Working months at sea on the English Bridge, an oil tanker and never setting foot ashore, I saved a lot of money. So when I left the ship in January of 1973 I bought my first car. A fire engine red 1959 Jaguar, owned since new by a British racing team mechanic, for just ninety pounds. I was barely eighteen and boy did I ever love that car. I could see my face in the shine I polished onto it! Then one day I came out of the house to find it gone.
'Dad! Someone's stolen my car!'
'I told you not to leave your keys in it' was all he said.
I raced around the streets frantically searching for my pride and joy and finally came back home downhearted.
'I'm going to have to go to the police station'. I said to my dad, who
reached into his pocket and pulled out my car keys.
'It's parked on Moss Lane' he said, 'Don't leave the keys in the car again.'
Lesson learned.
Jump forward seven years and I am a chauffeur to a wealthy lady with thirty-seven cars, most of them vintage classics, who insisted that the keys be left in the ignition at all times, just in case she decided to drive herself. She never did and for years all was fine until a maid's son stole a brand new twelve-cylinder Jaguar from the lady's home in Palm Beach, Florida, and drove it to Tennessee on a cocaine run, where it was burnt out to hide evidence. I guess that didn't work out to well for the thief.
Such is life in the fast lane.
The Jaguar on the dock is similar to the one I had. What a gorgeous car that was. Real wood and rich leather. A pleasure to look at and wonderful to drive. Thanks to Duncan Montgomery, a former British Merchant Seaman, I found out that the ship was most likely the MV Medic. My first trip to sea was on the Medic!
Photo credit: Leigh Purcell.
Found in the archives of the Australian National Maritime Museum.
Red Jaguar Photo: https://www.classiccarratings.com/
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