The `Seventy-Footers'

No matter how pleasant it might be to serve on a big launch with a reasonable OC, most young sub-inspectors wanted a command - and a bit of independence - of their own. The arrival of the first three `seventy-footers' in 1954 made this possible. As a class of patrol vessels that were to serve for over thirty years they left, it must be admitted, a certain amount to be desired. Their maximum speed was between ten and twelve knots (depending on the vessel), their plumbing was primitive and the accommodation anything but comfortable. Also, as they were often alongside village jetties and working craft, they harboured rather more life than the crews might wish. Paul Dickinson, who spent "probably the happiest eighteen months of [his] thirty-five years in Hong Kong" aboard one, remembers:

A hardy beast, the marine cockroach.

But despite cockroaches, rock-hard bunks, no air-conditioning and the absence of many other comforts considered essential in patrol craft of the 1990s, their crews and the young inspectors who commanded them took a fierce pride in them. Paul Dickinson again:

Another good reason for liking the `seventy-footers' is that they were the first launches (apart from station motor boats) to be based away from Headquarters, a welcome situation for any junior officer. Mike Cuningham, who was based at Tai Po in early 1958 remembers:

This aspect also struck Paul Dickinson, who served in the same area shortly afterwards:

The crew of a seventy-foot launch consisted of 12 men, and these invariably developed into tight-knit groups with a `family' feel. This could include some pretty thorough leg-pulling. Jimmy Wong commanded seventy-footers more than once himself, but the first time he served in one was as a newly-promoted corporal.