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But the ship itself was warm enough, so I was back in reasonable spirits for
the evening watch. Unfortunately, the weather proved even more chilling than it
had in the morning. At about 9 pm, we arrived off the River Tyne, but because of
thick fog we were obliged to anchor, as I saw it, right in the middle of nowhere
(this was where radar was definitely of value, for one could maintain position by
reference to jetties, buoys and other fixed objects). However, very soon the pilot
came aboard and, fortuitously, the fog lifted, we raised the anchor (‘the hook’)
and entered the river. It was a surprise to me how narrow it proved to be; for one
of Britain’s great ports, it appeared that it would be difficult to squeeze between
its entrance piers.

Because of the conditions, the 2nd mate and I had to remain on the forecastle
in case we needed to drop the hooks in a hurry, and I was glad to find myself
with the job of keeping him, the ship’s carpenter (whose job embraced being
responsible for operating the anchor winch/capstan) and myself supplied with
cocoa – I was in the warmth almost as much as I was out in the chill night. But
this did not last, for no sooner had fresh cocoa been prepared than the fog again
descended, and with some difficulty, a tug, appearing from nowhere, assisted
us in turning around, and we again proceeded out to sea, where we anchored.
However, almost immediately the fog again cleared, the pilot decided that we
could now proceed; we raised the hook and entered the river. I was sent up to the
bridge to see how things looked, but as I got there, fog returned.

This time we were too far up the river to safely turn around, so the pilot
indicated that he would locate a berth, any berth, where we could safely tie-up for
the night and await the sunrise and, we hoped, clear weather. I climbed between
my sheets at about 3 am. Luckily, the morning was bright and clear, though very
cold, and we berthed without difficulty.

In 1962, Newcastle might have been said to have been one of the U.K.’s fading
glories. In earlier centuries, an important bastion of political rectitude, it declared
for the Royalists in the Civil War and was promptly sacked by the Puritans
(few movements had been so ineptly named). It was some centuries before the
Industrial Revolution revived the region’s prosperity, but the nearby coalfields
and riparian access to a large local workforce eventually favoured the entire
area (Northumberland and Durham), allowing it to become a major regional
economic power. This prosperity had, in the fullness of time, faded; by 1961, it
was facing hard times. While the coal industry was apparently flourishing (reality
was otherwise, however, for the truth was that it was on its last legs, though few
knew it), the shipbuilding and engineering enterprises that had been its engine-

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