RETIRED ship’s captain Mike Lockwood has sea water in his veins.

In his long career on 38 ships, he has covered the globe – 18 times. From Antarctica and the Arctic to tropical Pacific islands, he has crossed every ocean – delivering supplies, laying telecommunications cables, and relief skippering on Customs patrol boat, dredgers and tugboats. One relief stint was on the Southern Cross passenger liner from Portsmouth to Sydney.

At times, it was dangerous going, especially in the Southern Ocean, but despite the wild crossings to Antarctica from Hobart, the white continent was the most outstanding of all his destinations.

“We’d take supplies, scientists and workers to three locations and stay three months, over the Antarctic summer,” he said.

“On the way down, we’d have huge seas breaking over the ship. I was used to that, but some scientists and tradies were very seasick, they couldn’t leave their bed. Fortunately, we had three doctors on board.

“Our days were spent mainly loading and unloading; there were over 100 people based there so it was a busy place. Plenty of wildlife, of course – whales on the way down, seals and penguins – but for me, seeing those walls of ice, the aurora borealis and a sky full of stars, it was amazing.”

While he loved Antarctica for its unique beauty, his favourite ports were Portsmouth and London for their history. “Places like Sweden were interesting too, different cultures altogether. Going through the Suez Canal with draught horses guiding the ship off the bank; the Panama Canal, much wider and deeper than the Suez. It’s all totally computerised now than 50 years ago, very different times.”

And while he spent a large part of his career on ships, the last nine years as a master, his favourite vessel was a Customs patrol boat which he skippered for 18 months out of Williamstown.

“I loved the speed – it had twin Rolls Royce 25hp engines. It could do 25 knots which for that time was very fast.”

During that time, Mr Lockwood was involved in the search for Australian prime minister Harold Holt, who disappeared while swimming at Cheviot Beach on the Mornington Peninsula.

“We went up and down that coast (facing Bass Strait) for four days. I have no idea what happened to him. It is so easy to drown, even for experienced swimmers and divers like Mr Holt.”

Mr Lockwood could spend up to three months at sea, though one contract – laying cable from Sydney to Fiji – took nine months because of breakdowns and delays.

Despite all his global roaming, exploration beyond ports was limited. “You really have to stay with the ship. I’d maybe get off for a few hours. In the Arctic, half the time I never got ashore. We unloaded supplies on to barges.”

Even when home, Mr Lockwood was at sea.

“I’d be back one day, then on my own boats. All up, I owned 10 commercial boats, scallops in Port Phillip Bay, then shark and crayfish.”

Born in Gippsland, where his parents were dairy farmers, Mr Lockwood became intrigued by all things nautical when he visited an uncle who worked at the docks in Melbourne. He signed on with the Blue Star Line when he was 15.

“I think ships and the sea are in my blood as my mother’s family were ship builders in Scotland.”

When he retired more than 40 years later, Mr Lockwood returned to the land, owning farms in Gippsland, then Heywood. He moved to Portland around 15 years ago. “It’s just a beautiful place, I hope it doesn’t get too much busier,” he said. “The port, the history, it’s a lovely place to live and most people are pretty genuine and helpful.”

In his central Portland home, naturally named Fisherman’s Shack, which he shares with 16-year-old kelpie Brandy, he has an impressive cabinet display of ships in bottles – 27 of the 38 ships he worked on. They were made for him by the lighthouse keeper at Point Lonsdale. He also has a striking model of the three-masted topsail schooner the Alma Doepel, which he briefly worked on before she was restored as a sailing ship.

Mr Lockwood, who recently turned 77, drives along the Lee Breakwater every day to see what ships are in port.

The siren call of the sea, it seems, will forever lure him.