Perhaps our favorite port was Newcastle, U.K. Everyone was so friendly. The favorite watering hole (Pub) was the Pineapple.

Photographer’s Mate Nelson Tromble was a gifted and creative artist as well as a photographer. He taught me many darkroom tricks. One of his projects was to design and paint a mural on the basement wall of the Pineapple. It was amazing.



The proprietors of the Pineapple got special permission to remain open 24 hours a day while we were in port just to cater to us.

Most pubs had to close. Many people in the town came out meet the Yanks and we always had a great time. One of our shipmates, who will remain nameless, after some partying decided to take a nap on a bench along the basement floor wall of the Pineapple. That was the night the Pub decided to close and nobody noticed him in the back. He woke up by falling off the bench in total blackout darkness about 4 in the morning; no lights, nothing. He could feel chair legs, spilled brew, cups, etc. and had no idea where he was. He first thought he was in hell until he came to his senses.

Bowditch 1971-1972.

We used to go to Newcastle a lot. Apparently someone in D.C. found out that we had the highest per capita rate of marriages by crew to young lasses from the UK and the next thing we knew our port calls became much less desirable. I remember fondly one evening departure from Newcastle in which it seemed that the entire town came out to see us off. Many people parked their cars facing us along the channel with their headlights shining on us to see us off. Needless to say, I never had an experience like that anywhere else.

During an overhaul in Falmouth our crew took over an entire hotel when it became impossible to live on ship any longer. They gave us an incredible parting formal dinner (I have pictures). The management essentially turned over their bar facility to our care and it operated the whole time successfully on the honor system.