Excuse me butting in, but thought these experiences might help get a feel of what the first class days of cruise travel were like for the 'Bells' and what they might have got up to. In my experience my title was Bell boy or Juinor catering rating, the 'Bells' were more typically the officers and crew's title for the role. The traditional values are what I think you might be interested, my era was when there was still first class travel by ship, SS Carmania, Franconia Iberia, Oronsay, Chusan,
Queen Mary, Queen Elizabeth 2, Northern star, Ocean Monarch, The France, and some beautiful old ladies were plying their trade.
Bells and Buttons are both traditional terms used for Junior catering ratings. In my discharge book I was officially recognised as both Bell boy and Junior catering rating, depending upon the port that you sailed from in the UK and whether the shipping federation office staff for that port chose to write which upon the large black boards as vacancies that crew searching for a ship to join used to stand and watch whilst waiting for their preferred selection, destination, duration and job role. Naturally it would have been the titles used by the shipping company if they were respected. 'Boots' were crew who assisted the store keepers and supervisors, or may have had an attachment to the stores and hold areas, and in some companies a junior catering rating may have been attached to assist with the passenger luggage held in the stores below decks.
On my first cruise I was given a jacket that had 28 brass (staybrite) buttons, about 18, or 20 more than any other catering crew. 2 buttons were on both shoulder to secure the twisted rope epaulets, and two rows of 12 that were arranged in a double breasted detail. Other jackets were designed to have 16 buttons on a single breast. I am sure in the day that those buttons were of real brass and had to be polished to the highest shine every morning and be part of the inspection, along with shoes, finger nails and general presentation held by the Chief stewards every morning at 6am on the bureau square. The uniform included a pill box hat with a black leather chin strap that was worn down, the hat was know as a sweat box by the boys as it was to be worn at all times, and as the steamships I sailed in did not have air conditioning the hats were an assault on the scalp of many generations of bell boys. Fortunately in my time I was presented with the hat, but only told to wear it upon certain inspections and events, and that was enough for me. Shoes were real leather tied with laces, and they were expected to have a very high shine, so much so that we were taught had to polish them in a military 'spit and polish' method that took hours to get to, and then were easily manageable once the required gloss finish had been achieved. Unlike the officers the ratings wore the same uniform throughout all weathers. The officers and petty officers were privileged to have a 'rig of the day' arrangement that meant they could wear white shoes, sock, trousers and white shirts (without ties) in the tropics, and blues in the cooler climes..
The 'Bells' were also the boys who would be charged with communicating the ' all ashore who are going ashore' announcements and the 'all ashore, all ashore, this ship will be sailing in **** minutes, would all guest and visitors not taking the passage kindly disembark now' announcements. They would have been instructed to cover the entirety of the ship and all of the public rooms and lounges,up to the promenade and including the boat decks during this duty, and to gain attention of 'hub-and-baloo' of many of the groups who would be busy discussing their excitement, sadness, and nervousness that may have been anticipated as first time cruise passengers or migrants, the 'Bells' would have been given a four key xylophone with a small round hammer on the end of a stick handle (as xylophonist's will recognise) and plonk away on it to gain sufficient quiet to be heard.
The same xylophone (Bells) would be used if a telegram marked urgent was received by the radio officer, The senior Bell boy would be directed to find the recipient and hand the telegram. To trawl the ship and ask every passenger if the were Sir Richard was not the done thing, so the xylophone (as 'before) drew the silence, and the bell boy would announce audibly and sometimes loudly that there was a 'telegram for Sir Richard'.
There was not much of a musical arrangement could be played on four notes, but there was a standard that you were taught. So the 'Bells' played the bells, responded to bells in staterooms and first class cabins that were situated in every cabin on a brass plate like a light switch, the button would be depressed by the passenger and a concealed wire would carry the alert to a bell and a light in rows and rows on brass plates as large as the bulkheads in the pantry that serviced all, or same of those (from my experience) cabins and staterooms. The light would be switched off so that too many crew did not arrive knocking on a cabin door. The 'Bells' also delivered telegrams generated by Portishead radio in Morse code, typed by the radio officer in a radio room behind the bridge, the R/O who had a button that relayed to a bell and a light in the pantry where the senior Bell boy was domiciled. If he was not in the pantry at the time the bell rang he would notice the light when he returned, and as it was still on he would know that he was to get on up to the R/O's office after turning off the light.
Bell boys were also engaged in many companies as lift operators. Passenger lifts were in first and 2nd class (tourist) passenger accommodations, had a sliding concertina steel gate which would click into the bulkhead receiving part of the lock before the lift could be operated. The handle was pushed forward for up, and backwards for down. The deck at which the passenger wanted be delivered to was sought by the bell boy and he would judge the lift slowing and stopping at the exact correct level by eye. the next passenger would push a light on the deck lift door frame, and (you've got it!) a bell would sound in the lift. The light went off after the lift had arrived at the same deck.
There was no end to the range of possibilities of jobs and attachments a bell boy could experience in each and every cruise. From door opening in the first class dining saloon, replenishing the dessert buffet tables, and general buss duties, commis waiter for the Maître D (which was exciting as it involved table lamp cookery at the table-side from a gueridon trolley to the most respected first class guests and tables) and occasionally being seconded into the galley pantry to assist with food preparation and supporting the crew in that furnace. On embarkation day there was a rule that any boy not engaged by and officer, or petty officer in a specific role, or duty must present himself to the welcoming (boarding) parade of crew who stood at attention in two lines facing each the oncoming passengers on the Bureau square and await instructions from the Chief and 2nd Pursers, Chief and 2nd Stewards, and the senior cabin stewards. Immediately that task had been fulfilled the boys would have to return to their position in the line for their next task.
There were other micro tasks such as delivering the daily newspaper. The only contact with land, and much welcomed, heralded and expected by all passengers classes. First class staterooms and cabins would have their newssheet's typed by the Radio office after decoding the Morse (most of these guys were extremely good and could type as they listened to the Morse, and hold a discussion with the boys because they may have been the only contact they had had since they started their watch from 04:00 until 08:00) which was exactly 06:00 as it was announced on the B|BC world service over the Radio office radio, and the Gestetner printer used to whirl and clank into action printing out 1,000 news papers a day as soon as the Radio officer had completed the last word and spell checked the new sheet. After the first class and papers had been delivered under to the first class pantry for the staterooms, the
first class passengers received their news sheet's under their cabin doors. The tourist section had small piles of the news sheet's placed in lounges, and the smoke rooms, libraries and all public lounge spaces. There was never nothing to do, always busy, nearly always at fast pace.
I hope I haven't intruded, happy to share an excerpt from memoirs.
