PAN CRESCENT
...there's always a first time...
by Joe Hafford

Back in Montrose, ready to ship out again! The three weeks plus that had elapsed since the Amelia were so full that I couldn't decide whether it had been an eternity since I had been out or just yesterday. I was pretty full of myself, what with the endorsements on my papers. Now I could get a real job! And the pay was a lot better, about double the entry level job. The money I was sending home wouldn't hurt so much.

Fairhope was dead as usual so I headed straight for Mobile and the Union Hall. I was barely in the door when they sent me out to a Waterman ship, the Pan Crescent, as an oiler. The Pan Crescent was an old ship, possibly of WWI vintage, an American built ship primarily for inter-coastal trade. It was not very big, maybe as much as 300 feet long, but it had a monster of an engine. In peacetime it had a regular run between Gulf and Atlantic ports. Speed was essential for success in this trade, hence the huge engine. It is worth mentioning that around the turn of the century congress passed a law prohibiting any ship not built in the U.S. from sailing between two American seaports. That is there had to be a stop at a foreign port between stops at U.S. ports. I first ran into this when I was on a Seatrain ship that had been built in Britain. It had to stop in Havana on its way between New Orleans and New York. As far as I know the law is still in effect. The Pan Crescent having been built in the U.S. therefore could be used for the inter coastal trade.

The Pan Crescent was still loading when I came aboard so we had a few days in port to kill. I became quite popular with a couple of shipmates immediatly since I had wheels and was able to scrounge a couple of gas ration coupons. As a result I discovered a side to Mobile I didn't know existed, i.e. the waterfront night life. Not that I threw myself into it, but I did observe some hard living.

There were two Seamens Unions at the time. The Seafarers International Union, affiliated with the A.F.L. and the National Maritime Union affiliated with the C.I.O. A lot of highly competitive feelings existed between them that occasionally erupted into violence. I always managed to steer clear of the action, although I was a witness to some of it so I knew how real it all was. One had to be careful not to declare allegiance until it was determined which faction was present. They simply didn't mix. A slip of the tongue could lead to a severe beating. I've seen it happen. I had a close call in one bar where only a few women were present and I didn't realize the women also took sides and were capable of violence. I got out just in time. A shame as I was just beginning to make time with an attractive afficianado of the NMU when she discovered I was a member of the enemy camp.

The few days in port enabled me to familiarize myself with the engine room of the Pan Crescent. It had essentially the same equipment as the Amelia, only bigger. The main engine was huge, as I indicated above. It was probably as large as triple expansion engines get. Any greater need for power would have been met with either two engines or quadruple expansion arrangement, and there were precious few of those around, only on very large passenger ships going back to WWI. Some time after WWI, the shipbuilders opted for turbine power as it was far more efficient and designs had become very reliable. The Liberty Ships were an artifact of WWI.

I don't remember the dimensions of the cylinders, but the smallest must have been at least 30 inches across and the largest at least seven feet. The engine room wasn't very big so the place had a very crowded feel and at times I felt claustrophobic. The auxiliaries all contributed to the noise level so one had to shout to be heard. The steam supply was from three of the largest scotch boilers I ever saw. There is no doubt in my mind that if one of them had ever blown, the ship would have been split into at least four pieces and there would have been very few survivors.

This was my first oiler job, so I was quite nervous. They put me on the 8-12 watch and I was left to swim on my own; after all, my papers said I knew my job. We pulled out of Mobile and were told our destination was the Panama Canal. There was a stopover at Guantanamo Bay, Cuba to change convoys. Again the stopover was very short and there was no shore leave, but then, no one had any interest in going ashore.

Through rather intense concentration I managed to almost do my job without incident. Unfortunatly, I forgot a few of the auxiliaries I was supposed to attend to and was called down for letting one of them overheat. In general, I became quite proficient as an oiler. I was told later that If I could successfully oil the Pan Crescent, I could confidently take on any other ship with ease. It really made me feel good and built my confidence, particularly as it was an older man with years of experience who had at some time past been a member of a Pan Crescent crew.

It was a short run from Guantanamo to the Canal Zone. We pulled in to Colon, the city at the Caribbean end of the canal, and unloaded a little cargo but weren't there long enough for much in the way of shore leave. I can't remember anything of Colon. Also I was on watch while in transition through the Canal so I didn't see very much; at any rate, what I did see left me with no significant impression.

The bulk of our cargo was destined for Panama City at the Pacific end of the Canal. Here we docked for several days so I got some time ashore. We generally went in groups, seldom alone, at least not at night. In port the oilers broke watches and worked under the direction of the First Assistant Engineer (the 1'st). Our function was generally the repair and maintenance of the operating equipment, with special attention to the main engine. Often the main engine would develop loose bearings and they would have to be disassembled and tightened up. It is difficult to describe the job of reworking a bearing on such a large piece of equipment. For example, one of the rod bearings of the crankshaft end of the connecting rod was quite massive. The lower half of the bearing was held in position by two bolts, each of which is three or four inches in diameter. The nut holding the bolt in position is equally large. The wrench used to remove the nut was about thirty pounds and one had to have a ten pound or bigger sledge hammer to loosen the nut.

Once the bearing was dropped, using a chain fall as it was entirely too heavy for a person to handle, the bearing surface, a soft metal alloy, was scraped clean and then the task of fitting the bearing back was started. This meant replacing the bearing with a thin lead wire in the gap. The clearance of the bearing could be determined by taking down the bearing again, retrieving the wire and measuring the thickness of the wire after it had been squeezed, this gave a direct measure of the clearance. The clearance had to be exact if reliable operation was to be achieved. A single bearing could take two men a full day to overhaul. The engine room is usually very hot and many a pound was lost in the effort.

An evening in town was a welcome break. In company of several of my shipmates I went to the strip of town where all the gin mills were located. It was as garish a scene as I ever witnessed. The joints were fully packed with servicemen. Evidently trouble among the servicemen was common because the Military Police(MP) and the Shore Patrol(SP) were almost overwhelming in their presence. During the peak hours, in any particular joint, there were always two coming, two going and two inside. (They always went in pairs.) They meant to keep the peace. Needless to say the competition for feminine companionship was severe. Even so I managed to make a date with a pretty little girl to go see a movie the next afternoon, Saturday.

In those days the in port work week was 44 hours. We were off from noon Saturday to Monday morning. Those on watch had to be paid overtime for any time in excess of 44 hours. At sea, everyone put in 56 hours a week without any overtime. That Saturday, I worked until lunchtime and started planning my shore time, looking forward to meeting the girl. Unfortunatly for me, right after lunch a poker game got started up in the mess room. Such a game has to be seen to be appreciated.

The room was quite crowded with some ten to twenty men at a time, counting kibitzers, and at least half of them smoking; of course we all were smoking indirectly as the ventilation left much to be desired. I don't know if you can imagine a bunch of sweaty men in a stuffy little room, most of them stripped to the waist, or no more than an undershirt, all very intent on the cards. There were always six to ten players. It was always stud as there aren't enough cards in a deck for any other kind of poker game. Stud was the choice anyway.

To refresh, or inform, stud consists of the dealer giving each player one card down and one card face up. The player with the highest card showing would start the betting. We were playing dollar limit which prevented someone with a bundle from dominating the game. The betting continued until everyone had called or dropped out. I usually quickly settled down to four or five players who felt they had a chance. After a round of betting, the dealer gave out another card, face up, to the remaining players and another round of betting took place. This kept up for four rounds when the final bets were made and called, the remaining down cards were exposed to see who won. I sat and watched for a while, as the air became filled with a blue haze, then temptation took hold and I took a hand in the game:

The dealer chanted, as he started dealing the faceup cards: "Jack, deuce, round head, five, ..... Jack high."

"Two bits."

"Call."

"Gotta see one more."

"I'm in."

"I'm out."

Dealer: "nine, six, pair of fives, ten, king, pair bets."

"Fifty cents."

"See you."

"Me too."

"Got a straight working, can't leave that."

"Out."

Dealer: "Lady, bullet with the fives, six jack, fives still high."

"Lets keep em all honest, the ace looks good, dollar."

"Forget it."

"And a dollar."

"Can't quit now, call."

I'm in."

Dealer: "Three, eight, king a pair, kings bet."

"Dollar."

"Someday I'll learn not to draw to an inside straight." As he turns his cards.

"And a dollar."

"Oops! Well can't back out now, call."

Turns out the fives had company from a five in the hole and the kings were paired with two sevens so the three fives picked up the pot.

There was always a general murmur of conversation, often between two players, sometimes to everybody or nobody in particular. In a limit game, such as this which was dollar limit, a player found it diffucult to bluff because a wrong guess didn't end the game for an individual. With high stakes, one hand could break a player, or make him, as the case may be. For this reason, players tended to take unwise gambles as any one penalty would not be too severe. Unfortunatly for the player, unwise gambles just made it take longer for him to lose all his money as staying when not right could easily become a habit.

The Pan Crescent had four holds with two steam winches per hold as per usual for a freighter. The Deck Engineer, a top rated unlicensed man, was responsible for all deck equipment being in good working order. During the day, while unloading, he would faithfully check and lubricate all the machinery. After regular hours, an oiler was assigned to take over and usually got paid overtime. During the poker game this particular evening, Max was on duty, but he was also an invertate and skilled poker player and the temptation was too great for him, so he solved the dilemma by yielding to temptation, ignoring the deck machinery. The Deck Engineer had gone ashore and couldn't check on how the work was going. However there is always an Engineer on duty at all times on a ship and the 1'st Assisstant was standing watch at this time.

The 1'st was at least 50 years old, although he seemed older to me. He was a big man of obvious Scandinavian extraction and required very thick glasses. He had a weatherbeaten face and iron grey hair. Clearly a no nonsense type. He stuck his head in the messroom and asked Max (not me, thank goodness) who was on deck (meaning who was oiling the winches) and Max said "J. C." "Oh," said the 1'st and he left. An hour later he came back and repeated the question and got the same answer. Again in an hour he came back with the same question but then he asked who was J.C.? Max said, "Jesus Christ." We didn't see Max again that evening.

I learned two important lessons that a novice must learn if he is to enjoy an occasional game of poker. First, when you are beat, turn over and second, never - never - never draw to an inside straight. I lost my last dime.

In a very disgruntled mood I left the game and never got ashore to keep my date. The next day, Sunday, I managed to borrow a few dollars and wandered up and down the strip and ran into the girl. My reception was cool to say the least. I tried to explain what happened; she was very unsympathetic but I did manage to get her to agree to meet me that evening and we would go to a show. I am sure you have guessed the outcome this time; I was the one that got stood up.

The next day we pulled out and headed back to Mobile. The trip back was uneventful. I became very comfortable in the job and felt I could handle myself effectivly. Great for the ego.

We had been gone barely a month but I wasn't too happy with the prospect of shuttling around the Caribbean Sea on such a rust bucket, so I signed off. I bought a couple of shirts and headed for New Orleans again.

This time I stayed with the McArthurs for my visit to New Orleans. My old girl friend had gone back to her husband so on a chance I picked up the phone and made contact with Pat Doyle, one of the prettiest girls I ever dated. Pat was from a large Irish Catholic family but that didn't deter her from dating me. We were the same age, twenty, and I really enjoyed her company but I made it obvious that I was avoiding entanglements.

I didn't have much money as I had been on the Pan Crescent only a month, so it wasn't long before I was down at the Union Hall looking for another ship.

AMELIA ...old freighters never die, they just rust away...

CHARLES HENDERSON ...where I find the British social structure to be strictly from hunger...