Q&A with author Nick Eliason

We sat down with debut author Nick to ask him some questions about his book Cold War Candles and the background to some of the stories told within. Here's what he had to say...

Personal Journey & Motivation

What was going through your mind the moment you were expelled from school?
At first, total shock—didn’t see it coming at all. Then came the dread of my dad’s reaction, which… well, let’s just say he didn’t take it too well. But not long after that, I’ll admit, there was this creeping feeling of freedom—no more school!

You mention that joining the Merchant Navy was partly to avoid a kibbutz. How different do you think your life would have been had you taken that path?
I had absolutely no intention of ending up stuck on a kibbutz. That just wasn’t going to happen. To be honest, I hadn’t really thought through any alternatives at that point, but I suppose something like the armed forces would’ve been more up my street if I had to choose.

Did you ever regret the decision to go to sea—or did you know early on it was the right call?
Not at all. At the time, I thought I’d give it a year or so—get a feel for it, then find something land-based. But slowly, bit by bit, life at sea just drew me in. Looking back, no regrets whatsoever.

Training & Early Impressions

What was the most shocking part of cadet training at Warsash for someone with no seafaring background?
Realising just how out of my depth I was! Most of the other cadets came from coastal towns—shipping was in their blood. I was from Knebworth and didn’t know a hawser from a halyard. The syllabus felt massive and way over my head at first.

How did you adapt from a landlocked upbringing in Knebworth to life on the open sea?
Surprisingly well, actually. I was only seasick once—on my very first day at sea! That did make me wonder if I’d made a huge mistake. But the excitement of it all, the sense of adventure—it kept me going. Everything was new, and that made it fascinating. I got on with the officers, had a good laugh, and the work was rarely dull. Bridge watches were a real eye-opener. That’s when I started to think, “Maybe I can do this.”

What was the hardest part of your very first voyage aboard the Manipur?
Being away for so long. Seven months! Before that, the furthest I’d been was a week in Spain with a mate. I missed home, my friends, all the usual comforts—but once I settled into the rhythm, it became part of the job.

Adventure & Danger

There’s an incredible story about nearly colliding with a gas barge in Houston—what were you thinking in that moment?
Honestly? I was desperately trying to make sure I understood the pilot’s orders correctly. My brain was going a hundred miles an hour—“Port? Starboard? Don’t screw this up!” It was intense, but we made it through.

How real was the threat of Gaddafi’s submarine attack on QE2, and how did it affect the mood on board?
Oh, it was very real—but I didn’t know the full extent of it at the time. We had a shotgun, though! I figured, “What could possibly go wrong with a cadet on the lookout, armed and ready?” If the senior officers or MOD knew more, they kept it under wraps. For me, it just added to the excitement.

Which port or experience was the most surreal or culturally jarring?
Definitely getting arrested in Callao, Peru. That was a culture shock and then some.

Humor & Anecdotes

When you're in the pub and the situation allows, what is your favourite story to tell?
It’s tough to pick just one. Depends on the mood, the crowd, and how many pints we’re in!

Can you tell us more about the infamous chocolate shortage aboard the Manipur?
Oh yes—the legendary chocolate drought! We had enough to last six months… until the second engineer’s wife discovered her love for the stuff. She managed to polish off the whole lot in about a month. Impressive, in a way!

What’s one moment that made you laugh out loud—then and still today?
Without a doubt, the time the second engineer went for a shower just as the carpenter decided to flush the sewage system with compressed air. The screams! And the look on his face when he burst out of his cabin—unforgettable.

Romance & Emotion

You write about a relationship behind the Iron Curtain. How did that unfold, and what were the challenges?
That’s a story in itself—and too layered to sum up quickly. Best to read the last third of Cold War Candles if you're curious.

Was it difficult to maintain relationships on land while spending so much time at sea?
Of course it was. Some manage, but most of us didn’t. I was definitely in the “didn’t” category. That said, the world’s full of interesting people. When one door closes…

Reflection & Legacy

Looking back, what does the term “seafarer” mean to you now?
It’s something I’m really proud of. Those years were special. Back then, a seafarer had to master real skills—none of the automation or satellite aids we’ve got today. British seafarers had a long, proud tradition, and I feel lucky to have been part of that when it still meant something.

Are there any values or life lessons from those years at sea that you still live by today?
Absolutely. Treat every adventure like it’s worth remembering—because it probably is. Take photos, keep journals, save the letters. You never know when you’ll want to look back—or write a book!

How do you feel about the decline of the British merchant navy since those days?
It was bound to happen, really. Containerisation and bulk carriers changed everything. These days, seafarers are probably safer and more comfortable, but they don’t get to experience the world like we did. There was a magic to it that’s hard to explain—but I’m glad I caught it before it faded.

Writing & Memory

How did you go about reconstructing so many vivid scenes and emotions for the book?
Diaries, letters, photos—they were a godsend. I kept a fair bit over the years, and it turned out my dad had kept every letter I’d ever sent home. That was a revelation. A lot of those details I’d completely forgotten. It took over a year to gather it all and get it right. And no fiction—just the truth, as it happened.