“ANCIENT MARINERS”

Wanganui Chronicle, Volume 76, Issue 83, 8 April 1933, Page 8

“ANCIENT MARINERS”

LIFE IN RETIREMENT FAMOUS BRITISH CAPTAINS GOLF, BOWLS AND GARDENS What happens to ocean liner captains when they come ashore for the last time? This question was put to a well-known “ancient mariner” in Southampton recently. “The average liner captain, once he reaches retiring age,” he replied, “is not sorry to ‘anchor,’ and, strange as it may seem, he rarely, if ever, goes back to his ship. He prefers to live with his memories and, in the majority of cases, is content to seek out those pursuits in which a life at sea gives him little opportunity to indulge. “Moht. of them would admit, if they spoke the truth, that they had no desire to go back to sea again. But they like nothing better than to meet other captains, swap yarns, and discuss the technicalities of their profession over a pipe and a drink.” Back to the Sea As a matter of fact, the majority of the captains who used to sail from Southampton do not live in the town. A number of them are in Liverpool, others are in London and two or three have made homes in the west country. Only one could be found who wanted to go back to sea. He is Captain. J. S. Thompson, who has returned home after 25 years commanding ships in the Far East. He finds that time hangs heavily on his hands and. that he has to content himself with a bit of fishing and. shooting. With few exceptions the retired captains in Southampton are devoted to the same hobbies—golf and gardening, motoring and reading. Any morning you like to go up to Stoneham Goli Club, on the outskirts of the town, you will see the massive figure of Captain Artiiur Mills, 80 years of age, but still as fit as a man of 40, and long retired from the American Line. The Keenest Golfer Captain E. G. Diggle, who used, to command the Aquitania, is another golf enthusiast. In fact, he is one of that noble band who have holed in one. That was at Ferndown, near Bournemouth, where he often plays. Probably the keenest golfer of them all is Captain G. S. McNeil, commander for so many years of “The Old Lady of the Atlantic,” the gallant Mauretania, It used to be said of him that within an. hour of his ship docking and his papers being signed and handed over to the Board of Trade and the Canard Company, Captain McNeil was away in his car to Bramshaw Golf Club, in the New Forest, and that he drove straight from the 18th hole to the “Maure” on sailing day. But golf has a serious rival in bowls. Southampton has the oldest bowling green in the world, and many others are scattered over the town. Tho most enthusiastic player is Captain John Hague, an old commodore of the Union-Castle Line, a great sailor and a picturesque character. He can bo met every day, wet or fine, striding through the town, and if he has not a case of “woods” under his arm, it is a book, for he is one of the library’s best patrons. Another great Union-Castle captain Sit Benjamin Chave, is one of those sailors who are not content with one career. He is now the local meteorological expert of the Air Ministry. An Exclusive Club And. there is Captain J. E. PardoeMathews, whom thousands of Britons travelling between Southampton and South America will remember as commandei of Royal Mail boats. He has taken an estate at Chandlers Ford, just outside the town, where he shoots and sells game, breeds poultry, and culti vates a market garden and grows flowers. In his spare time he serves on the Pilot Commission. Other captains have gone into business. One opened an office as an efficiency expert, and. became an inventor of office gadgets and domestic appliances. Another is an insurance expert, while Captain F. B. Ilowarl. who used to command the White Stai liner Olympic, is engaged in a business which takes him backward and forward across the ocean he knows so well. When they are not golfing or gardening or bowling, these old sea dogs do wander dockward, not to ships, but to a cosy little suite of rooms near the dock gates, where is housed one of the most exclusive institutions in the world—the Southampton Master Mar iners’ Club, every member of which has a foreign-going master’s certificate. Every Tuesday they meet, for lunch, and debate afterwards on some technical subject connected with the profession. Recently they had a “half-deck” meal (a typical meal of the days of sails). They had salt “horse” (beef), salt pork, hard, square, biscuits, and pea-soup, duff and molasses. (This was the Sunday treat in sailing days). Oudoubts whether they will have such a meal again for some time, for the biscuits played havoc with false teeth