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- HMS Devonshire
- HMS Devonshire 1st Commission 1962-64
HMS Devonshire 1st Commission 1962-64
- By Robby G
- Published 05/6/2008
- HMS Devonshire
- Unrated
OTHERS LIKE IT EVEN HOTTER
Tuesday, September 24th, the day we had all been looking forward to for the last 3 months or so in Portsmouth. After all the trials and tribulations it was still difficult to believe we were really on our way, engines mended, missiles fired, and all systems go. It was true though. and even the most cynical of the “We’ll never make it” brigade looked brighter as the sun grew hotter and the sea calmer on the ten-day haul across the Atlantic to Bermuda.
This, the longest trip we’d done at sea so far, was used to exercise seamanship and tactics with Wave Ruler, our faithful attendant over the next 3 months, to cleaning the ship, and of course, the inevitable trials. The time passed quickly and so, on the morning of Friday, October 4th, we berthed alongside at Hamilton, Bermuda.
Bermuda
An island paradise—so it said in the brochures anyhow! In fact. Bermuda turned Out to be a disappointment to those who had not been there before, a tourist trap mainly for American honeymooners, who seemed to be dragooned into doing everything—yes, everything by numbers and expensive as well. However, almost anywhere is better than Portland on a windy October day, and at least we could paint ship in reasonable comfort and provide a free show for the waterfront public at the same time.
Accordingly, there were few regrets when we passed the Narrows outward bound on the 8th, and headed North for Philadelphia, Pa.
Philadelphia
Looking back at it now, it is incredible to think how much we managed to get into the six days we were there and still be on our feet (almost, anyhow) at the end of it all. We went there to represent Great Britain us and a London bus—for Exposition Britannia, designed to present the best of Britain’s exports (amongst which we hope were included us and a London bus again!), and, even if it sounds like boasting, as far as can be recalled, we never failed.
The ceremonial highlight of the visit was the march through the city, first to the historic City Hall for an address of welcome, and then to be highly honoured by being granted the Freedom of the City. From there, band playing, bayonets fixed, we marched up Market Street through clapping and cheering crowds to hue the streets outside Wanamakers, where the exhibition was being opened by the British Ambassador. A memorable occasion, made even more so by the Gunnery Officer who, observing that the leading cars of the procession had gone the wrong way, rushed up the column shouting “They’ve made a balls-up” much to tile delight of the assembled crowds.
What else have we to remember Philadelphia by? For those of us who were duty onboard on visitors’ days, we will always remember that they never seemed to stop coming, over 15,000 in all. For those of us who weren’t duty well, take your pick! U.S.O. Dances, tours. even games of cricket, rugger and hockey - a home from home, and that really was what Philadelphia was a city of wonderful hospitality and friendliness, and one of which I am certain we are all very proud to be freemen.
Visitors in Philadelphia
It was with sadness that we hauled away from the jetty in the last remnants of the late fall sun and headed down river, not for the open sea though, but for the Chesapeake Delaware canal, the Potomac river and Washington. Despite the fog, which caused us to anchor off the entrance to the one way only canal for the night, this trip was full of interest. We passed first through the narrow, winding canal, and under some hair-raising bridges on bends—the biggest warship ever to do this- and then out into the waters of the Elk and Susquehanna rivers, past Baltimore, on under the new Chesapeak Bridge to Annapolis where we anchored briefly. From there out into the broader reaches of Chesapeak Bay, a sharp right turn and quickly into the narrow confines of the Potomac River, until we finally anchored again for the night off Quantico to draw breath and to catch up on sleep before the final assault on Washington.
Washington
The main purpose of our Washington visit was to show the American Navy on their own doorstep that we were biggest, best and British. There was no doubt in anyone’s mind when we arrived that we were British anyhow. We went up river, paying the traditional marks of respect to Washington’s tomb at Mount Vernon, and then on to fire our salutes and play ourselves into the capital of America with full ceremonial. There was no denying the fact that we were the biggest either—the biggest anyhow ever to navigate the Potomac to the Navy Yard. Those two facts assured, the next live days were devoted “servicewise” to giving the Americans proof that we were also the best of our type in the World no mean task! To achieve this, specialised tours of the ship were organised for a very broad cross section of the American Navy Office American Admirals in fact were more the rule than the exception! On the whole, the opinion seemed to be that we made up in quality what they made up in quantity!
Once again, the Philadelphian story was repeated, hospitality and friendliness abounded and we did what we could to repay it with the children’s party—a very great success and also being open to visitors, some 12.000 of them in only 2 days this time! As always, the time came round to leave and sail back down the river to Norfolk to spend 2 days there to show the Americans once again that it did work!
Norfolk
After a quick refuel at anchor from Wave Ruler after leaving the Potomac and a fast overnight dash down Chesapeake Bay. we entered Norfolk on October 24th. Here, the main Atlantic base of the U.S. Navy, we saw more ships than many had seen in a lifetime every type and class of vessel imaginable from nuclear-powered
carrier to harbour tug it’s nice to know that they’re on our side! The first day we spent demonstrating at sea, alongside that night, and the next day once again fog balked us - no future at 28 knots in a narrow channel! Accordingly, after a dry run, we finally left America in thick fog, bound for the real warmth—general opinion of America, why don’t we do this more often!
The passage south to the sun was uneventful, slightly angled to bypass a dying hurricane, the last of the season’s, and then on 27th October we at last entered the tropics to start our machinery trials. Off came the shirts and in some cases the next two layers of skin as well—and we got down to the serious business of slumming it in the Caribbean. Alter a fairly restful week at sea——for all except the Marine Engineers, who by this time were performing miracles below to keep the ship running we arrived at Willemstad, Curaeao.
Curacao
Curacao is geared to the Dutch economy by reason of its big Shell refinery and it was with the employees of this firm and the Dutch Navy and police that we found ourselves most concerned for our first tropical run ashore no high power entertainment or programme this time, just a chance to relax and drink beer on sandy beaches—no great effort this! All in all, it was a pleasant interlude in the rat—race of trials.
From Curaeao, we continued in our round trip of the Caribbean, coasting along off Venezuela and then into the Grenadine group of islands to land Banyan parties at Bequia and Union.
There should be no need to expand on the glories of West Indian Banyanning here by now everyone is either for or very much against. The dream of soft sandy beaches, dusky maidens plying you with rum and other unmentionable gifts, moonlight on serene seas, and the ship a thousand miles away have now given way to the reality of lovely beaches (but with a crab or two of monstrous proportions), some fat, chuckling mommas, lukewarm beer, and coconuts falling from on high onto the crockery, and a tropical downpour now and again for good measure. Nevertheless, the ship was a long way away for 24 hours, the water warm, and everyone enjoyed themselves and somehow we did seem to get hold of that rum, if not the dusky maidens! Once again, the general opinion let’s do this more often!
Having recovered all our banyanners with few casualties, we set course north for Puerto Rico for our much needed self-maintenance period of 14 days. Stopping only to have morning watch swimming off suitable islands in our track, we arrived alongside a very rickety jetty in San Juan on the forenoon of Saturday, November 9th.
San Juan, Puerto Rico
As our visit here was purely operational, apart from the traditional Remembrance Day service onboard, the programme was free of all the ceremonial normally associated with foreign ports. This gave everyone a good chance to have a look round first, and have their runs ashore later. San Juan itself was similar to Bermuda in many ways in that it was based on the American tourist trade—hence there were large numbers of money traps in the shape of hotels and casinos. Away from them though there were many small bars, the PX was good or rabbits, and the sea was good for swimming. As a result, the money. for some anyhow, lasted out the fortnight. Not a very exciting place to spend a fortnight anyhow, and gloom was spread over the last three days by the shaking news of the death of President Kennedy.( November 22nd, 1963. Almost every American alive that day remembers where they were and what they were doing when they heard that President John F. Kennedy had been shot)
Our departure on a Sunday forenoon was quite exciting—a total power failure and breakers ahead. Six hours later, though, all was well once inside the warm welcoming Caribbean again, and we set our mind to three days’ weapon training.
Unfortunately this was not marked by any degree of success. On the first day one of the aircraft crashed in the sea, and the helicopter and operations room told the American rescue aircraft where it was to the nearest mile, even though we were out of sight a very nifty piece of work. The next day was P.T.A. day the story; 7 drones, 7 ditchings
- enough said
Southward now again for a day at our “home port” Portsmouth in Dominica. Three big events took place here, the long awaited and deserved M.E. and M.L. Banyan, a hilarious cricket match, and the sight of one Captain, one Lieutenant-Commander, two Lieutenants, four Midshipmen, one Petty Officer, one Able Seaman, two boats, and a seine net out for a day’s fishing—the result, one very impressed fish!
By this time, our programme had undergone one of its seasonal changes and it was known that we would now leave our next port, Barbados, so as to arrive home a week early.
Barbados
The sun is hot, the rum cheap, the girls…… What more could one want—except the cash to enjoy it all with. Luckily (or perhaps unluckily, whichever way you look at it!) we arrived on early closing day, Saturday, and left on Monday, so no real opportunities for a rabbit run occured and our final run to the Canaries had been cancelled. What a decision to have to make to spend or not to spend the savings! The answer lies I think in the weekend takings of Harry’s Nitery, or the aptly named Last Chance Saloon! We left our alongside berth in the new harbour at Bridgetown, sorry the stay had been shortened, glad to be going home, and yet would still be happy to return a nice place.
For every mile we steamed north, the colder and unfriendlier it seemed to become. The milestones of leaving the tropics on December 6th— farewell allowances! Detaching RFA WAVE RULER on the 8th, at Ponta Delgada on (he 10th to pick up the trials party, and a fresh sou’westerly gale to blow us home, all these were left behind and so we arrived at Portsmouth, coinciding also with the first snow of the year, on the 13th.
A memorable three months cruise indeed. We learned a lot about the ship and ourselves and, even more important, showed other people what we were like. In fact, in the words of a cricket supporter at the battle of Portsmouth. Dominica. “Devonshire. you sho done well, boh”
Tuesday, September 24th, the day we had all been looking forward to for the last 3 months or so in Portsmouth. After all the trials and tribulations it was still difficult to believe we were really on our way, engines mended, missiles fired, and all systems go. It was true though. and even the most cynical of the “We’ll never make it” brigade looked brighter as the sun grew hotter and the sea calmer on the ten-day haul across the Atlantic to Bermuda.
This, the longest trip we’d done at sea so far, was used to exercise seamanship and tactics with Wave Ruler, our faithful attendant over the next 3 months, to cleaning the ship, and of course, the inevitable trials. The time passed quickly and so, on the morning of Friday, October 4th, we berthed alongside at Hamilton, Bermuda.
Bermuda
An island paradise—so it said in the brochures anyhow! In fact. Bermuda turned Out to be a disappointment to those who had not been there before, a tourist trap mainly for American honeymooners, who seemed to be dragooned into doing everything—yes, everything by numbers and expensive as well. However, almost anywhere is better than Portland on a windy October day, and at least we could paint ship in reasonable comfort and provide a free show for the waterfront public at the same time.
Accordingly, there were few regrets when we passed the Narrows outward bound on the 8th, and headed North for Philadelphia, Pa.
Philadelphia
Looking back at it now, it is incredible to think how much we managed to get into the six days we were there and still be on our feet (almost, anyhow) at the end of it all. We went there to represent Great Britain us and a London bus—for Exposition Britannia, designed to present the best of Britain’s exports (amongst which we hope were included us and a London bus again!), and, even if it sounds like boasting, as far as can be recalled, we never failed.
The ceremonial highlight of the visit was the march through the city, first to the historic City Hall for an address of welcome, and then to be highly honoured by being granted the Freedom of the City. From there, band playing, bayonets fixed, we marched up Market Street through clapping and cheering crowds to hue the streets outside Wanamakers, where the exhibition was being opened by the British Ambassador. A memorable occasion, made even more so by the Gunnery Officer who, observing that the leading cars of the procession had gone the wrong way, rushed up the column shouting “They’ve made a balls-up” much to tile delight of the assembled crowds.
What else have we to remember Philadelphia by? For those of us who were duty onboard on visitors’ days, we will always remember that they never seemed to stop coming, over 15,000 in all. For those of us who weren’t duty well, take your pick! U.S.O. Dances, tours. even games of cricket, rugger and hockey - a home from home, and that really was what Philadelphia was a city of wonderful hospitality and friendliness, and one of which I am certain we are all very proud to be freemen.
Visitors in Philadelphia
It was with sadness that we hauled away from the jetty in the last remnants of the late fall sun and headed down river, not for the open sea though, but for the Chesapeake Delaware canal, the Potomac river and Washington. Despite the fog, which caused us to anchor off the entrance to the one way only canal for the night, this trip was full of interest. We passed first through the narrow, winding canal, and under some hair-raising bridges on bends—the biggest warship ever to do this- and then out into the waters of the Elk and Susquehanna rivers, past Baltimore, on under the new Chesapeak Bridge to Annapolis where we anchored briefly. From there out into the broader reaches of Chesapeak Bay, a sharp right turn and quickly into the narrow confines of the Potomac River, until we finally anchored again for the night off Quantico to draw breath and to catch up on sleep before the final assault on Washington.
Washington
The main purpose of our Washington visit was to show the American Navy on their own doorstep that we were biggest, best and British. There was no doubt in anyone’s mind when we arrived that we were British anyhow. We went up river, paying the traditional marks of respect to Washington’s tomb at Mount Vernon, and then on to fire our salutes and play ourselves into the capital of America with full ceremonial. There was no denying the fact that we were the biggest either—the biggest anyhow ever to navigate the Potomac to the Navy Yard. Those two facts assured, the next live days were devoted “servicewise” to giving the Americans proof that we were also the best of our type in the World no mean task! To achieve this, specialised tours of the ship were organised for a very broad cross section of the American Navy Office American Admirals in fact were more the rule than the exception! On the whole, the opinion seemed to be that we made up in quality what they made up in quantity!
Once again, the Philadelphian story was repeated, hospitality and friendliness abounded and we did what we could to repay it with the children’s party—a very great success and also being open to visitors, some 12.000 of them in only 2 days this time! As always, the time came round to leave and sail back down the river to Norfolk to spend 2 days there to show the Americans once again that it did work!
Norfolk
After a quick refuel at anchor from Wave Ruler after leaving the Potomac and a fast overnight dash down Chesapeake Bay. we entered Norfolk on October 24th. Here, the main Atlantic base of the U.S. Navy, we saw more ships than many had seen in a lifetime every type and class of vessel imaginable from nuclear-powered
The passage south to the sun was uneventful, slightly angled to bypass a dying hurricane, the last of the season’s, and then on 27th October we at last entered the tropics to start our machinery trials. Off came the shirts and in some cases the next two layers of skin as well—and we got down to the serious business of slumming it in the Caribbean. Alter a fairly restful week at sea——for all except the Marine Engineers, who by this time were performing miracles below to keep the ship running we arrived at Willemstad, Curaeao.
Curacao
Curacao is geared to the Dutch economy by reason of its big Shell refinery and it was with the employees of this firm and the Dutch Navy and police that we found ourselves most concerned for our first tropical run ashore no high power entertainment or programme this time, just a chance to relax and drink beer on sandy beaches—no great effort this! All in all, it was a pleasant interlude in the rat—race of trials.
From Curaeao, we continued in our round trip of the Caribbean, coasting along off Venezuela and then into the Grenadine group of islands to land Banyan parties at Bequia and Union.
There should be no need to expand on the glories of West Indian Banyanning here by now everyone is either for or very much against. The dream of soft sandy beaches, dusky maidens plying you with rum and other unmentionable gifts, moonlight on serene seas, and the ship a thousand miles away have now given way to the reality of lovely beaches (but with a crab or two of monstrous proportions), some fat, chuckling mommas, lukewarm beer, and coconuts falling from on high onto the crockery, and a tropical downpour now and again for good measure. Nevertheless, the ship was a long way away for 24 hours, the water warm, and everyone enjoyed themselves and somehow we did seem to get hold of that rum, if not the dusky maidens! Once again, the general opinion let’s do this more often!
Having recovered all our banyanners with few casualties, we set course north for Puerto Rico for our much needed self-maintenance period of 14 days. Stopping only to have morning watch swimming off suitable islands in our track, we arrived alongside a very rickety jetty in San Juan on the forenoon of Saturday, November 9th.
San Juan, Puerto Rico
As our visit here was purely operational, apart from the traditional Remembrance Day service onboard, the programme was free of all the ceremonial normally associated with foreign ports. This gave everyone a good chance to have a look round first, and have their runs ashore later. San Juan itself was similar to Bermuda in many ways in that it was based on the American tourist trade—hence there were large numbers of money traps in the shape of hotels and casinos. Away from them though there were many small bars, the PX was good or rabbits, and the sea was good for swimming. As a result, the money. for some anyhow, lasted out the fortnight. Not a very exciting place to spend a fortnight anyhow, and gloom was spread over the last three days by the shaking news of the death of President Kennedy.( November 22nd, 1963. Almost every American alive that day remembers where they were and what they were doing when they heard that President John F. Kennedy had been shot)
Our departure on a Sunday forenoon was quite exciting—a total power failure and breakers ahead. Six hours later, though, all was well once inside the warm welcoming Caribbean again, and we set our mind to three days’ weapon training.
Unfortunately this was not marked by any degree of success. On the first day one of the aircraft crashed in the sea, and the helicopter and operations room told the American rescue aircraft where it was to the nearest mile, even though we were out of sight a very nifty piece of work. The next day was P.T.A. day the story; 7 drones, 7 ditchings
- enough said
Southward now again for a day at our “home port” Portsmouth in Dominica. Three big events took place here, the long awaited and deserved M.E. and M.L. Banyan, a hilarious cricket match, and the sight of one Captain, one Lieutenant-Commander, two Lieutenants, four Midshipmen, one Petty Officer, one Able Seaman, two boats, and a seine net out for a day’s fishing—the result, one very impressed fish!
By this time, our programme had undergone one of its seasonal changes and it was known that we would now leave our next port, Barbados, so as to arrive home a week early.
Barbados
The sun is hot, the rum cheap, the girls…… What more could one want—except the cash to enjoy it all with. Luckily (or perhaps unluckily, whichever way you look at it!) we arrived on early closing day, Saturday, and left on Monday, so no real opportunities for a rabbit run occured and our final run to the Canaries had been cancelled. What a decision to have to make to spend or not to spend the savings! The answer lies I think in the weekend takings of Harry’s Nitery, or the aptly named Last Chance Saloon! We left our alongside berth in the new harbour at Bridgetown, sorry the stay had been shortened, glad to be going home, and yet would still be happy to return a nice place.
For every mile we steamed north, the colder and unfriendlier it seemed to become. The milestones of leaving the tropics on December 6th— farewell allowances! Detaching RFA WAVE RULER on the 8th, at Ponta Delgada on (he 10th to pick up the trials party, and a fresh sou’westerly gale to blow us home, all these were left behind and so we arrived at Portsmouth, coinciding also with the first snow of the year, on the 13th.
A memorable three months cruise indeed. We learned a lot about the ship and ourselves and, even more important, showed other people what we were like. In fact, in the words of a cricket supporter at the battle of Portsmouth. Dominica. “Devonshire. you sho done well, boh”