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Blackfoot Boy
by Terry Lowndes
410 pages; perfect bound; catalogue #02-0268; ISBN 1-55369-455-4; US$23.50, C$36.50
Tales of a traveller - from Brighton to Bangkok, from Saudi to Singapore.
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About the Book
A memoir starting in post war Brighton, England, (1952,) when I was 4 years old. The author takes the reader across the sea to New Zealand, on an assisted passage immigration ship. It details his early years growing up in 50's New Zealand, his fathers early death, and returning to an England he despised. From here the author describes his teenage years in 60's England, his troubles with the law, and being forced to join the Royal Navy in it's last years of harsh discipline, and officers who lorded it over the lower deck sailors. Leaving the Navy our subject becomes a truck driver, and is employed on a Middle East trucking route. Travelling through the Iron curtain countries of Europe, and eventually arriving in his Middle East destination, the Author describes his trips, and the people that he met along the way. From being robbed at gunpoint in Turkey, to using forged documentation in order to transit International borders, the writer takes you into a world most people will not have been to. London gangsters, who almost took over the International freight business in Europe, and the punishments they meted out to those drivers that abandoned their loads in the harsh conditions, will be described. The authors migration from the regular transport business, to the deserts of the Sahara, in Libya. Hauling heavy loads of cement and hydrochloric acid, to the rigs drilling out in the remotest areas. His graduation to becoming an engineer, the wild parties, the drugs and booze, and of course the women. This book takes you on a journey, from Brighton to Bangkok, from Singapore to Saudi, and is only half the story of a consummate wanderer.
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Reviews of Blackfoot Boy
"A complex story of a young boy taken from cold post war England to the delights of a life in New Zealand, only to have uproot again and return to his country of birth. Forced through circumstances to join Her Majesty's Royal Navy the antics and life in a blue suit are graphically detailed. A must for anyone who served in Her Majesty's forces in the 60's and 70's and an eye opener for those who wished they had. Highly recommended, can't put down reading."
John Rummery
(Ex RN )
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"Blackfoot Boy is a totally engrossing, unforgettable, personal adventure. This well written story encompasses the Authors life from a tumultuous childhood in England and New Zealand, to his naughty, but fun filled antics in the military. A joy to read!!!! "
Kathy Perry
(Student)
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From childhood in New Zealand to manhood in Britain and beyond. This is a tale of one man's life as he lived it. Sometimes tough, always entertaining. The Royal Navy stories graphically illustrate the class system which prevailed in the Royal Navy of the sixties and seventies. His life then continues in the tough world of international truck driving in the Middle East, going through places normal sane people would stay away from. And then on to oil exploration work in the Libyan desert. A good rollicking read. Some part of it will strike a chord in every one who reads it. Highly recommended for all ex servicemen. John Crawford
(EX RN and Retired Cop)
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About the Author
Terry Lowndes was born in England in 1948. He immigrated to New Zealand with his family at age four. Terry returned to England eight years later, on his fathers death. Finished Education in Brighton, Sussex, England. Joined Royal Navy as boy seamen in 1964, and traveled extensively. On release from the Navy he worked as truck driver in England, eventually graduating to International overland routes to Middle East destinations, and then to Heavy Haulage, Trans Sahara trucking in Libya. Shifting from driving, to working on oil drilling rigs worldwide, he returned to school, then joined the Engineering Division of major oilfield service company in Libya. Also worked on oilfield operations, in Southern England, Sinai Desert, and Egypt. Moved to USA in 1985. Now happily married to wife Kathy, and living in North West Florida.
Sample Excerpts
On another occasion we were in dry-dock in Singapore and the First Lieutenant sent for me one morning.
He said that while we were in dry-dock, I, as the NILE (Naval Inflatable Liferaft Equipment) rating should check out the liferafts. I pointed out that we were in dry-dock, the decks were littered with people and equipment, and that there was no room to unpack them on the already cluttered decks. I suggested that we have one of the dockyard cranes pick them up and put them on the jetty where I'd have more room to work, and the risk of damage to them would be much less. He said that he didn't think that would be necessary, and told me to do the check right there on the Fo'c'sle. I then went on to explain that because the rafts were stored outside of the guardrails I would need help to get them inboard.
He told me to get up with the buffer, and he'd provide the help I needed.Now Dickey (our buffer) was normally a very nice guy, but on this particular day he was under a lot of pressure to get all these different jobs done, and didn't have enough hands to do it all. He was already annoyed that I had left his work detail to spend time on the liferafts. When I asked him if I could further reduce his workforce, and on top of that get in the way of everyone working on the Fo'c'sle with my equipment, he went ballistic.
I said "fuck it then," and went down the messdeck for a cup of tea. I couldn't lift the fucking things on my own and I'd told everyone what I was ordered to do, and nobody gave a rats ass, so I wasn't going to worry either. About twenty minutes later Dicky came down the mess apologized, and told me that the Jimmy (1st lieutenant) was driving him nuts with all these stupid jobs that had to be done, and why didn't I take my rafts onto the jetty to work on them because they would be directly in his way on the Fo'c'sle. I told him that I'd already suggested that, and Jimmy had said no. We both agreed that he was a fucking idiot of Royal proportions, and Dicky said I could have Mc Spew to help me.Mc Spew was a fucking, great hand, and I loved him dearly. He was fairly tall with dark short hair, and hailed from somewhere in London. He had this great personality and almost everyone loved Mc Spew. I say almost everyone, that is with the exception of John Dunkley. Mc Spews real name was McHugh, but one night when we came offshore after a few too many drinks, he collapsed onto Dunkleys bunk unable to make it to his own. In the night he awoke and realized that he needed to puke, but being so drunk that he couldn't stand up, let alone climb a ladder to the next deck where the bathroom was located, he simply slid out the drawer under Dunkleys bunk and filled it with puke, closing it when he had completed his task. When Dunkley came offshore the next morning and went to get changed into his work clothes, he went to his drawer and found that someone had left a deposit. Needless to say he wasn't to pleased, and put poor old Mc Spew on 1st lieutenants report, for which he was awarded seven days number nines, and had his name changed forever by the rest of the boys.
Mc Spew and I went up to the Fo'c'sle to see how we were going to get these two liferafts inboard. They were inside rigid white plastic containers about the size of two oil drums. These protected them from the elements and there was a small quick release buckle holding them in position. Now Mc Spew was in a hurry because Dicky had told him not to take too long and just to help me get them inboard and on to the Fo'c'sle. For this reason we didn't take the precaution of putting a line around them to ensure they didn't fall outboard. And that's exactly what happened.
At this time the ship was encased in scaffolding made from tied together pieces of bamboo in typical Chinese fashion. On the scaffold were approximately 20 Chinese coolies who were painting the side of the ship. Each coolie had a five gal bucket of Pussers grey paint, with long handled rollers and a variety of brushes. The white liferaft container lodged between the scaffold and the ship, and was supported by a thick rope that attached to the ship. When the raft had reached the end of its inflating lanyard, the CO2 cylinders had been activated, and as we watched this huge orange monster, at first, shucked off its white shell, and then continued to grow, slowly forcing the scaffold away from the ships side.
The coolies stood and stared at first, not believing what was happening, and then as the realization dawned on them they began to abandon the scaffold just as fast as they could climb to the bottom. As they scurried down five gal buckets of grey paint, brushes, and long handled rollers, rained down on top of them, and eventually the whole Starboard side scaffold collapsed, as the orange monster exerted her strength. Fortunately no one was injured, but everyone on the upperdeck was more than highly amused, and some even told me later that it was the funniest thing they had ever seen. What really made everyone's day was Mc Spews comment to the Jimmy, who was not amused at all by what he had just witnessed.
Mc Spew looked up to the bridge wing where the Jimmy was standing, and announced in all seriousness that the starboard raft seemed to be functioning OK, and we all creased up laughing. That little episode cost us three days nines.
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I duly attended the trick cyclist office, and met with this Navy doctor who told me that he was going to ask me a series of questions about my past, and what I envisaged my future held in store. I thought the whole thing was fucking stupid, after all I wasn't insane, I just didn't give a shit. As he asked me the questions I tried to give the most ridiculous answers I could think of, and as the examination went on I could tell he was becoming annoyed with me. He accused me of not taking it seriously and I had to agree, which pissed him off more. He finally asked me if I had any ambitions at all, and I told him it was my dream to be able to roll a tickler (cigarette) left handed, whilst simultaneously driving a milk cart. He just looked up at me and said, "Get the hell, out of my office."
Catalogue Information
CIP: National Library of Canada Cataloguing in Publication Lowndes, Terry, 1948-Blackfoot boy / Terry Lowndes. ISBN 1-55369-455-41. Lowndes, Terry, 1948-. 2. Engineers--Biography. 3. Truck drivers--Biography. 4. Petroleum workers--Biography. 5. Great Britain. Royal Navy--Biography. 6. British Americans--Florida--Biography. I. Title. TA140.L69A3 2002 620'.0092 C2002-902118-9