Tony Large has contributed this transcription of the tapes of interviews between Tasmanian solicitor Desmond Jacksonand his father Vincent Large. The interviews took place to set down Vincent's memoirs, primarily of his days under. He did also describe other exploits including his experince of Durban businessman TB Davis.
Here is the major relevant piece, mostly about my father but with an entertaining glimpse of TBD. A few years ago I typed it all from the original tapes and there were some bits I couldn’t be sure of, but the sense is there:-
Well, I got back to Durban, left the ship and was duly paid off and met my wife and then - a job. I'd been promised a job. I wanted to become a stevedore, a stevedoring manager, something like that. I saw the man who had half promised the job; this man was a millionaire [TB Davis. Ed.], a very very big man in the industry and I used to get on very well with him - got on terms of Christian names as far as I was concerned. He was a close friend of my father-in-law and he had known my wife since she was a child, and we got on well together. But he was a domineering character, ruthless, ride roughshod over anybody. At the back of it he was a fine fellow, but utterly ruthless. Well, I was going to go off to Madagascar.
He'd started another company up, a trading company and he said, 'Now, I've got a ship to go to Madagascar. I've appointed agents in two or three of the ports; I don't know them and I don't know anything about them. I've just appointed them by correspondence - that kind of thing, and you are to go over in the ship as a supercargo [Personnel that accompany cargo on board a ship for the purpose of accomplishing en route maintenance and security].' And I said 'I can't supercargo.' and 'No,' he said 'All you've got to do is ship ['demurrage gear or here?]. We have all the documents; it's our own cargo, all kinds of odds and ends. We're loading the ship here and all the cargo is consigned to two ports and you're to go as supercargo; cabin to yourself, a nice little ship. And you'll land in Madagascar; you'll go to any port in Madagascar you please; you'll join the ship when you please and come back with her. You will conduct all the business through the Madagascar agents. You will tell them to sell this present cargo. They will take delivery of the cargo and give you receipts. The value [?] is all there and what they are to sell it for and what they are to do with it. Now you come in. You are to tell these agents to produce for you various cargos and their various suggestions; and your common sense will decide what to get. You will buy the cargo, either on the sales of the present cargo or when you give your drafts on the Bank of France to the agents.' So it was all in my hands, you see. I knew nothing about that kind of thing - not the slightest idea of it. 'So,' he said, 'that's all you've got to do. It's quite simple.' And I said, 'I hope I'm up to doing it.' He said 'As long as you don't let these agents pull a swift one. You don't know them. Be sensible; you don't know them.' So that was all right.
And TB Davis had a Rolls Royce and he said to me one day, 'Come on. We'll go and have a look at the little ship. You haven't seen her.' And I said, 'No.' 'So,' he said, 'I'll show you.' And we went along and there along the wharves was this beautiful yacht named Modwena. She had belonged to Mortimer Singer, Singer sewing machine magnate, his luxury yacht, wonderful; barque rigged sailing ship. She had an auxiliary motor which was rather wonderful in those days. And I went there to have a look around and the ship was loading.
And another day TB Davis said 'Come down to the ship.' I'd been to the office and we jumped into the car and went down, TBD driving like a madman, and got on board. I had been introduced to the skipper [before]. I didn't think much of the skipper; he wasn't much of a character. At all events I was just standing there and all at once there was a terrific row and I heard Mr Davis, this millionaire fellow, damning the skipper up hill and down dale. And they had this up and down row on deck. I think it was about the way the skipper was stowing the cargo. A stevedore was doing the job but the skipper was responsible for how the ship was loaded. TBD was a stevedore himself; he had big stevedore companies all up and down the [South African] coast, very very wide ramifications.
And the next thing this gentleman turned round and he said, 'You're fired!' to the skipper. And I was standing at the other end of the ship or on the wharf, I forget which, and he called, 'Large; come here. I want to speak to you.' So I went down and he said 'You're in command of this ship.' 'Well,' I said, 'this is the captain.' And TB Davis said, 'No. He was in command but he's not.' So I said, 'Well, I …..' and he said 'There's no "well" about it, you are in command of this ship. This man had no authority in command at all. He can pack up and get off and go to the office and I'll pay him whatever he's due.' So the skipper said, 'You can't do that.' And Mr Davis said 'I can and I am doing it.' And he said to me, 'Now, you go down Large - I'll take you down - to the Shipping Master's office and the Customs office, and tell them that you are now captain of the Modwena.' 'Well,' I said, 'I can't do that. I must have some authority. I can't; I'm not even known there. I can't walk…' 'Oh,' he said, 'I'll give you authority in the office.' Got to the office and the secretary typed out a document 'Captain So-and-So has been relieved of his command by VC Large. Pleased to inform you so that necessary steps may be taken;' something to that effect. So I went down. My first bump-up was that the Shipping Master wouldn't accept it. He said 'I must have the original captain here to endorse that.' 'Well,' I said 'you can't have that. He won't come. He refuses to come.'
'Well,' he said, 'I can't act.' So, oh, now there's a thing. He said 'I can't recognise that at all. The present captain, as far as I'm concerned, should be here.' And I repeated, 'That's no good. He won't come.' And he said, 'Well, I can't do anything.' And I said, 'Well, you're wrong; there must be something that can be done. Any man [can be unavailable?] or disappear for that matter and the owner's quite entitled to appoint somebody else. If the other man turns up again, it'll [????]' 'Well,' he said, 'I can't act.'
And then I suddenly had a brainwave. I saw Davis again. 'Oh,' he said, 'You'll get out of that.' I went up to the Shipping Master's boss, the Collector of Customs and he said, 'What's the trouble?' And then, 'Well, it is a bit awkward isn't it? We know that Mr Davis is the owner of that vessel but…..' And I said, 'Well, I think I can see a way out of it.' I said, 'That Captain must deposit his Articles with you.' 'Yes.' 'He must deposit the Register with you.' 'Yes.' I said 'Well, produce those; and if he hasn't endorsed the Register, he's not captain.' 'Well,' he said, 'I can assure you his name is on the Articles.' So I said, 'Would you mind producing those so that the documents can be sent down to the Shipping Office?' And they opened them up and sure enough this fellow had let him go unregistered [?] as Master of the ship. 'So,' I said, 'I think that if you go into that, he never has been Master legally, so whether he likes it or not, he has no say in the matter. That letter of authority from the owners is quite enough.'
The Shipping Master is the man who signs you off and pays you on. It'll be the same in Australia. Supposing you're a Captain and you're signing on a member of the crew. There is an office ashore and the Shipping Master, a government officer, has this function. You'd probably find one in Melbourne; you wouldn't find one in Ulverstone. In Ulverstone, the captains would do it all. The owner can't just say to the Captain you're sacked [unless this act is endorsed at the Shipping Master's office?]. This man turned up the next day and was told that he was no longer captain of the Modwena. And I proved that [he was not in actual fact the Captain?]. The day after, or two days after, I had a man to sign on, a new member of the crew and I took him down to sign on to open my negotiations with the Shipping Master. I believe the Shipping Master, a man named Copeland I think; I heard afterwards that he got hell from the Collector of Customs who was his boss, for not knowing; not taking care to see that this man, the ex-skipper of the Modwena, had endorsed the Register.
So that was how I came to be in command of the Modwena. She was only a little ship, about 250-300 tons, a three masted barque, beautifully appointed. When I first saw her they were taking out all her appointments and I got quite a lot because I saw the owner [TB Davis] and he said, 'Look here Large; if there's any of these things - they're only going to the sale room and I won't get much for them - and I said to him, 'Can I have some of these things?' And he said, 'Yes, within reason.' And I had beautiful linen, beautiful silk cushions and curtains. He told me to help myself and to put them on one side and let him see them. And I got some wonderful cushions; down cushions, not feather - they were wonderful things, and pillows and linen; beautiful stuff. [I remember the silk cushions, opulent things with silken tassels. Ma and Pa must have welcomed these things greatly, manna from heaven to an impecunious young couple, and used them in their first home. Was it 42 Clyde Avenue, where I was born in 1923?]
But all the upholstery in the cabins was of silk; beautiful. Of course Singer was a multi-millionaire: sewing machines.
