Innocent on the run Part 3.

They had tried to become Seamen by going to the Merchant Seamen’s Association, where crew members were recruited for the dozens of ships plying in and out of the South Wales ports, but the clerk had told them that they must have a Seaman’s Discharge Book before he could place them on a ship. ‘How do we get books?’ Brian had asked. ‘You do a trip to sea,’ he’d replied. ‘We can’t do a trip without a book,’ Ricky answered. The clerk shrugged his shoulders and turned away, completely disinterested. They left feeling very frustrated. Outside, from their vantage point on the hill, they looked across the docks at the dozens of ships loading or discharging cargoes. The port was a bustling hive of industry. Colliers, called flatties because of their low superstructures, designed to pass under river bridges on their way to the power stations, loaded their cargo from endless lines of railway trucks. Huge tankers discharged their oil into massive tanks standing on the dockside in tank farms. General cargo ships loaded farming machinery, steel coils, timber of all kinds, pit props, engineering supplies, and thousands of other items. Ships specialising in transporting iron ore, fresh produce, fruit and vegetables and grain were being unloaded. The iron ore in mountains on the dockside, the fruit and vegetables being hurried into warehouses and enormous buckets on the end of crane wires grabbing the grain in ships’ holds before dropping it into lorries for shipment to the flour mill. The boys gazed at the scene before them in awe. ‘Surely, among all these vessels, there must be someone who needs us,’ Ricky said. ‘Of course there is,’ Brian grinned. ‘Come on, we’ll go around the ships again.’ They walked around the docks again, gazing at the ships with longing in their eyes and hope in their hearts. When the boys had first started going aboard ships, Ricky’s Mother had protested to his Dad about the dangers of young boys boarding vessels. ‘He’ll come to no good down there,’ she’d said. ‘Those foreigners could do anything to him and we’d never know what happened.’ ‘Don’t worry,’ his Dad replied. ‘All the foreign vessels have British Officers.’ ‘Don’t worry,’ she’d shouted. Of course I worry. I don’t want him kidnapped and sold into slavery or something.’ Ricky laughed. ‘I’ll be alright, Mam. Brian and I can look after ourselves. That’s why we’ve been going to the boxing club for years.’ ‘Fat lot of good that would do against grown men.’ she’d cried. ‘Oh, I don’t know,’ he’d said. ‘I can sort Dad out.’ His Dad had leapt to his feet and stabbed out a left at Ricky. Ricky dodged it and countered with a right but his Dad was faster, he’d moved out of the way and his right hand, palm open had caught Ricky on the side of the head. It staggered him even though there was no force behind it. ‘Pack it in you two,’ Mam had grinned, slapping them with her tea towel. Copyright 2005 by Deric Barry