Furthermore the Russians are presently using the sheltered waters of South Georgia for fish factory ship operation. I suggest that it is less likely that these countries will take the law into their own hands in either the remaining South Sandwich Islands, or South Georgia if they are regularly patrolled by the ‘poorly armed’ Endurance.
The British Antarctic Survey place great reliance on the presence of Endurance. Much of their geological work during last season was carried out by Endurance, not to mention the tow by Endurance to one of the BAS ships from Port Stanley to Montevideo which saved a large sum of money. I do not imply that BAS needs military protection but it does need support, and generally gets support when Endurance is carrying out marine surveys in an adjacent area.
The exploration of Antarctica has been a joint effort between scientists and the Royal Navy for many years and when some of this exploration is coming to fruition it would seem to be very unwise to give it up.
One further point has arisen since I last wrote to you. There is the possibility of a South Atlantic Treaty Organization: I am aware that the USA is interested in such a project and it would seem that we ought to keep a membership card in this area and in any projected treaty.
I have stated that the Royal Marines in the Falklands need to be complemented by a Naval ship equipped with radar, aircraft, and good communications, if they are to fulfil their role efficiently. To say that Endurance spends no more than 21 days in the Falklands is hardly relevant. I would suggest that she is within four days’ steaming from the Falklands at any stage of the South Atlantic Season. She does not operate in the area for five months a year because the ice edges too far north, and, furthermore the British Antarctic Survey also operate on a seasonal basis.
I have spelt out many of the assets provided by Endurance. Once again I do ask you to consider a stay of execution for the season following 1981 so that the whole situation can be considered in detail and with full consultation between Government departments.
I am told that the only way to save the ship is to canvass other Cabinet Ministers and Secretaries of State. I can therefore only suggest that Foreign Affairs, Trade and Industry, and Energy are the only people left to lobby.
I am continuing the fight and would appreciate a very low profile on the personal front. Thank you once again.
Yours sincerely,
Nick Barker
During the course of this correspondence another possible route to the Prime Minister, through her greatly respected PPS, Ian Gow, was attempted. Aubrey Buxton invited him, and his wife Jane, to dinner at his London flat. Ian Gow was kind enough to give me a few minutes to state my case. We could only hope that he would take the matter up with the Prime Minister. He wrote to me the next day:
Jane and I very much enjoyed meeting you last evening and I valued our talk. Here is just a line to say I’ve written to John Nott, giving him your address. I’m not sure whether protocol would permit him to see you, but I hope that it will. In any event the ball is now in his court.
Yours sincerely,
Ian Gow
I believe his intention was honourable, but he probably already knew that it was highly unlikely that John Nott would wish to see me.
I knew there was nothing more I could do directly, and there was now a real danger of my personal influence being misinterpreted. It would now be up to distinguished peers and MPs to make whatever case they might out of the information provided by Lords Buxton and Shackleton.
Two MPs in particular, Michael Shersby (Conservative) and Eric Ogden (Labour, later SDP) had taken a special interest in the Falklands. They were about to go on a fact-finding mission to the area and let it be known they would welcome an invitation to lunch on board Endurance. This created a particular difficulty. Of course I could not just invite two MPs on board without clearing it first. Equally, these MPs had decided that I was the person to brief them and I could hardly prevent them travelling to Chatham. Despite my early application on their behalf when Admiral George Brewer finally became aware of their plans, he made it clear they must not be invited on board for lunch.
‘I understand the position,’ I told him, ‘but they’re arriving at Chatham station at 12.15. Do you want me to put them on the next train back to London?’
‘I wish to Christ I’d known about this earlier.’
I explained that I had informed him of my dilemma, but obviously a bureaucratic cock-up had prevented the letter reaching him on time.
They came to lunch and we found we had an immediate rapport. Their interest in the islands was already considerable. Later they were to become members of the South West Atlantic Group, and we have been in regular contact ever since. Nothing ‘sensitive’, however, was discussed at that meeting.
On 17 September I also had a letter from Dr John Heap in the Foreign Office:
Dear Nick,
Just a line to thank you very much indeed for lunch in Endurance last week.
It was sad for me to think of such a fine ship coming towards the end of her days. I hope I am wrong for there seems so little straw about for making the necessary bricks.
It must be particularly sad for you. No commanding officer has made more of his command of Endurance than you have, and there is irony in the likelihood that you should have the ship’s last days in your hands. I have much admired the fight you have put up. Nobody could have done more.
All the very best in the South this year. My warmest thanks for all your interest and help with our Southern problems.
Yours ever,
John
Following the announcement of the scrapping of Endurance I also received many similarly unsolicited offers of support. These included letters from a number of important media influences, not least the Pebble Mill production team who had already decided that their series about Argentina, the Falklands and the Antarctic were to be shown again. I was asked if there was anything else they could do. Anglia TV, presumably encouraged by Lord Buxton, were also keen to do something. David Attenborough’s producer, Ned Kelly, wrote to say that John Nott must be out of his mind. Even in my most altruistic mood I may have had difficulty in disagreeing with that.
Chapter 6
BACK SOUTH
At the end of August, 1981, 1 had one further opportunity to call on the First Sea Lord, Sir Henry Leach. I knew that whatever I asked he would try to achieve, but because of John Nott’s proposals for the Navy he had a much larger problem. He pointed out that it was not the business of Armed Forces to decide how much money should be spent on national defence. That was a political matter to be determined by the Cabinet of the day. The heads of the three services would advise the Secretary of State for Defence on what the effects of the budget would be on the nation’s defence capability.
For the Navy the cuts were twice as great as those affecting the Army and seven times greater than those to be imposed on the Royal Air Force. Additionally it had been decided that virtually the entire cost of the new strategic nuclear deterrent, Trident, would be financed from the Naval budget.
Admiral Leach told me that he would have been happy to see Endurance continuing her usual rôle, particularly as her running costs were so low. He also explained that the reason why the Navy was to take the lion’s share of the cuts was because, according to the Secretary of State, they had expanded their programme beyond all proportion to the sums of money available to sustain it. This, John Nott believed, had been largely a matter of tactics in an attempt to acquire a larger slice of the budget. That may well have been true. Once something was agreed and fixed within the programme it was a political embarrassment to take it out. In John Nott’s view, therefore, the Royal Navy was treated as fairly as the other services.
But it was also clear that the relationship between the First Sea Lord and John Nott was now so strained that any insistence could well have led to losing some other, perhaps more valuable, asset. The Admiral was his usual courteous self, but he admitted there was little or no hope for Endurance.
>
But there were a few shots left in the locker. One was a letter to The Times signed by many interested parties, all of whom became founder members of SWAG – the South West Atlantic Group. Among them was the producer of ‘Langley South’. An extra programme had been devised to update the original five. Bob Langley, the presenter, approached Lord Shackleton to ask him to take part in this, a special television debate. He not only agreed to appear he also decided to use his political experience and personal prestige to back the Pebble Mill campaign.
The Endurance was now in the final stages of refit. Indeed the Chatham dockyard had been so efficient that it was possible to bring forward the completion date. We sailed for sea trials on 7 September. After a successful week of trials the ship spent a weekend in Sunderland. This repeated the precedent begun the previous year: the red and white ship re-established links with the red and white football club, and renewed acquaintances with local friends and dignitaries.
During the refit a hall porter in the Chatham Barracks had been particularly good to us. He was Bob Scott, a former CPO and renowned Geordie. I took him as a VIP to Sunderland and gave him the Governor’s Cabin. When we arrived at Sunderland he noted that we had no flowers for the cocktail party and were obviously poorly equipped as we did not have a greenhouse on board. I suggested he could make up for this Admiralty oversight by collecting some flowers from the town. He returned with armfuls,
I said, ‘That’s a bit over the top, Bob. Where did you get them?’
‘I’ve been round every cemetery in Sunderland,’ he said.
Of course he hadn’t, but the gesture was hugely appreciated. During the Conflict I received a large scroll from him. It honoured me as ‘President of the Flower Nickers Association, Sunderland Branch’. It has been a treasured possession ever since.
After the initial trials there was a short period of defect rectification and the ship sailed on 21 September for a trip down the river, taking many of those who had worked on the ship for a day at sea. Then it was Portsmouth for stores and ammunition and on to Portland for a work-up where the ship was yet again thoroughly checked out by the staff of Flag Officer Sea Training. A busy exercise period followed with an emphasis on flight deck operations, fire fighting and damage control. Finally we returned to Portsmouth for a short period before sailing to the South Atlantic on 13 October.
Sailing from your home port for a longish period away – in this case it was planned that we would not return until May – is always quite a traumatic event. There were girlfriends, wives and families there to see us off. Their faces captured the rainbow of emotions felt by many of us on board. They then moved from the jetty to Sallyport, a bastion at the harbour entrance. This is as close as families can get to the ship as she slides out of the harbour into Spithead. The last thing we saw was the waving arms growing smaller and smaller before disappearing into the dark background.
We called at Gibraltar and embarked our boss, Flag Officer of the Third Flotilla, the much loved Vice Admiral Sir John Cox. When we arrived at Madeira we prepared for the farewell to Admiral Cox at the customary ship’s cocktail party.
There was a married woman on the island who managed to invite herself to the party. We had been warned that her passion for Naval Officers was incremental to their rank. She also had friends in Funchal and later the same evening we all ended up at a rather splendid residence for more drinks. We noticed that the Admiral and the lady were engrossed in deep conversation on a sofa. One by one we quietly slid out leaving them to it. We retreated to my cabin for a nightcap. Half an hour later the Admiral entered. We could tell by the doubts he expressed on subjects such as our parentage and sexual predilections that we had stitched him up rather well. His escape from the good wife of Kent had exercised his resourcefulness to the limit. But, by morning our crimes had been forgotten. He departed after wishing us all the very best of fortune for the season ahead.
We arrived in Rio on 9 November. It was a week packed with pomp, social and sporting events. Indeed the ship’s company were royally entertained by the British and Anglo-Brazilian communities. We also re-established links with the Brazilian Navy, particularly the Hydrographic Service. There I shared some important conversation with the excellent Ambassador, Mr Harding. The contrast between our missions Rio and Buenos Aires was most marked. The service personnel in Brazil were thoroughly on-the-ball and untiringly efficient. Mr Harding was a true expert on South America and it was most refreshing to hear his views.
There was a kind of hidden agenda. If, as seemed likely, the Endurance was sold, Brazil might be one of the few countries who may wish to buy her. At least there was every chance she would be employed in much the same way; there was even the possibility of a lease-back arrangement if a changing situation warranted it. It was clutching at straws, but even the remotest possibility that our work could continue was worth considering. With all this in mind, some weeks later I wrote to my boss:
The Ambassador, Mr Harding, has been in his present post for less than a year. Before that he was the Superintending Under-Secretary for the South American Department in Whitehall. It follows therefore that the Falklands debate, and indeed some of the Antarctic problems, were well known to him.
I outlined the case for a British presence in the Antarctic, talked about the potential, and also about the political, scientific, and military activities of other interested nations. He asked my views about the Falklands and we found much common ground. He is a most impressive diplomat with an authoritative ambience about him, a quick and incisive mind, and few qualms about asking Brazilians direct questions. He said that whether the British liked it or not the Brazilians had insufficient oil and they intended to be part of the Antarctic bonanza.
However, they need to look at the area in more detail. They need careful guidance to select a base and support before becoming full members of the Treaty; hence their need for Endurance. We took our party line into any discussions with the Brazilians. The sale of the ship was not a matter for Diplomats or Naval Officers. Our Governments would talk about the matter when the time came. However, the Brazilians did express a deep interest; we apologized for not being able to take some of them to the Antarctic this season.
It is believed that if we do not influence the Brazilians over the Antarctic, someone else will. This could be another lever towards keeping the ship going next year.
The Ambassador, together with his Naval Attaché, Captain Anthony Wheatley, put a brief together. The Ambassador was going to London the following week. It had become clear that if we could take Brazilians to the Antarctic periodically (over the next few years) we could exert the kind of influence that could set up their aspirations and could provide a counter to the Argentines. It could even become a peripheral consideration in the Falklands debate.
The more we talked through the problem the more attractive the proposition became. We agreed on all the significant details. I have since learnt from Anthony Williams that Mr Harding’s brief was not greeted with much enthusiasm in London. Perhaps I should have expected this. Acting on Williams’ advice the FCO strongly countered any proposal to sell the Endurance to Brazil. Anthony Williams also argued that if Britain was seen to be actively influencing Brazil over the Antarctic it could be interpreted as an insult to the Argentine.
I later spoke to Anthony Williams at Bahia Bianca and told him I understood the decision not to sell the Endurance to Brazil, but the question of who else might influence Brazil remained. He eventually agreed that Brazil could be a useful ally in exerting pressures on Argentina in the event of the Falklands or Antarctic becoming a more vicious impasse between our Governments. He even said there was merit in this alternative view. Whether or not he does anything about it I cannot say, but it smacks of the usual problem where insufficient homework has been done. However, despite these diplomatic moves we seem to be no further on the question of the future of Endurance. No disposal instructions or drafting indications have yet been received.
I understa
nd that the impact of the television series together with several letters to The Times has been considerable. I gather too that more pressure has been put on Mr Nott to change his mind. But as Admiral Eberle said: éThe pressure would be more effective if it came from within the Navy and from Admiral Reffell in particular who has taken, as far as I can see, a totally passive view throughout.
As that seems unlikely I can only assume there has been no change of plan. No doubt the disposal notice will be posted before long.
We left Rio to take passage south to Montevideo. On the afternoon of our planned arrival the port was closed due to a force nine gale blowing across the entrance. This was potentially very dangerous. The water in the entrance is shallow, approximately 10 metres, with banks of six to seven metres. There was always the fear that strong winds would reduce the depth further and the silting of the banks would cause us to be hard and fast if our line was anything but plumb centre of the channel. The sea was also too rough for the Pilot to come out. The weather forecast was for another three or four days of the same. We asked for four tugs and the best pilot to meet us as we crabbed our way up the entrance channel. This was a true test of seamanship; there were so many things to consider at the same time. But like juggling jelly whilst riding a unicycle it concentrated the mind. I noticed one ship, in the outer harbour, with a heavy list to starboard and apparently aground. This was not a good omen.
As we headed up the inner harbour a pilot did eventually embark. His first comment was: ‘Captain, turn the ship round. No tugs.’
I explained that this was now impossible. Turning round would have meant playing dodgems with the merchant shipping. I ignored him and continued on up the harbour. He became increasingly wild-eyed and wound up as his repeated requests to abandon any attempt to berth were ignored. My plan now was to use the anchor as a brake and let the gale blow me slowly onto the berth. Shortly before we reached position, three tugs arrived and the pilot miraculously regained his cool. We berthed gently alongside without the help of the tugs. It had been an interesting hour. The pilot had been useless and the absence of tugs had done little for morale.
Beyond Endurance: An Epic of Whitehall and the South Atlantic Page 11