Beyond Endurance: An Epic of Whitehall and the South Atlantic

by Nicholas Barker

  The American base that had been established close to the western side of the Le Maire Channel was primarily to investigate the possibility of copper. One of the mountains is called Copper Peak because of its green-stained rock. Whatever the explanation of this phenomenon it is a misnomer. Plenty of mineral resources have been identified in the area but there appears to be little or no copper.

  Towards the end of that work period we visited Deception Island to the north-west of the Peninsula and just to the south of Cape Horn. The island is a volcanic crater with a recent history of activity. The shore line is covered in a mixture of lava and ice. These warm pools are a kind of health farm for seals and penguins. To get into the bay the ship had to enter through a narrow passage where the water is relatively shallow, then on to the crater area itself where the water is very deep. This made anchoring rather tricky.

  We were surprised to find company in the form of the German research ship, Meteor. I invited some of the scientific team and the Captain over for dinner. I think we made an impression on the Germans largely because of Britain’s long-standing commitment to the Antarctic. We learned that this was really a fact-finding mission. There were plans to replace the Meteor with a modern ice-breaking research ship, and to establish a base on the edge of the Weddell Sea. The scientists had already agreed that this was both feasible and desirable. There was also something of an historical precedent. During the period of the Third Reich there had been a base at Bellinghausen; it was likely that the new base would be nearby.

  The enthusiasm of everyone we met from the Meteor was infectious. I recalled this during the summer of 1981 when it was decided to withdraw the British military presence from the South Atlantic. There were already bases representing perhaps a dozen nations in the vicinity. The scientists worked in an atmosphere of co-operation and camaraderie that transcended politics.

  Maritime infrastructures were quietly supported by a military presence; that was the way the Antarctic game was played, and it seemed as if the British were to take no further part in it. We, who had stolen a march in some key areas of research, were going to pull out. It was almost unbelievable.

  The presence of Endurance gave us the Falklands as a staging post for exploration, and South Georgia as a forward operating base. They were stepping stones to potentially the most valuable land mass on earth. To throw it all away seemed to me to be imprudent almost to the point of stupidity. These kind of issues provided a constant source of discussion between the Pebbles, the Hunts and myself. Of course I was committed, but I have not yet met anyone who has visited and understood something of Antarctica who does not feel as passionately.

  It is the Peninsula area itself that has greatest impact on visitors. The great peaks running sheer down to the water are unforgettable. The icebergs along with coastline abound with wildlife. There are seals taking a nap and penguins sliding in and out of the water. There are also the leopard seals which bring to mind mythical sea serpents. They never tire of their fresh penguin diet. Indeed they are one of the most efficient murder machines on the planet: they can take and kill a penguin within a matter of seconds. The prey is taken and shaken on the surface and then the carcass is dragged beneath the waves for a swift silent dinner.

  Rex Hunt later acknowledged how ‘perceptive’ it was of the television companies to send their crews to the Antarctic just a year before the conflict. Until then there had been very little British media coverage. Both films ‘Langley South’ and ‘More British than the British’ reflected Islander opinion and accurately predicted the result of the October General Election. It is hard to say to what extent these factors influenced events but there can be little doubt they did. Until the films were broadcast the Falkland Islands were hardly part of British consciousness; afterwards there was at least some awareness of these tiny parts of Britain in the South Atlantic.

  After taking Rex and Mavis back to Stanley we set off north. The intention was to give the sailors a fortnight’s rest. Our destination was Mar del Plata. Following the unsullied condition of the Antarctic, this visit to Argentina’s Blackpool was perhaps something of an eye-opener. Not that we heard many complaints, apart from the prices. Later reports indicated that our men had taken full advantage of the local culture.

  The officers were offered something more sedate. We were to stay at a farm run by Anglo-Argentines Duncan and Bridget Cameron. There was a tradition of hospitality here: several generations of Endurance officers had stayed with the Camerons. There was riding and shooting, as well as insight into the way a large beef estate operated. Included in my itinerary was a trip to Buenos Aires to renew contacts at the Embassy and a swift trip in Uruguay. These visits were really an update on political thinking.

  From Mar del Plata we went down to the southern part of Argentina to lie off Rio Gallegos. The purpose was to fly one of our helicopters to pick up some helicopter parts. As it happened I flew into the airfield later used extensively for the Falklands invasion and for the deployment of strike aircraft. Early in 1981 it was a base for Mirage and Super Etendards, ostensibly in the front line against Chile. We watched them operate. The pilots, who wore large red scarves and grey overalls, looked uncannily like Second World War Spitfire pilots. No doubt this was the influence of the movies. It certainly had the desired effect on the opposite sex, who regarded them, even before a mission was flown in anger, as heroes. We also watched a helicopter come in from one of the oil rigs. The South African pilot had been trained alongside our own Tony Ellerbeck in the UK. This contact led to insights into Argentine oil exploration off the Straits of Magellan which pushed out approximately 100 miles towards the Falklands. The residual gap was now down to 300 miles.

  Most of March was spent off the Peninsula and the vicinity of Rothera Base which was used for life and earth science studies by the British Antarctic Survey. This was the first time I had been so far south. Our main purpose was to survey an area where a ship had run aground two years earlier. There was also the opportunity for some life science work. One morning I took the helicopter to a rock where Emperor penguins had been sighted. This was slightly unusual because these penguins usually disappeared during the summer months. In the event the population seemed to amount to one Emperor. The instruction had been not to land in case we disturbed nesting arrangements. Under the circumstances I felt this could be safely ignored. I went in with the aircrew and ship’s photographer to try to get a close-up view of this enormous penguin. The idea was to place a copy of Moby Dick and a Penguin chocolate bar close enough to him to help capture the scale. We were just about to complete the task when Nigel Bonner, the Head of Life Sciences at Cambridge, hove into sight over the rocks.

  ‘Good morning Nick,’ he called out, ‘what are you doing here?’

  When he reached us I was forced to explain that the plan had been to photograph the penguin with a book and a Penguin bar.

  ‘But haven’t you read my instructions?’ he asked.

  I admitted I had, but at the same time had felt safe enough from the Director on this desolate Antarctic rock. How wrong I was.

  We returned to Stanley at the end of March, and then it was briefly up to Montevideo to collect the latest detachment of marines who would serve in the Falklands through the winter. It was then plain sailing via Santos and Tenerife for Portsmouth where we arrived on 12 May.

  Chapter 4

  ENDURANCE VERSUS WHITEHALL

  I was to report to the Ministry of Defence and the Commander-in-Chief Fleet. This I believed would be a complete affirmation of our presence in the South Atlantic. But the debate beginning elsewhere would come to a very different conclusion.

  In the summary to my ‘Report of Proceedings’ [July 31, 1981] I wrote:

  It was a valuable and thoroughly enjoyable season. I am convinced that both the Antarctic continent, and the continental shelf, will offer immense mineral wealth in the not too distant future. Her Majesty’s Government would be very unwise to give up the British Military presence in both th
e Antarctic and Falkland areas.

  The Defence cuts had been announced on 25 June. Endurance had been placed on the disposal list and Chatham dockyard was to close. Those of us who cared about these things were immensely saddened. It was the kind of unity that comes from mutual pain that let our Chatham refit continue without any form of industrial disruption.

  This was to be a summer of mixed emotions for me. The euphoria I felt on returning to the UK had quickly evaporated. It took a while to prepare my case. In part this included taking advice from other RN captains. It was clear that the balancing act would be tricky. Whilst it would be understood that a captain would fight for his ship it would have to be done in a measured and objective way. The principal argument would certainly be that £3.5 million was excellent value when the many roles of the ship were considered. Steadily I put together a portfolio of evidence and made ready for calls on the Commander-in-Chief Fleet, my own boss (Admiral Sir John Cox) and the relevant sections in the MOD. I particularly remember calling on the Director of Naval Plans, Captain (later Admiral Sir) John Kerr. He yawned throughout our meeting at his Whitehall office. Either I wasn’t putting my case concisely enough or he simply wasn’t interested in the Antarctic. After about 15 minutes he yawned theatrically and announced that Admiral George was waiting to see him about a dockyard problem. His attitude had angered me.

  ‘Bugger Admiral George,’ I said, ‘he can wait a bit longer.’

  I knew Tony George and was sure he would agree that the safety of one of our colonies took priority over a dockyard dispute.

  ‘I will conclude this briefing as quickly as possible and then I shall go.’ I said.

  This may have been less than diplomatic but it did capture his attention. By the time I left his office I think he understood that the rights of two thousand British subjects should be considered and that withdrawing Endurance would be seen as a green light in Argentina. He noted my comments without enthusiasm.

  Getting his attention was like getting in one good punch at a boxing contest. But it was already clear that I was up against heavyweight opponents whose combined strength was perhaps more than enough to camouflage a lack of strategic awareness.

  Already the Royal Marines based on the islands had been informed that they were not going to get new accommodation. The Islanders were also now aware that they were not going to get British citizenship. All these indications were absorbed by the Argentine Junta and would later be used as propaganda. The argument continued through the Summer of 1981. The crux of the whole thing now was – if Endurance was to be saved who was going to pay?

  I knew it was pointless going back to John Kerr, or even over his head to Rear Admiral (later Admiral Sir) Derek Reffell. His view, I had every reason to believe, was that decisions had to be made in line with priorities and £3.5 million for the South Atlantic was not his main priority. Later, as Barker’s luck would have it, he later became my boss; our differences over Endurance were not the best foundation for a working relationship, particularly as by then he had been proved to be wrong.

  I also called on an old friend, Captain Brian Outhwhaite, then Director of Naval Operations and Trade. In contrast to John Kerr, he listened most intently and immediately became the most supportive of all the Divisional Heads. Later he wrote a summary of events and some of the discussions to which he was privy:

  I consider the course of the fate of Endurance was the principal signaller of our intentions to the Argentines. It is therefore important to appreciate the emotions she generated within the FCO and MOD and to realize that, subconsciously at least, Nick Barker’s name was a dirty word to some and therefore to be discredited or, at the very least, discounted.

  My reason for saying this is because our intentions with regard to the Endurance was read by the Argentines as evidence of our military will because every time her future was raised in the Commons, and in the national press, the reply was negative. The most that was admitted was that a frigate would visit the Falklands from time to time.

  The Naval Staff had put up a long list of cuts that included Endurance, The original saving was to be in the region of £2 million, later increased to £4.5 million. Nick thereupon started a valiant campaign. He was even caught in the House of Lords itself, lobbying. [This last remark was untrue but it no doubt reflected the nature of the response to my campaign.]

  Nick also called on Assistant Under-secretary of Naval Staff, Mike Power, and Nigel Nicholls, and had a stand-up row. [Again, an understandable elaboration of the facts.]

  My own thoughts were very clear about the idiocy of scrapping the ship. But the First Sea Lord and Vice Chief of Naval Staff had other priorities, perhaps understandably.

  Nick continued to lobby forcibly and in the early part of this year Michael Shersby (a Conservative MP) went to Lord Carrington and said that the Foreign Secretary had misled the house on the subject of the number of Argentines on Southern Thule. Somewhat naturally Lord Carrington was cross and asked how he came by this information. Michael Shersby replied that Captain Barker had showed him one of his reports before he sailed. The FCO had in fact been sent the report by DI4 [an intelligence section] and had not taken note of it. DS5 sent a signal to Nick, without discussing it with me, for which they subsequendy apologized. In this they asked for his reasons.

  In the latter part of 1981 a large number of Conservatives signed an Early Day Motion on the Falklands. Part of this was an expression of concern about the future of Endurance. The Foreign Secretary sent a note to John Nott saying that, on balance, he thought it wiser for the ship to be kept. The latter replied, somewhat curtly, suggesting that unless the FCO could fund the Endurance he had rather more important priorities for the defence vote.

  There were a number of times when either the First Sea Lord or the Commander-in-Chief Fleet wanted to make sensible precautionary dispositions and their proposals were treated harshly. The abiding impression I have is of diplomatists who had no wish to see delicate negotiations upset by heavy-handed sailors.

  By the time I left DNOTI can honestly say that I was worried more than usual by the Falklands. The Foreign Office had firmly indicated by thought, word and deed that a military encounter was not an option. I had considered British Military engagement but had recoiled from the effort and risk involved. Was I wrong to be cautious? DI4, when we visited, did not even mention the Falklands and did not remember the early scrap merchants’ diplomatic telegrams pointing to armed action.

  Brian Outhwhaite also let me see some of the inter-departmental and inter-divisional correspondence. This made it clear that I was losing the battle for Endurance.

  A change of tactics was required which must now include making representations at the highest Government level. What if Lord Carrington, the Foreign Secretary, could be won over? Would he perhaps bring a little pressure to bear on John Nott? To this end I went to see Robin Fearn in the Foreign Office. After a whole day’s discussion, we put together a short, but strongly worded document that set out the main arguments. This was submitted through Robin’s boss, John Ure, to the Foreign Secretary.

  Much later I found out what had happened to our brief. Lord Carrington had indeed made representations to John Nott, but by then our case had been diluted to a single paragraph of a wide-ranging document which was more concerned with the future of Hong Kong and Gibraltar. I sought other support from within the MOD. I knew that my old friend Captain Tony Collins, then Director of Navy Publicity, had the ear of the Vice-Chief of Staff and the First Sea Lord. I also called on Admiral Fieldhouse who was Commander-in-Chief Fleet, and Admiral Anson who was Chief of Staff. Both of them gave me a fair hearing, and, at a later stage, Admiral Fieldhouse called for a contingency plan for the defence of the Falklands to be discussed. In essence this was putting the question: ‘What do we have in mind as a response to a possible invasion?’ The answer was inadequate but a contingency plan of sorts was discussed. In the event it was not put into practice.

  I was certainly not without allies. M
y own boss, John Cox, supported me wholeheartedly. This caused him no end of trouble, but to his great credit he was not to be deflected from putting the argument across. He did his best to convince Admiral Reffell. He also took up my cause with Admiral Staveley, the Vice-Chief of Naval Staff. I hoped this might be a fruitful course to steer. Admiral Staveley had a family association with the Falklands: his grandfather (also an Admiral) had won the first Battle of the Falklands. Sadly, in keeping with the opinion of his senior colleagues, he saw the Falklands as insignificant, out of area, and nothing to do with the mainstream of a defence strategy which was focused almost entirely on the Soviets. The Falklands was an unwanted legacy, the bin end of an empire. The indecisions made in Whitehall were against the best judgement, not just of myself, but of others well placed to perceive the threat. As the announced cuts were likely to include the aircraft carrier Invincible, and a number of destroyers and frigates, the fate of Endurance did not feature on the list of priorities.

  John Nott’s view was that the concept of global reach for the Royal Navy (implicit in the idea of a balanced Naval Task Force) was something we could no longer afford. It was supported only by those whose aspirations were driven by nostalgia. He also believed that the balanced Naval Task Force was in itself an anachronism that should have been buried when the last fixed wing aircraft carriers, Ark Royal and Eagle, were decommissioned. All we had now were anti-submarine helicopters and a handful of Harriers. The strike aircraft, Buccaneers and Phantoms, were fast becoming redundant, and in any event were operated by the RAF.