by Peter Tonkin
Crowded on to two tables right at the front of the room, facing Chairman Cross and his acolytes, were the four teams of barristers Robin had described. Each little group wedged against the table was backed up by a larger cohort on the chairs immediately behind. There were quite a few of these and they stretched right across the room, in some places three rows deep. Then came the chairs filled by Richard and the others summoned to give evidence. Behind him a smattering of teenage faces - many of them oriental - some of the cadets rescued from Goodman Richard. With a shock that genuinely shook him, he recognized the face of the girl who had rescued him from the muggers. What was her name? May Chung. Almost guiltily he turned and continued examining the lay-out of the court-room in front of him, wondering why there were so few of them actually here.
There was what he supposed to be a press gallery back against a far wall, sideways-on between Cross and the four sets of barristers. And, opposite, the dock; vacant now because there was no one here accused of any crime.
Well, that was the theory at least.
And, when Cross started to speak, the theory seemed to be standing safely in practice. Or rather it did so to begin with. His voice was deep and mellifluous, his tone mild. ‘We established yesterday that Lionheart was a well found, properly maintained, fully insured vessel. She was duly and legally at sea with the full knowledge of the relevant authorities, in the possession of well-known and well-respected owners - to wit Heritage Mariner, a public company quoted on all the major stock exchanges. And under the command not only of an experienced, senior company captain but also of not one, but two owners’ representatives with a visiting expert in the handling of multi-hull vessels of all sorts.
‘She was properly crewed for the type of voyage she was undertaking upon the day in question. What the Captain referred to as a “testing run” or the Chief Engineer called a “shakedown”.
‘We established that a dangerous storm arrived in the Western Approaches with unexpected dispatch, catching many vessels large and small by surprise and over-stretching the resources of the coastguards and the Royal National Lifeboat Institution. And we established that under these circumstances Lionheart, very reasonably, abandoned her testing run and ran for safe haven.
‘We saw, however, that it was at this point that a distress call from the sail-training vessel Goodman Richard was received - whose circumstances we know, and the inquiry into whose loss has yet to be called.
‘Under the circumstances appertaining on the afternoon in question, however, it does not seem unreasonable that the commander of such a vessel as Lionheart should attempt some kind of rescue. (The traditions of the sea, in fact, require it even if the law does not, in so many words.) Nor that, given the damage occasioned to Lionheart in the completion of that rescue, her commander should take all reasonable steps to ensure the safety of his own command, her crew and those he had successfully rescued.
‘What we must seek to establish today, therefore, is whether there is any obvious failure of commission or of omission by the men and women in command of this vessel at the time. Whether the steps that were taken were in fact reasonable, given the damage occasioned to the hull of the Lionheart and the municipal works upon which it came to rest - to wit, the beach between Penzance and Newlyn. Whether the actions thus taken were reasonable under the circumstances or whether they might in fact have occasioned further and unnecessary danger or injury to the individuals so recently taken aboard. Many more of whom, I observe, are in the room as summonsed today. Whether, in fact, the actions of those in command of Lionheart at the time in question contravened any current legislation under the Health and Safety at Work Act and more recent ancillary legislation. Whether the damage to the hull occasioned in that very rescue was reasonable and inevitable - or whether it too could have been foreseen and avoided with no significant further danger to life. Who, in fact, was actually in command of Lionheart at these crucial points in the incident. And where any criminal responsibility might lie, should criminal responsibility be found and proven.
‘But, before we proceed to that, may I satisfy myself that all the witnesses summonsed have arrived today? Even those so notably absent yesterday? Mr Clerk? Your list of those present before us?’
The Clerk to the Inquiry stood up and said, ‘All present according to my list, My Lord.’
‘Very well.’ There was a moment’s silence as Cross looked almost lazily around the chamber. ‘Mr Snipe. I believe you will wish to open today’s proceedings for the Department.’
The representative of the Marine Accident Investigation Branch of the Department of the Environment, responsible for the oversight of health and safety matters under such circumstances, rose weightily. ‘I do indeed, My Lord,’ he said, automatically reaching for the folds of his gown before remembering he was not wearing one. ‘I would like to call, as first witness to these events, Michael O’Malley Weary.’
A stir ran round that section of the room who knew who - and where - Doc Weary was. But on Snipe’s call, the door through which Cross himself had entered opened again and a computer monitor was wheeled out into the room. Its screen flared into life and Doc’s face stared out of the machine. ‘We have been fortunate in arranging this live video-link through the good offices of our colleagues in Sydney, Australia,’ said Snipe. ‘Mr Weary, as you are, I believe, fully aware, this is a Court of Inquiry. It is not a criminal proceeding but it is governed by the rules of perjury. You have taken the oath, have you not?’
‘Yup,’ said Doc, after an instant. The instant it took the light-beam of communication to get there and back. It made him seem a little hesitant. Almost calculating.
‘Very well. We have also taken the opportunity, as you know, My Lord, of formally establishing identity and domicile so that we may proceed with examination with all dispatch, though under your control, of course. Now, Mr Weary, my name is Snipe and I have some questions for you. Then others of my colleagues may have further questions. As may My Lord himself. They will introduce themselves as My Lord switches from one Webcam to another. Do you understand?’
‘Seems simple enough.’
‘Quite so. Now. You were on the command bridge of the Lionheart at the moment she ran on to the beach at Newlyn?’
‘That’s right.’
‘Were you in a position to see what speed Lionheart was doing?’
‘Yes. She was going at about twenty knots when we struck.’
‘In your seafaring experience, and as an accepted expert on multi-hulled vessels and their behaviour, is this a considerable speed for such an incident?’
‘It’s a fair speed to be doing anything at. But Captain Mariner had brought the speed down from nearly three times that as she completed the final turn and approached the beach.’
‘Captain Mariner. Not Captain Bartlett?’
‘No. Tom was injured. He was there but he wasn’t in control.’
‘Let me get this quite clear, please, for it confirms a point raised in evidence yesterday. Captain Bartlett was on the bridge but Captain Robin Mariner was in command because Captain Bartlett was hurt?’
‘That’s about the size of it.’ Doc’s great gold-maned head nodded.
‘And Captain Richard Mariner?’
‘He was there but he was hurt as well...’
Step by step, first Snipe and then the others led Doc back through the events of the afternoon and evening. Everything that could be checked was examined relentlessly through the withering clarity of 20/20 hindsight wielded by men whose experience of the realities of such danger came from the reports of precedent cases.
Was Captain Mariner competent to control such a vessel - particularly under such circumstances? Couldn’t a truly competent captain have brought Lionheart to a perfect standstill resting on the sand - allowing disembarkation with no damage? Was the damage to the beach - in his expert opinion - strictly necessary? The damage to the hulls?
Wouldn’t it have been feasible, in fact, to choose some other port of des
tination? Could he, as expert witness and Fastnet Race skipper, suggest anywhere? Some less dramatic mode of arrival? Was he aware of the potential for whiplash injuries in such a peculiar method of coming ashore? Had he himself seen any crew or recently rescued passengers hurt in any way? Had he been below at any time during the voyage in from Wolf Rock? Was he aware that several people had slipped over and sustained some injuries during the wild - some might say reckless - changes of course during the run in?
In his opinion was the speed with which that section of the voyage had been taken wise, under the circumstances? Was this speed something that Captain Bartlett had ordered? Captain Richard Mariner? Had he advised it himself, as the expert, under the circumstances?
What part had he played in the removal of the cadets and crew on to Lionheart? In his opinion, could a multi-hulled vessel such as Lionheart have been better positioned in relation to the wrecked vessel to effect the rescue? No? Then could such a uniquely configured vessel have been better positioned to limit damage to her own hull? No?
And what exactly was his relationship with the Captains Mariner and Heritage Mariner itself? For how long had he been their friend? For how long had he been their employee? Did he wish to reconsider any of his answers - bearing in mind that relationship and balancing it against the fact that he was on oath?
Five minutes after Justice Cross had ended the video link and Doc’s computer image had been wheeled out of the room, Robin was in the witness stand. Identified, recognized by the inquiry and duly sworn in. Snipe, once again, went first.
‘Captain Mariner, can you explain what experience you have had in actually ... ah ... driving, for lack of a better word, SuperCats?’
Robin explained how she and Richard had both been trained and retrained as the vessels became more modern. Would the court like to see her current certification?
‘No, thank you, Captain. I believe the inquiry can accept that both yourself and Captain Mariner are fully qualified. Let us pass then on to why you took over the ... ah ... driving seat...’
‘The helm, Mr Snipe,’ she corrected gently.
‘Indeed, Captain. Why you took over the helm when you did.’
‘During the early part of the voyage Doc had been in the First Officer’s seat on the Captain’s right. When we went in to attempt the actual rescue, Doc went with Richard and left that seat vacant. I sat in it because I could strap in more securely and see what was going on. But Tom - Captain Bartlett - remained in control of the helm. He took Lionheart in for the rescue itself and held her there on heading 262, if memory serves, during the transfer. He remained in control until everything had been done and we left Goodman Richard to come round 108 degrees and head due east to run on back to land. It was not until Lionheart began to behave unusually that he took Doc and Richard to see what was up. I took control then, but as far as I was concerned Tom was still in command and I was following his orders.’
‘And when did that situation change?’
‘When Doc returned with the news that we were flooding below, and that Tom and Richard had both been injured. I then saw it as my responsibility to get Lionheart back to safety as swiftly as possible.’
‘But there was a problem with that, Captain Bartlett has explained. Can you fill us in on what that was?’
Robin, tersely, did so.
‘I see. So you sought to balance the speed of your progress towards safety with the rapidity with which such speed would make the flooding in the decks below worse?’
‘Those were the horns of my dilemma, yes.’
‘And Captain Richard Mariner and Mr Weary were soon both well enough recovered to support and advise?’
‘Yes. Just about. Though they were both utterly exhausted and in my opinion suffering from exposure. I would not have relied upon them over my own thoughts and experience, under the circumstances. In fact I needed neither support nor advice. Even from an expert such as Mr Weary.’
‘And Captain Bartlett?’
‘Again, returned to the bridge - at my request - but by no means fit enough to take full control. We discussed matters but the command decisions had passed to me. I recorded the time precisely when we made up the logs later.’
‘Made up the logs?’
‘The machine records, black box and computer files are contemporaneous. Like the record being made of this inquiry. The human bit has to be written up as soon as practically possible. Like the notebooks of a police officer after an arrest. The time lapse does not call their authenticity or accuracy into question.’
‘Indeed. And your command decision was...?’
‘To head for Newlyn Bay as fast as we could.’
‘Why?’
‘If we weren’t careful we would sink in deep water and on a night like that we would all die. Speed was of the essence therefore, though it brought with it the problems of flooding and handling to which you have referred.’
‘I see. Why Newlyn?’
‘All the nearest land was cliff-bound. The bays on the western coasts are narrow, steep sided, rocky, lacking in beaches and open to westerly weather. Newlyn and Penzance are sheltered, with a gently shelving beach. I calculated that if I could get into Mount’s Bay I could run Lionheart safely aground with a minimum of damage to all concerned.’
‘I see. Well I believe that satisfies the Department for the moment. Perhaps my colleagues...’
And so Robin stood for another half an hour answering and re-answering questions. No, she could not have put Lionheart in any other bay. No, nor on any other beach. No indeed; nor on any other part of the beach. No, she could not have risked approaching the beach more slowly. No, she had no idea there was a rock shelf beneath the sand. No, she had neither the time nor the inclination to calculate the rock damage to the hulls - she had been too preoccupied with ensuring that the hulls stayed above the water. No, she had not personally assured herself that everyone was strapped in safely before she had come back to speed. No, she had not broadcast a warning before making a sharp turn off Mousehole. Yes, she had likewise failed to signal to those below that she proposed to make a sharp turn in the midst of Mount’s Bay. But finally, yes, she had of course warned everyone aboard of the impending impact with the beach at Newlyn and advised them what action they should take to keep themselves from further harm. Like her husband and co-Director of Heritage Mariner, she had been fully briefed on the new health and safety rules as well as on all the recent Corporate Murder legislation.
This final answer seemed to take the wind even from the sharp young London silk’s sails. And into the silence, the mellifluous tones of His Lordship proposed, ‘Let us rise for the short adjournment there. And this afternoon we shall hear the evidence of Captain Richard Mariner...’
Chapter 14: Arrest
‘That seemed to go pretty well. You were fantastic, darling.’ Richard passed Robin her keys to the Bentley as though they were a prize. ‘What did you think, Andrew? Pass the vinegar, would you?’
They were in a fish restaurant down by the seafront and Richard had a sizeable plate of cod and chips in front of him. Robin and Andrew seemed less hungry. They were contenting themselves with tea and toast, both a great deal less ebulliently confident than Richard.
‘No,’ temporized Andrew in reply to his main question. ‘There was nothing obviously amiss. Nothing you could put your finger on. But even so...’ He frowned and shrugged. Vinegar slopped over his hand.
‘No sign of a trap at least.’ Richard sprinkled the condiment as he talked, then filled his fork and tucked in heartily.
‘That’s the point of a trap, darling,’ said Robin, slipping the keys into her handbag, but speaking as though explaining something to a wilfully obtuse child. ‘You’re not supposed to see it. Until you’re caught in it.’
‘But what have they proved?’ asked Richard. He put down his knife and began to count off his answers by holding up his fingers, continuing to demolish the fish and chips left-handed. ‘That Lionheart was in the right place, u
nder the right circumstances, doing the right thing. That the storm was unexpectedly powerful and swift-moving, so that there were many vessels large and small at risk. That the coastguards and the RNLI needed a hand and Lionheart gave them one. That she was under appropriate command and control at all times. And even when things got hairier and hairier step by step between Wolf Rock and Newlyn prom, we all - and especially you, darling - took exactly the correct action. Even under the new H and S rules and the Corporate Killing legislation. Though why that should be relevant God alone knows: you kept everyone perfectly well alive.’
‘No one could have died since, could they?’ demanded Robin suddenly, her cup halfway to her mouth. ‘Some cadet with a weak heart or crewmember with an unsuspected ailment? So that they’re turning round now and saying it was our fault we didn’t take better care of them once Richard had pulled them safely off Goodman Richard herself?’
‘No,’ said Andrew, shaking his red head decisively. ‘We’d have heard. At the very least it would have been in all the papers. And in any case, they can’t just spring a charge like that out of the blue. There’s such a thing as Full and Proper Disclosure, for God’s sake.’
‘There you are then,’ said Richard, who had reclaimed his knife during the exchange. ‘I’ll fill in any blanks they ask about this afternoon and we’ll have a celebration dinner in the Lookout tonight. Then you and I will take the Bentley round the county for the rest of the week, Robin. I want you two to get to know each other. Can you reach the salt, Andrew? You know, this is the best fish I’ve tasted in years! You really should have tried some...’
‘Now, Captain Mariner, we have it in your wife’s evidence that she assumed command when Captain Bartlett was injured. And the logs were made up to that effect as soon as was reasonably practical.’ Snipe was fiddling with his invisible robes again. ‘And indeed, we have the logs themselves.’
‘That is correct, Mr Snipe.’ Richard took the front of the witness box, rising and falling slightly on the balls of his feet as he talked.