Sunday, 4 September 2022

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!!

Monday, 29 August 2022

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.

 

Thursday, 11 August 2022

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 18th 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 2nd 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,3rd. edition) page 470

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

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

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

 

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

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

Saturday, 23 July 2022

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!

Tuesday, 5 July 2022

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

 

Wednesday, 8 June 2022

 

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.

Monday, 30 May 2022

 

The “Stonegate” incident

[1]

A story of 3 ships and 3 captains in the Second World War

by John Douglas, Yorkshireman and ex seafarer.

Background

My father and grandfather were both seamen in the Merchant Navy at the outset of the Second World War yet neither of them talked much about their experiences. It was much later that my mother provided some insight to their exploits in this period.




It started with one document and two photographs: A bound copy of the London Illustrated News dated

Saturday November 11th. 1939 (1), an original signed copy of the German pocket battleship “Deutschland” (2)and a photocopy of a newspaper cutting with the caption “Mannen med brillene er Captein Randall” (3)!

My mother handed them to me and then gave her version of events in October 1939 concerning my grandfather, Captain F.G.W. Randall, and my father Second Officer George Douglas, both on the cargo ship “Stonegate”.

The resulting story is based on my mother’s story and evidence found in newspapers and documents concerning the early period of the war.

 

The setting

War between Britain and Germany was declared 1st. September 1939 and very quickly Germany started an offensive against British shipping in the Atlantic sinking almost 30 ships in the first month mostly by U-boats in the Western Approaches. Against this background three ships and their captains came to meet in the middle of the Atlantic.


The first ship was the “S.S. Stonegate”, a British tramp ship owned by Turnbull and Scott and Co., a North Yorkshire family shipping company from Whitby with a base in London. The ship was built in 1928 of 5044 grt with a 3 cylinder steam reciprocating engine capable of 10 knots.

Most of the officers were recruited from the North Yorkshire coastal area hence my grandfather from Robin Hoods Bay and my father from Whitby.

The ship departed Tocopilla near Antofagasta in Chile reportedly for Alexandria in Egypt with a cargo of nitrates. She left Tocopilla around the 13th. September 1939 heading for Panama and the Atlantic.

 

The second ship was the German heavy cruiser/pocket battleship “Deutschland” sent to patrol the North


Atlantic and sink allied shipping. With a displacement of 12,630 tons her diesel engines gave a maximum speed of 28 knots.

On 24th. August 1939, before the declaration of war by Britain, she set sail from Wilhelmshaven to establish a position south of Greenland to intercept Allied merchant shipping. Her orders were to strictly follow prize rules that required her to stop and search ships for contraband, evacuate the crews and then sink the ships.

 


The third ship was the American flag merchant ship “City of Flint” that at the beginning of the second world war was been operated by the United States Lines in support of the American Maritime Commission for the American Army. The ship was of 4963grt with steam turbine propulsion capable of 11.5 knots.

She left New York on the 3rd. October 1939 bound for the UK with a mixed general cargo including food.


 

The voyages

The Stonegate left Tocopilla around the 13th. September, some two weeks after the start of World War Two. With a speed of around 8 knots[2] she would transit the Panama Canal and would have cleared the Mona Passage and entered the North Atlantic around the 29th.  September.

The “City of Flint” departed New York for Glasgow and Liverpool (4) on the 3rd.  October.


The Deutschland left Wilhelmshaven in the Baltic Sea on the 24th. August some 3 days after the departure of the Admiral Graf Spee. Their intention was to harry commercial ship traffic in the North and South Atlantic respectively. Both were accompanied by supply ships, the “Westerwald” for the Deutschland and the “Altmark” for the Admiral Graf Spee.  Both sailed north up the neutral coast of Norway and then west and south to their hunting grounds. The Deutschland went furthest to the west before turning south coming to the east coast of Greenland before turning south to start its search for ships. (5)

By the 30th. September she was already midway between the Azores and Newfoundland (6).

So here is the chart constructed from reported dates and ship data.[3]

The routes and positions are based on best estimates and normal navigation practices. For instance it is usual to use the Mona Passage when entering the Atlantic northbound to Europe from the Caribbean.

Also the normal great circle routes normally followed by ships are drawn on the chart.

The destination of the Stonegate is unclear at this point being variously described as Alexandria in Egypt (1) or England. (7) Therefore both the routes to the Mediterranean and the English Channel are drawn.

So as both the City of Flint and the Stonegate prepared to transit the North Atlantic, the Deutschland was already positioned in a central position to intercept them.

The Battle of the Atlantic, as described by Winston Churchill, had already begun and many ships had been sunk by U-boats in the Western approaches to the UK and in the North Sea. However the use of heavy German warships had not yet started but with the Deutschland and her sister ship Graf Spee already in the Atlantic things were about to change.

At this early stage of the war two important features impacted the fates of the City of Flint and the Stonegate. Firstly, America was neutral and did not enter the war until after the attack on Pearl harbour over one year in the future so the City of Flint was a non-combatant in October 1939 even though she was intended for a destination in the UK.

Secondly, convoy systems had been established shortly after the war over the Atlantic[4] and the City of Flint may have intended to join up with an east bound Halifax convoy. However convoys did not extend to ships coming up from the Caribbean (8). As a result the British registered ship Stonegate was alone in her voyage to the UK.

 (9)




The Captains

Stonegate

Captain Fred George William Randall



Captain Fred George William Randall[5], my grandfather, known in the family as “Gramps”, was born in 1879 and started a life at sea aged 15 in 1894 as an apprentice in small ships registered in Whitby. He progressed through able seaman
and was granted a Masters Certificate in 1904 at the age of 25. By this time he had voyaged around the world especially to South America. By 1939 he was 60 years old with 45 years seagoing experience, an experienced seaman by any standards.

[6]  [7]

He married Rachel Anne Emmerson on 13th. September 1905 in Robin Hoods Bay and they had two children, a boy called Fred and my mother Rachel Evelyn Randall.


My grandmother and her parents died in 1933-34 leaving Fred and Evelyn, as she was called, without support as grandfather was at sea.  Fred was sent to relatives and mother, now 26 years old, became housekeeper to grandfather and sailed with him on many voyages around the world. What a life for a young single girl in those days. Riding a camel in Egypt and picnicking in Argentina was just a couple of her life experiences.


My mother trained as a pianist and organist aiming for her LRAM (Licentiate of the Royal Academy of Music) grades but never really came to further her profession. Instead she played piano and organ at home and as an accompanist to amateur and professional singers. When she started to travel with her father, the piano also went on board. Unfortunately it was lost when the Stonegate sank.

She also met my father at sea and in this picture she has her father behind her and her future husband, the second mate, on the right side in the front row.


George Douglas, my father, was born into a fisherman’s family in Whitby in Yorkshire and turned to the sea as a profession. He joined my grandfather’s company Turnbull Scott and they sailed together on the Stonegate and he was the second mate on that voyage in October 1939 as the entry in his discharge book signifies.

It shows that he joined the ship on the 9th. July 1939 in Sunderland and was discharged “at sea” 5th. October 1939 because that was the date the ship sank. The discharge is signed by the Captain, my grandfather, and dated 2nd. November 1939 in South Shields, immediately on their return to the UK. There are no previous records for my father because his discharge book was presumably lost on the ship with the piano!


An indication of the state of mind of my grandfather at the time can be drawn from the fact that he told his daughter to leave the ship in Amsterdam on the previous voyage as he was afraid that there was going to be a war. So she was at home alone whilst her father and boyfriend went back to sea on a voyage to Chile with a world war pending.

So when the Stonegate entered the North Atlantic heading north alone after the start of the Second World War what was going through his mind? His ship was fully loaded with nitrate, slow and unarmed. There was no convoy system and therefore no naval support and he would have no knowledge of the whereabouts of German warships. However he probably did know that when approaching the Western Approaches and nearing the UK he could expect U-boat attacks.

City of Flint

Captain Joseph Aloysius Gainard (10)

[8]Captain Joseph Aloysius Gainard was born on October 11th. 1889 in Chelsea Massachusetts. In 1917 he enlisted in the U.S. Naval Reserve Force, aged 28, as a quartermaster third class and was commissioned as Ensign in 1918. (11)

He saw active duty in the First World War and was aboard the USS President Lincoln when she was sunk with loss of life by a German submarine off the Scilly Islands. He spent 5 days in a life raft before been picked up. The rest of that war he spent in the UK including the transfer of troops to and from France. He was made Lieutenant in 1920 and honourably discharged from service in 1925.

He transferred to the merchant marine and whilst master of the SS Bakersfield in 1929 he was made Lieutenant Commander in the US Naval Reserve.

When the Second World War started he was again at sea and went to the rescue of the British passenger ship Athenia owned by the Anchor-Donaldson line (12). On a voyage from the UK to Montreal with 1103 passengers she was sunk on the 3rd. September 1939 by a German U-boat west of Northern Ireland. A number of ships responded to the distress call from the Athenia including Captain Gainard, now master of the City of Flint. He picked up 236 survivors and took them to Halifax, Nova Scotia. The sinking of a passenger ship was illegal and as many of the passengers were from neutral countries it gained a lot of publicity.

By the time he left New York on his next voyage on the 3rd. October heading back to the UK he was 50 years of age with 22 years seafaring experience. He had been involved in two world wars and experienced both a sinking and a rescue. He was a modest man; “I’m no hero. All I claim to be is just a sailor; right now an officer in the United States merchant marine, once just an officer in the United States Navy.” (13) He was a very experienced professional seaman.

Deutschland

Captain Paul Werner Wenneker

Captain Paul Werner Wenneker was born in 1890 in Kiel Germany into a naval family, and in 1909 at the age of 19 became a midshipman in the German Navy. He joined the cruiser Mainz in 1913 and saw action in the first naval action of the First World War in August 1914 in the Battle of the Heligoland Bight in which the Mainz was sunk and Ensign Wenneker was taken prisoner of war until 1918. In 1919 he returned to the German Navy and served in torpedo boats taking command in 1920. He had various positions both at sea and ashore until 1933 when he became Naval Attaché in the German Embassy in Tokyo, Japan. He was promoted to the rank of contra-admiral and in 1938 he left Japan to become captain of the pocket battleship Deutschland at the age of 49. (14) He was an experienced seaman and a diplomat.


The voyages until the 5th. October

The Stonegate proceeded in a north easterly direction and on the 5th. Of October was in position 31 10N 54 00W indicated by the yellow symbol below. This position helps us determine her destination as had she been heading for Alexandria and the Straits of Gibraltar by a great circle route she would have been much further south and east than her position indicates. In fact, the position on 5th. October is on the great circle route from Mona Passage to the English Channel. Although we cannot discount the possibility that grandpa was taking some “avoiding action” by taking a more northerly route to the Mediterranean it is most likely he was following the normal route to the UK.


 (9)

On the same date the City of Flint was due south of Halifax, the rendezvous port, for eastbound convoys. However there is no indication that she intended to join a convoy and most likely as a neutral ship continued on a great circle route to the UK. The Deutschland zigzagged south and west until she found the Stonegate on the 5th. October.


The sinking of the Stonegate (1)

The morning of 5th. October 1939 at sea some 450 nautical miles ESE of Bermuda was cloudy with a heavy sea running. About 11:00 a look-out reported a warship approaching on the port bow. Captain Randall used his binoculars and quickly confirmed it was a German warship. Quite rapidly a series of flag signals from the warship commanded the Stonegate to heave to and not to use their radio. The Stonegate stopped and the warship rounded her stern and ordered grandpa to abandon ship. A lifeboat from each side was lowered with all the thirty eight members of the crew of the Stonegate on board. Even though there was a heavy sea running the lifeboats made good progress as they had the lever type propulsion system in lieu of oars.


Captain Randall was received with the traditional courtesy of the sea up the starboard side of the warship and on to the quarterdeck of the warship. Although he was wearing civilian clothes at the time he returned the salute of the Captain of the German warship. Then grandpa learnt that the ship was the pocket battleship Deutschland and its captain was contra-admiral Paul Wenneker.

When all the Stonegate’s crew were safely on board, the Deutschland approached the Stonegate on the port quarter at a distance of about one quarter mile and opened fire with her secondary guns. When this did not sink the ship the main armament was used and the Stonegate sank. The Deutschland then turned and headed north. Grandpa stated that he and his crew were treated most kindly whilst on the Deutschland and Captain Wenneker even presented him with a copy of the London Illustrated News of August 12th.[9]

 

The interception of the “City of Flint”

After the Stonegate was sunk, the Deutschland headed in a northerly direction towards the southern point of Greenland. It may be she was heading to her supply ship that would have been in the supply area marked on the map (6) south and west of Greenland to offload her British prisoners of war exactly as the Graf Spee did with the Altmark in the South Atlantic. (15)  


However on the 9th. October in latitude 45.09N longitude 43.22W, some 800 nautical miles north and east from the position of the sinking of the Stonegate the City of Flint was heading north and east towards the UK. It was cloudy and dull in the early evening with a moderate sea running when the lookout reported what seemed to be a fast moving cloud. This quickly was identified as a warship travelling at high speed that turned out to be a German warship, the Deutschland. (10) She came up with the American freighter City of Flint (9) and ordered her to stop using the same flag sequence as used with the Stonegate. It is worth (9)stating that the City of Flint was a neutral vessel displaying a large American flag on the side of the ship. So Captain Wenneker must have known he had stopped a neutral ship.

This act is in accordance with International Law that allows a warship from a country at war to stop and search ships of a neutral nationality to check that their cargo is not prohibited. (10) So a boarding party of 18 German officers and sailors checked the papers of the City of Flint. The result was that the German officer in charge of the boarding party declared that the City of Flint was carrying contraband to the enemy. The specific cargo identified as contraband was lubricating oils and flour. Thus the ship became a prize of war and a prize crew would take over the ship. At the same time the Deutschland signalled that 38 English prisoners of war would also be transferred to the City of Flint on route to a prisoner of war camp in Germany. Grandpa was given a signed, commemorative picture of the Deutschland by Captain Wenneker.


So the City of Flint now had a total complement of around 95 seamen, American, German and English. Whilst the German prize crew under Lieutenant Hans Pussbach were armed and in charge the American crew ran the ship and the English crew had free use of the ship although it was reported that the conditions were not as good as on the Deutschland. (1)

Her my mother’s version differs in that she told me that my father and grandfather were transferred to the SS Altmark which, in fact, was the supply ship for the sister ship to the Deutschland. At this time she was in the South Atlantic. However it is an easy slip of the memory as only four months later in February 1940 the “Altmark incident” in Jøssingfjord in Norway took place where the Royal Navy attacked the Altmark in neutral Norwegian waters and released many English prisoners of war captured by the Graf Spee in the South Atlantic.


Clear evidence that it was the City of Flint can be seen in this photograph of the crew of the City of Flint presumably given to my grandfather.










The  “City of Flint” under a prize crew

So the Deutschland and the City of Flint parted company. The Deutschland to continue raiding in the North Atlantic and the City of Flint intending to sail to Hamburg.

On the 14th. October the Deutschland stopped and sunk by gunfire the Norwegian vessel SS Lorentz W. Hansen on route from New Brunswick to Liverpool with a cargo of timber. At the time Norway was neutral. The Norwegian crew were transferred to the Deutschland and then transferred to another Norwegian vessel, the Kongsdal, on route to Denmark, also neutral at the time. (16) The resulting political furore had implications later in the Stonegate incident. This is in contrast to what happened to the Stonegate crew after transfer to a neutral ship.

The City of Flint headed “a far northerly course” (1) whilst Norris (10) states that Lieutenant Pussbach and Captain Gainard took a north easterly course east of Iceland heading for the northern part of Norway. Clearly the avoidance of meeting British warships was an important consideration and the ship was blacked out to make the ship less visible.


However this course is in conflict with reports from Stonegate crew members in an interview with reporters on arrival in Tromsø. (17) They reported that between the 9th. October and the 17th. October they sailed north and the weather became colder and colder with ice and snow on deck and around the 15th. October they sited 17 icebergs. An examination of ice charts for August 1939 shows that ice and icebergs only existed west of Iceland in the Denmark Strait and in towards the Greenland coast. (18) Also it should be remembered that the Deutschland used this route on its outward leg and subsequently on its return to Germany. Lieutenant Pussbach would have known this was a relatively safe route to use.

They arrived in Tromsø on the 20th. October in the late afternoon some 11 days after leaving the transfer point in the North Atlantic. This is at least 1 days steaming extra to the direct route east of Iceland. Therefore it is safe to assume they took the northerly route. Before arrival in Tromsø on the 17th. October the prize crew overpainted the American flag symbol on the hull and the flying bridge with a Danish flag and painted out the ships name and replaced it with the name “Alf”. The reason for this is not clear but on the 20th. October on approaching Tromsø the ship again flew the German flag.

Arrival in Tromsø

At this point it is worth reflecting on the fate awaiting both the crew of the Stonegate and that of the City of Flint. With an intended destination of Hamburg the crew of the Stonegate would be transferred to a prisoner of war camp to wait out a war of unknown duration whilst for the American crew there was at least an uncertain future!

So why did the City of Flint divert into the neutral port of Tromsø?

International law embedded in The Hague convention (XIII) of 1907 relates to the rights and duties of neutral powers in naval war. (19) Two clauses in that convention is relevant here, clauses 21 and 22. (19)

Clause 21 states:

” A prize may only be brought into a neutral port on account of unseaworthiness,
Stress of weather, or want of fuel or provisions.” …..

Clause 22 states:

“A neutral Power may allow prizes to enter its ports and roadsteads,”……

Further:

“If the prize is not under convoy, the prize crew are left at liberty.”

Whilst specifically not enabling the release of the respective crews on the City of Flint it does provide an opportunity to delay the voyage of the ship and perhaps allow the Norwegian authorities to impound the ship.

The mechanism used to create this diversion was an apparent lack of fresh water. Here, again, there are two different versions on how this came to be.

My mother told me that her father and the other officers deliberately started to drain the fresh water through the fresh water taps they had access to. Norris (10) has a slightly different interpretation. Captain Gainard discussed with his Chief Engineer in the presence of the English speaking prize crew that they were running low on fresh water and would need to replenish it although, in fact, they were not low on water.

Whichever explanation the ruse worked and this initiated the entry into Tromsø port on the 20th. October.

The Norwegian authorities complied with the letter of the Hague Convention, topping up the fresh water tanks, restricting any shore leave for anyone on the ship and ordering it to leave port within 24 hours.

However the crew of the Stonegate were released and the circumstances surrounding this are not entirely clear. My mother stated that on boarding the ship the Norwegian authorities asked if there were prisoners of war on board and the prize crew denied they had any such persons on the ship. Subsequently, according to my mother’s version, the second officer, my father, waved a UK merchant navy ensign from a porthole and it was seen by the Norwegian who returned and released the Stonegate crew. Norris (10) has a different explanation.

Article 6 of the regulations regarding the crews of enemy merchant ships captured by a belligerent (20) states:

“The captain, officers, and members of the crew, when nationals of the enemy State, are not

made prisoners of war, on condition that they make a formal promise in writing, not to

undertake, while hostilities last, any service connected with the operations of the war.”

Norris (10) records that Lieutenant Pussbach made this offer to the Officers and crew of the Stonegate which they accepted. Reducing the number of persons on the City of Flint may have been a relief to the German prize crew and certainly was an offer not to be refused by the Stonegate crew. Therefore they were taken ashore by the Norwegian authorities.

My mother had a comment that subsequently the third officer joined another ship after repatriation, was caught again by the Germans and shot. Both grandpa and my father joined the Royal Naval reserve and saw out the war as shore based naval officers respectively.

The furore surrounding the City of Flint and her American crew under a German prize crew continued after they left Tromsø being a major political issue for both Norway and America. Finally the Norwegian authorities boarded the vessel in Haugesund and returned the vessel to its crew and interned the German prize crew.

Repatriation


[10]  On release in Tromsø the crew of the Stonegate were put up in a hotel until the next day when they left in the coastal ferry “Midnattsol” for Bergen.

En route they arrived in Trondheim on Tuesday 24th. October and remained on board. A reporter tried to interview the crew but was politely told by the Captain that there would be no further interviews. This was after discussion with the British consul in Trondheim and no doubt to restrict the spreading of war sensitive information.

They continued to Bergen where they were placed in a hotel awaiting a ship to the UK.

Norris (10) states that the Washington Post reported on the 30th. October that the Norwegian steamer “Mira”dropped them off “at an unidentified port on the north east coast of England that day”.

The Mira was a ferry belonging to the Bergen Steamship company operating a ferry service between Bergen and the Tyne Commission Quay in North Shields on the River Tyne close to Newcastle.


This picture (21) shows the crew disembarking from the ferry on the River Tyne. The man at the back on the left is my father.

So by the end of the month of October 1939 my father and grandfather returned to their homes in Whitby and Robin Hoods Bay respectively after two and a half weeks in captivity!






There is a twist in the tail of this story. On their return home to Robinhoods bay, Dad tried to enlist again and go to sea in contravention of his signing the Hague Convention not to do so. His discharge book  shows he signed on the S.S. Widestone of Turnbull Scotts in South Shields on the 13th. December 1939, some six weeks after returning from Norway. However, he was discharged from that ship in South Shields on the 12th. January 1940 with the comment "R.A","running agreement" that enabled him to return if he desired it.






However, this did not happen as he was drafted into the Royal Naval Reserve to HMS Beaver a shore establishment on the river Humber at Grimsby on the 22nd. February 1940 and married my mother on the 23rd. March 1940 in Cleethorpes with grandfather in attendance. In December 1940, yours truly appeared and another generation started.

Acknowledgements

This article would not have been possible without the assistance of two family members:


  •      My mother who gave me the original documents concerning the Stonegate incident and inscribed the bound copy of the London Illustrated News covering the incident.
  •        My brother, Peter Douglas, who is the family archivist and has done much research on our two families.
  • Also Beate Kjørslevik, photographer at the Norwegian Maritime Museum in Oslo, Norway. She took the battered copy of the London Illustrated News and scanned the pages relating to the Stonegate incident.

 

Appendix

The London Illustrated News was a major source of information in this article. Their special artist Mr. G.H. Davis worked with my grandfather to create the drawings that were published in the issue of November 18th. 1939.



 










Bibliography

x

1.

The Illustrated London News. 1939 November 11: p. 69-698,706-709.

2.

Postcard of Pocket Battleship "Deutschland". 1939. Original signed photo given to Catain Randal by Admiral Wenneker.

3.

Mannen med brillene er Captein Randall. 1939 October 30..

4.

Arbeidersblad O. 1939 Oct 25..

5.

Google Maps, Map data @2017 Google NEG . [Online].

6.

Roskill SW. Chapter V! The cruises of the Admiral Graf Spee and Deutschland 1939. In Roskill SW. The war at Sea 1939-1945. p. Map 11.

7.

Tidene A. 1939 Oct 25..

8.

Hague A. http://www.convoyweb.org.uk/hague/index.html. [Online].; 2017.

9.

Google Maps, Map data @2017 Google NEG,. [Online].

10.

Norris AJ. A maelstrom of International Law and intrigue: the remarkable voyage of the S.S. City of Flint. Rutgers University. 2013 July 8.

11.

Anon. Naval History and Heritage Command. [Online].; 2016. Available from: https://www.history.navy.mil/research/library/.

12.

Johnmeyer H. The sinking of the Athenia. Something about everything military. In.

13.

Gainard J. Yankee Skipper: The life story of Joseph Gainard, Captain of the City of Flint: Kessinger Publishing, LLC; 2007.

14.

Chan CP. http://ww2db.com/. [Online]. Available from: http://ww2db.com/person_bio.php?person_id=87.

15.

Emmerich M. Uckermark (Altmark in German). [Online].; 2011. Available from: http://www.german-navy.de/kriegsmarine/ships/auxships/uckermark/operations.html.

16.

Michael W. Pocock. Maritime Quest. [Online].; 2017. Available from:  http://www.maritimequest.com/

17.

Tromsø Blad. "City of Flint". 1939 October 31..

18.

Danish Meteorological Institute (DMI). Arctic Sea Ice Charts from Danish Meteorological Institute, 1893 - 1956. [Online]. Available from: https://nsidc.org.

19.

The Hague Convetion (XIII). Full text of "The Hague convention (XIII) of 1907 concerning the rights and duties of neutral powers in naval war". [Online]. Available from: https://archive.org/stream/hagueconventionx00inte/hagueconventionx00inte_djvu.txt.

20.

International Committee of the Red Cross. Treaties, States Parties and Commentaries. [Online]. Available from: Https://ihl-databases.ircrc.org.

21.

Crew of raider fear us. Daily Mirror. 1939 October 31.

x

 



[1] Lifeboat nameplate from the Stonegate

[2] Ships generally do not achieve their stated design speed on a voyage. This is especially true of steam reciprocating engines. Therefore 8 knots has been used to calculate distance instead of 10 knots.

 

[3] All routes and positions calculated are approximate based on standard speeds and normal navigation practice

[4] HX1 was the first convoy from Halifax Nova Scotia to Liverpool.

[5] The photo was taken after repatriation to the UK when Grandpa was in the Royal Naval Reserve hence the “wavy” stripes.

[6] Copy of original apprentice indentures to F.G.W. Randall

[7] Copy of a copy of grandpa’s masters certificate dated November 1939 after repatriation to UK. Presumably the original was lost with the ship.

[8] Captain Joseph Gainard. Photo credit: Yankee Skipper: The life story of Joseph Gainard.

[9] The sinking of the Stonegate as depicted in a drawing in the London Illustrated News. The signature is that of the artist.

[10] Picture of Grandpa on the Midnattsol in Trondheim (Newspaper Tromsø 30th. October 1939)

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