North Shields to the Farne Islands Trip
A reminiscence by Bob Armstrong
Before I begin, I have to admit that the dates are a bit vague, but I think
it was towards the end of summer of either 1981 or 1982. I'm sure the ship's
log will confirm. I believe Waverley nightstopped up at Newcastle upon
Tyne Quayside and on this particular weekend morning, (Saturday or Sunday) She
came to North Shields Fish Quay where she swept round in a graceful arc then
landed heavily against the quay, pushed there no doubt by the strong ebb tide
which had the tendency to do this to unsuspecting vessels. The loud cracking
sound brought a grimace to the lips of the Quay Master. Never mind, we all
trooped aboard ready for our voyage via Blyth which was about 8 sea miles
North of the Tyne, to the Farne Islands and back. This was a surprise to Fran
my wife as she only thought we were here to see the ship, not board her. She
was therefore dressed for summer weather and not the chilled sea air we would
be subjected to once away from the lee of the land.
Waverley slipped out past the pier ends and turned North. It was a bright
breezy day with the wind from the South East. I knew this to be a chilly wind
that invariably raised a short chop which was uncomfortable for smaller boats
as I used to run sea fishing parties from North Shields with my brother
George.
We dropped into Blyth to collect more passengers who filed on board. They
too wore expressions of excitement. After all it wasn't normal for the World's
last sea going paddle steamer to sweep into these waters. We left Blyth
heading South for a while and once clear of the dreaded 'Sow and Pigs' rocks,
turned towards the North and for the Farnes.
There was an air of excitement on board. Adam our 2 year old son and Clare
our 7 year old daughter were in a new and strange environment. The roll of the
ship was odd to their little legs. Fran was feeling the chill and we spent a
long time in the shelter of first one funnel then another. I seem to remember
there was a sense of warmth coming from the forward funnel base. As things
became more chilly and windy, poor Fran had to retire to the interior.
I was beside myself and was here there and everywhere looking at the ship,
the sea and the view from every angle, this was my element. I also made many
trips 'doon te see the engine'. Going North it was calm enough with only a
chill following breeze. I could see that the 'sea's' were following us and
knew that on our return it would be 'different'. We got to the Farnes and
marvelled at the views and then also to distant Holy Island (Lindisfarne) and
across to the mighty Bamburgh Castle atop it's massive rocky outcrop.
Presently Cap't. Neill turned Waverley round for our return trip. Almost
immediately she began her dancing which was to continue all the way down to
the Tyne. The sea was hitting us from the South East and the chill wind swept
the decks. Only the hardiest of the passengers was on deck now. The roll of
the ship caused some to ponder whether that last bite, or pint even was wise.
Eventually there was a steady stream of gastro-invalids to the sponsons where
the wc's were located. The Gents were fortunate in that theirs were ahead and
astern of the starboard wheel. Alas for the poor ladies, they had to suffer
the traumas of attending their wc's on the 'busy' port side. I say busy
because that was the side being hit by the South Easterly 'seas'. Far from
being an uncomfortable chop, there were real 'seas'.
Poor Fran had what must have been the most horrendous experience of all and
it was after this that the after ladies were closed off. Being behind the port
wheel, the aft 'ladies' was particularly 'lively'. I remember it well as I was
waiting for Fran to emerge. I felt the ship plunge and lurch over to port in
the trough of a particularly big 'sea'. She was then hit hard by a wall of
water which the paddle blades caught and threw with considerable force up
beneath the ladies wc's behind the wheel. There was a 'whumph' from below and
a gargled scream from within. Fran emerged soaked from head to toe. Apparently
she had just managed to enthrone herself when the incident unfolded. The
resulting blast of freezing sea water which erupted from the toilet pan, blew
her ceilingwards, she screamed then landed amidst a deluge which accompanied
her out of the doorway. It could have been worse, but not much. After all she
might have wanted to do more than a No 1! That was it, if she could have
walked on water she'd have ordered the ship to stop dead in the water while
she walked home. She wasn't the only casualty however. The same wave caused an
almighty crash in the cafeteria where a sizeable pile of plates were sent
crashing to the floor.
We picked our way between moaning passengers. It had really turned nasty on
the way South to Blyth. The distant
chimneys of Blyth Power Station were seen ahead and to starboard and eager
eyes peered in that direction often, but we seemed to be approaching them
awfully slowly. Presently they came to dominate the scene, signifying the fact
that we were approaching Blyth Harbour where some lucky souls could be landed.
Strangely, conditions improved remarkably as we approached the harbour and
some local lads in their cabin boats tried in vain to race Waverley who was
deceptively speedy.
We steamed up into the quiet waters of the river Blyth and reached the quay
where in no time at all Waverley was alongside disgorging the locals who
didn't seem quite so excited anymore. One or two of them were decidedly wobbly
on their legs. Was it the roll of the ship or had they sampled a little too
much hospitality? We'll probably never know, but without obvious exception,
they were all pleased to be on terra firma.
The time came to set off once more for the Tyne and for the first time this
trip, Waverley seemed reluctant to do what she was bid. We left the quay with
the wheel hard to starboard but the shallow harbour seemed to hinder her
normal handling and she wouldn't respond to the helm. Ahead then astern, but
all in vain, there was nothing else to do but break out a long warp from the
forepeak, aft around the starboard sponson then on to the quay. We went slow
ahead until the warp almost sang with the strain, but slowly it worked. The
bows came about to starboard and after a while and with the warp cast off, we
headed once more out to sea and on to the Tyne.
The South Easterly had blown itself out and the trip South was peaceful and
actually quite pleasant. Fran dried herself against the forward funnel casing
and we entered the Tyne almost with all forgiven. I say almost. I happen to
know one person who might not care to risk a repeat experience...Fran!
We disembarked at North Shields and finally watched Waverley plod upriver
to return to Newcastle quayside once more. It was an unforgettable trip and I
just wanted to share it with you before the mists of time obscured the
details. I hope you enjoyed this little tale. I certainly enjoyed sharing it
with you.
Webmaster's note: Readers will be pleased to know that the
paddler now has a sealed, vacuum sewage disposal system and "blowbacks" of the
type described are no longer possible!!!
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