Dart Smohen
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TheSneakster
Well-known member
You can try searching for "Joe Von Staden" ("Dart Smohen"'s real name which he revealed, so I am not "outing" him) and "History of the Sea Org".
Are you sure Joe was Dart? I thought it was Neville something?
He-man
Hero extraordinary
Dart Smohen: The Real Story - PDF Free Download
Dart Smohen: The Real Story by Dart Smohen Additional Commentary by Alan C. Walter 2008 by Dart Smohen and Alan C. Walter You have permission to download this, this, print this and pass it along
Karen#1
Well-known member
Yes.
Dart Smohen outed himself as Neville Chamberlin a long time ago.
Joe Van Staden wrote "The Birth of Sea Org" series on ESMB.
Here is the link ~~
Excerpt :
BIRTH OF THE SEA ORG – THE DIE IS CAST
By Joe van Staden who served as captain of the Athena and Apollo at various times.
Welcome aboard
Undoubtedly the story of how it all began has been told more than once – each time from a different perspective, obviously. In the following account of my personal involvement in the birth of the SO I hope to provide a perspective which may shed some light on later developments within and around that organization.
My first contact with Scientology was in Johannesburg (1960). There I met L Ron Hubbard for the first time when he came out to South Africa to run the first South African ACC. Toward the end of 1962 I went over to St Hill UK to do my SHSBC. In 1965 I did my class 7 course after which my wife Jill and I joined staff at St Hill. At some point LRH mysteriously disappeared from St Hill. As we found out later he had left for Las Palmas.
Most people on staff and on course at St Hill in the early and mid 60’s would agree; it was idyllic. It was a meeting place for likeminded people – people who could not find what they were looking for in life through conventional institutions and teachings. St Hill prospered. I believe that period has even been referred to as the golden age or something like that.
It was very easy to just be and not be concerned as to how you were being. For instance, there was no ethics officer ready to pounce on my friend for doing his yoga exercises out on the lawn at St Hill. Nor was there any reason to think that that might happen. The typical molded org persona, with all its heaviness, which became so prominent in later years, just wasn’t there.
How did this seriousness come about? In the simplest of terms; when did the “spirit of play” go out of being on staff and was it necessary? Perhaps I can offer a feasible perspective on that.
One day several senior St Hill staff members were approached by Joan Thomas. At that point I was Qual sec and my wife Jill was either Dissem sec or HCO at the time. A bunch of us were recruited into the Sea Project and told to get our sailing skills in order. So, once a week off we went to the south coast and had our sailing lessons. It was fun and we also did learn to sail – somewhat.
Several weeks passed and came the day the group was bundled onto a bus and taken to Hull in the north on the Humber River. By this time we knew we were joining a ship but had no idea what to expect. As the bus entered this particular section of the harbor we saw her. Listing about 10 degrees, rusted and battered, there she was; the Avon River – a North Sea fishing trawler pushed to her limits by her previous owners. I looked at my fellow passengers. For a moment there was stunned silence. Then a kind of confused nervous laughter started spreading around the bus. Was it excitement, I don’t think so. I think at that instant it was more a case of; What the F….. is this?
For various reasons I will refrain from using the full names of some of my old shipmates and instead just use initials.
Anyway we settled in. The temporary captain was FM; he and two others had been aboard prior to our arrival.
Without much delay the crew was put to work cleaning and getting the boat ready for sea. Keep in mind the Avon River was a fishing boat – her decks were covered in about 2 inches of solid petrified fish oil, all of which had to be scraped off. For several weeks we worked long hours but as far as I can remember, not a single crew member lacked in enthusiasm and commitment. In the evenings we worked on our seamanship check-sheets – it was a long day. And tired as we were when we hit our bunks late at night, nothing could dampen our spirits and anticipation of what lay ahead. Well, maybe at times the grey damp Hull weather got to us.
If my memory serves me right the Avon River had room for 140 tons of fish in her hold, which now was filled with all sorts of bits and pieces scavenged from other derelict boats. To this day I don’t know what LRH wanted to do with it. The stuff was later dumped in Las Palmas.
Initially we were to tow a barge filled with even more of this “junk”. Fortunately that Idea was dropped. Looking back and recalling some of the weather we had to contend with on our trip, I can’t imagine us managing to tow a barge all the way to Las Palmas.
While in Hull we did some real live docking and undocking drills. This picture should suffice in getting across what most of it was like. Imagine the Key Stone cops as would be sailors, falling all over each other as the boat rammed up against the concrete dock, snapping mooring lines and breaking anchors. As they say; you had to be there.
Eventually the day of departure arrived. Originally the idea was that the trip be done without any non-scientologist help. In the end however, LRH thought better of it. He told us to hire a professional captain and a professional chief engineer for the trip, which we did By the way, the chief engineer arrived in a taxi motherless drunk minutes before our departure and had to be carried aboard.
Sailing down the East coast of England something broke in the engine room forcing us to pull into Harwich. It’s possible that this was simply a ploy by the chief engineer to go ashore – maybe to buy booze. Anyway, repairs done we headed south. Up to then the weather had been kind, but shortly after leaving Harwich Neptune decided to introduce himself properly.
Most of the crew, myself included, had never seen anything like this – mountains and valleys of green sea. The propeller kept coming out of the water. Perhaps someone who was there will say that they were the exception, but as far as I know everyone including the hired captain was sea sick.
Gradually the wind eased and our trip along the south coast of England became quite pleasant. At Falmouth we had to pull in and refuel for the long stint to the Canary Islands. Something went wrong during fueling and the black bunker fuel began to spill all over the decks. Fortunately we prevented too much of the stuff spilling into the harbor. It was during this episode that the tension between the hired captain and the temporary Scientologist captain came to a head. FM packed his bags and left the boat. .
By the time we got well into the Atlantic we had this wonderful gentle following swell and no wind. Most of us very soon got our sea legs and began feeling really at home on the bounding main.
~~
++++++++++++++++++++
(User name on ESMB was Joe Van Staden)
Both Neville and Joe Van Staden wrote about early Sea Org days.
They are 2 different people that were original Sea Org members on the Apollo.
IMages : Joe and Jill Van Staden are from South Africa.
Both of them fled, escaped, blew.
Last edited:
ILove2Lurk
Lisbeth Salander Redux
Yes, this is so. I didn't say anything as I didn't want to get on TheSneakster's bad side.
Karakorum
Ron is the source that will lead you to grief
Thanks. Was Jill ever active on any of the forums or otherwise wrote about her experiences in the 60s or in Copenhagen? I'd love to hear about the early 70s.Yes.
Dart Smohen outed himself as Neville Chamberlin a long time ago.
Joe Van Staden wrote "The Birth of Sea Org" series on ESMB.
Here is the link ~~
Excerpt :
BIRTH OF THE SEA ORG – THE DIE IS CAST
By Joe van Staden who served as captain of the Athena and Apollo at various times.
Welcome aboard
Undoubtedly the story of how it all began has been told more than once – each time from a different perspective, obviously. In the following account of my personal involvement in the birth of the SO I hope to provide a perspective which may shed some light on later developments within and around that organization.
My first contact with Scientology was in Johannesburg (1960). There I met L Ron Hubbard for the first time when he came out to South Africa to run the first South African ACC. Toward the end of 1962 I went over to St Hill UK to do my SHSBC. In 1965 I did my class 7 course after which my wife Jill and I joined staff at St Hill. At some point LRH mysteriously disappeared from St Hill. As we found out later he had left for Las Palmas.
Most people on staff and on course at St Hill in the early and mid 60’s would agree; it was idyllic. It was a meeting place for likeminded people – people who could not find what they were looking for in life through conventional institutions and teachings. St Hill prospered. I believe that period has even been referred to as the golden age or something like that.
It was very easy to just be and not be concerned as to how you were being. For instance, there was no ethics officer ready to pounce on my friend for doing his yoga exercises out on the lawn at St Hill. Nor was there any reason to think that that might happen. The typical molded org persona, with all its heaviness, which became so prominent in later years, just wasn’t there.
How did this seriousness come about? In the simplest of terms; when did the “spirit of play” go out of being on staff and was it necessary? Perhaps I can offer a feasible perspective on that.
One day several senior St Hill staff members were approached by Joan Thomas. At that point I was Qual sec and my wife Jill was either Dissem sec or HCO at the time. A bunch of us were recruited into the Sea Project and told to get our sailing skills in order. So, once a week off we went to the south coast and had our sailing lessons. It was fun and we also did learn to sail – somewhat.
Several weeks passed and came the day the group was bundled onto a bus and taken to Hull in the north on the Humber River. By this time we knew we were joining a ship but had no idea what to expect. As the bus entered this particular section of the harbor we saw her. Listing about 10 degrees, rusted and battered, there she was; the Avon River – a North Sea fishing trawler pushed to her limits by her previous owners. I looked at my fellow passengers. For a moment there was stunned silence. Then a kind of confused nervous laughter started spreading around the bus. Was it excitement, I don’t think so. I think at that instant it was more a case of; What the F….. is this?
For various reasons I will refrain from using the full names of some of my old shipmates and instead just use initials.
Anyway we settled in. The temporary captain was FM; he and two others had been aboard prior to our arrival.
Without much delay the crew was put to work cleaning and getting the boat ready for sea. Keep in mind the Avon River was a fishing boat – her decks were covered in about 2 inches of solid petrified fish oil, all of which had to be scraped off. For several weeks we worked long hours but as far as I can remember, not a single crew member lacked in enthusiasm and commitment. In the evenings we worked on our seamanship check-sheets – it was a long day. And tired as we were when we hit our bunks late at night, nothing could dampen our spirits and anticipation of what lay ahead. Well, maybe at times the grey damp Hull weather got to us.
If my memory serves me right the Avon River had room for 140 tons of fish in her hold, which now was filled with all sorts of bits and pieces scavenged from other derelict boats. To this day I don’t know what LRH wanted to do with it. The stuff was later dumped in Las Palmas.
Initially we were to tow a barge filled with even more of this “junk”. Fortunately that Idea was dropped. Looking back and recalling some of the weather we had to contend with on our trip, I can’t imagine us managing to tow a barge all the way to Las Palmas.
While in Hull we did some real live docking and undocking drills. This picture should suffice in getting across what most of it was like. Imagine the Key Stone cops as would be sailors, falling all over each other as the boat rammed up against the concrete dock, snapping mooring lines and breaking anchors. As they say; you had to be there.
Eventually the day of departure arrived. Originally the idea was that the trip be done without any non-scientologist help. In the end however, LRH thought better of it. He told us to hire a professional captain and a professional chief engineer for the trip, which we did By the way, the chief engineer arrived in a taxi motherless drunk minutes before our departure and had to be carried aboard.
Sailing down the East coast of England something broke in the engine room forcing us to pull into Harwich. It’s possible that this was simply a ploy by the chief engineer to go ashore – maybe to buy booze. Anyway, repairs done we headed south. Up to then the weather had been kind, but shortly after leaving Harwich Neptune decided to introduce himself properly.
Most of the crew, myself included, had never seen anything like this – mountains and valleys of green sea. The propeller kept coming out of the water. Perhaps someone who was there will say that they were the exception, but as far as I know everyone including the hired captain was sea sick.
Gradually the wind eased and our trip along the south coast of England became quite pleasant. At Falmouth we had to pull in and refuel for the long stint to the Canary Islands. Something went wrong during fueling and the black bunker fuel began to spill all over the decks. Fortunately we prevented too much of the stuff spilling into the harbor. It was during this episode that the tension between the hired captain and the temporary Scientologist captain came to a head. FM packed his bags and left the boat. .
By the time we got well into the Atlantic we had this wonderful gentle following swell and no wind. Most of us very soon got our sea legs and began feeling really at home on the bounding main.
~~
++++++++++++++++++++
(User name on ESMB was Joe Van Staden)
Both Neville and Joe Van Staden wrote about early Sea Org days.
They are 2 different people that were original Sea Org members on the Apollo.
IMages : Joe and Jill Van Stadenare from South Africa.
Both of them fled, escaped, blew.
View attachment 11016View attachment 11017
guanoloco
As-Wased
guanoloco
As-Wased
TheSneakster
Well-known member
OK, well good thing there are other people around who have better memory than I do.
My apologies.
My apologies.
Karakorum
Ron is the source that will lead you to grief
Well, I guess they weren't lying when they said true clears have perfect memories.
I'm sure I mixed up some stuff of my own. There's some people I remember vividly - name, surname, where they came from, what was their SO career cycle... And then there's people that I just keep drawing blanks ie: "There was that guy who was ADU IC... what was his name now? I think he was Dutch... or Danish... Scottish maybe?"
TheSneakster
Well-known member
And that comment is supposed to be relevant to me, somehow ?Well, I guess they weren't lying when they said true clears have perfect memories.
ILove2Lurk
Lisbeth Salander Redux
Thanks as per Karen’s message below it’s not Joe, but thanks for your help.
What a crock of bull
Thank you
Karakorum
Ron is the source that will lead you to grief
Just a general "Hubbard's claims about clears" joke, admittedly inspired by your post.
It wasn't a personal attack on you at all. It is human to forget things. I've made the exact same sort of "All clears have bad memory" joke at my own expense a few times on the forums as well.
It was meant in good humour Michael, no slight upon your good self intended.
Good god, not the Neville Chamberlain I'm thinking of?
He'd be a VERY old man now, if that was the case...