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"I was born in 1952 and lived on Rutland Street. Man, what a dump - pawnbroker and the bookie taking bets on the corner, always on the look out for the bobby on the beat, fish shop, corner shops selling single woodbines, 'put it on the bill, pay at the weekend'.

With friends in Canada in 1974

I remember St Joe's, Mary Mags, bingo in the church hall. Just before the cottage fell around our ears, we moved to Westmoor Road, it was mam, dad, my brother Bruce and yours truly.

Don't know why, but we went to Hylton Road Secondary Modern School. It was a tall building with high ceilings and iron railings. It looked more like a prison than a school to me. From my time there, I remember Mr Johnson belting out Onward Christian Soldiers at assembly and Terry the music teacher who taught us just enough to work in the pits, the yards and the building sites. I always read about the reunions in The Echo but I have never seen anybody wanting to get together from Hylton Road - maybe that says it all.

Finding work

I left school at Easter in 1968 and went to work in a wholesale fruit and veg warehouse in Grangetown. I kept the place tidy, delivered potatoes to Silvergrid Fishshops, even went up to Scotland to pick up the spuds from the farms. We had loads of laughs but very little cash.

I started at Doxfords later the same year. I went for the test, passed because all of my mam's brothers worked there - Tosh the welder, Bob the plater, Joe the burner, Jim the painter and my grandad Bob Hall who was the plater's helper.

Billy Akinson, who looked after the apprentices said 'Son, we will make you a plater, job for life' and looking back, I think 'aye ya were reet, Billy, but not on Wearside'. I did the lot, all of them, Doxies Deptford, Palmers Hill, JLS, Greenwells then moved back to Doxfords, when the new yard was finished.

Germany, that's the place

I started in the sub-assembly shop, and shortly after, I was teamed up with my mate Tommy Wheelans. Tommy was about 60, he had been all over and he told me all the tales. He said 'Germany, son, that's the place'. He told me about various shipyards that he had worked in, including Blohm und Voss in Hamburg. He even taught me a bit of German and that's how it all started.

Everybody that's ever worked away knows that the jobs where advertised in Thursday's edition of The Sun, well, at least they were in 1979, the shipyards holidays.

'I'll give it a go' I thought, 'if it doesn't work out I'll come back after the holidays no-one's the wiser'. I phoned up, the man said 'only blokes with German experience wanted', 'that's me son' I said and mentioned Hamburg and Blohm und Voss. 'Do you speak any German, son?' they asked, and I replied 'not really, but I know what the tools are called'. 'That will do' they said 'welcome to Germany, Bobby'.

Bob and a fellow German shipbuilder

I was picked up at Hamburg Airport and taken to my digs. I started the next day - it didn't take them long to find out that I had never been to Germany in my life, but I was willing and keen to learn, so they gave me a chance.

Treated differently back home

Hamburg was an eye opener for a young lad, sex for sale openly, if you wanted a drink 5am in the morning, it was no problem. The money was good and it was like a brand new world. When you came home, people treated you differently after you had worked abroad, you were jack the lad and all that. After that, I never worked in England again.

Suddenly it was like being in a secret society, firms would phone asking if you wanted work. I went back to Hamburg in January 1980, working for a company building bottle washing plants for Greece. This was factory work and aΜύdifferent kettle of fish all together. I finished the contract and was asked to go back but I politely declined.

In the summer of 1980 I got a phone call, asking if I fancied Flensburg, I said I would think about it and it was off to the town look up Flensburg - it's the most northern town in Germany, on the border to Denmark. The main industry there is shipbuilding, so it was off to Flensburg for me.

Next stop, Flensburg

I boarded the ferry in North Shields with a load of Geordies heading for the same place as myself. It's always the same blokes you meet away Paddies, Scousers, Jocks and Geordies, places where the unemployment is high.

Relaxing with friends in Germany

The men had to travel. In them days, you signed the dole every two weeks, so you signed then travelled, you worked two weeks before you got any money, so at least the family had money coming in.

Flensburg is a lovely old town, it was the last seat of government just before the end of the war, elsewhere the Russians where raping and robbing. Flensburg was under British control, and even today we are well thought of. They built subs here in the war, but suffered little damage, so, all in all, a piece of cake.

The Brits worked together, building ship sections. I worked in the yard for two years travelling to and from England. By this time Maggie Thatcher had closed the yards in Sunderland, so it was work in Germany or dole in Sunderland. Not much of a choice really was it.

I have worked in the same yard for 25 years now, my brother, a shipwright works here too. We live in the same street. My son Andrew also works in the yard as a welder, we are a union yard. I am a shop stewart now and we have work until 2012.

Do I miss Sunderland - well, it's home isn't it."

By Bob Robinson