Charts today are very accurate;
centuries of exploration and survey have left
the oceans fully detailed. In the dim past it
must have been exciting to put to sea with vast
areas still showing as unexplored. Just think
about it, you could point your bow to the unknown
bits and just go, be the first. Now, well, nothing
should come as any surprise, it's all before you
in bland black and white, with the adventure reduced
to a few lines and boring numbers. How much more
enthralling and exciting to pick up a chart and
see whole areas showing as unknown and often with
the words 'Here There Be Dragons'.
It had been nearly a year since we sank a gunboat
while delivering a ship and its cargo to new owners.
A year during which all assignments had been quite
peaceful, in fact life was becoming quite mundane
and we were all getting a bit thick around the
waistline and according to 'Red', who never put
on weight, extremely lazy.
I had now been with The Ducks for six years, first
as one of the troops and later as skipper. To
date we had lost two of the team, Ed Marsh, aka
'Billy the Kid' who died aboard the 'Far Roamer'
and Peter 'Pedro' Preston who died in an underwater
explosion while we were investigating a wreck
for an insurance company. We had found replacements
for both men but as we were always an operational
team of eight, plus Red, who we kept out of the
thick of things, we had in fact lost a quarter
of the original men - that was too high a fraction.
'Taff', our resident Welshman and 'Guns' Grey
our 'nasty toy' specialist were with me in the
wheelhouse of a rather nice 75ft motor cruiser
that we were delivering from Hong Kong to Rabaul
for a friend who hadn't yet learned to drive.
The rest of the Ducks, including Red were, following
a hearty dinner which had lasted for three hours,
tucked in for the night. Luckily we brought our
own booze aboard or the bar would very quickly
have been emptied.
Once at Rabaul we would hand the cruiser over
to a small crew who would then drive her down
to Sydney. Unfortunately we couldn't do that as
Australia is a bit hot on crew having the correct
certificates, which we didn't at the time. Well,
not ones that would pass a very close inspection.
Later we had some terrific forgeries created and
these were so good they were never challenged.
Nobody was at the wheel as the auto pilot was
engaged and 'Duchess', as we nicknamed her, knew
where she was going. The only reason I was staying
up (it wasn't my watch) was because we were about
450 nautical miles south of Hong Kong and on the
slightly different course that I had chosen to
stay out of everybody's way, we would need to
stay sharp as we would be passing close to Truro
Shoal and then Scarborough Reef and I didn't want
to dent this gleaming new lady before her owner
got to play with her. For once we had all our
required navigation lights on as we weren't up
to anything nefarious, just doing a favor for
a friend.
I can't really claim that it was a pleasant night.
There were no stars and the wind was gusting to
25 kts making the sea rather choppy. We kept running
into and out of heavy rain squalls, warm tropical
rain that leaves the skin feeling sticky. However,
in the wheelhouse we were dry and comfortable,
probably too comfortable. A heavy meal, wine,
beer and then scotch do tend to make you a bit
drowsy. To stay alert I kept on my feet, ignoring
the comfortable chair at the wheel and every so
often I would climb up to the fair weather bridge
to get the rain on my face.
At around 0200 I thought I would take a stroll
around the vessel, not exactly doing rounds but
I liked to be sure that everything was in order.
We took Duchess off auto pilot and Taff manned
the wheel. Guns took up a position fwd with a
pair of night glasses to keep an eye out for shoaling
water. We were between showers and although there
were still no stars, I just had a feeling that
the weather was about to clear, the sea was smoothing
out. A quick trip below had shown that nothing
was amiss, no gas (yes she had porta gas, which
I thought stupid and dangerous) left on in the
galley, no cigarette butts burning holes in carpets,
all was peaceful.
Regaining the deck I heard a slight 'slapping'
sound and found that a lashing on the aft deck
awning had come a bit loose and was flapping in
the breeze created by our forward movement. No
great problem it would only take a second to fix,
even in the dark. But for some reason it wasn't
quite as dark as it should have been, I could
see that I had a very faint shadow.
Looking up I saw a brilliant shooting star that
had survived the entry into our atmosphere streaking
across the sky, or I should say 'down' the sky,
as it was evidently going to hit the water not
far ahead of us. It was obviously a fair size,
although I wouldn't even hazard a guess as to
what that size was, so it was probably going to
make quite a splash.
I took off for the wheelhouse at a great rate
of knots; there was a chance we were going to
get clobbered by a bit of a wave so there were
things to be done. The wheelhouse was empty but
by the movement of the wheel I guessed that Taff
had moved up to the second wheel on the open fair
weather bridge. Sure enough he was there, a big
smile on his face, you don't often get to see
a shooting star come down into the ocean and he
was enjoying the spectacle.
Unhooking the mike from its cradle I switched
the intercom system to 'whole of vessel'.
"This is you captain speaking", I started using
my most upper crust British accent "A meteorite
has hit the water ahead of us. This means we can
expect to get hit by a severe wave. Close all
watertight door and deadlights - then, if you
take my advice ... hang on". I replaced the mike
and turned. Taff was looking at me with a big
grin on his face.
"Pompous arse', he said "we don't have any watertight
doors". We wandered back down to the wheelhouse.
Guns arrived back; there was no point in him staying
on the bow to get soaked. Together we waited,
one minute, two, minutes, five minutes, then the
wave hit. Not exactly what I had anticipated,
in fact it was more of a big ripple, with about
as much affect on Duchess as a bursting soap bubble.
"Hope they got all those watertight door closed",
said Taff. "I would hate to think what would have
happened if they hadn't".
Guns was grinning at me "This is your Captain
speaking', he mimicked "Please open all watertight
door and deadlights. I have just been a big banana".
The two of them then dissolved into belly busting
laughter. It was going to take a while to live
this down.
The ribbing got expanded as the others started
to arrive in the wheelhouse. Nuts gave a very
formal Navy style salute and reported that "Engine
room took no damage ... sir. A pencil rolled off
the Chief Engineer's desk and fell with a crash
on the deck but damage control parties were able
to save it ... sir". Then with a bow to the others
he left to return to his engine room.
"Get back to the bow Guns", I said, "We are still
in dodgy waters". Picking up his night glasses
he trotted off still grinning. By now the wheelhouse
was getting quite crowded. "Go back to bed the
lot of you", I ordered. "Milling about like a
bunch of ruddy women". There was a sudden silence.
As they parted I saw, to my horror, that Red had
arrived and must have heard my last comment. I
knew then that my night was going to get a lot
worse.
"Hey". Guns was yelling from the bow. I wandered
out onto the tiny wing to better hear what he
was saying. "Straight ahead", he yelled "light
on the water and it appears to be heading this
way". I trained my glasses ahead. Sure enough
there was a green/white light heading towards
us - but it wasn't on the water, it was under
the water and it was moving bloody fast.
I confess that at that moment I was completely
stuck as to what to do next - something a good
ship's captain should never admit but I never
said I was a good one. I felt Red's hands on my
shoulders as she peered over my shoulder at the
strange phenomenon.
"Give her fifteen of port", I said to Taff and
he started to bring us round. Then 'Right, midships"
and we settled on a course about 90 degrees from
out original. The green light held its original
course and would pass way off our starboard but
as it did so it slowed and then vanished into
the deep. The whole thing had probably not taken
much more that a minute.
"What the hell was that"? said Pics. I noticed
he had a camera in his hand but I didn't, at the
time know if he had the time to have got any shots.
I was a question that didn't require an answer;
we were all asking ourselves the same question.
Once the object was out of sight it again became
a very normal night, the wind had slightly increased
and the chop got a bit stiffer but apart from
that, normal.
Red quietly slipped away back to our cabin and
the off duty guys faded into their personal areas
of the vessel.
I got Taff to put us back on our original course.
Guns went back to the bow and continued scanning
for shoals and Nuts turned up with some coffee
laced with just a small shot of brandy (I hate
rum).
We cleared Scarborough Reef at 0237 and Guns rejoined
us in the wheelhouse. For the region it was now
decidedly cold something that does happen from
time to time as several currents converge in this
area and where the sea does funny things the sky
follows. Duchess was a very silent ship, sound
from the engine room did not reach the bridge
and there was not the slightest rumble in the
floor plates. Only by looking aft and seeing the
expanding wake could you tell we were actually
moving.
It's at this stage that things started to get
a little weird and I really do mean weird. The
time would have been around 0300, all was quiet
and Guns, in an effort to keep awake had taken
the wheel from Taff who then decided to accompany
me on a little stroll around the decks.
I think we both became aware of the sound at the
same time, a deep rumble heard in the distance
but decidedly getting closer. The night was dark
but a pale moon had started to give some form
to the darkness and approaching from port was
a large vessel. She didn't seem to be on a collision
course, by the looks of things she would pass
well ahead of our bow but to be on the safe side
Taff and I returned to the wheelhouse. By the
time we got there the other ship was starting
to take a definite shape rather than the bow on
blob, she was certainly moving at a rate of knots
and the superstructure was quite jagged. Then
I realised that we were looking at a warship but
not one that had steamed these waters for many
years.
Passing ahead of us we all got a good look at
the lady. Grey/blue low in the water, huge bow
wave but now strangely silent, the rumble had
gone and a silent shadow of a ship swept past
without recognition. I confess that the hair at
the back of the neck started to stand up - the
feeling that swept over us was not only shock,
there was also some fear in there. Being ex navy
I knew (or thought I knew) what we were seeing.
This was a WW11 Leander Class Cruiser which had
not been in existence for many years.
To my mind she appeared to be steaming with a
purpose as if hurrying to an appointment somewhere,
she just had that important look about her. I
couldn't see any crew but that's not unusual,
with warships at night you don't see crew milling
about the decks.
To put the icing on the cake, just for a second,
she seemed to have sound again, and that sound
was of big marine turbine winding itself up -
it's a sound no old time navy man can ever forget,
it signifies sheer brute power.
After steaming past she remained in view for about
two minutes and then suddenly was gone ... she didn't
fade into the night, one minute we watched her
stern moving away from us, the next ... nothing,
just empty sea.
My mind was racing at a million miles an hour,
going back over history. The only ship I could
think of that matched what we had just seen was
HMS Amphion later to become HMAS Perth. She was
a very gallant ship and was eventually sunk in
March 1942 off the Sundra Strait whist in the
company of American warships. I seem to remember
that the USS Houston was also sunk.
I have no explanations for this event but I am
trying to keep an open mind. Taff, Guns and as
it turned out, also Morbid, who was woken by the
rumble, all saw exactly the same as I did. It
was a warship from the past and it did appear
from nowhere and disappear in the same manner.
For a few brief minutes she had a solid form and
was continuing her task of defending the seas.
I often wonder what we would have seen if Pics
had still been in the wheelhouse with his camera
but I'm willing to bet any photographs would have
shown nothing but empty sea.
At 0430 I decided to call it a night and turn
in, there was still an unexpected chill in the
air but Red made a fine hot water bottle. Passing
the chart table I noticed the small x that marked
our last position check. The chart was just a
bit of paper it couldn't know that on its surface
were not only black lines but a hidden history
of the place it represented. Taking a water glass
from the small rack I placed it on the chart over
our present position and used it to draw a circle.
Inside that circle I wrote 'Here There Be Dragons',
perhaps not fire breathing creatures but definitely
something unknown. In a strange way it made me
feel very happy, the sea had again become a place
not quite known, not yet fully tamed, there was
still that 'something' to keep us all on our toes.
'Here There Be Dragons' ... there certainly are.
