Polar Voyages

by Gray, Gordon

  He ordered me to investigate, as a matter of urgency, the whole radio reporting system and the procedures currently used and to devise a better and more foolproof method of monitoring the ships when they were at sea. Every trawler in the company was supposed to make contact with the office, either directly or indirectly, at least once every twenty-four hours. The old Morse radio systems on board the older ships did not always make this easy and quite often trawlers simply could not make contact with the UK shore radio stations. This could be due to lack of transmitter power, atmospherics, bad weather, or just the sheer distance from the UK. I had to sort this out and create a foolproof, disciplined system that would ensure every trawler at sea was accounted for by the office at least twice a day. To achieve this I would need the help of the radio operators and to spend time at sea in the Arctic seeing first-hand what went on.

  In the winter of 1974 there had been a large number of trawlers that had missed their scheduled office calls, or ‘Skeds’ as they were known; for all sorts of reasons and had then called in a day or so later saying all was well. It was this element of doubt that had to be removed so that the duty manager in the office could be confident that all was well, or if not, start a full search at the earliest opportunity. After a few weeks work, and after trips to sea and many discussions with the ROs, I put forward a new system that overlaid the existing system so that if a ship did not respond to a timed sked call a procedure was set in place to find her. One of the trawlers on the ground had to take on the role of control ship and was responsible for all the skeds of the other company ships while it was the control ship. When it left the grounds another ship would take over control. The new system was documented and published in a little red book that was inspected and approved for use by the Trawler’s Mutual Insurance Company. Every skipper and every RO was issued with a copy. The books were accompanied by a note from Mr Graham telling the ships to use it – or else! On fish dock an ‘or else’ from Graham Hellyer meant ‘Do it if it kills you because if it doesn’t, I will.’ In the following winter of 1975, with the new procedures in force, there were no incidents of any trawlers missing their skeds so the new system seemed to work.

  Cassio – Trip to the Barents Sea

  To properly understand the needs and issues of the radio operators and resolve the daily reporting issues I needed to spend time at sea on board the ships and see how what daily life as a trawler RO was all about. My first trip away nearly started out as a fiasco. I was due to sail on the Cassio, a freezer trawler bound for the Barents Sea. The RO was ‘Jesse’ James. Jesse was a great guy who took his job seriously and we had had many chats in the office where he was happy to explain to me about the issues he and other ROs had in terms of keeping the ‘Skeds’, contacting shore stations and repairing equipment.

  The stern trawler Cassio in Hull Fish Dock. Like many Hellyer Bros trawlers, she was named after a Shakespearean character. Her handsome superstructure is a prominent feature. (Photo with approval from and thanks to the Hull Daily Mail)

  The Cassio was due to sail on a Saturday morning. ‘What time do you want me down on the dock tomorrow?’, I asked Ben, the Ship’s Husband. ‘Ten o’clock’, he said. At ten to ten, Doreen drove me onto the dock. ‘Oh look,’ I said, ‘one of the other freezers is sailing too’, as I saw the white superstructure moving slowly above the other trawlers, out through the lock and into the river. Then it hit me. I had missed the ship! It was the Cassio! The ship’s husband had meant that the ship would sail from the dock at ten (or even earlier), not for me to arrive at ten. I was immediately terrified of the idea of going into the office on Monday morning and having to say I missed the ship. I thought rapidly ‘How can I catch up with her?’ ‘Doreen, quick, drive me down to Corporation Pier.’ Doreen drove me down to the Corporation Pier, which was a mile or so downstream from the fish dock, where a duty Pilot Boat was often berthed. My luck was in and a pilot cutter was alongside the Pier. I rushed down the pontoon and onto the cutter. ‘Look, I am sorry but I have missed the Cassio in the dock, Can you please take me out to her as she goes past?’ ‘Oh yeah, and who the ‘ell are you?’ was the friendly response! I explained. My luck held and they smiled at each other and agreed. We could already see the Cassio as she moved out into the main stream and started to pick up speed. She came down the river towards us and her dove grey hull towered over the pilot boat as she approached. The pilot had called the skipper over the VHF radio ‘We have got late crewman trying to join the ship. Can you please stop the ship skipper?’ Cassio slowed, a rope ladder was dropped down the side and I scrambled on board. I made my way sheepishly up to the bridge for a roasting from the skipper for holding up his ship and messing everyone about. However, I was met by a beaming face of the skipper Alfie Myers, and Jesse, who both thought the whole thing was a big joke with lots of comments about ‘Management time keeping’, and ‘Managers always have a long lie-in on Saturdays’. All was well and the trip had finally got off to a good start.

  Cassio was built by Yarrows on the Clyde in 1966. She was 224-feet long with a tonnage of 1,500 tons. She had a very handsome superstructure with a graceful, gently curved front; she even had a small promenade deck. From the bows she could have been mistaken for a passenger liner.

  I was given the spare cabin on board Cassio, which was grandly called the ‘Owner’s Cabin’. It was a good-sized and comfortable cabin with a porthole looking forward up the fo’c’sle so it was away from the noise of the trawl deck during fishing. It even had a small area of verandah deck outside the door for ‘promenading’. I looked about the cabin for a parasol. But, there was not one there!

  We sailed up the Norway coast in perfect weather with the crew working in shirt sleeves on the trawl deck getting the gear ready for fishing. I spent a lot of time with Jesse in the radio room learning about the operation of the radio skeds and the other work that the ROs got involved in. Their days were full; from the early morning calls to other freezers through to late night skeds and, in between, those the RO was calling up shore stations to collect messages from the company, sending and receiving crew messages to families for birthdays, anniversaries, etc. They also handled the other skeds between all company vessels on the grounds and, of course, the all important position skeds back to the company office once every twenty-four hours. When they weren’t doing that they would probably be trying to fix faulty electronics.

  In those days, all longer-range radio calls were sent and received in Morse code. It was fascinating to see the RO tapping away for hours on the Morse key and compiling the positions and catches of the ships. All the ROs were able to recognise each other by the way they used the Morse key. Every operator had a unique rhythm and firmness to their keying action so they always knew which ship was calling them before the ship identified herself. In between handling all of these calls, the RO was expected to keep all the radios and bridge electronics in top operational condition and to at least try and repair any piece of electronics that went wrong or broke down. If he could not fix it then he had to call me in the office with the details and I would contact the main service companies in UK. We would discuss the fault and get the necessary parts sent out to the ship so the RO could fix it or get a local electronics agent ashore to assist. This covered everything from the radios and radars to the warp tension meters on the trawl deck to the TVs and the film projector in the crew mess rooms.

  During the run up the coast, I spent some time on deck with the mate, Des. He was a friendly, chatty Welshman from Tiger Bay in Cardiff. He had sailed with the skipper for ages and explained what was happening on deck. I liked Des a lot and we got on well. He was also the spitting image of the singer Kenny Lynch. Thankfully though, he did not sing.

  Life on a freezer trawler was altogether much more comfortable than on the side trawlers. The ships were bigger, the accommodation was more comfortable, all the officers, the factory manager and the cook, all had their own cabins and the crew shared four-man cabins, all with port holes, rather than the
six-, eight- or even twelve-man cabins on some of the older side trawlers. As the ships would be away for much longer, the freezers were fitted with better recreation facilities and they all had TVs and film projectors with a supply of films put on board for each trip. The atmosphere also seemed a bit more relaxed. I cannot recall any time on Lord Lovat when the crew sat together other that for a quick pot of tea while waiting to haul the gear.

  Once on the fishing grounds off the North Cape, we received reports of good fishing further east, along the coast towards Russia. Cassio had several good days of calm weather and good catches and the mood on board was cheery and relaxed. Skipper Alfie always seemed to be in a happy mood and this spread through the crew. After a few days fishing, we moved back to the grounds off North Cape where a number of other BUT ships were fishing. By this time, Jesse and I had gone through all the issues of the daily sked routines on Cassio and it was time to change ships. The closest BUT ship to us was the Pict, fishing about 5 miles away. It was agreed that I would be transferred across by Zodiac boat later that day after both ships had completed their next hauls.

  Pict was one of the top freezer trawlers at the time. She was a newer ship than Cassio, built in 1973 by Brooke Marine. The RO was Dave Poole, who I also knew fairly well as Dave was always happy to spend time in the office when he was ashore and discuss the different aspects of his job. The warm weather and clear days continued off the North Cape of Norway and the fishing, while not fantastic, was good enough to keep the skippers relatively happy. The Pict was a happy ship and had the same cheery atmosphere on board as I had found in Cassio. This seemed to flow down from the skipper, Jo Russel. The freezer trawler skippers were highly experienced and successful fishermen who had all spent many years as skippers in side trawlers before moving to the freezer fleet. They were well respected in the industry and had loyal crews who would sail with the same skipper for as long as they could. Obviously, the skipper wanted to keep the good workers in his crew and this developed tight knit and successful crews. This trust and professionalism engendered the happy relaxed atmospheres that I found on Cassio and Pict. The food was good and there was always something new to learn.

  The Pict in BUT colours. (Photo with thanks to Walter Fussey of Hull, photographers)

  The Arab, sister ship to the Gaul and both built originally for Ranger Fishing Co. of North Shields. (Photo with thanks to Walter Fussey of Hull, photographers)

  The radio operators were not employed by the trawling companies but by the radio companies themselves. In those days, there were two main radio companies operating on the dock, Marconi and Redifon. The ROs were appointed by the radio company to the ships that had that company’s radio stations fitted as they had obviously been trained to operate and maintain that make and type of equipment. Cassio had a Marconi radio fit so Jesse was a ‘Marconi Man’. The Pict, however, had a Redifon fit and Dave was a ‘Redifon Man’.

  After a few days in Pict spent discussing the issues of skeds and daily reports with Dave and comparing notes with what I had learnt from Jesse, I needed to start to head for home as the office expected me only to be away at sea for just two weeks or so. The skipper started to ask around the other ships in the area to see if any ships were due to head home in the next few days. None were, but the Arab was due to go into a Norwegian port for bunkers in a few days. She was fishing nearby, so it was agreed that I would transfer over to her by rubber boat. I would then go ashore in Honningsvaag when she went in for fuel. The ship’s agent would be asked to arrange my onward flights back to the UK.

  As I went across in the boat, the Arab loomed up beyond the waves. She was a big, but squat looking ship with a BUT mid blue hull. There was no mistaking the workmanlike air about her, No nicely curved superstructures with promenade decks here. This instantly looked like a hard-working ship. She was also an identical sister ship to the ill-fated Gaul.

  The Gaul

  ‘Factory Trawler lost with all hands’ screamed the headlines. We were now fishing in the area in which the Gaul had been lost. She disappeared without trace, with all hands, a crew of thirty-six, on 8 February 1974, while ‘dodging’ in severe weather on North Cape Bank off the North Cape of Norway. The wreck was subsequently discovered some years later in position 72 degrees 5 minutes north and 25 degrees 6 minutes east.

  The Gaul was built for the Ranger Fishing Company in 1971 as the Ranger Castor by Brooke Marine in Lowestoft. She was a big trawler, over 200-feet-long and with a gross tonnage of 1,100 tons. When she was built, she was the latest word in deep-sea factory trawlers. She was bought by BUT two years later in 1973, along with a number of her sister ships, which were also renamed using the names of ancient tribes or peoples (Kurd, Kelt, Arab, etc.). The loss of such a new and modern ship, well-designed and crewed by experienced trawler men, was met with disbelief in the Hull fishing community.

  The Gaul, lost with all hands on 8 February 1974 off northern Norway. (Photo with thanks to Walter Fussey of Hull, photographers)

  As often happens when no wreck is immediately found, rumors and fanciful explanations start to emerge as to what has happened. The Gaul, sadly, was no exception and in Hull the relatives and friends of those missing were treated to the full range of the media’s fanciful imaginations in all their glory. One national TV channel even produced a TV documentary that included such nonsense as saying that the Gaul had been boarded and captured by the Russian Navy as she was a ‘Spy Ship’ and had been taken to a remote Russian Fjord. They even claimed that the crew was all OK and captive in Russia. The TV offered no explanation as to how the Russians might get aboard a high-sided stern trawler in a Force 9 Gale! They claimed that she could have been sunk by a submarine that had surfaced directly underneath her and holed her. None of this nonsense helped anyone and rather than get caught up debating such nonsense with the media the Company adopted a sensible ‘say nothing’ approach until a proper enquiry could take place.

  Others, who knew what fishing in an Arctic winter really was like, and who were wiser, followed the more logical possibilities. All the TV talk of Russian submarines capturing the Gaul was totally disregarded by the men who sailed in her sister ships.

  At the time of her loss she had been ‘dodging’ in very bad weather. Trawlers ‘dodge’ the weather when it is too bad to fish and the skipper wants to stay in the same area. When the weather gets too bad, all fishing is stopped and the factory deck is shut down. The crew, apart from those on watch, will use the time to turn in and catch up on sleep. The ship goes slowly into the wind and weather and then turns and runs down wind to the other end of the grounds and then turns and goes back into wind so that she remains in the same area. As winter gales in the Arctic can last for days, steaming in one direction all the time would result in the ship ending up miles away from the grounds, so they ‘Dodge’. The weather on the day the Gaul was lost, as reported by other trawlers in the area, started off with rough seas that had been built up by easterly winds of Gale Force 8, and which increased through the morning to Force 9 or even 10. The seas also got bigger. They had built up across the long fetch of the Barents Sea and at the time of her disappearance, three exceptionally large waves were reported by a number of other trawlers in the area. These waves crashed across the front of the trawlers, which were steaming into the wind, and caused considerable damage to bridge windows and other parts.

  The official report at the time concluded that the Gaul had capsized as a result of excess water flooding up onto her trawl deck from astern as she ran down wind and down sea. I asked the skipper of the Arab, Peter Abbey, about his thoughts on the loss of the Gaul. He was clear in his mind that she had been broached; i.e. hit by a big sea from the side as she was trying to turn back across the wind to head back up into the wind. He felt that perhaps the ship had been caught halfway round the turn by an exceptionally large wave and rolled over downwind. Once over, the power would probably have tripped off automatically and there would be nothing that anyone could do as they would all have bee
n thrown off their feet in a moment. His view and the view of his colleagues was that this was the likeliest cause. He also felt that there must also have been some other factors involved, such as large amounts of water swilling about on the factory deck, which is directly below the open trawl deck. Such amounts of water swilling about a ship’s deck is called ‘free surface’ and is extremely dangerous as it makes ships very unstable very quickly. This might have occurred if the pumps that drain the factory deck had been turned off or if the drains had become clogged after the factory had been shut down when they stopped fishing. Another contributory factor was the possibility that a door on the trawl deck near the stern ramp, which faced aft and which was not visible from the bridge, may have been left open and this would allow water to flood down into the ship if she was overwhelmed by a big sea. In that case, and, if the ship was in the middle of turning back into wind and was broadside on when one of the larger waves struck her, and if she had free surface water on the factory deck, then there would be nothing anyone could do.

  Subsequent experiments carried out by the National Maritime Institute using a large detailed scale model of the Gaul concluded that water on the trawl deck alone could not have caused her to capsize and that this could only be a contributory factor. Their conclusion was that the factory deck below must have had excessive flooding as well. The wreck was found in 1997 and an underwater survey was carried out in 1998. What they found was that she had not been captured by Russians or holed by a submarine. The hull was intact and the door at the aft end of the trawl deck was indeed open as were some engine room ventilators in the ship. Some offal discharge chutes were also found to be in an open position but as these were free swinging flap doors then nothing conclusive could be proved. Certainly once the ship had been rolled over and was under water then these chute doors could possibly end up in an open position allowing more rapid flooding; but that in no way proves that they were a cause of the disaster as some have tried to make out. In all other respects, she appeared to be as one would be expect a trawler dodging in bad weather to be.