the upperdeck during the prolonged salutes was almost a feat of strength, for the wind was gusting at over 30 knots. As soon as the ship was fully secured alongside, and the gangplank, safely down, a warm mess and a hot drink was most- welcomed by all.
Magellan Strait

Prior to our arrival here we were instructed by the Captain not to mention our recent visit to the Falklands, the message was to be repeated when we visited our first Argentinian port .The “Islas Malvinas” is a voodoo subject. Both Chile and Argentina contesting over it’s sovereignty. Little did I know that 23 years later I would return to the Falklands, to do battle against the Argentinians, aboard HMS Glasgow.

We only had one full day at Punta Arenas, the most southerly city in the world and also Chile’s southernmost naval base. Over the 200 foot ridge immediately behind the town lie vast flat plains, divided for the most part between estancias. On these a flock of 90,000 sheep is not considered excessive. They must be a ready source of provender for what we had recently learnt in South Africa to call a “braaivleis, and now had to call an “asado” (Bar-B-Q); and the asado given for players and spectators after the soccer match on our second day was the excellent forerunner of many more-in fact, giving these open-air roasts is almost a Chilean and Argentinian national sport! 

 We sailed at 0630 on Saturday 26th March, having embarked a Chilean naval officer as pilot, on what was to prove the most beautiful and yet most worrying voyage of the commission. We continued up the straits until they headed west, when we turned southwest into the Magdalena Channel, keeping the mainland of Tierra del Fuego to port. With Cape Froward, the southern most tip of the South American continent proper, disappearing astern, the desolate beauties of the Tierra de Fuegan channels really came into sight. At first they were indescribably dreary.

PHOTO. In the Magellan Strait

One felt that the almighty had deliberately left this region just to show what the raw materials of creation were like; the very mountains were uninspiring that one couldn’t imagine the most ardent mountaineer wanting to scale them. But the scenery slowly developed a stark grandeur and, after a warning from our pilot that the sunny weather wouldn’t last long, camera’s appeared like rabbits from a warren; and the Contrameistre or Quartermaster Glacier, the first of many we were to see, was much photographed. This was the only time we saw a glacier in sun light; and the whites, blues and greens of the ice made it a wonderful sight.
 
Passing the glacier, we turned west into the Cockburn Sound and the came the low cloud and intermittent rain, which were to be with us for much of our trip.

The Cockburn Sound is wide and deep, and contains several islands whose names reflect those of the English naval officers who first navigated these channels over a century ago. It was here that we came across odd pieces of floating ice; they looked like small icebergs and were the result of the ice breaking away from the glaciers. It was a relief to get past them, as a collision would have been embarrassing. 

Once the novelty of jagged, snow-capped mountains and narrow creeks, and barren islands had worn off, there was little worthy of note until we reached the south-western end of the Cockburn Sound. Here, in showery, gusty weather, we began to catch the Pacific swell, and the ship rolled heavily as we entered the Pacific Ocean itself. By now the wind was gale force, but visibility was still good as we turned east into the first of the channels south of Tierra del Fuego .We had been in the Pacific only half-an-hour, but were glad to get round into the flatter waters of the Brecknock Pass. 
 
PHOTO.  Glacier in the strait.

Through the Brecknock Pass in deteriorating weather, we passed south of Cape Atracadero on Tierra del Fuego, where a dangerous rock is buoyed 250 yards offshore. Once past this threat and into Whale Boat Sound, a three-degree gyro error became apparent, which in the confined waters of these channels was rather an embarrassment.

Toward the end of Whale Boat Sound lies Londonderry Island. It was in Puerto Engano, a small bay on the north side of this island, that the pilot recommended a night anchorage; and by 1910hrs we were anchored.

The night was far from quiet. The wind gusting up to 40 knots, again brought violent sleet and hailstones over the hills, and the “anchor watch” huddled behind “A” Gun Turret. On the enclosed bridge it was icy cold and our windscreen heaters and wipers came into their own, for ice was rapidly forming all over the upper-deck. The sound of the wind blowing down from the mountains was rather like an express train; and having had to anchor in confined waters in such conditions, it is hardly surprising that we were more than pleased when daylight came to relieve our anxieties. 
 
We weighed anchor and proceeded at 0840 and moved on into the north-west arm of the Beagle Channel. The mountains all around us were snow-covered and the rocks black- altogether a colourless but impressive sight. We felt very small at times, with the white foothills of the Darwin Range of Tierra del Fuego rising to over 3000 feet, straight out of the water to port, and the Londonderry Mountains to starboard. During this time the sun never shone and many of the mountains were shrouded in mist. 
 
PHOTO "The Pyramids" Ushuaia

Further down the Beagle Channel’s north-west arm we began to get into glacier country again, where a series of the most wonderful glaciers poured their ice into the channel to port. The loveliest of all, the Romanze, curls down from 1000 feet, accompanied by a huge waterfall, while three miles further on the Allemana and Italia lie close together.                      

With Tierra del Fuego still to port and the snowy mountains of Navarin Island to starboard, we moved down the mile wide Beagle. Soon we saw the unmistakable landmarks of Mount Olivia, a sharply-pointed conical mountain, and the dinosaur-like spines of the Five Brothers, all sign posts to Ushuaia; and at 1230hrs we made the dog-leg turn to port round a group of islets to enter Ushuaia Harbour. Ushuaia has a population of maybe 2000, and we are only 30 miles from Cape Horn.

Ushuaia, the Argentine's equivalent to Scapa Flow, is the southernmost town in the world ( tactfully leaving Punta Arenas still the southernmost city). In the Ona Indian tongue Ushuaia means "the quiet place"; and if one went ashore and climbed a little, to turn and overlook the wide and peaceful bay surrounded by the sheltering mountains, it was easy to see how it got it's name. The town itself was straggling and rather ramshackle, offering very little, but we received the warmest of welcomes from the Argentine Navy

This is only a two day visit, enough for any man. It was bitterly cold and damp. Waste of time polishing your shoes prior to going ashore. What roads there were, were slush and ice ridden, if there was a thawed out area it was just mud. Entertainment was just about negative. If it wasn,t for the Asado's (bar-b-q's) put on by the Argentine navy I do not think many would have ventured ashore.

Ushuaia
Southernmost town in the world, at the tip of Tierra del Fuego, Argentina, less than 1,000 km/620 mi from Antarctica population (1991) 29,700. It is a free port and naval base. Industries include lumbering, sheep rearing, and fishing.( population 1960 about 2000)