by Antony Trew
‘There is always an eraser on the chart-table.’
‘Were you surprised to find him there – in his watch below?’
‘Yes. To be perfectly frank, I was astonished.’
‘And you never saw that chart or the missing pages of the logbooks and the course-recorder trace again?’
Goodbody was on his feet. ‘Objection, Your Worship. My Learned Friend is leading the witness.’
‘You must not lead the witness, Mr Ohlsson.’ The Chairman frowned.
‘I’m sorry, Your Worship. An oversight.’ He turned back to Jarrett. ‘Did you ever see that chart or the missing pages of the logbooks and the course-recorder trace again?’
‘No. There was no opportunity. The ship struck minutes after that. The Captain came to the bridge, ordered fire stations, and I had to leave the bridge to go to my station.’
‘Leaving the Captain and the second officer there?’
‘That is correct.’
Ohlsson began another question when the Chairman said, ‘Mr Ohlsson, I suggest you deal with events in their chronological order. This switching about confuses the court. No doubt you will have an opportunity in due course to bring the defendant to what happened after the stranding.’
Ohlsson’s sharp nose swung from his client to the Chairman. ‘I am sorry, Your Worship, I wanted to emphasize the extent to which my client is handicapped by the absence of those documents.’ He sighed audibly before looking again at Jarrett. ‘You were about to tell the court what happened after you had taken over the watch.’
Jarrett went on to tell of the various alterations of course necessary – first for the big ship ahead then, successively, for the two trawlers on the starboard bow – his account according closely with the evidence of the previous witnesses. He dwelt on the difficulties created by the advent of fog so soon after altering course for the big ship.
Ohlsson again interrupted. ‘When your ship encountered that fog what did you do?’
‘I called the standby man, Cavalho, and put him on bridge lookout. Then I phoned the engineroom and told the second engineer of the fog and we put the engines to “manoeuvring speed”. That was at 0430. I remember the time because he and I agreed it. Next I tried the auto-switch on the pneumatic siren – the forward one used for fog signals – but there was no response. I phoned Mr Benson at once and asked him to have someone attend to it. He asked me not to use the steam whistle aft because it would disturb those sleeping. I told him I would not. I reported the fog to the Captain by telephone. Told him of the steps I had taken and mentioned the trouble with the siren. He agreed with the decision not to use the steam whistle. He then asked me about traffic in the vicinity and the state of the weather generally, and I gave him the necessary information.’
‘Was that the end of the conversation?’
Jarrett frowned, his expression a mixture of worry and embarrassment. ‘No. The Captain said that he had a bad headache.’ Jarretťs voice dropped. ‘He said he’d taken some painkillers so that he could sleep – and wouldn’t be coming up. He asked me to keep a sharp eye on things and to let him know if I wanted him on the bridge at any time. I said I was sorry to hear of his trouble – that I was sure that a good sleep would help – I told him not to worry – I said we should be out of the fog before the end of the watch.’
Ohlsson’s small eyes darted towards the Chairman and Assessors.
Goodbody passed a slip of paper to Crutchley. He’d scrawled on it: Here it comes.
Ohlsson turned back to Jarrett. ‘Were you surprised the Captain did not come up?’
Jarrett hesitated. ‘Yes. To be frank, I was surprised.’
Ohlsson apologized for the interruption and asked Jarrett to go on with his story.
The chief officer said that no sooner was he ready to alter course back to port to regain the former course line – after altering for the big ship which had now passed safely to port – when radar showed a small vessel on the starboard bow to be a potential hazard. Under the Regulations for Preventing Collisions at Sea, he was required to give way and pass astern of the vessel. To do this he had to alter once more to starboard and, because it was a trawler, make a long detour astern of it. In response to a question by Ohlsson he said he knew from the fog signal that it was a trawler with her gear in the water. During this time Jackson the electrician had arrived on the bridge to check the auto-siren circuit. When the trawler was clear he’d altered back to port, to a course of 258° which would have taken the ship to a position at least five miles off Cape Agulhas. Ocean Mammoth had been on that course for some time – probably about seven minutes – when radar showed another small vessel coming out from the direction of Struys Bay. It was about five miles away on the starboard bow and was not then on a collision course. He’d gone to the chart-room to fix Ocean Mammoth’s position, only to find that the Decca Navigator was not functioning. That was at about 0510. He had immediately phoned the radio officer and asked him to come up and attend to it. Jarrett said he’d then gone to the wheelhouse and again checked by radar on the small vessel on the starboard bow. It had been steering a south-easterly course when first detected, but now it had begun to alter round to the south-west. This put it on a collision course. Once again he had given way by altering to starboard to pass astern of it. Worried about the ship’s position now that it could no longer be fixed by Decca Navigator, he had taken a DF bearing on the radio beacon at Cape Agulhas and at the same time obtained readings of 34/36 fathoms from the echo-sounder. From this data he estimated the ship to be in a position just over seven miles south-east of the lighthouse. He had plotted that position on the chart and written the time of observation – 0515 – against it. It confirmed his impression that he had ample searoom in spite of the alterations of course he’d been obliged to make.
In due course the second trawler had passed ahead of Ocean Mammoth – at about twenty minutes or so past five, he thought – and he’d ordered port wheel to bring the ship back to the southeast once more – that was towards its former course line. He went to the radar to check the DF position he’d obtained at 0515 and found that both radar displays were dead. The radio operator was then in the chartroom working on the Decca Navigator, and he told him to leave it and attend to the radar which was the more urgent priority. Feeny had then begun to check out the radar circuits.
Not long after that he’d gone to the chartroom and found Foley there. Feeny had by then gone down to fetch a technical manual. Jarrett said his altercation with Foley had followed and soon afterwards the ship struck.
‘When you took over the bridge at 0400, what course did the second officer hand over to you?’ asked Ohlsson.
‘Two-six-seven degrees.’
‘What figures were pencilled against the course line on the chart when you took over?’
‘Two-six-seven degrees.’
‘And the figures on the course-to-steer indicator?’
‘Two-six-seven degrees.’
‘Had you known that the course on the chart was in fact two-five-seven degrees when you took over, would it have made any difference to your judgement during the next hour and a half?’
‘A great deal. We were making good twelve/thirteen knots. A ten-degree error in course over an hour and a half’s steaming at that speed would have put the ship three and a half to four miles closer inshore, even if there’d been no changes of course. As it was with the various alterations to starboard and the current setting inshore, the error was magnified and in the end disastrous.’
‘Do you consider that the error of ten degrees was responsible for the loss of this great ship and the lives of some of its crewmen?’
Jarrett nodded slowly. ‘Basically, yes. Of course failure of the electronic navigation aids at a critical juncture was a contributory factor – but only contributory. Had the correct course been given me, even their failure would not have been disastrous because we would have had considerably more searoom. At least several miles more.’
It was 12.45
p.m. and the Chairman adjourned the enquiry.
Captain Crutchley felt that those present that morning were likely to have left the courtroom feeling that Jarrett had acquitted himself well. His lucid, unfaltering account of events during the early hours of 29 October left the impression that he had been confronted with an incredibly difficult situation: the fog, Foley’s error in handing over the course, the absence of the Captain from the bridge, the three ships – hidden by fog – for which he had to take avoiding action, the failure of electronic systems at a critical juncture, and Foley’s mysterious presence in the chart-room shortly before the ship struck – all this compressed into an hour and a half.
Crutchley was sure that Jarrett had won the sympathy of the court. He was almost sure that the chief officer’s story of the telephone conversation was a fabrication. Yet there was still that nagging doubt – could Grundewald’s capsules have obliterated the recollection? Foley had denied handing over a course of 267° and yet when Crutchley had looked at the chart and deck logbook shortly after the stranding he’d seen the figures 267° in Foley’s neat hand against the course line. He’d also seen the 0515 position on the chart – the position which Jarrett said he’d obtained by means of a DF bearing of the Agulhas radio beacon and echo soundings. Much of Jarrett’s evidence had been corroborated in advance by Fernandez, Cavalho and the other witnesses.
So was the man lying about the telephone conversation or was he giving an honest account of what had happened? Of course Jarrett had been negligent. To a seaman, that stood out a mile. Long before the Decca Navigator or the radar units had failed he could have fixed the ship’s position; indeed, with radar right up to within ten minutes of the ship’s stranding. Why then had he not done so? With this in mind Crutchley had passed a note to Goodbody suggesting the chief officer be questioned on the point. Goodbody had read it, nodded understandingly and put it in his pocket.
Crutchley had hoped he would be discussing the morning’s proceedings with Goodbody over lunch, but to his dismay the barrister said he had to discuss certain matters with Lourens in the recess and would not be lunching at the Palace Hotel. He’d added, ‘But don’t worry, my dear Captain. Things are not going at all badly. Indeed, it may not be necessary to call you as a witness.’
Chapter 29
When the enquiry resumed on the afternoon of the third day, the Chairman informed the court that during the luncheon recess he had had a discussion with the Assessors. Since the evidence of the chief officer dealt with a number of complex aspects of ship handling and navigation, he felt it would help the enquiry if the Assessors – both master mariners of long experience – were without further delay to put certain questions of a technical nature. He had discussed the matter with the counsel concerned and they had agreed.
Jarrett then returned to the witness box.
Captain Wedderburn, a solemn cadaverous man with iron grey hair, put on spectacles, cleared his throat and looked at the chief officer. ‘When you took over the watch at four o’clock on 29 October, did you check the course on the chart to see if it agreed with the course of two-six-seven degrees you allege was handed over to you by the second officer?’ Wedderburn’s manner was polite but unsmiling, his voice deep and abrasive.
‘No. I did not.’
‘Would it not have been a wise precaution?’
Jarrett thought about that for a moment. ‘Yes. With hindsight I suppose it would. But the second officer is an extra-master. I had no reason to suppose the figures he’d written against the course line were ten degrees in error. As a pencil line on a chart, a course of two-five-seven looks much the same as two-six-seven. He’d given me two-six-seven verbally, the ship’s head was on two-six-seven, and those were the figures on the course-indicator.’
‘But you did not check the charted course?’
‘No, sir.’
Captain Wedderburn looked surprised, put on his spectacles and consulted his notes.
‘There have been a number of references in evidence to the TM and AC radar sets in Ocean Mammoth’s wheelhouse. Will you explain to the court the difference between them?’
Crutchley could see from the half smile on Jarrett’s face that he liked the question. The chief officer was not a modest man. Here was an opportunity to show off his knowledge to an important audience.
‘The TM set – that is True Motion radar – is intended primarily for coastal navigation. The AC set – Anti-Collision radar – for anti-collision work. The AC unit can in fact do the work of both since it is basically a TM radar, but its markers provide the relative motion reference essential for collision avoidance, thus giving both true and relative motion on the same display. This is very important for collision avoidance in close quarter situations. For this reason many deck officers prefer to use AC radar under most conditions.’
‘In that case is there any advantage in having both sets? Why not just have AC radar?’
‘Ah. It’s not quite as simple as that.’ Jarrett’s smile was condescending. ‘There are real advantages in having both. In close waters – the Straits of Dover for example, where there is a lot of traffic and very little searoom – both sets can be manned at the same time.’
He must have sensed a trap then, for he quickly added, ‘If there are enough people on the bridge, that is.’ He looked for a moment towards Captain Crutchley whose dark glasses were trained on the witness box.
Wedderburn nodded. ‘Of course. Any other advantages?’
‘When necessary,’ went on Jarrett, rather more slowly now, as if weighing each word, ‘one display can be used for checking the other. There’s also an inter-switching device that makes it possible to use alternative wavelengths on either display. This is important. It makes possible improved detection in difficult weather and sea conditions and reduces interference from other ships.’ He paused. ‘Is that sufficient, sir, or do you want me to go further into the technicalities?’
‘No. That will do very well, thank you.’ Captain Wedderburn again looked at his notes. ‘Could you not have checked the ship’s position by radar once you could no longer use the Decca Navigator?’
‘There just wasn’t time for that.’
The Assessor adjusted his spectacles with bony fingers. ‘I see in his sworn statement that the radio officer records that you reported the Decca Navigator failure at about ten minutes past five, and you told him of the radar trouble about fifteen minutes later? Was there no opportunity in those fifteen minutes to use radar or fixing the ship’s position?’
‘A lot was happening in those fifteen minutes. Fd already got a position by DF bearing and soundings at five-fifteen. We were taking avoiding action for the second trawler. I had Feeny on the bridge discussing the Decca Navigator problem with me. I was checking on the lookout and his reports, then going back to the wheelhouse to consult the radar displays and give wheel orders. After that came the radar failures and I had to discuss them with Feeny.’
‘You have mentioned the five-fifteen position you obtained by combining a DF bearing with echo soundings; a position which you admitted in your statement to the preliminary enquiry may have been two miles south of the ship’s actual position. Do you agree that a DF bearing combined with soundings is by no means a reliable way of fixing a ship’s position?’
‘I only resorted to it after the Decca Navigator had failed.’
‘But you still had radar at that time?’
‘I was fully employed using it to avoid a collision. It was dark, we were in dense fog. A close quarters situation had developed. It was necessary to keep the trawler under continuous radar observation if a collision was to be avoided. The trawler was changing course all the time – the situation was changing all the time.’
‘How far off the land – that is Cape Agulhas – were you when you passed astern of the second trawler?’
‘Without the chart and course-recorder trace to check on, it is very difficult for me to answer that question.’
‘The ship ran aground at five
-thirty-nine. That time is not in dispute. You have told the court she was steaming at twelve/thirteen knots. You passed astern of the trawler at about five-thirty, give or take a few minutes. At say, five-twenty, the land must have been within nineteen minutes’ steaming distance at twelve knots. That is about four miles. Would not the land have shown up on your AC radar display – particularly on the six-mile range scale?’
‘Not necessarily under those conditions. Thick fog. Moisture-saturated atmosphere.’
‘My experience is that radar is good in fog.’
‘Not always,’ said Jarrett stubbornly.
‘I believe that your radar had a range of up to sixty-four miles. Is that correct?’
‘Yes. But I was operating it on the six-mile range.’
‘Why only six miles?’
‘It is the normal range for operating AC radar in a white knuckle situation.’
‘What do you mean by a “white knuckle situation”?’
‘A critical situation. When your ship and the target ship are on converging courses in the decisive four-to-six mile zone. Things are happening very quickly. Unexpected manoeuvring by the other ship, for example. It requires intense concentration to maintain safe control in fog under those conditions.’
‘Could you not have switched on the TM set and consulted that display from time to time? I understand the two sets were mounted side by side in the wheelhouse?’
Jarrett shrugged his shoulders, spread his hands in a gesture of helplessness. ‘Now – with all the facts before the court – with any amount of time in which to consider them, sitting in the security of this courtroom in bright daylight, it is not difficult to suggest what might have been done. But I had no such advantages. It was dark. The ship was in dense fog. I was totally occupied in dealing with three different collision-avoidance situations in the space of an hour. Due to the course error I inherited, I had much less searoom than I had been led to believe. I had no means of anticipating the failures of electronic equipment which occurred. Yes – of course it’s easy to see now what I should have done. But I can assure you, sir, it was not easy under those conditions.’