The above two photos of the ‘Abertawe’ are reproduced with the kind permission of Mr. Bernard Humphreys of Bristol (Mr. Humphreys also provided the details and drawings shown in our section on ‘Tir John’)
 

Paying out the Dredgermen
 

 Back in the 1960’s, whenever the South Wales dredging fleet was working in Swansea bay, Thursday was a day that I particularly dreaded – especially if the weather was foul, as it so often was. I was working in the Dock Cashier’s department at the time, and there was always a chance that I would be the unlucky one selected on the day to pay out the dredging crews.
 

       In those days health and safety was not much of an issue, and the protective clothing provided for this task was nothing more than a large black sou’wester and a pair of one-size-fits-all wellington boots. The boots were at least three sizes too big for me and the sou’wester would come down over my eyes but, despite my protestations, the Dock Cashier Horace Balsdon was unrelenting in his insistence that these items must be worn at all times.
 

 So, suitably attired and carrying a battered old wooden box containing the pay packets of the various dredging crews, I would be met outside the Harbour Office by Capt. Peter Armstrong in his little blue BTDB van and transported amid a cloud of blue pipe-smoke to the approach jetty at the Kings Dock Locks, where one of the dredgers would eventually come alongside to pick us up.
 

 Then off we would go, out into the channel no matter how foul the weather, paying out the crew of that particular dredger as we went. So far so good. But to pay the crews of the other dredgers working in the bay involved the somewhat hazardous activity of leaping from ship to ship which, given the encumbrance of the over-sized wellies, sou’wester-restricted vision and a large wooden box in one hand, was no mean feat by anyone’s standards.
 

 On such occasions I must say that Capt. Armstrong was a great comfort. He would jump effortlessly onto the next ship – as old sailors do – and stand there, pipe in one hand, waiting for the two heaving decks to meet each other and shout in his soft west-country burr “jump…… now!”, whilst casually positioning himself ready to catch hold of me as I landed. However, his overall demeanour was so laid-back that I’m sure that if I were to miss the deck completely and plunge helplessly into the sea, he would probably just shrug his shoulders, puff on his pipe and go down below to enjoy a nice hot cup of tea. Happy days!

 Ian Rogerson