Navigating the hotel buffet

 

Navigating the hotel buffet breakfast

It starts with timing. When between the opening and closing time should you venture onto the breakfast floor? Should you go early hoping to miss the crowds eager to fill their stomachs or late just before closing to have a relatively free run?

Whenever you go it starts with a queue and the inevitable identity check. Room number now displays your passport photo so there is no doubt who is eligible to enter.

No free choice of table, you are steered to an available area. You are lucky if you get a sea view.

Given a table and a pot of coffee enables you to plan your next move. A reconnaissance is needed to find out where your favourite cereals are plus a navigation plan to avoid queues especially for the English breakfast.

OK, we will start with a rapid expedition to cereals and juice with a detour to avoid the coffee machines and the queue for the toaster.

Safely back at the table and time to relax and enjoy the start of breakfast.

Cereals finished and the plate whipped away immediately after my last mouthful it is time for the big tour!

Quick observation shows that the queue around the toaster is not too long, and they have just refreshed the bacon and sausage area so it will be an English breakfast. Off the starting blocks, picked up a plate and 2 pieces of bread and arrived at the toaster to find a tourist has taken charge of the queue. After reminding us that his toast is first, he said it was OK to place my bread behind his! Toast finished, jogged over to the English breakfast queue, and started to load a fried egg, a sausage and one piece of bacon when a large, no, fat German pushed in and loaded three of everything on his plate and waddled off holding his plate with both hands.

Back at the table and pleasantly satisfied with a second cup of coffee it is time to enjoy the circus they call buffet breakfast.

There is at least a couple of hundred guests in this long room all vying for food. Mostly European with a majority being English and German they come in all shapes and sizes. Young, old, skinny and fat they rush around in a kaleidoscope of bright clothing or sometimes next to no clothes at all! Clearly some have just arrived. A little self-conscious and unsure of their holiday dress code they stand out with their pale skins. In contrast those that have been here a few days are either brown or red depending on their exposure to the sun.

A constant flow of bodies to and fro provides a pageant of colour and culture that is the hallmark of the holiday hotel buffet breakfast.

 

Off to sea

 

“Saab—Saab”. I heard this voice in my ear. “It’s quarter bell”. “Thanks”, I said to the purri-wallah leaning over me to make sure I was awake. “I’m up now”. The Indian lookout disappeared, and I checked my watch. 2345, so quarter bell means quarter to the start of my watch.

As I stood up, I noticed that the deck kept moving and I was having trouble keeping my balance as I struggled into my still sticky oilskins. Not only that but there was a background noise of water rushing aft and now and then the ship shuddered as she shouldered a wave. Wow, we must be at sea now.

Still a little sleepy after only a couple of hours “kip” the slang word I heard Colin use to mean a short snooze I opened the door to the deck, and it was ripped from my hand and slammed into the bulkhead. “Damn”, hope it did not waken the others”!! The wind was strong, and I could see nothing in the pitch blackness of the night, no stars, no moon, just black everywhere. Door shut I staggered forward along the boat deck from one handhold to the next as the deck constantly heaved up in front of me, slid to port and then to starboard. Then I remembered the advice my grandfather had given me, “one hand for the ship and one hand for yourself”, he said. Definitely needed two hands for myself here, I thought, bugger the ship! Every time the ship rolled the sea seemed to come and meet the ship and then I saw huge waves with breaking tops. Oi this must be a gale, I thought.

Found the bridge ladders and clambered up to the bridge. Searched for the door to the bridge. No handle so with eyes only inches from the door I came across a a sort of brass recess set in the door and tugged it. Nothing happened so tried again and the door started to slide aft. Ah, it is a sliding door, must remember that. Opened it and stepped inside.

“Shut that bloody door”, I recognised the Glaswegian accent of the Second Officer as I bumped into the

engine telegraph. Not a good start to my watch. As my eyes adjusted to the darkness on the bridge an elderly man with grey hair and 4 large gold stripes on his uniform jacket came up to me and said in a gentle voice,” you should always enter the bridge through the leeward door, that is the door on the opposite side to the wind”. “Yes sir, sorry”, I replied thinking this apprentice had a lot to learn on the job!

As my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I could see out of the bridge windows that spray was flying up over the deck and the ship was rolling quite slowly from port to starboard as well as pitching up and down. Every time her bow went into a wave there was a loud bang, the ship shuddered, and spray shot up over the bow. The second officer was stationed in front of a circular rotating glass window that gave him better visibility outside. Having trouble keeping my feet and not knowing what to do I stood by the engine telegraph noticing it indicated that we were going full ahead!

The second officer had disappeared through a curtain into a room behind the bridge when he shouted” make yourself useful and make some tea”. “The kettle is on the shelf beside you, and you fill it from the bathroom behind the chartroom, there”! So that room is called the chartroom. Duly picked up the kettle and staggered across the bridge and through a curtain into a room with a large table facing the bridge on which was a chart and a low light over the chart. OK onto the bathroom and fill the kettle, back to the bridge and plugged in the kettle and waited. Some minutes passed and then a broad Glaswegian voice Was heard; Well, where is the tea?” “The water hasn’t boiled sir”. “You need to switch it on here, you stupid boy!” “Sorry sir I said feeling absolutely despondent and useless. After all I came from Yorkshire and making tea is second nature to us!

“OK, that is enough, get yourself up on the monkey island and keep a lookout”, ordered the second mate,” and use the leeward door”!

So, I was been sent outside into to the wind and rain to some place called a “monkey island”! Outside on the bridge wing it was difficult to keep my feet and see. However, he had said up to the monkey island, so I scouted around and found a vertical iron ladder behind the leeward bridge door. That must be it, so I started to climb up being alternatively hanging on for dear life as the bridge seem to topple over me and then on the next roll the ladder approached the horizontal. Hang on, hang on I thought.

Over the top of the ladder was a platform with a large round object surrounded at waist height by a wooden rail. Not a lot of protection from the weather but at least a rail to hang on to. I peered at the object and through a small window in a brass cover I saw it was a magnetic compass and the compass card was swinging wildly around. So, this is the monkey island but why “monkey”.

Later I found out that there is no real explanation for the term although in sailing ships it was often placed high on the fore or main mast and sailors climbed like monkeys to reach it! Thankfully although I was above the bridge, I was not that high in this weather!

Keeping a lookout seemed impossible as every time I poked my head above the rail my face was stung by salt spray and rain and I could see nothing!

Suddenly there was a muffled whistle from the side of the binnacle housing the compass. There was a brass tube with a cover on it. Lifting it gingerly I peered down it, nothing to see so I said “hello” and there it was that broad Scottish accent again. OK, keep a lookout for lights and report them by blowing down the tube and then telling me what you have seen. OK? OK, sir as I replaced the voice tube cover.

No lights out there as far I could see but anyway this was my duty so braving the driving rain and spray, I searched the blackness for any sign of life out there in the Irish Sea.

Peering over the monkey island rail I could see very little but soon learnt that by squinting with half shut eyes I could bear the constant battering on my face and see a black sky!

I had my oilskins on but had forgotten my sou’wester and in no time water was trickling down my neck inside my oilskins and I started to feel cold. Only four hours to go!

The motion of the ship up here so high was frightening, rolling from port to starboard and then pitching into waves with a shuddering jolt. Before long I started to feel unwell. What to do if I am sick? Should I climb down the ladder to the bridge leaving my post and search for a toilet? Circumstance decided the issue and I was sick on the monkey island! What will the second mate think? Should I tell him? Then suddenly I had uncontrolled sickness that went on for the rest of my watch. All thoughts of lookout were forgotten as cold and miserable I tried to contain my retching to no avail.

After what seemed a very long time, I heard someone climbing the ladder and Ralph, the other new apprentice appeared to start his 4-8 watch.

Not saying a word, I fled from the monkey island and reported to the second officer who was handing over the watch to the chief officer.

“Well, what a sight you look”, he said. “Get yourself to your bunk”.  Dutifully I staggered along the boat deck into our accommodation shivering and soaking wet. Shed my clothes, cleaned myself up and snuggled into my bunk promising myself that this was the first and last voyage I would do!!

Leaving port

 It’s 19:30 and it’s raining, no not raining, teeming down. The sort of rain that comes at you at an angle and you are wet overall. Well, well a good start to my first action on the ship. Report to stations for leaving port and my station is aft, apparently called the poop deck!

I stepped outside and down the ladder to the after deck trying to avoid all the rubbish and dunnage still lying on deck. As it was dark, and the deck lights were somewhat dim it was not easy.

I am glad Colin told me to put on my oilskins on over my uniform to protect it. So, with these sticky oiled cloth waterproofs I gently steered along the after deck.

Suddenly I tripped over a wire and went “arse over tit” careering along the oily wet deck on my stomach. My brand-new uniform cap with its white cover went spinning into the darkness. What a start.

Then I heard a voice, “Here it is sahib” and there in front of me grinning from ear to ear was an Indian man with bright white teeth! What is this. So, I retrieved my cap, now somewhat less than white and accompanied this person to the poop deck. There were more Indian crew. They were chattering away in a language I could not apprehend. How an earth am I going to cope as a junior officer and communicate with them.

On the poop deck I searched for the Second Officer who was in charge of the after end of the ship.

“Oh nae, not another snot nosed new apprentice, just my luck”, said the officer in a strong Glaswegian accent. Well, it looks as though my luck is out, not only Indian languages but also a Scottish accent to deal with. Oh well.

“See that silver-coloured telephone on the bulkhead over there? That is your station to relay messages to and from the bridge, understand”? Yes sir, I replied eying a box on a wall. So, bulkhead is a wall, I must remember these terms.

Open it, you idiot! Oh, I see there was a clip holding the lid on revealing a telephone handset and a big silver button. “If it rings, you pick it up and repeat the message and then relay it to me. To ring, you press the button and then speak into the handset, OK”?

Yes sir, I replied, somewhat awed by the responsibility placed on my shoulders. Nothing compared with this, being rugby captain in the under 16 team was not a patch on being part of a communication team moving a 10,000-ton ship out of a dock into a river at night. Very exciting!

Water started to seep down inside the neck of my oilskins but what could I do about it?

Eyed the telephone and as though I had wished it, it rang. I picked up the handset and voice that appeared to come from another world, much worse than those train station announcements said; “Single up”. What an earth does that mean but dutifully I repeated it to the caller who then hung up. “Single Up” I shouted to make myself heard to the Second Officer in the rain and wind. OK, he said, then complete turmoil it seemed to me as the crew ran here and there as ropes were moved to the steam winch which let out great clouds of steam before gathering speed and making any conversation impossible! After been slacked off the ropes were hauled in dripping wet and coiled down on deck. Finally, the noise abated, and I noticed that we had only one rope over the stern to the shore and on the main deck one wire leading forward to a bollard on the quay. So, this what singled up means.

“Singled up aft”, shouted the Second Officer. I lifted the phone and repeated the message. No reply! What did they say, said the Scottish second officer? Nothing, I replied. “Did you press the button first”? Sorry sir, I forgot. “Jesus Christ, well do it”. Dutifully followed orders and received acknowledgement of our status aft.

A tug appeared on the starboard side and the crew secured a wire rope to a set of bitts on the main deck. What is this for I wondered?

I did not know was that the ship was in the Vittoria dock in Birkenhead and needed to navigate through the dock and out through a lock into the river Mersey. The Vittoria dock was built in the first part of the 1900’s as part of the larger Birkenhead dock system. The dock was named after the Battle of Vittoria in 1813 when Wellington led an army to take back the Spanish peninsula. However there has always been confusion over the name and many calls it the Victoria dock in reference to Queen Victoria.

All the major liner services from Liverpool used the dock including, Blue Funnel, Clan Line, City Line and Brocklebanks.

The Vittoria dock was one of the innermost docks in the Birkenhead dock system and required the ship to pass through other docks before reaching the lock into the river Mersey. It was going to be a long and wet evening!

Then the telephone rang again. “Let go everything” from this ethereal voice so I relayed it to the Second Officer. Frantic activity with the steam winches clunking away bellowing steam until finally the stern rope and the main deck spring wire were on board.

“All gone aft”, bellowed the second officer a few minutes later. After having confirmation of the message from the bridge the whole stern of the ship started to vibrate and over the side the dirty dock water was churned up into a frothy stream. The propeller was turning, and the tug gave a single blast on its whistle and started to pull us from the dockside.

Wow I am on first voyage, what next? Well, I was soon to find out!

For a period of about an hour we were pulled and pushed gently down through the dock to the lock separating the dock system from the river. We entered the lock without our tug, the inner lock gates closed, and the ship descended as water was pumped out of the lock. Once we reached the same water level as the river the outer lock gates opened and a new river tug connected to our bow to assist us in turning in the river.

The rain continued to sluice down and by now not only was I wet through, but I was shivering from the cold. Not liking this at all, I thought.

Once in the river and the ships bow turned seawards, we let go the tug, disembarked the dock pilot, and took on a river pilot. This all happened with the use of a ladder made of rope with wooden steps that was slung over the side of the ship from the main deck. So climbing and descending rope ladders down a ships side looks like being a new experience!

The telephone rang. Finished with stations aft was the message and the Second Mate shouted that we were finished with our work on leaving port. Turing to me he said, “laddie, get back to your cabin, dry yourself off and have a nap because in an hour and half you start watches with me on the bridge”. Sounded like good advice as I scurried forward to our cabin on the boat deck.

 

Shipping for dummies - containerisation

 

Globalisation and Containerisation

The birth of the container

Background

Technology has always brought about changes in transport and shipping is no exception. It was the Industrial Revolution in the late 1800’s that brought us steel and the steam engine that enabled the birth of the steamship. The creation of the general cargo liner and its scheduled voyages brought secure and regular services globally.

This lasted well into the 1950’s when again technology changed the face of international shipping. The general cargo liner provided a custom transport service at a price. It was labour intensive and very slow with many disruptions of delivery from producer to consumer. Delays in the port because of port congestion did not help.

Deregulation

After the Second World war nations tightly controlled their economies using trade and tariff tools to boost income and setting transport prices nationally and regionally. The result was that transport and shipping costs were high and production and manufacturing of goods and services was relatively local. British cars were produced in the UK with British finance for a British market. Export of cars was relatively low.

It became clear in the 1960’s that this approach was restrictive and not boosting nationally economies as planned.

So, deregulation of trade and tariff barriers allowing market forces to take effect under GATT (The General Agreement on Tariffs and Trade) and WTO (The World Trade Organization) control came into being.

It also enabled services such as finance and transport to operate globally. Thus, a bank could offer financial services in another country and freight rates were opened to market forces.

The result was globalisation. Manufacturing and production now were free to locate wherever the cost regime was favourable to their enterprise. Nissan opened car production in the UK. Honda opened the first Japanese owned car assembly plant in the USA in 1982 and shocked competitors with its ability to organise the timely delivery of engines[1].  The notion of physical location of manufacturing with nationality was broken. -Today we are unaware of the location of many parts of production.

China, now a member of GATT and WTO, could offer low-cost production across a wide range of goods and services and we know the outcome. Western Europe and the USA lost a major part of their manufacturing industries.

Car making is one of the most complex activities with many levels of inputs with supplies crossing national boundaries many times. Many parts are plastic originating in the movement of crude oil and its refining into plastic resin and then into bumpers, steering wheels, and audio consoles, all manufactured in different location and dependent on a global logistics chain to ensure the parts arrive “just in time” for assembly.

As a result, containers carried less of finished consumer products and more of the parts and materials for production.

Unitisation

Assembling production items into larger units reduced handling and transport costs. Whether it be bottles, boxes or chests, bottles of orange juice, boxes of wine and chests of tea it changed the method of handling both on land and for maritime transport. However, the focus was on the producer and the transport firm and shippers had to deal with a variety of units and handling methods to transport the goods.

It was only later when the discipline of logistics came into being that a systems approach to production, transport and delivery of goods placed the transport requirements within a global logistics chain. The concern was not only about ship arrival in port but whether the goods train or lorries could meet their deadline to deliver the goods to the ship on time.

This brought about the need for a standardised unit load across all forms of transport. Herald the start of a process of specialisation in the shipping industry.

Specialisation

Technology can be seen as a response to a market need and so it is in the shipping industry. To lower operating costs, improve cargo handling methods, exploit the economies of scale in large scale volume unit ships and meet the specialised demands for the carriage of some goods spawned a whole new range of shipping services. Stopford[2] argues that specialised ships are an identified niche market covering five categories of shipping through lowered operating costs that undercut other ships such as bulk carriers. It can be argued that specialisation covers a wider spread in the shipping market. Oil tankers, container ships and dry bulk carriers are also specialised ships based on the cargo they carry or the standard unit of carriage. So, specialisation has been a recurring feature of shipping development over many decades so that today the notion of break bulk cargo and the general cargo ship is no longer an important feature in the shipping market. Containerisation is one such specialisation that has radically changed seaborne transport.

The birth of the shipping container

[3]The origins of the use of containers to ship goods can be traced back to the late 18^th century in England when an enterprising man designed wooden boxes to haul coal by horses from the coal mine to canal barges for further shipment.[4] Since that time there has been many attempts both on land and at sea to use unitisation to reduce handling costs of cargo. However, it was not until 1955 when an American trucking company owner Malcom McLean built the first intermodal container as a steel box with corner twist lock fittings that standardised ship transport became a reality. He converted a 2^nd world war T2 tanker to carry containers on deck whilst also carrying oil.

From this small experiment in shipping technology exploded the birth of global containerisation.

[5]The first container ship carried 58 containers in 1956 whereas today the largest container ships carry around 20,000 TEU’s. The exploitation of the economies to be gained in scaling up the size of ships and reducing the unit cost of transporting

containers started a competition between shipping companies. It started with Maersk and the E class Emma Maersk built in 2006. The biggest ship ever built in its class with a gross tonnage of 171,000 GT, a capacity of 14000 TEU driven by a giant diesel engine producing 81MW. McKinsey in its report of the future of containers suggest the peak of container ship capacity has not been reached and 50,000 TEU ships may come in the future.

[6]The competition responded and the size of vessels increased to over 20,000 TEU. In 2021 the largest container ship in the world is the Ever Ace from Evergreen shipping of Taiwan with a capacity of 23,992 TEU. With a length of 400 metres, a beam of 62 metres and a draft of 13.4m it is a giant ship.

A consequence of this competition was a series of mergers that reduced the number of container shipping companies. Today the five largest companies control over 60 percent of the world’s container trade.[7]

The weak link

A global supply chain is only as good as its ability to function effectively. Larger container ships demanded new and larger port facilities. Large land areas adjacent to the quayside utilising fully automated handling equipment both at the quay side and in the storage area radically changed the demand for dock labour. Less manual work with fewer dockers with skills to operate container cranes and stackers became the norm. Many traditional ports and dock areas were unable to meet the criteria required for container operations. As Professor Bird noted in his book “the march to the sea” was the inevitable result of larger vessels with deeper drafts.[8]

These larger ships also demanded improved seamanship to manoeuvre such high unwieldy ships at low speed. Many port pilots needed further training to meet these new demands.

The COVID effect

Nobody could anticipate the effect of this global virus on the global supply chain, but it has left its mark.

Firstly, the outbreak of the virus in China shut much of the production in that country and reduced the demand for container ships. As the virus spread, so isolation and quarantine of individuals around the world and especially in Europe and the USA changed the pattern of consumer spending. No longer able to travel their surplus money was used on consumer products and home projects. So now there was a massive demand for materials and services that could not be fully met. A classic example was the production of computer chips that reduced manufacturing capacity for smartphones, computers, car parts and consequently delays and price rises resulted. Once production came on stream again, the supply of containers could not meet the demand and the freight rates for a container more than quadrupled[9] and container ships were fully employed. Now, the ports could not handle the massive increase in traffic and as of September 2021 there is the biggest congestion of container ships in American and European ports producing further delays in delivery.

The question now is whether all the goods will arrive as planned!

 

 

---

[1] Levinson, Marc: Outside the box: How globalisation changed from moving stuff to spreading ideas:

[2] Stopford, Martin (Maritime Economics,3^rd. edition) page 470

[3] Courtesy of MobilBox UK (https://www.mobilbox.co.uk/history-shipping-container/1472)

[4] Ripley, David (1993). The little Eaton Gangway and Derby canal (2nd ed.) Oakwood Press. ISBN 0-85361-431-8

[5] McKinsey & Company: Container Shipping: The next 50 years, 2017

[6] Courtesy of the Taiwan English News August 8^th 2021

[7] McKinsey & Company: Container Shipping: The next 50 years, 2017

 

[8] Bird,J.H: Seaports and seaport terminals: 1971

[9] The Economist; September 18^th-24^th 2021: page 61

Settling in

The Chief Officers cabin door was open. I knocked on the door frame and a voice shouted, “Come in”. Somewhat tentatively I entered a room where a man sat a desk with papers strewn everywhere. Clearly he was a senior officer for over the back of his chair was a uniform jacket with three gold bands on it. He was a slight figure with receding hair and a worried expression on a pale drawn face. “Ah”, he said, “You are the last of the new bunch to arrive, welcome to the “Mahout”, we are finishing off loading this afternoon and we sail on the evening tide”. 

You will be on watches and share a watch with the Second Officer. This means you will also work aft for leaving port working with him.

 For now, get yourself aft to the Apprentices accommodation and settle in. Go out of that door behind you, down the ladder and past number three hatch, up the next ladder to the boat deck. Walk along the boat deck until you find accommodation at the after end of that deck”, Got it? Yes sir, said understanding about half of it, watches, Second Officer, what does all this mean? 

No time to reflect now, get out on deck and find my accommodation. Perhaps I will have a cabin like the Chief Officers but a little smaller and simpler, I thought as I stepped out on a wet boat deck dragging my kit.

Immediately I was nearly decapitated by a wire hook moving across the deck on two wires attached to large metal poles. At this stage I had no idea what derricks were or what they did but I was learning quickly that when you go out on deck, be careful! 

So creeping past the open hatch before the next item of cargo appeared over the ships rail I went up the ladder as instructed, past large black ventilators and the funnel until I came to the after rail of the boat deck. There was a metal hut, it seemed, quite separate from any other accommodation. At the rear end of it was a teak door with a brass plate over it declaring this was for apprentices.

 I remember the plate was bright and shiny with the remains of Brasso polish around it edges. Who cleans that, I wondered as I stepped over the threshold.

The apprentice accommodation was a separate unit from all officer accommodation at the after end of the boat deck overlooking hatch number 4. Inside were two cabins each with two bunk beds and each cabin was separated from each other by a common bathroom and recreational room that I learnt was called a messroom.

Immediately I entered I smelled pipe tobacco smoke and on entering the mess I met an older apprentice smoking a pipe. He must have been at least 18 years old! Colin was his name and he came from Wales speaking in that lilting dialect that the Welsh have when they speak English! He was on his 4th.  voyage so was an experienced seaman that would help us through our initiation into the seaman’s world.

There were two other fresh apprentices that had joined earlier that day so we were four in total. They had already been assigned cabin and bunks and the only free bunk was the upper one in the port cabin. Colin told us to pack out and assemble in the mess were he would explain our duties. !5 minutes later in the messroom through clouds of smoke Colin started to explain how we would work.

We would work in watches which appear to be some weird division of the 24 hour day into blocks of 4 hours work and then 8 hours off, night and day! So my thoughts of working during the day and then relaxing in the evening and having a good nights sleep were dashed from the start. Apparently there are 4 watches in a day:

0000-0400 and 1200-1600

0400-0800 and 1600-2000

0800-1200 and 2000-2400

Each senior officer was in charge of a watch. The chief officer took the 0400-0800 watch that enabled him to work during the day with the crew whilst the most junior officer took the 0800-1200 watch so that the Captain could keep an eye on him without losing too much sleep!

The Second officer took the midnight to 0400 watch often called the graveyard watch during the night and then could turn up at 1200 to take sights to take part in celestial navigation to establish our position at sea.

Guess who was assigned to the graveyard watch? You guessed right, me!

Ok said Colin? Well I guess so, had we a choice? No! In addition, he said that each apprentice was assigned to a station for leaving and arrival in port. The assignment related to the senior officer whose watch you were assigned to. The Chief Officer was in the bow, the third officer on the bridge and the Second Officer was responsible for the stern of the ship.

His final comment was that we went to “stations” at 2000 to leave port. That left us a few hours to relax! But wait a minute, leaving port at 2000 and then starting a watch at midnight seems like a long, long night. Better get some sleep or as Colin said “get my head down” for a couple of hours!

Scuttling a ship

 

 

Scuttling a ship

  Scuttling is defined as the deliberate sinking of a ship. There are many plausible and even honourable reasons for this activity of sinking of vessel. The ship may constitute a navigational hazard and its removal from a port approach, for example by sinking reduces the hazards to navigation. A ship may have a fire or explosion and become impossible to save yet it constitutes a danger to shipping. Sinking it might be considered the solution. A classic example of this was the super tanker Torrey Canyon off the Scilly Islands of South West England. The UK government called in the Air Force to bomb it without the result they hoped for!

Today any deliberate or accidental sinking must take account of the environmental consequences of such an act. Oil pollution is often the result from leaking cargo or engine or generator fuel. One environmentally friendly scuttling of a ship is to provide an artificial underwater habitat. These have been successful once the removal of all contents leaves the ship clean.

Remember that a ship, especially today’s mega ships, are a very valuable asset carrying a very valuable cargo whether it is oil, dry bulk cargo or containers. So they need insurance to cover any eventual loss of cargo or ship or both. Such high insurance premiums are generally placed with large well-known insurance broking houses that can share the insurance load amongst it’s members.

But, what if the scuttling of a ship was a deliberate act in order to claim insurance repayment? Akin to burning your house down or driving your car into a lake and claiming it was an accident. For older vessels such insurance repayment would exceed the freight revenue from legitimate trading.

There is an increasing number of these events often setup by criminal networks using excuses for piracy, fire and structural failure to explain the disappearance of a ship.

One, well documented case, can be read in the true-life case of a ship in the book “Dead in the water” by Matthew Campbell and Kit Chellel

 

 

Report on board S.S. Mahout 1400 GMT Birkenhead Friday latest.

I don’t remember much about the journey to Birkenhead except it was raining.

It would have been one of my first train journey’s alone as a sixteen-year-old boy off to sea.

In 1957 the options for getting across the river Mersey were by ferry or by the tunnel. Probably used a taxi and the tunnel to arrive at Birkenhead docks.

The ship was berthed in the Vittoria docks, the main dock for ships trading with the Far East. Clan Line, Blue Funnel and Brocklebanks all used this dock.

The entrance to the quay where the ship was moored was through a warehouse so I gingerly went through a large door into a world of noise and apparent chaos. Stack of boxes, steel pipes, tractors, cement blocks all lay around in this vast space. There were dockworkers everywhere loading tractors with goods and driving them out to the quay. “Get out of the way, you stupid sod”, shouted a man by the door to the quayside. “You will get killed if you do not watch where you are going!”. So I dragged my suitcase and duffle bag after me, dodged around a pile of sacks about to be lifted by crane and stood at the side of this high black steel hull. I noticed that the side of the ship was newly painted in black and rather than a smooth surface to the steel it was pitted and rough from many years of being at sea, I thought. There was also a little dent right in front of me, so the ship must have been in contact with something hard.

Then from way up in the sky I heard this voice. “Laddie, if you are coming on board, move it and get your arse to the gangway!” Turning to my right I saw a steel gangway supported by ropes coming down from somewhere at the top of this menacing hull. So, in my brand-new uniform I stepped onto to a sort of platform at the bottom of some steps and picked up my kit, already I was moving from a land crab to a seafarers language, kit not luggage! Immediately the whole platform and gangway started to sway and I had to grab hold of the manropes to save myself from falling. Nevertheless I was determined to board my first ship in style so throwing my duffle bag over my shoulder and carrying my suitcase in my right hand a hauled myself up to the top and stepped onto the deck.

“And who might you be laddie”, came a voice from an enormous tall and broad man with a distinct highland accent. I thought it should be obvious from my brand-new uniform but seeing the twinkle in the quartermasters’ eyes I replied, Apprentice John Douglas, reporting for duty, Sir. “Ah, you do not call me sir, only senior officers, he replied, laughing and taking my arm. “Go through this door, turn to your right and go up two sets of stairs and find the Chief Officers cabin. Report to him, he is your boss”, he replied chuckling as he steered me over the threshold into the ship. So started my career as a seafarer.