Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image

A seafarer ninety-two years young

By

JOHN LESLIE

“I have never been out of work, even during the great Depression of the 19305. I believe that there is always work for those who really seek it." These words were spoken by an "old salt," Mr William ("Bill") Craigie aged 92, a resident of Cressy House in Lyttelton. Mr Craigie said he had always been too busy to think about himself,' and this was a good thing. His philosophy has always been courtesy to everyone, and the right mental attitude. It had paid him well, be said. Mr Craigie said he did not blame young people for seeking a “better world,” although the

world of his day, despite wages and conditions, was ne-- v> as bad as painted. Hard work is his recipe for longevity. He said that Dr Chambers, of Lyttelton, had told him to walk a lot and drink plenty of fresh water. Bill Craigie does both of these things; and he is a familiar figure on the Lyttelton waterfront and in the town itself. Until three years ago. he thought nothing of walking the Bridle Path, catching a bus at Heathcote, and going to see an old friend at Riccarton. He did the same thing in re-v-rw coming home. Needless to say, Bill < .aigte has never owned a car.

Of spare build, he is very fit still. He has a splendid memory and a razor-sharp brain, especially when reminiscing about the sea and shipping. He does not look like a man of 92. From Cressy House, Lyttelton's home for the aged, he has a splendid view of the harbour and shipping. His own sea career has been a fascinating one. He is,, in many ways, an authority on shipping. He has had no easy road. It began in Dundee, Scotland, where he was born. His wife died 16 years ago, and some time later Bill Craigie moved from Christchurch to Lyt-

teltbn to live with his son-in-law, also a former merchant seaman, Mr R. L. Butterfield. His grandson, Mr L. W. Butterfield, is an officer in the Union Steam Ship Company. Mr Craigie is one of the most cheerful elderly folk the writer has met. He

gets on well with everyone. In Dundee, he began work at 11 years of age, but only part-time, as alternate days were spent at school. He worked from 6 a.m. to 6 p.m. with two meal hours, for an average

wage of 3s a week. His early jobs included employment as a telegraph messenger, and a jute mill worker. According to him, the Dundee jute mill, which had 8000 employees, was the second largest in the world outside Calcutta. As a telegraph

worker he redeived 8s a week. As a jute mill employee he received 14/7d a week. But he also worked overtime, five nights a week, to supplement his wages.

Next he took farm work, and as a driver of a team of horses on a Scottish farm he received 10s a week. However, food and a bed were supplied. When he was 21, Bill Craigie emigrated to Australia under a subsidised immigrant scheme. The fare cost him 6k. He travelled in the former Lund’s Blue Anchor Line vessel Commonwealth via the Cape of Good Hope. This shipping line was the forerunner of the P and O’s branch service to Australia. One of Lund’s vessels. the Waratah, disappeared off the South African coast; one of the unsolved mysteries of the sea.

Once ashore in New South Wales, Bill Craigie obtained work on a cane farm, then in a sugar mill. He also served aboard a small river steamer carrying sugar cane. Later still, he again drove a team of horses in New South Wales for 25s a week. In 1909, he decided to try his luck in New Zealand and crossed the Tasman for only 5 in the passenger steamer Manuka. which was later wrecked off Long Point, Otago.

He went to sea on the New Zealand coast, as a fireman aboard the east coast passenger vessel Tarawera. His wages were

2 a week and it was hard work, he said. The Tarawera served Dunedin, Lyttelton, Wellington, Napier, Gisborne, Tokomaru Bay, and Auckland. He subsequently served in other Union Company vessels, the Te Anau, the old Ngahere, Manuka, and the

first Monowai. He made two round trips in the Manuka as a fireman, then paid off in Australia, where he worked in the bush at a place called Noa Noa (“Never Never”), in Victoria. After some months in the bush he returned to New Zealand. The Great War was in the offing. On July 11, 1914, he left New Zealand for Britain and Europe, as a fireman aboard the former New Zealand Shipping Company’s steamer Kaipara, which carried a full load of meat, wool and general cargo. But the Kaipara was torpedoed off West Africa by the German armoured merchant cruiser Kaiser Wilhelm der Grosse, and her officers and crew were taken aboard the German vessel as prisoners. Mr Craigie said that the Kaiser Wilhelm der Grosse had been the smartest and most luxurious passenger liner on the Atlantic service, until Britain’s Cunard liner Mauretania appeared. Three weeks after being taken prisoner, the Kaipara’s men were rescued when the British cruiser, H.M.S. Highflyer, appeared on the scene. The prisoners were taken aboard a small vessel and were then put ashore at Las Palmas. H.M.S. Highflyer, a much more powerful vessel, then sank the Kaiser Wilhelm der Grosse, which was hopelessly outgunned.

From Las Palmas, the Kaipara's men were repatriated to Britain aboard a

small British cargo vessel belonging to tue Ropner Line. According to Mr Craigie, the prisoners received better treatment aboard the German vessel than they did aboard the British one. In the British vessel, they had to sleep on straw in the bottom of a hold. The German ship

was like a hotel in comparison.

Back in Dundee, Bill Craigie went to work again in a shipyard for a year. Then he went back to sea as a naval rating in one of six paddle minesweepers, all of whose names were taken from prominent British racecourses.

After the war’s end, Bill Craigie served in Spanish

waters aboard a small cargo vessel trading between Bilbao ■ and Barcelona. After another year working in a shipyard, he got married and brought his bride to New Zealand. The young couple settled in Christchurch and before finally getting employment in the Addington railway workshops, Bill Craigie had several jobs.

He worked for a quarter of a century at the railway workshops, much of the time as a crane driver. For many years he used to go back to see some of his former workmates, but today he takes things a little easier, and mostly confines his outings to Lyttelton. An avid reader, he reads “The Press” right

through at Cressy House each morning, and for other reading he prefers autobiographies. He is thus well informed on world affairs and local matters.

Eleven years ago, Bill Craigie went back to Dundee for a six-month holiday. He travelled to Britain by sea but flew back to New Zealand. Four years ago, he made another trip back to Dundee and flew both ways. On this trip he spent four months in Dundee.

Bill Craigie is a remarkable man, with a remarkable philosophy.

He is a member of the Rationalists’ Association, and, in fact, is the oldest association member in

New Zealand. For a “ra- ’ tionalist” he has a surpris- > ingly “Christian outlook.” | or at least, what a Christian outlook is supposed to be like. On the Lyttelton water--front, he is known to hun- ' dreds of people. His know,-1 ledge of ships is astound-1 ing.

He does not care for the large new container ves«-| seis, one of which, the Act 7, was visible from Cressy House while we talked. He prefers the roll-on con-i tainer vessels, as do many | other folk connected with shipping. He believes that the roll-on ships will come into their own eventually, | and that the cellular container ships will become obsolete.

This article text was automatically generated and may include errors. View the full page to see article in its original form.
Permanent link to this item

https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/CHP19780408.2.108

Bibliographic details

Press, 8 April 1978, Page 14

Word Count
1,348

A seafarer ninety-two years young Press, 8 April 1978, Page 14

A seafarer ninety-two years young Press, 8 April 1978, Page 14