It reminded me of a chapter in my book Tales From The Sea about becoming the Captain of a ship. The Captain is in overall charge of the ship and responsible for all that happens on board. If there are any problems, he will have to take the blame and the punishment. The Captain cannot be running things all the time and has to delegate to other officers. The same applies to Archbishop Welby:
I joined the Arrow as Captain at Hayes
Wharf where HMS Belfast is now displayed. In those days it was a cold store
berth and the Arrow had a refrigerated hold. It carried bacon from Poland to
London. Captain Moncur was pleased to see me and had everything ready for a
speedy transfer of the ship. I signed all the papers, took charge of the safe
keys and watched as the brass plate with Captain Gubbins replaced that of
Captain Moncur on the cabin door. After seeing him down the gangway and into a
waiting taxi, I climbed back on board realising for the first time that I was
officially in charge of this ship.
I had to undertake all the tedious tasks
that the master had to finish before the ship could sail. Like seeing agents, office staff and
some cases the police. The role of captain is not as glamorous as it appears to
the outsider. The few hours before sailing besides the paper work, the master
has to deal with all those people. Once they were all ashore, I was free to
take over the navigating of the ship. This is how I remember that first time I
went on the bridge of a ship as the Master.
After being called to the bridge, I
adjusted my black tie in the mirror making sure that the knot was just right.
The white shirt was pristine clean and my trousers newly pressed. Taking my
jacket from the hanger, I mentally shone the four gold bands forming the
diamond on the sleeve. Once in place, I fastened the gold buttons. Certain that
this looked fine, I picked up my cap from the desk and adjusted it on my head.
The new gold laurel leafs gleamed in the light streaming through the window of
my cabin. The mirror showed that I looked the part of a ship’s Captain.
When I reached the bridge, the pilot was
waiting. He congratulated me on my promotion when I joined him. He was the
river pilot who navigated the company’s ships from Gravesend to either Surrey
Docks or the London Pool.
“ Congratulations on your promotion. Are
we ready?” the pilot asked.
“ All ready,” I replied feeling strange at
giving the orders. “ We can sail.”
Over the radio, the pilot requested Tower
Bridge to be raised. I stood on the bridge wing watching the red lights flash
and the traffic coming to a standstill. The two halves of the bridge slowly
separated and rose into the air.
“ Right Captain, we can go,” the pilot
remarked with a smile.
“ Let go aft,” I gave my first order as a
Captain of a ship and watched the ropes slowly come on board.
The pilot grinned. “ Slow ahead,” he
ordered the third mate.
I stood and watched as my command slowly
turned to take the stern away from the quay.
“ Stop. Half astern.”
The ship steadily left the berth until
there was enough room to turn successfully into the river. I lent against the
varnished rail making sure that the four gold rings on my arm were plainly
visible to anybody who happened to be watching.
The rail flanking the road leading to
Tower Bridge was crowded with people watching as we sailed closer to the
bridge. I made myself conspicuous to the watching people, standing straight and
proud on the bridge wing.
The ship sailed under the open wings of
the bridge, the tracery of the ironwork above my head. Then we were out into
the river with the entrance to Surrey Docks to the south and Saint Katherine
Dock to the north. The ship picks up speed.
I instructed the third mate look after the
pilot and went into the radio room to tell the radio officer to inform the
company that we were out of the Pool of London and heading for Gravesend and
the sea pilot.
The ship sailed serenely down the river
passed the Royal Hospital at Greenwich and on to Gravesend. The steward brought
coffee and cakes.
As we approached Gravesend, a launch set
out from the pilot station jetty. The river pilot turned to me and said, “
Thank you Captain. I will see you when you return. The ship is all yours.”
As he left the bridge, I realised for the
first time that I was in complete charge of the ship. The wheelman grinned at
me.
“ Slow ahead,” I ordered the third mate.
He moved the telegraph and I heard the bell ring. The engine noise softened as
the ship slowed. The pilot boat manoeuvred alongside and I slowed the ship some
more. The sea pilot climbed the ladder and the river pilot left. He waved to me
as the pilot boat left the ship and headed back to the shore.
“ Half ahead,” I ordered and the noise of
the engine increased after the third mate had moved the engine telegraph.
The sea pilot arrived on the bridge. “
Good morning Captain. I’ll take over now. Congratulations on your promotion.”
“ Good morning. I will be in my cabin if
needed. The third mate will look after you. Call me when we are passing
Southend pier.”
Reluctantly I left the bridge and went
down to my cabin. For a while I engaged in the various administration tasks
that any Master had to undertake when the ship left port.
The call came as the ship passed Southend.
Looking out of the window I noted that the sun had gone and the mist had
descended making all around appear grey and dull.
When I came back to the bridge, the second
mate had taken over from the third mate. The ship was heading out to sea
through the sand banks at the mouth of the Thames. The red bulk of the pilot
boat could now be seen about ten miles ahead. The pilot ordered the course set
for the ship to rendezvous with the pilot boat
The pilot manoeuvred the ship so that the
wind was on the side away from the approaching cutter. and slowed the ship.
“ An uneventful passage down the river,
Captain,” he remarked. “ Hope you have a pleasant voyage. She is all yours
now.”
He shook my hand and accompanied by the
second mate left the bridge. I stood on the bridge wing watching as the pilot
climbed down the ladder into the waiting cutter. When the cutter swung away
from the ship and the sailor was pulling in the rope ladder, I turned and
pushed the engine telegraph to full ahead.
“ Steer 075,” I ordered the wheelman and
watched as the bow turned and then steadied. The second mate joined me on the
bridge and worked out the position of the ship.
Looking round the ship from the bridge I
found everything in order.
“ Its all yours, second mate,” I said and
walked from the bridge.
When I reached my cabin, placed my cap on
the top of the chest of drawers and my jacket on a hanger, it hit me. For the
first time since setting out on a career at sea, I had nothing to do with the
actual running of the ship. The ship would be navigated by the other officers
and they would resent any interference from me. Even though I was responsible
for the ship and the conduct of the voyage, many of these responsibilities had
been delegated as was the nature of seamanship, to the rest of the crew. In many
ways the captain is a distant figure who is in charge but not needed most of
the time at sea. A figure in the background who could be called if there were
problems but kept away when all was running smoothly.
I poured myself a gin and tonic and got
stuck into the paper work promising myself that I would not keep looking out of
the window. It was very hard to stop myself walking back onto the bridge to
check on progress. In truth I would not be wanted anywhere near the bridge
until we approached the pilot station off the River Elbe. When I got the call
from the chief officer that we were approaching the Elbe River it came as a
relief. I now had something to do other than sit and try not to worry. I came
alive once more as the ship approached the pilot station. I gave the orders for
the wheelman to take his station. Then I manoeuvred the ship so that the pilot
could climb aboard.
Tales From the Sea can be downloaded to an e reader or purchased as a paperback from Amazon.
