Progress both affected me, and did not affect me at sea. I qualified in 1960, before transistors even came into the syllabus, and fully understood valve circuits, and could service them easily. Same for radar, but I didn't take my radar certificate until 1968, qualifying in the last exam before valves were taken out of the syllabus. I progressed from colliers to ocean liners without much fuss, and in 1973, was 2nd out of 4 aboard RMS Pendennis Castle, a large mail steamer on the UK – South Africa run. The company then sent me on an Advanced Marine Electronics course to the Southampton College of Technology. It was totally beyond me to understand any of the theory, although I put in a lot of effort. After three months of the six month course, I gave up and walked out. I was told by the college head,that my career was in ruins, and I would end up a failure – but I didn't care! I decided there and then that never again would I study the theory of electronics. Initially, much to everyones' surprise, I got promoted to chief radio officer on board the mailship RMS Good Hope Castle, where I served for two years, developing a greater dislike for the increasing amount of electronic junk that was being foisted on us, although I could still manage all the servicing by experience and guesswork, and that didn't go down well with the "whizz kids!" The company decided to get out of shipping in 1977 and sold all the passenger liners, and began running down the cargo fleet. I resigned and moved to a tramp company that had no interest in sending me to college, and served in three ships with them. The first a 4-year-old bulk carrier, followed by a newbuild at Cammell Lairds, Birkenhead, and then another brand new cargo ship fresh from the Hiroshima shipyards. In 1979, I discovered an obscure Cornish company that had obtained a small 3,150 ton Canadian coaster, 16 years old, and got the British Government contract to take over the Cape Mail passenger cargo service from the defunct Union-Castle Mail Steamship Co. I managed to get the job, where I found to my delight that the company could not care less about my lack of fancy electronic diplomas. By 1990, the ship was 27 years old, and worn out. The government subsidised a brand new St Helena of 6,500 tons with 132 passengers, and we all transferred. So despite my lack of diplomas and theoretical knowledge, plus an obstinate refusal to study anything beyond the practical repair of all the latest gear, I ended up aboard the most modern and expensive British passenger liner (per ton) ever built at that time. And there I remained until taking voluntary redundancy at the end of 1992, aged 48, after 32 years at sea. I took the redundancy when offered, because it had been internationally agreed to dispense with seagoing radio officers on a World-wide scale within the next few years, which they did. By that time, I was ready to put my long-standing plans into operation and become a full-time ship model builder, writer and MN historian. Some of you will be aware that my writing career began many years ago in the Model Boats Magazine, and progressed to my wife and I forming Shelterdeck Publishing in 2014. So – by sticking my head in the sand, I did not ruin my career at all, and ended up at the top, rather than the bottom of my career. The ship is as famous as Cunard's Queens (Look it up in Google) Here is the film of the final sailing from St Helena last year:
Bob **LINK**