Biography of Jim Wilson

JIM WILSON, C.Eng., M.I.Mar.E.

 

EARLY YEARS

Jim was born on the 29^th of September 1927, the second child and first son of James and Elizabeth Wilson, then of 25 Ladysmith Street on the outskirts of the Longhill Estate.  This was situated close by the North Works of the South Durham Steel & Iron Co.,  where his father worked as a clerk.  Jim Wilson had an early introduction to the sea.  His father would often hire a fishing coble from Middleton and young Jim accompanied him as soon as he was old enough.  There were trips to see the Royal Navy battle-cruiser “Hood” (6-9^th September 1932) and Hartlepool’s prehistoric submerged forest of Longscar Rocks.  Another memory was of the German airship “Graf Zeppelin” which flew over the Hartlepools on 19 August 1931, its massive engines rattling the windows of the Wilsons’ home at 7 Elcho Street.

 

SCHOOLING AND BOYHOOD

Jim attended Lynnfield and Elwick Road schools.  He was an active child, playing football and cricket for the school teams, as goalkeeper and wicket keeper respectively, coming in to bat at “first-wicket down.”  During the inter-war years Jim’s father was convinced that further conflict with Germany was inevitable.  As a result, he put his eldest son through a punishing fitness regime as preparation.  This included running on the sands with a rucksack full of bricks!  Jim Wilson was one of the Lynnfield school team that won the junior cricket league and cup in 1939.

Young Jim was never comfortable with the heavy hand of authority and determined to leave school at the earliest opportunity.   Schools of Jim’s era were militaristic in nature and Lynnfield particularly so.  The school hall boasted prints of the German battle-cruiser “Blucher,” a participant in the Bombardment of the Hartlepools, sinking at the Battle of the Dogger Bank and Lady Butler’s “Charge of the Scots Greys” at Waterloo.  Even so, Jim managed to pick up prizes for drawing and craftsmanship.  Jim might not have liked school, but he always enjoyed learning and was an avid collector and reader of books on maritime and technical subjects.

Jim was determined to become a marine engineer like his uncles and grandfather.  He deliberately flunked his scholarship in order that the extra two years of study this would otherwise have entailed should not delay his entry into the engineering industry – and also to avoid staying on at school!  The decision met with no small disapproval from his mother and when he swaggered off for his first day at work, age 14 and in a boiler suit far too big for him, she was heartbroken.

Always wilful, Jim’s determination to pursue a goal is demonstrated by a story from the war.  He was out collecting sea coal one morning for his parents with an old pram when he spotted a wireless-telegraphy set washed up on the beach.  It seems to have come from a German bomber shot down in Hartlepool Bay.  The area, however, was mined and cordoned off.  Jim was intent on the trophy, other children contenting themselves with bits of shrapnel and the like.  After creeping under the barbed wire he was successful.  No mines exploded on that occasion – but his mother did when she learned of the exploit!

 

PRE-APPRENTICESHIP: J. J. HARDY & Co.

In 1973 Jim wrote an account of his first job as a fitting-shop boy at J. J. Hardy’s brass-founders, “Old Hartlepool,” and extracts are as follows:

“From the tender age of nine years I wanted to be an engineer.  I joined the local Public Library by lying about my age (one was supposed to be eleven).  As soon as I could . . . I was reading Macgibbon’s and Sothern’s marine engineering books.  As a consequence, I understood a fair amount of the technology of the steam engine before I started work at the age of fourteen years.

“During the schooling of my era one was taught discipline and regimented obedience (i.e. the class system of ‘obeyers and obeyed’).  The ‘bosses’ and ‘men’ both called each other b------s . . . little realising that each were only human beings all having personal commitments of varying degrees.

“The area in which I was born was predominantly marine- engineering and shipbuilding based.  The U-boat campaign was at its height, and with this as a back-cloth I set out to my job at a small brass-founders and engineering shop in the autumn of 1941.

“First things first.  The manager, a Mr. Walker, showed me into his office.  Every morning at 8 am I was to set and light the coal fires in his and the accountant’s offices (upstairs), followed by sweeping out of the small fitting shop – occupied by one old fitter-turner, three lathes, one boring machine and two drilling machines.  In addition I had to learn to use the two smaller of the unoccupied lathes.  My function at 12 noon and 5 pm was, on the hour, to ring the bell that signalled finishing times for ‘dinner’ and ‘tea. . . .’

“Every night on completion of work one had to fill in a time-board.  This piece of unhygienic material was a piece of wood with the personal works number stamped on and whitewashed on one side (whitewash! – a mixture of spit and chalk allowed to dry). . . .

“The original intention of the manager was to allow me six weeks in which to learn to use the lathe, but in the tool cupboard of this machine I found some pre-war copies of the “Model Engineer” with an article on how to make a model crankshaft.  I armed myself with this, a piece of scrap steel bar and considerable tutelage from Mr. [Thomas] Appleton, the old fitter-turner.  After three weeks the manager walked out into the shop, watched me using the machine and posed the question: ‘What’s that you’re making?’  Informing him that it was a model crankshaft, my enthusiasm was dampened somewhat on being told: ‘OK, you can use it.  Now chuck that out, I’ve got a job for you.’

“I still recall the job I was given to do.  It was to machine the ‘dogs’ off a steam winch clutch for a collier, the s.s. “Melbourne.”  After this there followed a succession of jobs and I became proficient in the use of tools etc. – the most prominent [job] being a potato-peeling machine for a local fish-and-chip shop, another (more sophisticated) potato-peeling machine for a restaurant (this m/c required new [bearing] ball-races) and a piece-work contract for the Admiralty.  The latter consisted of drilling and tapping 150 ¼” diameter holes (through a jig supplied by the Admiralty) in ¼” thick armour plate, to cover the engine-room skylights of armed trawlers and minesweepers (considered necessary after several aerial machine-gunning incidents in the North Sea).

“This period before my apprenticeship provided me with good experience, tempered by ‘light reliefs’ such as every Friday going for Mr. Appleton’s five ‘Manikin’ cigars and two ounces of ‘Stag: snuff, for which he gave me 6d pocket money . . . and, with the shop-boy from the brass-finishing department, obtaining, for the manager 40 ‘Players’ cigarettes per day.  Not so easy as it sounds, because shopkeepers rationed their customers.  But as we scrounged round the ‘old part’ shopkeepers soon got to know us and we didn’t do so badly (picking up the smoking habit ourselves in the process).

“Mr. Appleton . . . proved to be a craftsman of the highest order.  Amongst various teachings he showed me how to make, harden and grind lathe tools and chisels from plain tool steel bar, also pressure gauge making, all of which I found served me well later in my career.  Incidentally, every gauge he tested and set he marked on the back cover his initials and the date.  Many years later I received a rare surprise.

“Labour relations in this small works were quite good.  The men called the manager ‘Tot’ and he called them by first names, the only cloud in the sky was when the chairman came to visit.  Then it was as though a step backwards had been taken and the relationship was one local squire and his tenants. . . .

“Having applied for an apprenticeship at a local marine engineering works when I was twelve years old and having been accepted, I left the small works with slight regret and, armed with the experience obtained there, stepped forth to serve my time at sixteen years of age.”

 

 

 

APPRENTICESHIP: CENTRAL MARINE ENGINE WORKS

Jim served his five-year apprenticeship at the Central Marine Engine Works of Wm. Gray & Co., West Hartlepool from 1943-48.  Of this he wrote that his:

“apprenticeship was served at the only self-contained engineering works in the whole area, in that it had its own brass foundry, iron foundry, boiler shop and bar shop, plus a forge.  It even manufactured studs, nuts and bolts.  The only bought-out items were raw materials – steel slab, bar and rod, coke and pig iron for the iron foundry etc.

“Indentures read like a page from a Dickens novel – ‘Will obey the master’s lawful commands’ etc. . . . everything on the side of ‘the master.’ . . . Unfortunately, the firm did not survive the crunch in shipbuilding in the early 1960’s, but what a place to learn a trade.  There will never be another works like it . . . the finest on the NE coast.  One started as a revenue-earning unit straight away on the shop floor, it being the policy . . . for apprentices to have at least 18 months turning work on centre and chuck lathes to start with.  On my first day I was put with another youth who was working a large chuck-lathe turning the fork-end pins to fine tolerances on a set of tug engine valve-gear slide bars.  My previous experience showed, and the youth who was to teach me was shifted elsewhere after only two days instead of the usual week.  Discipline was very harsh.  The management closed its eyes to ‘the herd’ having a drink of tea at 10 am.  No one dare move to put their tea cans on the fire for a warm until old ‘Monty’ the Works Manager had his walk round the works between 9 and 10 am.

“Very occasionally someone stole a march on the rest and put a can on the fire before 9 am.  If Monty saw a can there he would stand by the fire until the tea can boiled over, and then walk away with a smile on his face.  I don’t think any such incident ‘made his day,’ . . . he was just demonstrating who was boss.”

 On the signing of Jim’s indentures the Works manager, Mr. Marmont (“Monty”) Warren, known as “Buddha” due to his corpulent physique, concluded with a “Well  son, make yourself into a good engineer.”  “Yes Mr. Warren,” replied Jim, dutifully, and promptly did exactly that.

Later, in 1992/93 Jim wrote of his marine-engineering apprenticeship that:

“Over the eighteen months spent in the Machine Shops, machined parts increased in complexity until one was a competent machinist with the ability to work to fine tolerances from workshop drawings.  Then started the fitting phase of your apprenticeship.

To increase production the main propulsion engines were divided into sub-assemblies where possible, and the engines erected as a whole unit in the Engine Erecting Shops.  It was the practice of the Company’s Apprenticeship Programme to work on the sub-assemblies on a rota system in the shop, and then work on the whole engine assembly and erection.  This being good practice as one learned the whole process of engine manufacture from marking off and lining out to completion. 

The rota system applied in the various designated workshops throughout the works.  The Auxiliaries Shop manufactured . . . plant for marine and land use and dealt with reciprocating pumps, centrifugal pumps, feed-water heaters, coolers, evaporators, ash-hoist systems, valves and small condensers.

“On reaching the last years of your apprenticeship one was sent to the Fitting Out Department concerning the fitting of plant and machinery into ships.  On completion, the plant and machinery was tested to satisfy Classification Society surveyors  and a seaworthiness certificate issued.  The ship was . . . taken to sea and full power trials conducted.  Usually on sea trials six apprentices were available in the engine room, and with the number of ships being built at that time it was not unusual to attain three trial trips before completion of your apprenticeship. . . .

“During the course of your apprenticeship the apprentice had contact with all the offices and workshops, gaining valuable knowledge and experience of other processes although not directly involved.  Retrospectively one would consider the outstanding merit of the engineering apprenticeship was to instil confidence and attain the skills to perform the given task.”

Jim makes no mention of the long hours, attendance at night-school and hard physical labour that was expected, in the latter case such as tightening up enormous propeller nuts with a sledgehammer.  In an interview with the “Yorkshire Post” newspaper (11^th January 1988) he also commented that fitting-out conditions were often terrible: “When I was at Gray’s they didn’t even have electric light [for work aboard ship].  The first thing you did in the morning was to draw two candles from the stores.  You had to use them everywhere, even in the bottom of a boiler – you can imagine what it was like.”

Jim continues that:

“The fifth year of my apprenticeship was the year in which I had my first full responsibilities.  The ship on which I was working at the time [the s.s. “Erik Banck”] was nearing completion and was due to go on sea trials before handover to the customer, when the fitting out workforce decided to go on strike.

“Being a ‘bound’ apprentice and at that time a senior . . . I was requested to choose six other apprentices and take the ship to sea on sea trials by the Departmental Manager and Foreman and thus under their guidance and with the instruction of the Lloyd’s surveyor we completed successful sea trails and the ship was handed over to the customer on time.”

 

 

ENGINEER-OFFICER IN THE MERCHANT NAVY

Jim writes that unbeknownst to him he was due to be transferred to the design office.  However, he had already applied to Ellerman’s City Line for a position as a seagoing engineer and had been accepted.  Whilst visiting the offices he’d noticed a broken windowpane.  A shaft of brilliant sunlight shone through the little hole, and in it were illuminated a thousand tiny dust particles.  It was then that he made up his mind to go to sea.  He was interviewed and accepted as an engineer-officer in the Merchant Navy at Middlesbrough’s Mercantile Marine Office on 9 October 1948.

Jim subsequently sailed as a Junior Engineer aboard Ellerman’s “City of Canterbury” and the Clan Line’s “Clan Macrae.”  The former, a passenger ship, sailed from the UK to East Africa via the Cape of Good Hope, her main port of call being Capetown.  The latter, a cargo liner, steamed out to Australia via the Suez Canal. This meant a passage through the dull-grey Atlantic to Gibraltar, then into the sunny Mediterranean.  Anchored at Port Said, the ship would be surrounded by bustling “bum-boats” selling their dubious wares and there too was the song of the Arab “coolies” as they set about their labours and the wailing cry of a holy man, floating out from a sun-bleached minaret and calling the faithful to prayer.  After passing through the Suez Canal the ship made for the arid port of Aden, passing through the Straits of Bab-el-Mandeb (the “Bridge of Tears”), with its flying fish.

 Jim’s seagoing career included the usual nautical adventures, including:

(1)   Putting on a canvas diving suit, with brass helmet and lead boots, to inspect a damaged propeller in the Indian Ocean.  He volunteered and was swung overboard in a shark cage.

(2)   Taking part in a sea rescue when a sister ship lost her rudder in the Bay of Biscay.

(3)   Foiling a smuggling plot to incriminate ships’ officers.

(4)   Nearly being lost when his ship encountered a tempest in the Indian Ocean.

With regard to the latter, Jim well remembered the terrible, howling violence of that storm.  To hear him tell it was almost to have been there with him.  You felt the crazy motion of the deck under your feet, the ship shuddering and reverberating as giant 60-ft waves crashed against her.  You saw, as Jim had seen, the paint flaking away from around the rivet-heads as hull plates worked against each other.  You felt the tension and the fear – and the need not to show it.  Finally, Jim described the eerie serenity that followed in the wake of that furious tempest.

Notably, Jim had a lifelong hatred of the South African authorities for their treatment of blacks.  He regularly courted trouble during his visits to South Africa and on one occasion was fined for assaulting a sergeant in a South African police station.  It was Jim’s birthday and he’d been out drinking ashore with shipmates. 

Deciding to make his way back to the docks he was picked up by the local constabulary and taken in for some rough questioning by the desk sergeant.  Jim responded with a flying head-butt that settled the obese policeman but was then subject to a thorough ‘working over’ by the man’s colleagues.  Slung in a cell, he got talking to the other inmate.  This man happened to be a white club-owner who was frequently harassed by the authorities due to his favourable treatment of black employees.  After giving him his card, the man sent Jim round to his club upon his release the next day and it was there that Jim’s injuries were treated.

The incident was later reported in the local newspaper as “Drunken Scotsman on Birthday Spree!”  Jim’s name was also given as “Wilson James” (in the style he’d answered the magistrate).  During his court appearance Jim was asked if he wished an officer to speak for him.  “But I am an officer!” protested an outraged Jim, to the amusement of the court.  Given a choice between hard labour and a fine, he opted for the latter.  Jim later discovered that the desk sergeant was an ex Nazi SS NCO.

Jim was always very handy with his fists, being taught to box by Terry Allen, a childhood friend that later lost an arm in a shunting accident on the railway.  A second noteworthy incident concerned the knocking-out of a particularly offensive drunk on the platform at Euston Station – to the polite applause of onlookers!

In one of his letters home, sent from London’ Royal Albert Dock and dated 4-12-48, Jim wrote that he wished his younger brother could have seen Liverpool Docks:

“when the fog cleared there was nearly 60 ships that we counted, it was like being in a convoy.  As soon as it lifted it was Up Anchor and the devil take the hindmost. . . . In one of my shipping books you will see a photo of the liner “Canton;” well she passed us inward bound with passengers from the Far East.  There’s Ellerman Wilson ships, Brocklebanks, B.I. (British India), P & O, Blue Star, Shaw Savill & Albion, Union Castle, Royal Mail, Cunard and the “Umaria” of the BI, built by us, has just come in.”

 In another letter, sent from Durban and written on 15.1.49 he wrote: “How I will get this letter posted I do not know.  There are big riots on here.  The Zulus are attacking the Hindus. . . . Our crew are not allowed ashore.”  He continues that he’s seen a white policeman “with his head crushed in from a blow by a knobkerrie” and also a Hindu, whilst “One poor feller” was “dragged along by his feet over cobbles” being kicked and battered.  The night before had been pay night and the black dockers “were crazed with illicit beer and daggu, a drug like hashish. . . . The carpenter was coming back to the ship last night and had to drop flat when the Hindus started shooting at Zulu dockers.  There’s a sort of deathly silence over the place – it’s a bloody awful feeling.  We are shifting ship over toward a native quarter so I’m stopping aboard where I am safe.  Everybody is just hanging round the street corners waiting for something to happen. . . . . You should see them chanting war songs and shouting war cries like this Yi-yi-yi-yooeee.”  

 Jim was specially commended for his efficiency during his time aboard the “City of Canterbury” and wrote of his time at sea that:

“Virtually no training was given and more or less you were expected to know what you were doing.  My first appointment was ‘days at sea’ – ‘nightshift in port.’  On ‘nights,’ which lasted from 7pm to 7am some of the machinery and plant was running the whole time in port, and it was your duty to check temperatures, pressures and oversee the lubrication (attended by a greaser) and the working boilers with what was known as a ‘Donkeyman.’  The company I joined had ethnic crews but fortunately an ex-engineer of the British India Steamship Company taught me some Hindustani during my apprenticeship and I was able to communicate effectively with them.

“Later when promoted to watch-keeping engineer, a daily log was kept which was meticulously completed each watch, and a voyage report on the performance of the plant and machinery.  Although at that time no formal planned maintenance was carried out, what would probably termed “discretionary” maintenance in foreign ports, planned by the Chief Engineer and implemented by ourselves (the ship’s engineers) to prevent breakdowns and prepare for the voyage home, was used.”

Having an enquiring mind, Jim decided that a continued career at sea, and “the maintenance of old machinery,” was not for him.

 

“RICHIES”

 Jim Wilson was very proud of “serving his time” at “the Central,” but it was said of him that if you cut him through the middle you’d find “Richardsons, Westgarth” printed there like a stick of rock!  Jim joined R.W. as a fitter in 1951 and was quickly promoted to supervisory level.  He wrote that:

“I was concerned with constructing marine [steam] turbines . . .” also fitting them aboard tankers built by the Furness Shipyard at Haverton Hill.  He also performed over-speed shop tests and worked on the “land side,” of which Jim wrote that: “The company built Brown-Boveri turbo-alternators for power stations and was very successful,” their machinery producing 550 MW from a single shaft.  For Jim the years 1956 to 1966 were “an exciting era of change and progression and being involved in the developments taking place was very rewarding.”

Engine erection planning was one of Jim’s responsibilities but, again, no formal training was given in supervisory duties, employers relying upon “professional skills, ability, judgment and common sense. . . .”  Jim did note, however, the quality assurance scheme introduced by the Central Electricity Generating Board, a Work Study scheme and various RW standards that were documented with regard to fabrication, pipework erection etc.  

 Jim wrote that: “until around 1956 commercial marine propulsion units were standardised at around 8,500 shaft-horse-power,” rising within ten years to 29,500 s.h.p.  There were “occasional attendances at sea trials, guarantee surveys and Classification Society surveys as company representative engineer.  During these periodic visits to various engines [on the Tyne, for example] it was the practice to ‘open up’ the turbines to inspect the blading and internals.

“The overhauling equipment used to support the top half of the cylinders was cast iron, as was the rotor guides, and was very heavy to position on the bottom half cylinder joint.  I resolved to redesign this equipment at the earliest opportunity.  On investigating the design of these items I found that [it] originated from an Admiralty design dated 1905.  With the advent of welded steel fabrication using thick-wall steel tubing and . . . plate, weight was reduced by half on both items for a similar strength-cost factor and was adopted for future sets.”

In 1953 Jim supervised the erection and fitting of main machinery for the tanker “Melika.”  This vessel was later involved in an incident, as referred to by Peter Hogg in his history of Richardsons, Westgarth.  She was abandoned while steaming by her crew owing to a fire, being recovered by the Royal Navy.  A survey at Bombay revealed that in spite of the main machinery not having been progressively cooled as a result of her emergency shut-down, the shaft alignment remained perfect.  Hogg writes that this was testament to the high quality of British marine engineering at RW.

Jim is pictured on p. 62 of Hogg’s book, working on a high-pressure turbine rotor in boiler-suit and characteristic white roll-neck jersey.  In addition to steam turbines, whilst at “Richies” Jim also worked on North-Eastern Marine Doxford diesel engines built by RW between 1945 and 1957.

In 1957 Jim was involved in repairs to the tanker “Raudhatain” at South Shields.   Built by Furness Shipbuilding on Teesside, her steam turbines were supplied by RW (Hartlepool).  Jim was to work on this ship once more, this time in 1964 for a refit in conjunction with the ship managers (Watts, Watts & Co.) and consulting engineers Silley, Cox & Co. of Falmouth.

During his time at “Richies” Jim was “seconded as liaison between RW and Parsons Marine Steam Turbine Co. (which Richardsons had acquired).”  He worked with a gear specialist, Professor Newman, at Parson and Marine Engine Turbine Research and Development Association (PAMETRADA).  Jim wrote that he was: “present at various development trials which included high speed bearings, triple wedge bearings [used in very high speed machinery], blading tests (steam and gas turbines).”  He continues that whilst at PAMETRADA he was also involved in development work concerning a nodal drive system for articulated gear-sets.  The interleaved split-secondary double-reduction gearing used by RW was superseded in the mid-1950s by Parsons’ articulated tandem gear-sets, providing extra flexibility between the primary and secondary gears.  This type was subsequently used in all RW marine installations. 

“In addition to my supervisory duties, as prototype work developed for marine and land rotating machinery the erecting shop which I supervised constructed machinery up to 30 MW . . . all prototype work was under my direct supervision, notable contracts were: (1) Marine turbine sets . . . with articulated gearing and nodal drive; (2) Feed-pump turbines for Tilbury Power station; (3) Refurbishment of a frigate steam-turbine and gear set and the construction of a fabricated steel vacuum chamber to dynamically balance the engine rotors for Concorde: (4) A back-pressure turbine for a textile factory in Capetown; (5) The testing of turbine thrust-pads of differing types for high-speed rotors; (6) One of the first satellite dishes for Warwick University: (7) Solving the problem of disintegration of thrust collars for rotors of the liner “Northern Star” – which, incidentally, proved to be a material and detergent oil problem.”

“The company built for the Steel Company of Wales at Margam a very high-pressure steam-turbine set producing 9 MW of power from a minuscule turbine running at 17,000 r.p.m. with a working pressure of 3,000 p.s.i. exhausting at 600 p.s.i. into the works steam main.”

RW was heavily involved in a contract for the Trawsfynydd nuclear power station and it was Jim that performed the over-speed trials on the turbo-alternator prior to despatch.  He adds that “The last order of significance I was concerned with was the planning and construction of three 17.5 MW Gas Turbine Stand-by Alternator Sets for Fawley Power Station, Southampton.”

Perhaps most poignantly, in 1963 Jim Wilson was the last RW man to leave the “Gulf Finn,” having completed her sea trials off Dover.  Engine No. 2810, for the “Gulf Finn,” was RW’s last marine steam-turbine contract.  The machinery for this vessel was installed by the builder’s engine department, Furness Shipbuilding, Haverton Hill, assisted by a team of four “Richies” personnel led by Jim Wilson.  Following successful completion of sea trials, Jim and Alwyn (“Ollie”) Watt “stood by” the vessel, engine manufacturers’ representatives being required by contract to stay aboard until the ship had passed the Goodwin Sands.

On 9 March 1963, the day after “Gulf Finn” sailed for the Persian Gulf, Jim and Ollie Watt disembarked from the tanker into a 17-ft motor-launch off Dover.  Jim had the distinction of being the last man to leave a new-build “Richies” marine engine installation.  The passage to Dover was very rough indeed and the “Richies” men immediately caught a train home.  Upon his return, Jim took his wife for a drink at the Park Hotel, and was shocked that his hair had turned snow white!  Thankfully, it was only the effect of salt sea-spray.

“Gulf Finn” was the last of four tankers built for the Gulf Oil Corporation and engined by “Richies.”  Jim’s workbooks state that fitting personnel for basic installation aboard ship comprised himself (Works No. 222) in supervisory capacity, Kenny Pearson (241 and one of Jim’s best apprentices), Jack Myers (609) and Bell (285).  Jim’s contact was the shipping company’s formidable George E. Monrad.  A naturalised American and “a bear of a man, invariably dressed in a leather bomber-jacket,” Jim got on well with him.  Monrad later became a member of the American Bureau of Shipping’s Technical Committee.      

In the post-war period British shipyards of sufficient capacity benefited from the “Caltex” oil agreement, whereby US companies supplied oil to the UK and the UK built tankers.  However, a combination of economic factors later placed the tanker market firmly in the hands of the Japanese.  After more than a century of marine-engine building at Hartlepool, “Richies” were finally “finished with engines.”

In 1967 the company informed staff that the manufacture of rotating machinery for land applications would also cease at Hartlepool and only fabrication work was to be undertaken.  The factors prompting this decision were both technical and political.  Firstly, the (Swiss) Brown-Boveri design of turbo-alternator was becoming too small for the rapidly increasing outputs demanded by the market.  Secondly, RW’s main non-marine customer was the CEGB, who introduced a “buy British” policy that adversely affected RW’s position owing to their arrangement with the Swiss patentees.

Whilst fiercely loyal to RW, Jim was nevertheless vociferously critical of certain company management policies, especially with regard to aspects of the production-control system introduced to the works during a phase of expansion that included new offices and larger turbine and alternator shops built to accommodate orders for higher power outputs.

In the normal course of events Jim was responsible to RW’s quietly-spoken and studious Assistant Chief Draughtsman, Freddie Taylor, for whom he had both respect and affection.  In his youth Taylor worked on RW’s “Burn” engine (see Hogg, 1994: 44-46), also helping to convert the designer’s car to gas-power.  Jim also had great admiration for the abilities of senior RW personnel, including the Signers (father and son) of Brown-Boveri, T. P. Everett and the eccentric Bernard Wyatt.

RW’s withdrawal from the manufacture of rotating machinery eventually prompted Jim to take a job invitation as Nuclear Shop Supervisor with Foster, Wheeler-John Brown Boilers - this firm being newly arrived in Hartlepool.  Additionally, one other notable role Jim performed for RW was as site representative on a boiler installation for the Walls ice-cream factory in Southall.

 

FOSTER WHEELER

Of his time at Foster, Wheeler’s, Jim writes that:  “Actually, I had no intention . . . of applying to this company for a position.  Thinking things over I decided that fabrication work at Foster, Wheeler’s would be no worse than at Richardsons, Westgarth; at the interview I was offered more money . . . and requested to set up the Nuclear Shop. . . . The shop constructed the main boilers for HM submarines amongst other items. . . .  Here an ‘in house’ training within industry formal supervisor’s course was taken, mainly with concerned with health and safety . . .  with only a fringe reference to supervisors’ other duties.  Mainly due to the nature of the work undertaken at this establishment, the Official Secrets Act was a requirement.

“Mainly development was concentrated on welding procedures and welding procedures to ASME codes with all welders qualified to ASME 9 standard.  All welds were initially dye-penetrant tested with a final radiograph taken, using an isotope, and defects were immediately rectified and recorded to the nuclear industry standards.

“After a year’s employment in this position I was becoming less enamoured with wearing a film badge at all times and taking a blood test once a month; I decided not to remain in this industry.”

His decision deserves some amplification.  Jim left the nuclear industry due to his growing concerns over safety, culminating in a dispute concerning the introduction of a new, cheaper, assembly method that in Jim’s judgment was far from ideal.  He was ordered to follow instructions but refused to do so on safety grounds and tendered his resignation.  As a result of his experiences he vowed never to work in the nuclear industry again and was reputedly the only key “ex-Richies” employee not to work on the commissioning of Hartlepool’s nuclear power station.  Moreover, his resignation adversely affected his career development – but Jim was a man of principle and he never regretted it.

 

THE “STEELIES”

In 1968 Jim went back “on the tools” as a maintenance fitter at the Greatham Works of the British Steel Corporation and was soon promoted to Foreman in the new 44-inch Submerged Arc Welded Pipe Mill.  He writes as follows:

“I would suggest that the BSC’s in-house and formal external training courses were excellent.  During the course of my employment . . . I was selected for: (1) Supervisors’ Course; (2) Advanced Supervisor’s Course, taken at Stockton-Billingham Technical College; (3) Specialist Hydraulics Course taken at Vickers Sperry Rand School of Hydraulics, Havant (Portsmouth).

“The mill machinery was controlled electro-hydraulically and electro-pneumatically, much of which was of American design.  Initially we carried out production trials during a commissioning period of three months and then the serious business began in producing the main pipeline for the Gas Board’s distribution of North Sea gas throughout the UK.

“Main responsibilities were reducing downtime [and] maintaining spares stock levels; a daily shift log was maintained and from this maintenance planning over the weekend was undertaken on troublesome items.  We later produced a preventative maintenance system which reduced downtime by a significant percentage.

“On completion of the Gas Board order a further smaller order was received and completed for a water company.  The company was looking towards North Sea oil related work and on receiving a request to try twelve smaller diameter pipes of high-tensile steel . . . the plant was inadequate. . . .” British Steel decided to mothball the plant, replacing it with more substantial machinery two years later.

Unfortunately, Jim was injured in an industrial accident at the steelworks.  He fell into an inspection pit, suffering a hernia and undergoing surgery at St. Hilda’s Hospital on the Headland.  Unofficially, this made him a prime candidate for redundancy at a difficult time economically.  It wasn’t the first time he’d been hurt or nearly hurt whilst working ashore.  Industry was inherently hazardous and incidents comprised: (1) Being collected by a crane hook whilst working on a main engine during his apprenticeship: (2) Avoiding being crushed to death during a main-engine repair at sea; (3) Narrowly escaping from an inspection chamber at RW after an accidental discharge of fire extinguishers; (4) Being burned at the steelworks due to a discharge of acid whilst supervising work on the pickling plant that prepared steel plate.

Upon his recovery he applied for and was successful in obtaining a position as Maintenance Shift Supervisor at Head, Wrightson Steel Stampings, Seaton Carew.

 

HEAD-WRIGHTSON’S

In addition to his supervisory duties Jim’s brief was to assist the Works Engineer in bringing the works “into the 20^th Century.”  It was 1972, and the 20^th Century was nearing its end.  Jim writes: “Most of the drop-forging machines were very old (in one instance, over 100 years old).  Initially we decided to build a new maintenance shop, the original being too small for its purpose, very cramped and with machine tools required for overhauling equipment, there was no area for overhauling drop-stamp drives (which by necessity was taking place on the stamp-shop dirt floor).  The works’ manufacturing plant had 28 units – one unit consisting of one billet furnace, one forging hammer and one press.  Additional shops were a heat-treatment shop with oil quenching and abrading, and a bar shop which cut the billets for the forging process from steel bar, plus a die-shop which manufactured high-precision dies for the forging hammers.

“The company was full of pluses and minuses; on one hand a new maintenance shop and the installation of new manufacturing plant, on the other modifications instituted by me to two machines which increased efficiency and reduced downtime, for which I received a dressing down due to the fact that “it would alter the cost of items being manufactured” . . . which seemed rather puzzling when the aim is to reduce costs and increase efficiency in the 20^th Century, although it appeared that senior management at certain levels wished to stay in the 19^th Century.” Jim was also responsible for introducing new safety measures following a particularly horrific accident at the works.   In addition, one of his duties was “to check and mark the E.I.T.B. modules submitted by apprentices . . . on a monthly basis.”  Jim’s shift diaries show that at “Head’s” he worked a standard 72-hour week with overtime, and a “ week-and-week about” shift pattern comprising a week of days and a week of nights.

Head-Wrightson’s was a punishing place to work, and with all hammers in operation Jim could not make out his maintenance reports because his desk was jumping.  A sense of humour helped.  One Christmas the water tank above the office was dressed to look like a snowman.  It had a red bulb for a nose that was hooked into the telephone system.  A placard read: “When his nose glows red there’s a job ahead!”

Jim tells us that he “was selected for a course organised by the University of Strathclyde in conjunction with the National Forge and Foundry Engineering Association on production, quality and cost control.

“During an interval . . . one of the lecturers suggested that I take a managerial course – this I resolved to do.”  Jim studied Industrial Management (Institute of Works Managers) at Sunderland Polytechnic School of Business Studies.

 

MANAGER AND DIRECTOR

Jim’s next appointment, in 1977, was as Works Superintendent for the Worthington Studebaker Corporation, an American company setting up an engineering service centre in Hartlepool from a “green-field” site.  The company provided specialist servicing and repair for heavy industry on Teesside.

 He wrote that he “liaised with the contractors building the factory and installing a 10-tonne overhead electric crane, pendant operated.   Services offered to industry comprised dynamic balancing of rotors, grit blasting, metal spraying and the precision grinding of piston rods and shafts.  As a second phase I installed a purchasing system, quality assurance system and was responsible for cost estimating, planning, methods design and scheduling, liaising with customers as required.  This was my introduction to the small business world and the ‘wearing of many hats’.”

At this time the exploitation of North Sea oil and gas was making itself felt and Teesside had become the largest industrial complex in Europe.  In consequence, WSC obtained a great deal of highly profitable work from these and allied industries, often involving rotating machinery.

Jim wrote that: “The facility was viable within three months of opening , and during my contracted time at the company amongst many notable jobs were a re-injection compressor for BNOC supposedly at the time the highest pressure compressor built in the UK (inlet pressure around 4,000 p.s.i. and discharge pressure around 9,000 p.s.i.).  There was also the “personal design of a steam compressor cylinder . . . and design of a valve to pressurise with water a certain type of pump rotor, for dynamic balancing.”

Jim insisted upon high standards throughout his career and became increasingly frustrated with the quality of engineering training during the 1970’s.  In consequence, at WSC he designed his own training system for technicians, and also purchased a decommissioned RAF jet engine for use in workshop training.

A significant amount of Jim’s time was spent in technical consultancy.  Some problems required unusual solutions.  On one occasion he was contacted by the engineer in charge of a North Sea oil production platform experiencing a dramatic power reduction due to sea-salt deposits on the compressor blades. Specialist cleaning agents have been developed for this problem but there were none to hand.  Jim gave the appropriate advice – use, with the turbine still in operation, of rice hulls or the grain itself in the right quantities as an alternative, being careful to avoid the clogging of lubricant or cooling air passages – and the problem was quickly solved.

During his time with WSC Jim won the corporate “Manager of the Year” award and was also awarded the Israel State Medal, commemorating the Arab-Israeli Peace Treaty, for technical services rendered to the state of Israel.

In 1979 Jim “decided to move to the General Electric Company of Schenectady who operated under the title D.M.R. Ltd., at Stockton-on-Tees in the UK, being appointed Manager (Mechanical Services).

“The service facility was an Apparatus Service Business Division of General Electric with an 80% electrical bias and it was my responsibility to develop the mechanical side of the business. . . .

“My responsibilities included visiting facilities at East Boldon near Sunderland, and Carlisle, on a monthly basis to attend to mechanical requirements.

“Although not included in my itinerary, visits to a new facility in Basildon, Essex, to advise on the reblading of industrial gas turbine and steam turbine rotors and dynamic balancing were common.  Amongst the contracts we obtained . . . were some large rotary converters, for which I planned the dismantling for overhaul, and re-metalling of the bearings” along  with reassembly and overhaul, plus the “testing of a new design of pump for Aramco driven by a 1,000 b.h.p General Electric drive motor.”

There were also “visits to ICI at Billingham, Wilton and Killingworth for on-site dynamic balancing of fans, pump rotors and other rotating equipment.

“After a year I was being pressed to go to the USA, to manage a facility in Boston.  This I was not prepared to do, and as a consequence I applied for an advertised position as Engineering Manager with Turbinservice at Peterlee, Co. Durham, manufacturers of heat exchangers, and was successful in obtaining the post.  The company was concerned with . . . one-off air-charge coolers for diesel engines with occasional steam condensers, fuel-oil coolers and heater spares and repairs and lubricating oil coolers.  The proprietor was a Swedish national. . . .

“My main responsibilities were cost estimating, design calculations and sales, although as a one-off I carried out a work study during the manufacturing process and instituted a bonus system. . . . Additionally, I carried out a sales and advertising policy which increased business by over 50% and extra personnel were engaged to undertake the increased workload, mainly for export.” Jim was so successful in his job that he was made Managing Director.  He continues that: “the proprietor informed me that he was transferring the company to Costa Rica.”   Jim had no wish to move there, so found himself out of work.

 

THE “WARRIOR”

 “I was unemployed until 1982 when I was appointed Project Manager refurbishing a listed building for an MSC (Manpower Services Commission) Scheme which lasted till until May 1983.  This building was the old Customs’ House, used as the offices of the Warrior Preservation Trust, restoring Britain’s first battleship, HMS “Warrior” (1860).

“I remained unemployed until November 1984 when I was appointed Project Engineer to the Warrior Preservation Trust in December of that year, solely responsible to the Board of Directors for the design, draughting, construction and installation of a simulated main engine, which would revolve, 10 simulated boilers, two funnels, which could be raised and lowered, the galley stove, the washing machine, simulated propeller and spare, the rudder, pumps and shot-heating furnace, over a two year period.”

“This was accomplished successfully” and Jim also “appeared on the ‘Highway’ television programme with Sir Harry Secombe, and was introduced to HRH the Duke of Edinburgh, who was given a conducted tour of the engine and boiler rooms.  Later, during a guarantee survey of the simulated engine, boiler and funnel [at Portsmouth], I was introduced to HRH the Prince of Wales. . . .”

Jim writes that “Amongst other ‘Warrior’ related activities an article was written by me for ‘Sea Breezes’ magazine. . . . On completion of HMS ‘Warrior’ (1860) the Warrior Preservation Trust was transferred to Portsmouth.  A new company was formed to employ the nucleus of personnel originally employed on HMS ‘Warrior,’ which commenced operations in September 1987, the Hartlepool Ship Restoration Company Limited, in which I was appointed Manager (Projects and Engineering).”

Jim was also immortalised by the “Warrior’s” official artist, John Wigston, in his painting entitled “Relaxation, Wardroom HMS ‘Warrior’ (1860).  In this Jim sits at the wardroom table on the extreme left of picture.

 

HSR Co. Ltd.

Of the Hartlepool Ship Restoration Co.” Jim explains that:“Initially we obtained two orders for replica sailing ships for Tobacco Dock Developments Ltd [London], and held a World War I vessel and HMS ‘Foudroyant (the second oldest floating wooden wall in the world) for restoration, and a 12 metre racing yacht ‘Trivia’ which had belonged to a relative of the Managing Director’s wife. . . . a championship-winning yacht built in 1937.

“The company obtained one further order for the refurbishment of the replica ‘Argo’ for Regalian Developments Ltd, featured in the BBC 2 documentary ‘Voyage of the Heroes,’ which was completed and with the completion of the Tobacco Dock order and the collapse of the riverside development market, no further orders were obtained.  The works’ personnel were made redundant in November 1989. 

Jim proposed a sea-change in the company’s market, using the promise of one further replica vessel to re-orientate the company towards boatbuilding and industrial fabrication.  He was also employed on other projects belonging to sister companies, such as the repricing of a unique submersible boat for the defence industry, built by a firm at Hexham, together with the redesign of a wind-turbine tower.

Sadly, Jim’s plans eventually came to nought, for as he wrote, the company’s owners were “insensitive to change.”  The remaining office staff were made redundant, the company having moved from the Customs’ House to new premises in the old office complex of Richardsons, Westgarth.  Jim ended his career with redundancy, but at least he’d maintained something of his old “Richies” connection.

In an interview with the “Yorkshire Post” (11^th January 1988) the essence of Jim’s character came to the fore.  The reporter described him as a “mild man who could soon be drawn into a conversation that revealed depths of feeling beneath the cautious surface”:

“You see those chaps on the quay? Jim had asked him.  “They’re enthusiastic.  That’s because what they’re doing is in their blood.  You should have seen them work down in Portsmouth.  My fellers were the best ambassadors a town ever had.”

 

MARRIAGE AND FAMILY

Jim Wilson married Catherine Isabel Ross at All Saints Church, Stranton, on the 28^th of August 1954.  Cathie was a clerk-typist at the local Police Station, working for CID.  She’d previously served in the Auxiliary Territorial Service of the Women’s Royal Army Corps.  The couple met at the Queen’s Rink dance-hall and Cathie was the daughter of Walter Malcolm Ross and Isabella (nee Almond).  Cathie, who lived with her mother at 31 Wordsworth Avenue, was born in West Hartlepool on the 29^th of December 1929.  Her father, formerly a junior NCO in the Durham Light Infantry died of TB on the eve of her tenth birthday.

Jim and Cath lived first, and briefly, with Cathie’s mother.  After saving up, they moved to their first home at 143 Raby Road, subsequently moving on to a brand-new house, 7 Bournemouth Drive, Hart Station, circa 1960.  They moved once more, to the newly built Fens Estate in 1967.  The couple had one son, Stuart James Wilson, born 17^th November 1964.

 

HOBBIES AND PASTIMES

In his youth Jim Wilson played football in the Church and Northern Leagues, in the latter case for Evenwood Town.  He was a goalkeeper and had professional overtures from Leeds and Leyton Orient.  Jim gave up footie due to ill health.  He was also a keen model-maker of ships and aircraft and an extremely talented amateur artist.  Both Jim and his wife were members of the Hartlepool Art Club, having exhibited in the local open art exhibition at the Gray Art Gallery and Museum.  He was a sociable rather than social man, and was much happier with an artist’s brush in his hand than a pint glass. His interests included politics and, like his father, his inclinations were distinctly Socialist.   Shortly before his death Jim was also giving technical lectures, by invitation, to Shell Tanker cadets at South Tyneside College.

 

PASSING AND OBITUARIES

Jim Wilson died at home after a long illness on August 19^th, 1994.  He suffered from very severe arthritis and a long-standing heart condition.  His arthritis manifested itself in adolescence and left him in great pain for decades.  It could be seen in the arthritic nodules on his wrist and spine.   Held at All Saints Church, Jim’s funeral service was a fittingly dignified, well-attended and moving occasion.  A fundamentally un- ambitious man who rose solely on merit, extracts from Wordsworth’s “Happy Warrior” were read as part of the funeral service.  On the day, H.M.S. “Warrior” (1860) flew her ensign at half-mast, the traditional sign of mourning.

Testimonials concerning Jim refer to his impressive engineering knowledge and ability, not least that from a naval architect with the prestigious US firm of Sparkman & Stevens, yacht designers, whilst the Chairman of the Warrior Preservation Trust wrote that Jim’s dedication, expertise and energy drew admiration from everyone.  The Head of Naval Architecture and Marine Engineering at South Tyneside College called him instantly likeable, full of enthusiasm and more up to date with events and technology than many engineers half his age . . . the original multi-ideas man with the practical ability to bring them to fruition.  Rear Admiral John Warsop, the first engineer to command Portsmouth Naval Base, wrote that it was a delight to be with Jim, both as an engineer and as a man.  “Warrior’s” machinery, he noted, would forever be known as “Jimmy’s engine.”  More personally, Mrs. Muriel Malham, whose husband had been in the next bed to Jim during his spell in hospital, wrote that he was a “most brave gentleman.”   

The eulogy read as follows:

“Jim was a man of many rare gifts and qualities.

“From the outset he wanted to be an engineer.  In his work his achievements were both numerous and notable.  He had an enquiring and brilliant mind, with the ability to come up with highly original ideas.  Not only that, Jim had a wealth of experience and practical ability.  He was greatly admired and respected by his workmates and colleagues (many of whom became personal friends) for his professionalism and unique blend of skills.

“Jim always loved ships and had a great affinity with them.  He was an avid collector and reader of books, journals and papers on the subject of ships and engineering.  However, whilst Jim honoured the past, he always looked to the future.

“Included in his many talents was a wonderful artistic ability and he painted many pictures – mostly of ships of course!  He also possessed the ability to paint pictures with words, describing events so as to allow all those listening to him and talking with him to share, enjoy and benefit from, those experiences.

“Throughout his life Jim led by example and was a man of the highest principles.  Never one to mince his words and always one to take a stand and do what was right.

“Jim was a kind-hearted man who could guide, teach, reassure, comfort and inspire.

“Above all, he was devoted to his family whom he loved as deeply as they loved him.

“Jim had a rich and fascinating life.  Those who knew him will confirm that it was a privilege to have the company of such an exceptional man.”

 

Source: “The Wilsons of Whitby & West Hartlepool,” Vol. 6 by Stuart James Wilson.

 

 

 

 

  

                    

 

     

 

 

             

 

  

        

    

 

JIM WILSON, C.Eng., M.I.Mar.E.

 

EARLY YEARS

Jim was born on the 29^th of September 1927, the second child and first son of James and Elizabeth Wilson, then of 25 Ladysmith Street on the outskirts of the Longhill Estate.  This was situated close by the North Works of the South Durham Steel & Iron Co.,  where his father worked as a clerk.  Jim Wilson had an early introduction to the sea.  His father would often hire a fishing coble from Middleton and young Jim accompanied him as soon as he was old enough.  There were trips to see the Royal Navy battle-cruiser “Hood” (6-9^th September 1932) and Hartlepool’s prehistoric submerged forest of Longscar Rocks.  Another memory was of the German airship “Graf Zeppelin” which flew over the Hartlepools on 19 August 1931, its massive engines rattling the windows of the Wilsons’ home at 7 Elcho Street.

 

SCHOOLING AND BOYHOOD

Jim attended Lynnfield and Elwick Road schools.  He was an active child, playing football and cricket for the school teams, as goalkeeper and wicket keeper respectively, coming in to bat at “first-wicket down.”  During the inter-war years Jim’s father was convinced that further conflict with Germany was inevitable.  As a result, he put his eldest son through a punishing fitness regime as preparation.  This included running on the sands with a rucksack full of bricks!  Jim Wilson was one of the Lynnfield school team that won the junior cricket league and cup in 1939.

Young Jim was never comfortable with the heavy hand of authority and determined to leave school at the earliest opportunity.   Schools of Jim’s era were militaristic in nature and Lynnfield particularly so.  The school hall boasted prints of the German battle-cruiser “Blucher,” a participant in the Bombardment of the Hartlepools, sinking at the Battle of the Dogger Bank and Lady Butler’s “Charge of the Scots Greys” at Waterloo.  Even so, Jim managed to pick up prizes for drawing and craftsmanship.  Jim might not have liked school, but he always enjoyed learning and was an avid collector and reader of books on maritime and technical subjects.

Jim was determined to become a marine engineer like his uncles and grandfather.  He deliberately flunked his scholarship in order that the extra two years of study this would otherwise have entailed should not delay his entry into the engineering industry – and also to avoid staying on at school!  The decision met with no small disapproval from his mother and when he swaggered off for his first day at work, age 14 and in a boiler suit far too big for him, she was heartbroken.

Always wilful, Jim’s determination to pursue a goal is demonstrated by a story from the war.  He was out collecting sea coal one morning for his parents with an old pram when he spotted a wireless-telegraphy set washed up on the beach.  It seems to have come from a German bomber shot down in Hartlepool Bay.  The area, however, was mined and cordoned off.  Jim was intent on the trophy, other children contenting themselves with bits of shrapnel and the like.  After creeping under the barbed wire he was successful.  No mines exploded on that occasion – but his mother did when she learned of the exploit!

 

PRE-APPRENTICESHIP: J. J. HARDY & Co.

In 1973 Jim wrote an account of his first job as a fitting-shop boy at J. J. Hardy’s brass-founders, “Old Hartlepool,” and extracts are as follows:

“From the tender age of nine years I wanted to be an engineer.  I joined the local Public Library by lying about my age (one was supposed to be eleven).  As soon as I could . . . I was reading Macgibbon’s and Sothern’s marine engineering books.  As a consequence, I understood a fair amount of the technology of the steam engine before I started work at the age of fourteen years.

“During the schooling of my era one was taught discipline and regimented obedience (i.e. the class system of ‘obeyers and obeyed’).  The ‘bosses’ and ‘men’ both called each other b------s . . . little realising that each were only human beings all having personal commitments of varying degrees.

“The area in which I was born was predominantly marine- engineering and shipbuilding based.  The U-boat campaign was at its height, and with this as a back-cloth I set out to my job at a small brass-founders and engineering shop in the autumn of 1941.

“First things first.  The manager, a Mr. Walker, showed me into his office.  Every morning at 8 am I was to set and light the coal fires in his and the accountant’s offices (upstairs), followed by sweeping out of the small fitting shop – occupied by one old fitter-turner, three lathes, one boring machine and two drilling machines.  In addition I had to learn to use the two smaller of the unoccupied lathes.  My function at 12 noon and 5 pm was, on the hour, to ring the bell that signalled finishing times for ‘dinner’ and ‘tea. . . .’

“Every night on completion of work one had to fill in a time-board.  This piece of unhygienic material was a piece

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