Peter McArthur’s article on ship hydrodynamics reminded me of the Royston Grange tragedy on the River Plate in 1972 which was most likely caused by a combination of bank rejection, interaction and a poorly maintained channel. Surprisingly little factual information is available regarding this collision so the following  account has been compiled from several sources.  The photos are from the web with no photographer accredited. JCB

On the 11th May 1972, the Houlder Line’s 7,113 ton Royston Grange, was outward bound in the River Plate from Buenos Aires to London with a cargo of chilled and frozen beef and butter.  On board were 61 crew, 12 passengers (including six women and a 5-year old child) and the Argentinian pilot. At 0540, as she traversed the Punta Indio Channel in dense fog, she collided with the Liberian-registered tanker Tien Chee, carrying 20,000 tons of crude oil. The Tien Chee immediately burst into flames and a series of explosions rapidly carried the flames to the Royston Grange where most of the crew and passengers were asleep. Although the Royston Grange did not sink, all 74 on board were killed. This is surprising since the Royston Grange had split accommodation with the Deck Officers & passengers separated from the engineers and crew accommodation by a cargo hatch. The reason for this grim statistic seems to be that following what would appear to have been an initial fireball of vapour, the cargo of butter and the hold insulation ignited resulting in an inferno which would have been impossible to survive. The Tien Chee also caught fire and eight of her forty Chinese crew died but the remainder, along with her Argentinian pilot, managed to abandon ship and were picked up by cutters of the Argentine Naval Prefecture.

The report of the Liberian enquiry into the disaster concluded that the master and pilot of the Tien Chee, in an attempt to get enough water for her deep draught, had probably been navigating too far to the south of the channel. The report concluded that the officers of the Royston Grange were probably not to blame, although there may have been some human error in attempting to avoid the collision. Whilst finding that the Master and pilot of the Tien Chee probably should’nt have entered the channel in the tidal conditions prevailing at the time, the report criticised the lack of maintenance of the channel.

Subsequent analysis suggests that the Royston Grange had probably suffered bank rejection causing her to shear towards the Tien Chee. With the Tien Chee navigating with minimum UKC she was probably navigating in navigable mud and experiencing difficulty in steering so as the two vessels approached each other the interaction forces would have been enhanced. The diagram below taken from Ship Stability for Masters & Mates reconstructs the collision.

As ships get ever bigger and operational windows are reduced, safety parameters are inevitably eroded and the Royston Grange tragedy serves as a reminder as to how important an understanding of     hydrodymics are to safe ship handling.

MEMORIALS

Those killed are all buried in The British Cemetery in Montevideo (following picture) but the above stained  glass  window was commissioned as a memorial in the All Hallows-by-the-Tower church in London.

The list of the deceased:

The Tien Chee was scrapped at Buenos Aires in 1976 and the Royston Grange was eventually scrapped in Spain in 1979.                JCB

You will recall that last year I featured the rescue and restoration of the rotting hulk of the old Trinity House cruising cutter “Bembridge” by the Polish shipping logistics group, Magemar. This project was very much driven by one of the Magemar managers, Rafal Zahorski, who has not only overseen the restoration but has also been scouring the world for authentic fixtures and fittings to restore the 70 year old vessel to her former glory. But that is not all, because such is Rafal’s enthusiasm for this vessel and all that it stood for, he has also been collecting artefacts in order to create a museum to be open at weekends and holidays when the office is shut. The latest news is that the restoration is nearing completion and the museum is now open, complete with authentic engine sounds recorded from a tug! If you have any Trinity House documentation or artefacts that you no longer have a use for please contact Rafal: rafal.zahorski@magemar.com.pl

For the complete restoration story visit: www.shipsnostalgia.com and type “Bembridge” in the “search” box. You will ned to register to view the photographs but registration is free.

Sometime prior to the establishment of the UKPA, in fact around 140 AD, a member of the Roman army of occupation army died near York. He was recorded as being an Ouse/Humber/Trent pilot. His headstone is in the York Museum and has the following inscription as follows:

Matribus Afris Italis Gallis Marcus Minucius Audens miles legionis VI Victricfs gubernator VI uofum solfut laetuslibens merffo. Translated:

To the African, Italian and Gallic Mother Goddesses Marcus Minucius Audens, soldier of the Sixth Legions Vitrix and a pilot of the Sixth Legion, Willingly, gladly and deservedly fulfilled his vow

Submitted by Harry Hignett

(Retired: Manchester)

The entrance to the River Tyne can be hazardous in bad weather for vessels under sail and was very much more so before the completion of the North and South piers.This fact posed many problems for Tyne Pilots operating a ‘Boarding Service’. Traditionally their craft of choice for this operation was the ‘coble’. The flat sterner coble was of unique design capable of being launched and recovered in adverse weather from the gradually shelving beaches found between Berwick and the Humber. The coble was developed for use in the coastal fishing industry and as such was originally in effect a cargo vessel. In addition to its capabilities aforementioned it was unrivalled in its ability to point very high into the wind. It is inherent that with increased specialisation in any area that there will be commensurate drawbacks in others. The coble could, in in-experienced hands, be a dangerous proposition. For pilotage purposes it was redeveloped more as a fast yacht. Pilots operating solely in the vicinity of their harbour often used a variation of the flat stem coble called a ‘mule’ but this variant could not be safely beached in bad weather.

Tyne Pilots generally ‘sought’ for ships between Berwick and Flamborough and for that reason did in the main hold to their flat sterner coble. These craft could not only live at sea in the most adverse weather but also were the craft which gave the best chance of beaching safely in an emergency. The problem for Tyne Pilots was that of getting out of the Tyne entrance under sail during periods of heavy weather from Easterly quadrants and in particular during the duration of the ebb stream. For many years they petitioned the Pilotage Authority of the day, Trinity House Newcastle, to provide a steam vessel to allow them to get to sea on such occasions. These petitions went unheeded.

Tyne Pilots eventually decided to provide a steam vessel for themselves to maintain a boarding and landing service in bad weather. To do this they entered on a program of both chartering and of owning steam vessels to act as Cruising Pilot Vessels. I have been unable to determine all of those vessels chartered from time to time but the ‘Great Britain’ and the ‘President’ were amongst them The first wholly owned vessel was ‘Pilot’ which operated very successfully, was the source of a deal of salvage money for the pilots and during the course of her duties also saved the lives of a number of pilots and fishermen. ‘Pilot’ was also used for coastal trips and probably was hired by Trinity House Newcastle from time to time for ‘Inspections ofLights and Beacons’ along the stretch of coast for which they had responsibility. ‘Pilot’ was built at the South Shields yard ofAndrew Woodhouse for the Tyne Pilots. Her particulars were as follows:Length 73Ft. B 165Ft. D 9Ft. Steam propulsion: 30 HP. Launched 18th August 1852. The accompanying illustration of ‘Pilot’ cruising off the Tyne Entrance is that of a painting by John Scott who was a famous marine and landscape painter. His birthplace was South Shields and spent his early life at sea before becoming a pupil of John Wilson Carmichael. Scott, unlike Carmichael remained on Tyneside for his entire life.

The second vessel to be purchased by the pilots to operate in this capacity was the ‘Robert Ingham’.

‘Authority’ for the provision of pilotage services in Tyne District was eventually taken out of the hands of Trinity House in 1865 and was vested in the Tyne Pilotage Commission. However it was not until 1907 that the Pilotage Authority at last caused to have built a steam vessel to act as a cruising pilot vesseL This vessel was named ‘Protector’ and was featured in the July 2009 issue of this magazine.

J.H.Bum.

THPV Bembridge on station.                    Photo: A Adams’ collection

Having been unable to locate a suitable riverside property for the company, Magemar Manager and shipping enthusiast Rafal Zahorski discovered the old Bembridge rapidly rotting away on the river Medway after plans to convert her into a floating restaurant had been abandoned.

Bembridge rotting on the River Medway          Photo: Magemar

Although engineless and in a very poor state internally, the hull was still basically sound and Magemar purchased her in February 2009 and she was towed across the North Sea to Poland by the Polish tug Argus. Despite encountering a gale on the North Sea passage the Bembridge arrived safely in Swinoujscie after a five day passage but was then nearly lost whilst being towed the short distance up river from Swinoujscie to Szczecin where an ice flow holed the bow.

Bembridge arriving in Poland                      Photo: Magemar

Fortunately salvage pumps were able to cope with the ingress of water and for the last year she has been undergoing a full restoration / conversion. A full survey revealed serious corrosion in many places and some of the hull plating and most of the deck have been replaced but having been sand blasted, primed and coated, the Bembridge is now back in the water being fitted out. With the exception of the office which is to be located in the old engine room Rafal has been scouring the world for authentic fittings to ensure that the rest of the vessel will look as original as possible. This has not been an easy task because the interior has been totally altered since her Trinity House days and despite searching the archives of both Trinity House and Smith’s Yard, where she was built, Rafal has been unable to locate any original plans for the vessel.  With the aid of photographs and the assistance of retired pilots Andy Adams and Hugh Fergusson the external appearance is now correct and by retaining the port of Registry as London she will still fly the Red Ensign and the hull will be panted the original black with a white stripe and will have the original PILOTS and No1 painted on the sides. As a result of his painstaking research and dedication Rafal is gradually accumulating fittings for the wheelhouse and deck and late last year located and purchased what are probably the last two remaining boarding boats in existence.  Rafal’s search is not just limited to items and records relating to the Bembridge but because he has been absorbed by the history he is planning to house a small museum on board devoted to Trinity House pilotage so is also seeking records and memorabilia of Trinity House in general.Can any of you help? Do you have any old photographs log books or even just stories? You can contact Rafal directly or join the blog exchanges on the Ships Nostalgia website via the links below.

History of the THPV Bembridge

Bembridge was designed by Sir William Reed in early 1938 for Trinity House as their first purpose built twin screw diesel engined pilot cutter and as such, a lot of care had been put into the design. She was built by Smith’s Dock Company Co. Ltd. in Middlesborough and launched on 14th July 1938. She was 142 ft (43m) LOA and was commissioned at Cowes on 6th october 1938.for use as a cruising pilot cutter for Isle of Wight/Southampton District operating at the Nab and the Needles stations where she served throughout the war. In 1941 she received a direct hit from a bomb but fortunately it failed to explode and passed harmlessly through the bow.

In 1947 Bembridge was transferred to the London district where she worked as the cruising cutter, alternating service between the Dungeness and Sunk boarding grounds.

In 1968  a launch service operating out of a new, purpose built, pilot station at Folkestone replaced the cruising cutter and she returned to the Solent operating as a Mother ship and communications vessel until finally being withdrawn from Trinity House service in 1970.

In 1971 she was purchased by Arundel Priory for use as a training ship preparing under-privileged children for a seagoing career. That project was short lived and in 1972 she was bought by Cosag Marine Services and fitted out as a survey ship for North Sea oil exploration. Much of her accommodation was removed for this work which she continued to undertake successfully until 1976 when she was sold to the Essex Yacht Club for use as their clubhouse at Leigh on Sea. The conversion to a clubhouse saw the removal of the engines, generators, funnel and deck machinery and other alterations resulted in very little of the interior remaining recognisable.

In 2004 the Essex Yacht Club purchased the GRP minehunter HMS Wilton and Bembridge was towed to the Medway where plans to convert her to a floating restaurant failed to materialise.

Becoming aware of her existence in 2006, Magemar purchased her in February 2009.

At the time of writing this the hull and decks have been restored and fitting out of the interior is underway. Magemar hope to have the restoration complete by early summer this year. I’m sure that you will join me in thanking Rafal and Magemar for undertaking this important restoration.

During his research Rafal has accumulated a wealth of information, not just about Bembridge but also Trinity House in general and the Smith’s Yard and he has placed all the information and links on the Magemar website at the following link:

http://www.bembridge.pl/

In the absence of any museum in the UK housing Trinity House memorabilia, Rafal is keen for the Bembridge to fill this gap in our maritime heritage. If you are interested in helping him to realise this vision please contact him directly via the above website.

Ready for fitting out: December 2009          Photo: Rafal Zahorski

or write to :

Rafal Zahorski

C/O Magemar Polska Sp. z o.o.

70-603 Szczecin
ul. Bytomska 7;

Tel: +48 91 430 88 91
Fax: +48 91 430 88 9

There is also a vast amount of additional information on the Ship Nostalgia blog at the following link:

http://www.shipsnostalgia.com/showthread.php?t=24193&page=8

UPDATE MAY 2010

The painting is now complete and Bembridge has been towed to her final berth where every ship visiting Szczecin will be able to admire her in her origianl state:

You will note that the pilot flag is flying from a bamboo pole. This was the practice when in service as retired London district Trinity House pilot Hugh Ferguson explains:

The reason for the bamboo stick was to fly the flag above the truck (top-most part of a mast) of the mast so that the flag would fly above and clear of the mast. To do this, have the stick twice as long as the depth of the flag. Attach it to the halyard with a half-hitch of the halyard in the middle of the stick under the flag-then another half-hitch of the halyard at the lower end of the stick.

With this arrangement, when the flag is hoisted as high as it will go it will be free to fly above the top-most part of the mast and not become foul of the mast as the cutter manoeuvres.

JCB

The Pilotage History

In order to better understand the role of the Bristol Channel skiff it is useful to understand the pilotage area that they covered since the pilots also served vessels trading to ports in S Wales as well as Bristol. The picture however is not as clear cut as the name suggests because due to the competition between pilots in those days there are records in the Welsh ports of their own pilots and in a further complication, the Bristol Channel pilots were not based in Bristol at all but at the small village of Pill at the mouth of the river Avon.

The records of pilotage out of Pill go back to 1497 when barge master James Ray was appointed by the Mayor and Corporation of Bristol to pilot John Cabot’s Mathew on its historic voyage to the New World. Pill subsequently became the centre for Bristol Channel pilots but the relationship between Pill and Bristol was not a happy one and this strained relationship could probably fill a book of its own so suffice to note for period covered by this article that the pilots operated under the Bristol Channel Pilotage Act of 1807 from which the following extract defines the pilotage area as;

from a certain Place about Four Miles Eastward of King Road and so down the River Severn and Bristol Channel to the two small islands called the Stipe Holmes and the Flat Holmes … (and their authority shall) be extended to the Appointment of Pilots for the conducting of Ships and Vessels into and out of and upon the whole of the Bristol Channel, and the several Ports, Harbours and Creeks belonging to and issuing from the same … (that is) all Vessels passing up and down and upon the Bristol Channel to and from the Eastward of Lundy Island, and in or upon the several creeks of the said Channels.

The fact that theirs was a tough life can appreciated by the photo of Pill pilots and “Westernmen” taken around 1880!

Pill Pilots & “Westernmen c 1880

The Sailing Skiffs

There are no historical records of skiffs and their construction prior to the early 19th century but like many craft the evolution would have been gradual over the centuries to met the three main requirements of speed, seaworthiness and ease of handling. The very nature of pilotage in those days where pilots were in direct competition with each other would have meant that any design element which gave a new boat the edge over existing boats would have been incorporated by others and there is no doubt that this constant drive to gain advantage over others is what caused these remarkable vessels to not only become the best sailing craft of their day but also for the design to be still one that is world renowned as one of the best blue water sailing craft in the 21st Century.

The earliest reliable record is from the 1795 Register of Ships which was instigated by the Corporation of Bristol that year and lists 12 Skiffs and provides their tonnage which ranged between 14 and 24 tons but no other details. Other records from the early 19th Century provide more details of some skiffs still surviving from the 1780’s & 90’s and the lengths of the craft ranged between 33 ft (10m) and 40 ft (12.2m). The sail plans weren’t recorded but the skiff James and Samuel which is listed in the 1795 register was sold in 1812 and the equipment included 1 mainsail, 2 foresails, 4 jibs, 1 squaresail, 1 gaff topsail and 1 topmast steering sail.

The earliest photograph of a skiff is that of the Trial which belonged to pilot T Vowles (1847 -78). and shows the squaresail yard which was seemingly a common feature on the early skiffs..

The Trial : An early skiff

It may be thought that detailed plans would exist for the cutters, especially those built in the late 19th and early 20th century, but such plans are virtually non existent because the construction lines were either taken from existing hulls or from half hull models. Also there was no “standard” model with lengths generally varying between 40ft ( 2.2m) and 50 ft (15.2m). Despite the variation in length the method of construction and timber used was fairly standard and the construction was usually of English oak, English elm and pitch pine with interior fittings of teak. Despite the lack of detailed drawings there is the following specification for the Kindly Light, a cutter built for Barry pilot Lewis Alexander dated1911:

General Dimensions: 52ft overall, 141/2 ft. beam, about 81/2 ft. draught. Length of keel, 38ft. Vessel to be built with round forefoot and elliptic stem. Cabin to be fitted with 2 berths and usual lockers. Forecastle fitted with 2 berths, lockers and racks for sails. Materials to be the best of their respective description and to be fitted in a workmanlike manner.

Keel: To be of English elm. (Generally the elm keels were in one length and about 18 inches deep and 6 inches wide)

Stem & Stem Posts: Of English oak.

Floors, frames, stanchions and beams: Of oak.

Keelson: Of pitch pine.

Planking: 1 oak plank round top, pitch pine to bilge, stout elm bilge 21/2 inch, remainder of plank of elm or pitch pine l1/2inch.

Rails: To be of elm or oak with greenheart capping.

Decks: Best yellow pine.

Fastenings: To be galvanized iron.

Masts: To be cutter-rigged with pole size as required.

Bowsprit, boom, gaff, topsail yard, two oars, boat hook. Booming out spar. Ironwork on Keel: Ballast iron.

Rigging: Three shrouds each side of 2in wire, forestay 31/2 inch wire running tackle.

Sails: One mainsail, one foresail, two topsails, three jibs, one balloon foresail, one spinnaker.

Painting: Vessel to be scraped, cemented and concreted up to bilge, to have two coats oil paint, two coats paint on bottom and top sides. Cabin to be varnished, forecastle to be grained.

Brasses for rudder head and collar for trunk and head of stem post.

Sundries and Utensils: Four plates, four mugs, cooking stove, knives, forks and spoons, saucepans etc. Foghorn, bulb flashlight, Morse lamp, combination lamp, water tank 60 gallons, table in forecastle. A

As an interesting note, I understand that Kindly Light still exists and is currently being fully restored in time for her centenary.

The performance of any sailing vessel is as dependent upon the cut and set of her sails but especially for pilots since their livelihood depended upon getting out to the boarding ground ahead of the competition.

The mainsail was of cotton in summer and flax in winter and they were fitted with four sets of reef points and were loose footed.  An indication of the extreme conditions that these craft had to work in, when set to the fourth set, the gaff jaws were almost down to the boom gooseneck. Later, some cutters were fitted with roller-reefing and so were laced to a wooden jackstay or ‘combe’ along the boom. The disadvantage of this reefing was that as the sail was rolled the leech exerted a load on the boom between the gooseneck and mainsheet and the stronger the wind the greater the stress. However, the risk of a broken boom was more than offset by the ease of handling.

The number of headsails carried depended largely on the affluence of the owner, but in all boats it was usual to have a working foresail, which had two sets of reef-points, a balloon foresail and three jibs, namely the large jib or ‘spinnaker’, working or ‘slave’ jib and storm or ‘spitfire’ jib. One or more topsails were also carried

Pilots didn’t normally tan or ‘cutch’ their sails as it was essential that their number or port initial should stand out clearly, but one Welsh pilot apparently carried a tanned jackyard topsail for reasons of strategy. When cruising amongst the numerous tan-sailed fishing craft, he would set this tanned topsail to disguise himself as one of them, and work out to the westward of a rival cutter, resetting his normal sail when the advantage had been gained. Some pilots made their own sails using skills gained on deep-water sailing ships during their required ‘sea-time’ .

When steamships made their appearance the pilots rapidly exploited the possibility of using the ship to tow the skiff back to port in order for it to be available immediately for the next job! This resulted in the unique structural fitting of heavy towing bits being added to the foredeck of the craft.  Somewhat understandably, the crews apparently hated being towed because with the ship steaming at full speed it was exhausting to keep the skiff under control with the foredeck awash!! Pilot Frank Trott actually fitted a proper tug’s towing hook to the fore side of his cutter Marguerite.  Marguerite is also still sailing today.

The cutter Cymro under tow!  photo N Alexander

The Skiffs at Work

The other important aspect of the skiffs was that handling should be manageable by a cox’n and deck hand so the deck fittings, rigging and layout were designed with the same eye for efficiency as the hull and sail plan.

The mainmast was a stout spar wire shrouds but no backstays, and was usually surmounted by a short fidded topmast which was supported by a topmast forestay and a pair of wire shrouds, but often no spreaders and, again, no topmast backstays. The spars were of pine and very heavy in order to eliminate as much supporting rigging as possible, as in the case of the bowsprit which, although sometimes fitted with an adjustable bobstay wasn’t fitted with shrouds in order to facilitate the frequent adjustments necessary to change jibs or reef jib. The bowsprit was normally shipped through a hole in the bulwark to starboard of the stem post.

Just abaft of the aforementioned bitts was the fore-hatch which gave access to the foc’s'le and forepeak and aft of that a little forward of amidships was the mast. Spare spars and sweeps were stowed fore-and-aft in two vertically mounted iron hoops. Aft of the mast a companion hatch was situated at the fore end of the self draining cockpit.  There was usually just one seat athwart-ships at the after end of the cockpit and as additional useful feature, the cutter Pet had a lavatory pan built into one comer of the cockpit seat!

Behind the cockpit coaming was the mainsheet horse and rudder post. The lower mainsheet block was not on a running traveller but was located at the centre of the horse by two very heavy flanking coil springs, or buffers. These buffers were highly necessary as the cutters were frequently gybed all standing as a standard manoeuvre when working and there was seldom time -or hands -to spare for the refinement of overhauling the sheet to ease the load. Generally speaking, the horse was about 2ft to 2ft 6in in length and was mounted between two very strong iron uprights, just high enough to allow clearance for the tiller arm.

The pilot’s boarding punt was kept on the port side, abaft the main rigging, stowed in chocks right way up. This was usually a clinker-built boat about 13ft length  often painted white so as to be easily identified at night.

Skiffs generally had fairly high bulwarks, of about 1ft 6in to 2ft, with a removable section through which the punt was launched to be rowed to and from the ship, Many punts had a standing wire strop fastened between the inside of the stem and transom at the point of balance, and to get the punt back on board the cutter a burton from the masthead was made fast to the eye in the strop, thus making it comparatively easy to hoist it inboard.

There were a few deadlights flush mounted into the deck to provide daylight below and there were rarely any ventilators ( they got enough fresh air!) fitted so the decks were clear  of obstructions for working.

On station the cutters were required to display a pilot flag which in 1849 became the white over red flag still in use today. At night an all round white light was displayed supplemented by a kerosene flare every 15 minutes with each port having a sequence code for displaying the flare. For example the flare code for Bristol was two shorts and a long. After 1858 the cutters were required to display sidelights at night when underway but contemporary accounts indicate that this was frequently ignored, especially in calms when it was not unusual for cutters to extinguish all their lights and get the sweeps out and row the cutter to gain a Westerly advantage over other cutters. Once a ship was encountered that required the services of the pilot, the ship would heave to while the cutter would work into the lee of the ship and “out punt” to transfer the pilot across for boarding. One man and the pilot would do the rowing whilst the man remaining on board would sail clear single handed and once the pilot had shipped return close under the lee of the ship to  recover the punt and other man. The cutter would then either sail or be towed back to the home port ready for the next run out. Occasionally more than one pilot would be on board so the cutter would remain out on station looking for other work. I refer to both the cutter hands as “men” but it was normally the case that these cutter hands were related to the pilots and were pilot apprentices themselves so there was no on board distinction of cox’n and deck hand

“Out Punt”    Painting by Peter Stuckey

There are some today who question whether the skiffs were actually sailed by two men but  this was definitely the case. Peter Stuckey wrote the book when some of the old sailing pilots were still alive and he undertook interviews which has left us a valuable records of those days. These first hand accounts reveal not just a life of hardship and danger but almost unbelievable accounts of seamanship skills.

The following are extracts from the story of Captain George Buck who served his apprenticeship skiffs in the early 1900’s.

Once we were hove to about 5 miles SW of the Wolf Rock, the wind had died away to a flat calm, the sea like a mirror, very dark without a cloud in the sky and the stars shining in the water the same as in the sky, all the lighthouses showing their lights all around the horizon and the Lizard light flashing in the sky. I was on 12 to 4 watch when a ship’s masthead light came in sight. I took a bearing and saw she would pass a long way to the north of us and, having no wind, the only thing I could do was show the Bristol signal on the flashlight, though as the flashlight was usually used by fishing boats in this area ships generally gave it a wide berth. We were expecting one of Pyman’s ships along, called the Cober, she being five days out from Gibraltar. I decided to call one of the pilots (we had two on board) and when he came on deck I suggested calling the other pilot, launching the punt and pulling as far as possible to get as close as we could, then to show the flashlight and hail her with the megaphone. We pulled until she was abreast of us, still more than a mile away, showed the flashlight and started to hail her, but eventually had to give up and had started to pull back to the skiff when we saw her port light come in sight and she came towards us, and sure enough it was the Cober bound for Bristol. I put the pilot on board and he towed me back to the skiff. The next night we still a flat calm. In the 12 to 4 watch I heard my mate come below and tell the other pilot a ship was in sight a long way to the north. I turned out and suggested another pull, the pilot agreed and this time he took an oar and we made the punt fly through the water, stopping now and again to show the flashlight. We were just deciding to give up when she went hard-a-starboard and steamed towards us. She was bound for Bristol and of course I expected to be towed back to the skiff, but when the pilot suggested this to the captain he told him had lost a blade and a half of his propeller and wanted to make sure of his tide. The pilot looked over the bridge and told me but I did not care, being happy to think we had another ship, and started to row back. After pulling for some time I stopped to see if I could pick up the skiff’s light but with so many stars reflected in the water I could not find it but I could see the Wolf light and knew if I pulled in that direction I was bound to find her. It seemed I had been rowing for hours alone in the world and I started singing to keep myself company. Then I stopped rowing, looked around and saw a light and was close to the skiff. My mate was pleased to see me back and I often wonder how many miles I rowed that night.

….It was very dark as we were approaching Barry entrance when suddenly a blue light (a signal for a pilot), was shown from a large ship at anchor in the roads. We sailed off to her and she was the Everton Grange (twin-screw) bound for Avonmouth. We hailed her, told them to put a ladder over and we would put a pilot on board.

The weather had by now got worse with a strong west wind and confused sea, with the tide ebbing west. The ship was lying across the tide, with the tide running on her lee side at about three knots. This meant we had to keep well to leeward, drop the punt with the pilot and myself, and the man in the skiff would have to get back into the wind, then come back and pick me up. If he lost the wind under her lee the tide would set the skiff down on the ship and do some damage. Everything went along fine. I put the pilot on the ladder and the skiff was coming back to pick me up with sufficient way to take her in to the wind again. I was about to jump aboard with the painter when the pilot hailed us to come back and take the Liverpool pilot in as he wished to catch the first train back to Liverpool in the morning. I rowed back to the ladder and then saw that the skiff had lost the wind and was setting down on the ship and we could do nothing to stop her going alongside. We managed to get a couple of fenders over and she brought up on the ship’s starboard quarter close to the propeller, the tide pinning her there. I made the punt fast to the skiff and asked them to pass us down a rope to heave us clear of the ship’s quarter as every time she rolled she smashed our bulwarks and the propeller was very close. But before we got the rope the propeller started to revolve and we yelled for them to stop it. The engines were stopped right away, they passed us down a rope and as they hove us amidships the pilot looked over the ship’s side and asked what all the shouting was about. I told him we had been close to the propeller and felt sure it had touched our bottom. The pilot, using the ship’s engines, then brought her head to tide and we were able to sail away from her.

I pulled up the floorboards in the steerage to make sure we were not making water as the blades of the propeller had been whizzing round abreast our cockpit. When we found everything was all right we asked if the Liverpool pilot still wanted us to land him. The reply being ‘Yes’, I rowed back to the ladder and took him off. We got alongside the skiff and having hauled the punt on board, set more sail and as we shaped course for Avonmouth I made a pot of tea.The next day the pilot came on board to survey the damage. It was not serious, about six feet of bulwark damaged. We pulled up the floorboards over the pump-well and found she had not made any water. The pilot then asked me why I had been shouting and I told him if he had been on board the skiff with that propeller churning round alongside he also would have done some shouting and I was still of the opinion that the propeller had touched our bottom. About three weeks later we put her on Ilfracombe Strand to scrub and tar her bottom and we found the bottom scored to to a depth of about 1/2 inch over a 3 foot length! It was the only time I was really frightened.

..We were cruising about 30 miles west of Lundy Island in a strong westerly wind and rough sea, expecting the Dominion liner, Manxman. We knew there were no skiffs to the westward of us and if she came along she would be ours. We had three rolls in the mainsail, reefed foresail and storm jib. About midday the pilot decided to run towards the island as the wind was increasing, as sometimes, when blowing hard, the wind would decrease to leeward, but when we got abreast the north end of Lundy the wind increased, so, putting another roll in the mainsail, we decided to run farther up Channel. About 8 pm we rolled the mainsail down with the jaws of the gaff on the mainboom, double reefed the foresail and hove-to, being now between the Nash and Foreland Point.

We never cared to give up the chance of a ship and we were certain if the Manxman came along she would be ours and, being a large ship and loaded, we should manage to board her. At 10 pm the pilot came on deck and the wind seemed to be increasing, with heavy squalls and confused sea, so he told me to put the helm up and run for Barry Roads. This skiff was the old Glance and she would run in any sea and never take any water over the stern. Just before midnight the pilot came on deck again and told me to make a pot of tea and call my mate. This I did and was on my way to the cockpit with a cup for the pilot when I heard a crash and when I got to the cockpit I found that the mainboom had snapped like a carrot. The mainsheet and the end of the boom were towing in the water and the mainsail was in ribbons. We had a difficult job getting the broken piece of boom on board and were afraid it might hit the side and break a plank} but we finally got everything secured and again running before the wind. I thought we should go to Barry but the pilot said we would go to Pill as we would require a new mainsail and mainboom.

Lowering the foresail and jib, we put a spare foresail fore side of the mast, hoisted it up and were away like a scalded cat. When we reached the river we hoisted the reaching foresail aft side of the mast for a mainsail, set the foresail and arrived at Pill just before high water. While we were mooring, the havenmaster’s office hailed the boatman’s shelter to say that the Manxman was in King Road and had asked for a pilot. We had not only lost a mainsail and mainboom but also a good paying ship. That was just the luck of the draw in the days of competitive piloting

This is just a small selection of accounts from George Buck and others in the book but provides a valuable insight into the life of pilots who earned their livelihood from the skiffs. Although several pilots and boatmen lost their lives in this service their losses were remarkably low considering the conditions they suffered and were probably no more than those of other occupations in those times. The testimony as to the seaworthiness of of the skiffs and the relationship between the men and their craft is summed up by George Buck as follows:

….when boarding ships at night during dirty weather, we were always glad when we had the punt back on board. In the daytime we took little notice of the weather and it had to be very bad when we could not board and it was not very often we had to run for shelter. The skiffs were fine craft and in bad weather would heave-to with the fore sheet to windward and the helm lashed a little down and they would work to windward off a lee shore.

Off Duty

The pilots relationship with their skiffs contnued even when they were off duty and racing “Reviews” were held at each port and were enthusiastically supported by the local community. Occasionally the skiffs raced against professional sailing yachts and frequently beat them especially in windy conditions. When on service, speeds of 10 knots were frequently achieved and this speed was often exceeded during racing when the additional sails were set.

Off duty racing.

Ilfracombe was the popular holiday resort for the Bristol Channel and the flat firm sands provided a good place for repairs and sprucing up of the skiffs. The pilots andf crew’s families would be lodged ashore in boarding houses and carnivals and other entertainments were enjoyed by all.

The 21st Century

The remarkable sea keeping qualities of the Bristol Channel skiffs and cutters has ensured their survival, with many original craft having been fully restored and maintained. Although during the latter half of the 20th Century the advent of fibre glass cruising and racing yachts somewhat eclipsed these wonderful craft, in recent years there has been a revival of interest and as well as restorations, lines are being taken from original hulls for new builds. In particular they are increasingly popular for the charter market. In ocean races they continue to win trophies when competing against modern yachts and since 2006 an annual pilot cutter “Review” has been held at St Mawes in Cornwall which is seeing an increase in turnout, despite the economic downturn. Meanwhile the reputation of the design for serious “blue water” cruising remains unsurpassed. Such a legacy is a fitting tribute to those hard working pilots and men who earned their living from these legendary craft.

JCB. With thanks to Peter Stuckey for permission to use extracts from his book.

Read the story of Alfred William Venn, one of the last sailing pilots here (page 8 )

S.S. William M Clarke: Cutter No4 on inspection day. c. 1937

Photo: Liverpool Pilots’ Archives

John Curry’s article on the retirement of Stuart Wood, Geoff Rafferty and John himself marks both a vintage year at Liverpool and nothing less than the end of an era in pilotage, quite possibly throughout the entire world.

Their retirement is the retirement of the last three pilots trained to the highest possible standards in a system of sea-keeping, station-keeping pilot-cutters without any assistance from shore-based launches.

Having left school aged sixteen in 1960 as John explains, he, Stuart and Geoff then served as cadets for about one year deep-sea before joining in 1961 a training-system which was then at its zenith (as it had been since its introduction in 1896) and which began a long process of decline in the following year, 1962. The key to the system was the maintenance of four pilot-cutters, three of which were permanently at sea, with one in dock on stand-by. The three at sea operated in a rotation comprised of one week keeping station at the Mersey Bar (16 miles out of Liverpool), one week keeping station off Point Lynas, Anglesey (a further 36 miles to the west) and one week on tender-duty, sailing daily from Liverpool Landing Stage to the two sea-stations in order to keep the stations properly supplied with pilots. The week on tender-duty (or on-the-run, as it was known colloquially) was served during the middle-week of the three-week rotation, the first and third weeks being served at the Bar and Point Lynas respectively.

The system originated in 1896 when the first four steam-driven pilot-cutters were introduced, replacing a fleet of twelve schooners. As the schooners had been manned on deck entirely by apprentices, the replaced apprentices became the deck-crew of each newly-commissioned steamer, regulated at ten apprentices per pilot-cutter. The system was maintained for the next sixty-six years, largely unchanged through two World Wars, although a fifth steamer was commissioned temporarily between 1915 and 1923. The original four steamers were themselves replaced over the years. By 1961 (when our heroes joined the system and found it ats peak) the fleet comprised one steamer dating from 1937 (a veteran of the Spithead Review of that year) and three diesel-electric pilot-cutters built in 1950, 1953 and 1958. All the cutters were built to the highest specifications, the last three having state-of-the-art gravity davits for the boat-work which formed the essential element of their existence. The cutters were commanded by licensed pilots as Senior Master and Second Master on permanent appointment. The Senior Apprentice (aged about 23) was Mate or Chief Officer of the cutter.

In 1962 the ss William M Clarke, Number 4 Cutter dating from 1937, was sold to the Humber and was replaced by two shore-based launches for tender-duty to the Bar station. The service of the Lynas station was maintained by overland transport. There was no longer a sea-keeping cutter on tender-duty.The oldest diesel-electric cutter (Sir Thomas Brocklebank of 1950) was withdrawn in 1974 upon the development of the modern shore-based station at Point Lynas and the later two (Edmund Gardner, Number 2 of 1953 and Arnet Robinson, Number 3 of 1958) survived in service until 1982 – when the Edmund Gardner became the prime exhibit at Merseyside Marime Museum.

John Curry, Stuart Wood and Geoff Rafferty quite possibly have honour of being the last three pilots anywhere in the world to have trained in such a system and to have served as licensed pilots in a major port while still in their early twenties. There remain of course several pilots in service today who experienced the training-system in its twenty-year decline after 1962,  but no others who had the benefit of the training-system at its peak. As a practical method of training pilots for a major port, it had no equal.

SALUTE TO THE FOUR-BOAT MEN

The last of the Four-Boat men.

The last of the men on the Run.

The red and white Flag, the pea-whistle and bag,

All cruising in Westering sun.

Who cruised through the Winter as well,

Through fog and through storm and through ice,

Who cursed and who swore bloody-hell,

Who served and who didn’t think twice.

For such was their chosen vocation.

Apprenticed in sea, ships and ropes.

In Pilotage. Keeping the Station,

In youth, aspiration and hopes:

For trade and for commerce and living,

For family matters and life.

Accepting the crude unforgiving,

To satisfy Nature and wife.

Each man bore the yoke: or he lost it.

In Pilotage, that is the way.

Professional practice would cost it,

No less than it costs it today.

Salute the Four-Boat men of Mersey,

Serving Liverpool all through her prime:

Apprenticed, in Flag-embossed jersey,

Then Licensed in service sublime.

In passing the yoke now to others,

Old men salute youngsters and then,

Acknowledging  youngsters as brothers,

Salute all the old Four-Boat men.

Barrie Youde

“We got off in Vancouver then made the short journey across the straits to Victoria, where the SS Fort Camosun was being built. We stayed in a hotel until we joined the ship on a day-to-day basis before taking up permanent residence aboard.  In June 1942, we loaded a full cargo of timber, stacked up on deck as well as in the holds and, after bunkering in New West Minster, started on the long haul home. It had been a tiring period preparing the ship for sea, so I turned in early to be awakened two hours later by a crunching noise and being rolled out of my bunk when the ship took a 20/30 degree list.  Our ship had been torpedoed just eleven hours out on her maiden voyage.
I quickly threw my bridge coat over my pyjamas, donned a pair of shoes and made my way to my lifeboat station. It was 11pm and very dark because all the lights had gone out. When I arrived at my mustering point I was stunned to see what I can only describe as a heap of firewood where my lifeboat should have been. The torpedo had struck in number two hold, on the port side and what I was looking at was the remains of No. 1 lifeboat, which had been blown clear over the ship to land on my lifeboat. That was the cause of the crunching noise I had heard, because it was directly above my cabin.
Initially, I experienced a weird sensation that the crew had abandoned ship, leaving me alone, but gradually the noise of people filtered through, so I made my way to the starboard boat, situated on the bridge structure. The Captain, Chief Engineer and other crew members had assembled there and the decision to abandon ship had already been made because of the damage sustained. The torpedo had hit on the port side, shifted 50,000 cubic feet of timber which caused a split in the hull on the opposite side and also lifted the decks.
The hole made by the strike was some fifty feet diameter and there was the very real danger of the vessel breaking in half.

We all took up positions in the lifeboat and, after being joined by the remaining boat, pulled away into the dark night. The sea was quite calm and although excited, I didn’t feel we were in any real danger.

Then I saw a flash followed by a thud and a shower of sparks from the ship.  The submarine had surfaced and was attempting to sink our ship by firing shells from its deck gun. I saw another flash, followed by a ripping noise through the air, which was the missile passing close. The submarine was obviously trying to find us and I must admit that I was terrified. The Japanese weren’t noted for their leniency to prisoners – if they took them! The shelling stopped but then the sinister noise of his exhaust could be heard as he cruised around, trying to locate us.

It was truly terrifying and I even toyed with the idea of slipping over the side and hanging on to the boat. The reality is that I would not have lasted long because the water is bitterly cold, the result of an Arctic current sweeping south. So we just sat quiet and prayed.  Eventually, the exhaust note faded and we breathed a sigh of relief. We presumed the submarine had abandoned the search, but a few minutes later it returned.  He had gone up the other side of the ship which had blanketed the sound but was now back sweeping the area for survivors. Once again the noise of his engine faded away and after a short time it was agreed that he had left the scene, so we settled down for the night.

When the two lifeboats had joined up, some observant soul pointed out that the two navy gunners were missing. The Captain asked for two volunteers to go back board to investigate. I instantly put up my hand, and the 3rd officer, Mr Coles, said he would accompany me.

We pulled alongside the stricken ship, climbed aboard and began the search. Mr Coles went to the bridge area whilst I went aft to their cabin. To my amazement I found them both asleep. I woke them and explained what had occurred and that we had abandoned ship but I was told, in fluent Navy language, to “go away”. They had slept through the incident because their cabin was directly opposite the steering flat where the steering engine which pulled the rudder over was located. They had become accustomed to the noise and vibration. Once I had convinced them, it was back to the boat and away into the night. There was no point in rowing around so we just drifted. I tried to sleep but the cold and cramped conditions made it near impossible. The next morning we sent out a distress call on a portable radio operated by a hand driven generator.

A few hours later an American Flying Fortress located us, wagged its wings to indicate he had spotted us then dropped a marker flare. We now knew it was only a matter of time before rescue came and sure enough, in the late afternoon, a Canadian Corvette came over the horizon.

During the night, the Captain had valiantly given his uniform jacket to a crew member called McCarthy, a big Liverpool/Irish stoker. When the torpedo struck, he had dashed up from the engine room clad only in a singlet and jeans. Having been torpedoed before he knew the score. After circling the ship and dropping depth charges, the Corvette came to pick us up and who should be first to board her but our friend McCarthy. The officer on duty saluted him and welcomed “the Captain”  aboard and McCarthy played it up to the hilt returning the officer’s salute whilst the Captain sat in the lifeboat trying to attract the attention of the Navy Officer. However, McCarthy backed off when the Officer said he would take him up to the bridge to meet the Commander.

The ship had to be prepared for towing so a volunteer skeleton crew, including myself were put aboard to set up the towing ropes. Once completed we patched up the hole in the hull using a mattress and some timber from the cargo.  No more could be accomplished so we re-boarded the Corvette which took us back to Victoria from whence we had commenced the voyage. The good people of Victoria made a great fuss over us. We were invited to take our pick of clothes from the shops and we were treated to dinner at the Mayor’s residence and even got to sign the visitor’s book in the town hall.

The ship was towed into dry dock in Esquimo where a huge wooden patch was put over the hole made by the torpedo. I was included in the skeleton crew assigned to take her to Seattle for permanent repairs in the naval dockyard there.

The Torpedo damage. Picture. Veterans Affairs Canada: www.acc-vac.gc.ca/remembers/sub.cfm?source=history/secondwar/atlantic/photohis#a03

The repair took almost two months, during which time we lived in a hotel On completion we took her back to Victoria where, once again, a full cargo of timber was loaded. We then set off for home once more via Guantanamo and New York. The passage was made with only two incidents; an attack on the convoy by a submarine in the Atlantic and a strange happening when we were passing through the North Channel, after the convoy had dispersed.  A German aircraft flew over, dropped one bomb which landed well clear of the ship and simply flew off; probably to a base in occupied Norway”.

The following information is from the history link website. Read the full entry here

SS Fort Camosun:

On June 20, 1942, The new coal-burning freighter SS Fort Camosun was on her maiden voyage from Victoria to England with zinc, lead, plywood, and other raw materials.  Just after midnight, in a position approximately 70 miles SW of Cape Flattery, the Japanese submarine I-25, under the command of Commander Meiji Tagami, launched a torpedo which severely damaged the hull after which the submarine surfaced and fired on the vessel with her deck gun causing further damage. The Officers and crew abandoned ship and were rescued later that day by the RCN corvettes Edmunston and Quesnel. Although the 1-25 had reported the Fort Camosun as sunk she actually remained afloat but semi submerged and disabled. The Edmunston, along with three US tugs took her in tow to Neah Bay for temporary repairs after which she was fully repaired at Seattle and returned to serve throughout the rest of the war, surviving another torpedo attack in the gulf of Aden.

The following information is edited from the Wikipedia entry for the I-25. To read the full wikipedia entry click here

Submarine I-25

The submarine I-25 is of interest because it carried a two-seater Yokosuka E14Y reconnaissance floatplane, known to the Allies as “Glen”. Made in specialist kit form it was stowed in the front of the conning tower and was assembled and disassembled by the crew.

www.subart.net/

On the same voyage as the attack on the SS Fort Camosun, the I-25′s “Glen” shelled a small coastal army installation. Damage was minimal and the only item of significance destroyed was a baseball backstop. However, on 9th September, 1942, the crew again deployed the Glen, which dropped incendiary bombs over the Oregon forest. This was the only time that the United States mainland was bombed from the air and the aim of the raid was to trigger wildfires across the coast. However, light winds, wet weather conditions and two quick acting Fire Lookouts kept the fires under control, indeed, had the winds been sufficiently brisk to stoke widespread forest fires, the lightweight Glen would have been unable to fly.

I-25 was subsequently sunk by US destroyer USS Paterson in 1943

The Dutch tanker Nacia approaches a Bergeson VLCC / OBO. (pilot J. Morrison) These vessels were the largest two vessels to undertake the transfer operation.  Photo E. Ramsay.  The Isle of Arran is visible to starboard.

As many of you are probably aware there have been several proposals tabled during the last few years to permit ship to ship oil transfers at several locations around the UK coast especially for the export of oil cargoes from Russia where the depth of the Baltic precludes the use of large tankers. For many years such operations were occasionally carried out off Lyme Bay but following pressure from local environmentalists, these transfers were suspended voluntarily by the operators several years ago. Whilst the debate continues over the granting of permissions for such operations, retired Clyde pilot Ewan Ramsay sent me some photographs of oil transfer operations that the Clyde pilots undertook in the 1970’s.Although the actual transfer took place at anchor, the two tankers secured to each other whilst underway and in the following account, which may of course be very valuable if such operations are permitted to resume, Ewan explains how the operation was handled by the pilots:

The operation to moor the two tankers together started with the smaller ship making a rendezvous with a tug off Ardrossan and picking up 3 large Yokohama Fenders to place alongside on the port side and two smaller fenders — one over the port bow at the end of the forecastle head and the other on the port quarter.

The 33,000 tonne French Shell tanker Isidora (pilot J Barron) approaches the VLCC Richard Maersk (pilot E. Ramsay).  Photo: E Ramsay

The Pilot on the “small” ship then proceeded towards the VLCC  and Pilot on the VLCC steered a course so that the wind was 10 degrees on the port bow. The larger ship adjusted speed to suit the smaller ships minimum speed ( normally about 5 – 6 knots in the case of a motor ship). The smaller ship then approached from the starboard quarter, usually giving helm orders of port 10- midships- port 5 midships- port 10 –midships and reducing speed until both ships were abreast and in position alongside each other.

Having made contact the helm of the smaller tanker is placed hard to port to secure the bows.  Photo: E Ramsay

Once the fenders touched and with both vessels relatively stopped alongside each other the pilot on the smaller ship put the helm hard to port while the bow was tied up to the other ship. Once the bows were secured together the stern moorings were passed and secured

Once “all fast”, the Pilot on the VLCC took over the Piloting of both ships to the designated anchorage area where the transfer took place. 

Ewan Ramsay on board the Richard Maersk during transfer operations. Photo: E Ramsay’s collection

With respect to other vessels, operations were always undertaken in daylight outside the Cumbrae Heads, where there is plenty of sea room and virtually no crossing traffic so thankfully we never encountered any close quarters situations. 

Ewan Ramsay

Following completion of loading the Dutch tanker Sepia (pilot N Campbell) departs from the Richard Maersk  Photo: E RamsayPhoto captions

The pilot cutter “Protector”

Although not as common as in WW2, there were many civilian deaths in WW1.

People died as a result of Zeppelin raids or naval bombardment; they died from explosions in munitions factories; and they also died serving the war effort in other ways, with the Red Cross, the YMCA, as chaplains, as civilian staff of the Admiralty and as pilots on the river, among others.

River pilots, aboard cutters, were employed to guide ships safely into harbour, and in this capacity they ran the gauntlet of mines laid by the enemy during WW1.

One such was the pilot cutter “Protector”.

“Protector” was built in 1907 by Rennoldson at South Shields on the Tyne.

On New Year’s Eve 1916, “Protector” left the Tyne to escort a vessel inwards; the crew, looking forward to a swift return to celebrate the New Year, never saw 1917.

“Protector” was devastated by a mine in the entrance to the Tyne and was sunk with the loss of all 19 men aboard. The oldest man lost was aged 70 and the youngest was just 16.

All of these men were from Tyneside.

It seems that only one body was recovered: Robert Phillips, Pilot 1^st class, the oldest man on board at the age of 70, is buried in Tynemouth cemetery.

The other men were lost, and are all commemorated on the Tower Hill Memorial.

Here they are, in alphabetical order:

John Swinney BONE

John was a Pilot 1^st class, and he was 36 when he died. He was born in South Shields, the son of Thomas and Ann [Alice?] of 155 Lawson Terrace, South Shields.

In 1901 the family lived in Henry Street. John’s father Thomas was also a pilot, as was his brother Thomas. His brother Robert was a fireman on a tugboat. All the family were born in South Shields.

John is commemorated on the Tower Hill Memorial.

Charles BURN

Charles was a Pilot 1^st Class, and he was 53 when he died. He was born in South Shields, the son of Charles and Catherine of 21 The Lawe, South Shields. His father and four brothers all worked on the pilot vessels. All were born in South Shields.

Charles married Margaret Elliott Wright in 1893 and they lived in Roman Road in 1901 with children Catherine, Margaret, Charles, and Lancelot.

The family later lived at 41 Trajan Avenue in South Shields.

Charles is commemorated on the Tower Hill Memorial.

John Hart BURN

John was a Pilot 2^nd class, and he was 39 when he died. He was born in North Shields, the son of Ralph and Annie of 13 Walker Place, North Shields.

John was one of at least 9 children, some born in North Shields and some in South Shields.

His father Ralph was also a pilot, born South Shields.

John married Charlotte Louise Garred in 1903 and their last known address is 15 Coburg Terrace, South Shields. A daughter Ellen was born in 1912.

John is commemorated on the Tower Hill Memorial.

Robert CHAMBERS

Robert was a Pilot 1^st class, and he was 48 when he died. He was born in South Shields, the son of Robert and Ellen. His father was also a pilot, and in 1881, at the age of 13, young Robert was already a pilot assistant.

Robert married Margaret Ann Bell in 1892 and by 1901 they were living in Baring Street, South Shields with children Robert, Caroline, William and Joseph.

Robert is commemorated on the Tower Hill Memorial.

John Cawthorne CREE

John was a pilot assistant, and he was 19 when he died. He was born in South Shields, the son of John and Elizabeth. His father was also a pilot, born in Jarrow.

In 1901 the family lived at 43 Trajan Avenue in South Shields and John’s last known address was 60 Kensington Road.

John is commemorated on the Tower Hill Memorial.

William Robert FORSTER

William was 1^st engineer, and he was 39 when he died. He was born in North Shields, the son of William and Margaret. His father was a publican in Middle Street, North Shields in 1881.

In 1901, William Robert was serving as an engineer aboard the vessel “T.W.Mould” and was unmarried.

He married Edith Annie Downie in 1908 and the last known address of his wife was 115 Howdon Road in North Shields.

William and Edith had three children: Edith, Kenneth, and Sidney.

William Robert Forster is commemorated on the Tower Hill Memorial.

Thomas HERON

Thomas was a Pilot 1^st class, and he was 42 when he died. He was born in South Shields, the son of Benjamin and Esther. His father and two brothers were also pilots.

In 1901 the family lived in Edith Street in South Shields and the last known address is 114 Baring Street, South Shields.

Thomas is commemorated on the Tower Hill Memorial.

Alexander LESLIE

Alexander was a pilot assistant, and he was 21 when he died. He was born in South Shields, the 5^th of 6 children of Alexander and Mary Ellen nee Waugh. His father was also a pilot.

In 1901 the family lived in Pearson Street in South Shields.

His mother died in 1900 and his father re-married to Elizabeth Jane Robson. His father died in 1912. The last known address for Alexander junior is 10 Keppell Street in South Shields.

Alexander is commemorated on the Tower Hill Memorial.

William LESLIE

William was a pilot assistant, and he was 19 when he died. He was born in South Shields, the son of Robert and Mary [probably nee Layden].

In 1901 the family lived at Lawe Cottages and his father Robert was also a pilot.

The last known address for William is 42 Collingwood Terrace in South Shields.

William is commemorated on the Tower Hill Memorial.

[Alexander and William Leslie do not seem to be brothers, but they may have been cousins.]

James Matthew MACCONNACHIE

James was a fireman, and he was 36 when he died. He was born in South Shields, the son of John and Jane Isabella. His father was a coal miner from Scotland, and in 1901 James was also working in the mines, living in Commercial Road in South Shields.

He married Sarah W. Dixon in 1913 and a son James was born in 1914.

Their last known address is 77 Eldon Street, South Shields.

James is commemorated on the Tower Hill Memorial.

Thomas Haw MARSHALL

Thomas was a Pilot 1^st class, and he was 36 when he died. He was born in South Shields, the son of John and Elizabeth Ann. His father was also a pilot, and in 1901 the family lived in Baring Street, young Thomas employed as a pilot assistant.

He married Elizabeth Ann Miller in 1902 in Tynemouth and they had a son John born 1912 and a daughter Elizabeth born 1915. There were probably other children born earlier.

His widow Elizabeth Ann re-married in 1921 to Arthur Smith, and her last known address is 45 Fairless Street in South Shields.

Thomas is commemorated on the Tower Hill Memorial.

James W. NICHOLSON

James was a steward, and he was 45 when he died. He was born in North Shields, the son of John and Ann. His father John was originally a sail maker, but later worked in a factory, probably due to unemployment.

In 1901, James was also a factory worker living in Union Road in North Shields.

He married Elizabeth Ann Thompson in 1893 and they had a son James and daughters Ann and Isabella.

His last known address is 27 Stormont Street, North Shields.

James is commemorated on the Tower Hill Memorial.

Robert PHILLIPS

Robert was a Pilot 1^st class, and he was 70 when he died. He was born in South Shields, the son of Robert and Catherine. This family produced a long line of pilots; Robert senior, born about 1817, was a pilot, as was his brother Ralph.

Robert junior, born about 1846, married Elizabeth Scott in 1867 and they had at least 8 children including John, William, and Ralph who all became pilots.

By 1891, Robert was living in North Shields with Isabella Henderson described as his housekeeper, but there is no wife Elizabeth, and in 1901 he was living in Vespasian Avenue in South Shields with his “wife” Isabella.

No marriage has been found. Several more children were born.

His last known address is 53 Trajan Avenue, South Shields.

As Robert is buried in Tynemouth [Preston] Cemetery, his appears to have been the only body to be recovered.

Sadly his grandson Ralph was with him on the “Protector”.

Ralph PHILLIPS

Ralph was a pilot assistant, and he was 20 when he died. He was born in North Shields, the son of Ralph and Jane, and the grandson of Robert.

His father Ralph was, of course, a pilot.

In 1891, Ralph senior was a pilot apprentice lodging with the family of Sidney Smith in North Shields. He married Jane Ellen Smith in 1893.

The family were living in Walker Place, North Shields in 1901, and Ralph’s last known address is 14 East George Street, North Shields.

Ralph is commemorated on the Tower Hill Memorial.

Thomas REED

Thomas was the master of the vessel. No age or place of birth is given for Thomas but he was probably born in about 1844 in North Shields.

There is a Thomas Reed, pilot, aged 37 living in Adamson’s Broadway in North Shields in 1881 with a wife Mary and 6 children including Thomas aged 15 [pilot apprentice] and Matthew aged 14.

In 1891 they are at the same address, and in 1901 his son Matthew C. Reed, a pilot, is living in Beacon Street in North Shields.

As Thomas gives his next of kin as M.C.Reed, this is likely to be his family. However we cannot be completely sure; the last known address for M.C.Reed is 19 Toll Square, North Shields.

Thomas is commemorated on the Tower Hill Memorial.

13/04/2010:

Note from Retired Tyne Pilot: John Hart Burn:

The Master-Thomas Reed: It was the practice at the time for those Pilot Assistants (Apprentices) who had obtained the required qualifications to be eligible to be examined for a first licence would be held close to the job so that they might be readily available for examination for that licence should a vacancy become available. They would be offered the job of Master of the steam cutter. Thomas Reed was one such. At a later date such candidates would be examined for the first licence and then if successful be offered the job as Master until a vacancy arose.

Bertram RUMNEY

Bertram was a cabin boy and he was only 16 when he died. He was born in 1901, registered as Bertram Thompson Rumney, in North Shields.

He was the son of William Rumney and Isabella Thompson who married in 1897. William was a coppersmith and the family lived in Dawson Street, North Shields in 1901.

However, in 1891 William was with his parents William and Mary at 27 Burdon Main Row, the last known address for Bertram. William senior was a boat builder.

Bertram is commemorated on the Tower Hill Memorial.

William H TINMOUTH

William was a Pilot 1^st class and he was 41 when he died. He was born in South Shields, the son of Thomas Young Tinmouth and his wife Sarah. His father Thomas was also a pilot, born in South Shields.

William Hopper Tinmouth married Mary Chambers Elliott in 1901 and they were living at 76 Edith Street in the 1901 census. Their last known address is 152 Fort Street in South Shields.

William is commemorated on the Tower Hill Memorial.

Matthew YOUNG

Matthew was a Pilot 1^st class and he was 42 when he died. He was born in South Shields, the son of Matthew and Margaret Young. His father Matthew was also a pilot, born in South Shields.

Matthew [junior] married Jane Taylor Downie in 1896 and by 1901 they were living in Henry Street, South Shields with children Jane and Matthew.

Their last known address is 77 Baring Street.

Matthew is commemorated on the Tower Hill Memorial.

William YOUNG

William was a Pilot 1^st class and he was 47 when he died. He was born in South Shields, the son of Thomas and Isabella nee Robson. Thomas was also a pilot, born in South Shields.

William married Priscilla McKenzie in 1887 in South Shields, and by 1901 they were living at 117 Baring Street in South Shields with six young daughters.

Their last known address is 58 Julian Avenue.

William is commemorated on the Tower Hill Memorial.

It is tempting to think that William Young and Matthew Young are related, especially as the families lived so close to each other, but the censuses give no suggestion that this is the case, and “Young” is a very common name in the area.

Sources;

“British vessels lost at sea 1914-18”

CWGC website

Censuses

GRO

WENDY CUMMIN 2008

Other pictures of the Protector