Stories and reminiscences – from Troopship to School Ship

Ian Broadbent has emailed in this great trip story...10/06/09

I’ve been collecting snippets of info and pictures relating to the Dunera for some time, but only today have I ‘discovered’ this site.

I sailed as part of the ’67 summer trip to Norway and Denmark from Grangemouth (Scotland). I was attending West Calder High.

The trip even began fantastically as we sailed out of the Forth under the still fairly new Forth Road Bridge. As we sailed under it the walkway was lined with parents waving their goodbyes (having raced along the road from Grangemouth to beat the ship to the bridge).

I remember the price of the trip being either B#98 or B#99 and that I’d had to do some serious nagging and pleading to be allowed to go because of the cost.

The cruise stopped first at Trondheim (immaculately clean) then onto Bergen where we arrived unfortunately at the weekend. Nobody had told us that everywhere shut at lunchtime which meant that the town was closed (even the cable/fenicular railway from the port area to the top of the town) so the only memories of Bergen are the organised bus trips to the ancient Fantoft Stave Church, and Greig’s house. From Bergen we went onto a small village ‘Andalsnes’ (I think was the correct name) where we rode the narrow-guage train up the fiord walls to the mainline connector station at the top of the mountain. Andalsnes was (for me) the highlight of the trip... and if I could today revisit any place in my past to recapture the moment...it would be there.

For me, it was a truly lovely little town. Connected to the outside world by not only the branch line railway which climbed the mountain, but also a sea-plane which was berthed at the tiny village jetty. It was like something from history itself (at least to me ..but then I’ve always been a ‘softy’ even if the public persona was of something else).

Our arrival also coincided with a display in the local park including a Norwegian Army exhibition. They had a helicopter - and you could stand in line to get the chance to fly around the fiord and town in the helicopter. I was especially fortunate as I managed to ‘bag’ the front seat alongside the pilot - what an experience for the time. The take-off and climb against the rock wall which seemed only inches away from the rotor tips is another very strong memory. At night we thumb-wrestled with the local lads in the park around the bonfire. Ah ... blissful memories indeed.

From there we sailed onto Kristiansand - or Kristiansund can’t recall which - (where we had to endure the lifeboat race in a sea of jellyfish). From there it was onto Copenhagen. This entire trip remains one of my most powerful memories of childhood/teens and I will be forever grateful for the opportunity it afforded. Mind you not all the memories of the trip are so rose-tinted.

We were berthed in an ‘L’ shaped dorm right at the front of the boat and down at the waterline. A not-so-rosey memory was being awakened by the frighteningly loud thud of logs/trees and other heavy flotsam and jetsom smashing into the steel plates only a few feet away from my head. Another memory relates to the ‘joy’ of sleeping underneath a lad who spent his entire pocket money on his latest discovery - ‘Pontefract Cakes’ (the licorice disks) which meant that the air was continually foul as the licorice did what licorice does best.

Unfortunately, and to my greatest regret, I only had the old family box brownie with me (‘Dad’ had a cine but wouldn’t entrust it to me to take abroad). The Brownie had one roll of film with it, so I ended up with only a few distant (very distant) shots of some houses on the shoreline and nothing of the memorable parts of the trip to look back on. (I was under strict instructions not to waste the little pocket money I had been given on expensive film, .. and regretted obeying that instruction almost as soon as we docked back at Gourock (or was it Greenock).

The most severe downside of the trip was that the teacher who was meant to be accompanying us took ill at the last minute and we got lumbered with a stand-in who didn’t want to be there... and made sure we damned well knew it.

He was a real ‘dork’ (or worse) and actually seemed to take delight in being as miserable as it was possible to be and ensuring that any fun/laughter/humour that we might be experiencing was as short-lived as possible. But, we won’t dwell on that idiot. Despite his endeavours the trip was brilliant, and although I don’t think I ever thanked my parents enough, or directly, when they were around, it was definitely an appreciated and recognised priviledge to have been part of.

I believe this might have been the last schools trip the Dunera ran as she was scrapped in ’67 out in Spain.

What an excellent piece – thank you Ian. If anyone can add to this, were you on the trip? get in touch!!
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