While we are on the subject of my early childhood, I thought I might look up the old ship on which I travelled to NZ as a child, the TSS Captain Cook, formerly the Letitia.

At one time, she was a hospital ship. 

When we were on board, she was white, as above left. On the right is a shot
of her in Wellington Harbour some time prior to our voyage.  I
understand she caught fire in Wellington in 1957, and I think that may
have been the voyage before ours, because I have a distinct memory of Dad telling Mum something about it as we
looked down on her from a hill in Glasgow and that she had been refitted. I remember wondering what
refitted was.  Also I recall that on hearing the news, Mum avowed she was not going on board, and Dad having to talk her into it.  That was after a strange breakfast of
awful salty porridge, following an overnight train ride from London on which I remember reading my Rupert Bear Annual (which from my
research appears to have been the 1955 Annual) -I recognised the cover
instantly I saw it again. See that balloon in the top right corner?  That fascinated me….

The internet is great, isn’t it?

And I remember looking out the window as we passed level crossings in the dark.   It
all comes back. 

To be continued….  watch out for "T
ravels on the Captain Cook"…


About Uisce úr

Though I am old with wandering Through hollow lands and hilly lands, I will find out where she has gone, And kiss her lips and take her hands; And walk among long dappled grass, And pluck till time and times are done, The silver apples of the moon, The golden apples of the sun.
This entry was posted in Autobiography. Bookmark the permalink.

Please comment!

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s