Book reviews

Occasional Paper 59: Francis James Ranken

July 6, 2019

July 2019

Early Career

Francis James Ranken was born in 1864 at ‘Saltram’, Eglinton, near Bathurst. He was the eldest son of James Australian Ranken and was educated at All Saints’ College, Bathurst. His grandfather, George Ranken, was one of Bathurst’s earliest settlers, and was granted 2,000 acres at Eglinton in 1822. Francis went to sea at the young age of 14 in a clipper ship, and eventually became an officer in the Orient Line. He joined the Royal Navy Reserve (RNR) as a Sub-Lieutenant in August 1891 and after training resumed service with the Orient Line. He married Menina Blanche Paige (who was born in Maryborough, Queensland in 1863) in London in 1893.

He was serving as Chief Officer in RMS Orient when she sailed from Melbourne for Sydney on 9 January 1897, encountering very rough weather after passing Wilson’s Promontory. On the next afternoon the brig Phyllis was sighted flying distress signals and Orient learnt that the crew were starving. Although a huge sea was running, a boat with Ranken and a crew of six managed to row to the brig and transfer food. The return journey was even more perilous as the wind and sea heightened and the men were finally pulled from the boat onboard the Orient. The boat could not be recovered as the sea was too rough. Whilst in Sydney, Orient’s Captain and boats crew’s efforts were recognised by the National Shipwreck Society and Ranken received a gold medal and a pair of binoculars.

He was promoted to Lieutenant RNR in September 1897 and by 1899 had completed one year’s full-time service in the RN and also completed one of the short courses in Gunnery and Torpedoes available to reserve officers. In November 1899 he was appointed to the first-class cruiser HMS Galatea for his second period of 12 months training, completing this full-time service in the first-class cruiser HMS Royal Arthur, which he joined in February 1900. Royal Arthur was the flagship for the Imperial Squadron in Australia. In April 1900 Royal Arthur escorted the Royal Yacht Ophir carrying the Duke and Duchess of Cornwall and York (the future King George V) to Australia to open the new Federal Parliament in 1901.

In July 1905 he was appointed to the third class protected cruiser HMS Mildura in the Australian Auxiliary Squadron, for a third period of FTS. In May 1906 he was appointed to HMS Torch, an Alert class sloop and tender to the cruiser HMS Pyramus to complete his 12 months training.

At his own request he was placed on the retired list in December 1907 and returned to Australia to undertake poultry farming at Castle Hill, NSW. He had completed three years full-time service in the RN and had completed both short courses available for Reserve officers in Gunnery and Torpedoes.

Ranken’s Contribution to the Introduction of a Minesweeping Capability

The Admiralty wrote to the Naval Board in late 1914 outlining the impact of mining in home waters and suggesting appropriate measures should be taken as it was likely the Germans could mine in bases abroad used by British and allied navies. Despite broad policy directives from Navy Office on establishing a minesweeping capability, little action resulted and discussions dragged on. What was needed was a champion to understand the issues and break the seemingly continuous dialogue between Navy Office and the local naval authorities. That was to come with the recruitment of a 52 year old Master Mariner, Francis Ranken. On 8 February 1916 Ranken joined the RANR (Seagoing) as a Lieutenant Commander (Temporary Service) and was posted to HMAS Penguin before assuming command of HMAS Gayundah in May. Given that he joined for temporary service around the time the Board decided they wanted a reserve minesweeping service, it is suggested he was recruited to oversee and manage the introduction of a minesweeping capability.

Ranken produced a report on minesweeping arrangements for Sydney and the report formed the basis for establishing a minesweeping service in the RAN. By early 1917, matters started to speed up as on 16 February advice had been received that a vessel had sunk off Colombo, believed to be due to mining. It was decided that because of the potential threat to Australian ports, a minesweeping organisation was to be introduced as soon as possible at Sydney, Melbourne and Fremantle. Whilst the Director of Naval Auxiliary Services (DNAS) in Navy Office began staffing the administrative details for the minesweeping organisation, the RN advised the Naval Board by telegram a week later, on 27 February, that a mine had been found and exploded in a sweep off Colombo. At a Board meeting on 28 February 1917, it was formally agreed that minesweeping sections would be set up at Sydney, Melbourne and Fremantle. Suitable vessels would be leased and converted for minesweeping.

On 1 March 1917, Navy Office advised the Prime Minister, Billy Hughes, that a Minesweeping Service was to be established immediately. That day, Ranken was posted to the staff of DNAS to manage the introduction of a minesweeping capability into the RAN. The next day, Cabinet approved the measures proposed. The Section would be a component of the Royal Australian Naval Brigade (RANB), which was administered by DNAS. The RANB was the RAN’s primarily non-seagoing reserve organisation during the First World War. The Brigade provided men for overseas service including the naval component of the Australian Naval and Military Expeditionary Force that occupied Germany’s Pacific territories, and the Naval Bridging Train that operated at Gallipoli and Egypt. The Brigade was also heavily employed at home guarding naval installations, operating harbour patrols, inspection services and boarding parties, and manning lookout and wireless stations.

The organisation for the RANB (Minesweeping Section) would enlist personnel from the trawler industry and other seagoing vessels into the Brigade for temporary service for training and then returned to their normal employment. Whilst DNAS remained responsible for personnel matters, the implementation of the organisation to undertake minesweeping activities in each State was under the supervision of the local Naval Commanders. However, the overall co-ordination of the introduction of this new capability across all States was managed by Ranken working from DNAS. He wasted no time and the recruiting of suitable personnel for the recently announced Minesweeping Section of the RANB commenced in late March 1917.

Minelaying by the German Raider Wolf

The German raider Wolf (formerlly the Hansa freighter Wachtfels) was 5,809 GRT, 135m long, had a speed of some 11kts and a range of over 32,000 nm. She carried seven 150 mm guns, many smaller weapons, four torpedo tubes and at least 497 mines, together with a two seater seaplane. Under the command of Korvettenkapitän (Lieutenant Commander) Karl August Nerger she sailed from Kiel on 30 November 1916, finally returning home on 24 February 1918 with 467 prisoners and substantial valuable seized cargo. She ‘lived off the land’ for a cruise of 64,000 miles, surviving on supplies and coal plundered from captured vessels. In 15 months at sea, Wolf captured 14 ships (sinking twelve) and also laid minefields that sank another 13 ships. Minefields were laid at Cape Town, Cape Agulahas (South Africa), Bombay, Colombo, Australia, New Zealand and the Anambas Islands (near Singapore).

Wolf’s voyage was the most successful undertaken by any German raider and no doubt reinforced the value of the merchant raider concept of operations, particularly the use of an embarked aircraft (this concept was again used by the Germans to great effect in World War II). The Wolf, without support of any kind, had made the longest voyage of a warship during World War I and had steamed almost 2.5 times around the globe. Her actions over a wide area between Cape Town and New Zealand caused confusion and the allocation of a large number of forces to try and locate her.

Wolf crossed the Tasman after mining off New Zealand to mine near Gabo Island (off Cape Howe) on the night of 3-4 July 1917. She laid 30 mines, and would have lain more but for the appearance of a vessel that she took to be an Australian cruiser.

Sinking of SS Cumberland

On 6 July 1917, just two days after Wolf had laid her minefields, the SS Cumberland was heading down the east coast for a voyage to the United Kingdom after picking up cargo in Townsville, Bowen and Sydney. The 9,660-ton steam ship reported at 0835 that she had struck a mine ten miles south of Gabo Island. The Department of Navy had given written route directions that would keep Cumberland outside mineable water (outside the 100 fathom line). The Master, Captain McGibbon, later admitted that he disobeyed these instructions, and the ship was several miles inside his prescribed course.

Cumberland reported that she was sinking and required assistance. The ship had a hole some 21 by 14 feet in No. 1 hold and was taking water but struggled towards Gabo Island and grounded for urgent repairs around1400. By evening the ship had about 38 feet of water in No. 1 hold and 17 feet in No. 2 hold. The crew decided to temporarily abandon Cumberland and landed on Gabo.

Vessels were dispatched from Sydney and Melbourne with dedicated salvage equipment, including pumps and mooring gear. By the time they arrived, Cumberland’s holds, boiler room and engine room were flooded. Salvage operations commenced under the supervision of Captain Christopher Spinks of Vine Hall and Spinks Marine Salvage Agents, from Sydney The ship’s agent, acting on behalf of the owners the Federal Steam Navigation Company, was responsible for implementing the salvage arrangements.

Naval and Harbour Trust divers were deployed patching the hole by removing jagged plating and attaching sturdy timber bracing and patches made from layers of canvas. In addition, the bulkhead was repaired and the ship pumped out. However the cargo of some 2,000 tons of metal ingots was not removed. Several vessels were involved in the salvage including the Illawarra & South Coast Steam Navigation Company’s steamers Merimbula and Bermagui, and the tugs Champion and James Paterson from Melbourne.

After five weeks of strenuous repair work by divers and a dedicated salvage team, on the morning of 11 August the ship was refloated and the tugs James Patterson and Champion commenced a tow to Twofold Bay for further repairs. A salvage crew under Captain Spinks was onboard and the boilers were lit to maintain pumping of the holds. However, by evening, the weather had worsened and as the swell developed it became impossible for the tugs to make headway and Cumberland started to take on water faster than the pumps could manage. By 2200 the stricken ship had settled down by the bow and waves were now crashing over the deck hatches. By now it was clear the vessel’s situation was hopeless and Spinks ordered the ship abandoned. The tugs slipped the tow and Merimbula and Bermagui stood by to offer help, the former rescuing Cumberland’s crew. Shortly after the last of the crew reached Merimbula, the Cumberland sank bow first. She had been towed twenty-three miles before being lost and sank 18 miles from Eden in an estimated depth of 50-60 fathoms.

Sweeping the Gabo Island Minefield

At this stage there was no intelligence on Wolf’s activities, or the movement of any other suspicious ship off the Australian coast, however, given the depth of water where Cumberland was hit, it was agreed that mining was feasible. On learning Cumberland had suffered damage an inquiry was immediately ordered under Major George Steward CMG, Official Secretary to the Governor General (Sir Ronald Munro Ferguson). His report to the Prime Minister, completed 18 September, found convincing proof that Cumberland had struck a mine. Whilst the Naval Board suspected an internal explosion, it recommended minesweeping to the Minister of Navy in order to resolve the question of the cause of the explosion. The area to be swept was based on the datum provided by Cumberland hitting a mine in the Gabo Island minefield.

On 26 September 1917, two trawlers (Gunundaal and Koraaga) were leased to undertake minesweeping off Gabo Island. (The third trawler, Brolga, was leased on 8 November). The crews for the trawlers were engaged for temporary service in the RAN Brigade. Lieutenant Commander Ranken was posted from DNAS to Penguin on 19 September to command Gunundaal and as Senior Officer Mine Sweeping Unit. He reported to the Captain in Charge HMA Naval Establishments, Sydney, Captain John Glossop CB, RN (of Emden fame), who was in overall command of their subsequent operations. The minesweeping unit sailed from Garden Island, Sydney eight days later on 3 October 1917.

It was intended that sweeping near the Cumberland datum commence on 5 October, however a gale delayed danlaying and sweeping was delayed by three days. The first mine ever swept by the RAN was swept on 9 October 1917. At 1325 Gunundaal and Koraaga were sweeping in 100 m depth of water near the location reported by Cumberland, when the sweep wire veered off Gunundaal’s winch. At 1405 Ranken asked the Mate to feel the sweep wire, and it was decided that there was nothing hung up on the sweep wire. At 1415 an explosion occurred shaking both ships fore and aft, and the location of the detonation of the mine was buoyed. Fortunately the mine was deep when it detonated. After engaging the mine mooring the sweep wire probably dragged the mine down as it ran up the mooring, and then rode up the mine and bent a horn which exploded the mine. The mine detonation was 4.8 miles from Gabo Island Lighthouse, and Ranken reported that the stone buildings were shaken. There was no plume; however the water boiled up over an area of about 80 square metres.

The sweeping of this first mine was reported the same day by telegram (via the Gabo Island Lighthouse) to the Captain-in-Charge, Sydney. At 0930 on 10 October Ranken received orders from the Captain Glossop (presumably from a telegram collected that morning at the lighthouse) to provide a full written report of the discovery of this mine. At 1100 Gunundaal and Koraaga weighed anchor and proceeded to Eden to post the report. The letter on 10 October appears to have been written in haste by Ranken, keen to resume actual sweeping. Ranken’s writing was normally copperplate. The Minister for the Navy, Sir Joseph Cook, promptly released statements on this initial sweeping operation, and these were reported by the newspapers. The psychological warhead of mining would have generated public shock and concern commensurate with a weapon that was new to Australian waters.

There were five more sweeping deployments in October, November, December and January 1918. A further eight mines swept making a total of eleven mines were swept under Ranken (until 21 December) and one in January 1918. His final Report of Proceedings indicates the adverse weather conditions the minesweepers encountered on these deployments.

Ranken gave an interview which was published in the Sydney Morning Herald on 3 November on the minesweeping operations and the minefield. The article gave more detail on the mines than the earlier press release made by the Minister the Navy. The fact that Ranken had spoken to the press incurred the wrath of the Naval Board with the Second Naval Member (Captain Henry Cochrane RN) finding Ranken’s reasons, which indicated the information was cleared by the Censor, unsatisfactory, particularly as the Board has issued explicit instructions forbidding giving statements to the press.

The Naval Board proposed not to re-employ Ranken in the minesweeping service. Ranken requested on 1 December 1917 that the Naval Board reconsider this decision, but the decision to not re-employ him in minesweeping was confirmed on 15 December. Given Ranken’s extensive background in setting up and managing the minesweeping capability, the general paucity of RAN minesweeping expertise and the ‘good news’ style of article, it is surprising that the Naval Board acted so quickly and took such a hard line on what must be considered a minor indiscretion.

Ranken returned to Sydney on 22 December and did not participate in further minesweeping operations. However, he remained posted to Penguin and his minesweeping expertise continued to be used for minesweeping analysis in Brisbane and Townsville. He resigned in September 1918 and the Navy lost one of its most experienced minesweeping experts. He returned to poultry farming at Castle Hill.

In March 1919, the Admiralty wrote to the RAN calling for recommendations for awards in respect of minesweeping service. This was an unusual request as it was the only time the Admiralty had communicated with the RAN on the subject of honours and awards. Rankin’s old boss, Captain Tickell, the Director of Naval Auxiliary Services, drafted the response to the Admiralty, recommending four personnel, including Ranken. Captain Glossop had also recommended Ranken’s name be included. The wording was precise, stating Ranken: ‘Was Officer Commanding Minesweeping operations and successfully swept the enemy mine-field off Gabo Island, SE Australia when 10 enemy mines were destroyed. This Officer showed marked ability and devotion to duty during the minesweeping operations off this coast.’

In October 1919, Ranken received an OBE in recognition ‘for valuable services in minesweeping operations’ during the War. In July that year the RN had promoted him to Commander RNR (retd) ‘in recognition of services rendered during the War’ and in September 1920 he was awarded the Royal Navy Reserve Officers’ Decoration.

Conclusion

Frances Ranken died at Parramatta on 1 September 1929 and was cremated the next day at Rookwood Crematorium. They had no children and his wife, Menina Blanche Paige-Ranken, who was an accomplished pianist and well known in Sydney music circles, died in 1947.

Ranken had a remarkable life and made a significant contribution to the RAN’s minesweeping capability in World War I. His actions when as Chief Officer of RMS Orient taking charge of the boat delivering supplies to the brig Phyllis in ferocious sea conditions, indicates his courage and ability to succeed in arduous conditions. The rapid and successful implementation of the Minesweeping Service from a virtual vacuum no doubt reflected his considerable organising abilities and management skill. His command of the successful minesweeping campaign in adverse conditions was an impressive record. It is fitting that he was recognised for his service and achievements. It is interesting that the RN conferred a promotion to Commander RNR and a Reserve decoration on him which suggests that he had left a positive impression from his time in the RN and that his old service recognised what he had accomplished in sweeping the Gabo Island minefield.

Publication March 2014 edition of the Naval Historical Review (all rights reserved)
By Hector Donohue

Occasional Paper 57: The Naval Ode and Laurence Binyon

July 6, 2019

July 2019

There are moments when we first gaze upon a work of art, whether in the pictorial or written form, and are drawn to its beauty and are inspired. The evocative lines of the Naval Ode combine to create such an occasion.

These two simple but disparate verses are often attributed to the English poet Laurence Binyon. While the second verse comes from Binyon’s tribute ‘For the Fallen’ extensive research has failed to find authorship to the opening verse which may well have come from an earlier folk song. Although of entirely separate derivations this unlikely but happy literary marriage serves us well.

They have no grave but the cruel sea,

No flowers lay at their head,

A rusting hulk is their tombstone,

Afast on the ocean bed.

They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old:

Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.

At the going down of the sun and in the morning,

We will remember them.

Laurence Binyon, the son of a Quaker pastor, was born on 10 August 1869. He was educated at St Paul’s School in London and read literature at Trinity College Oxford, winning the Newdigate Prize for poetry. His later career was at the British Museum where he became a published expert of oriental art. In 1904 he married historian Cicely Powell, and the couple had three daughters.

Profoundly affected by the horror of the Great War and the tragic number of casualties of the British Expeditionary Force, Binyon wrote his most famous work ‘For the Fallen’. This was composed while on the cliff tops of the rugged north Cornish coast. The stanza ‘They shall grow not old’ was written first and dictated the rhythmical movement of the whole seven stanza poem. The scholar did not have to look far for inspiration, drawing on Shakespeare’s description in Anthony and Cleopatra ‘Age cannot wither her, nor custom stale’. Binyon’s poem was first published in ‘The Times’ on 21 September 1914 and found widespread appreciation. Keen observers will note that the second line of the author’s manuscript remains faithful to the original text using ‘Age shall not wither them’ which was subsequently changed to ‘Age shall not weary them’.

Manuscript of Laurence Binyon’s original draft

In 1915, then aged 46, beyond the age of conscription and despite being a pacifist, Binyon volunteered to work as a hospital orderly caring for the wounded in France. After the war he returned to the British Museum and continued writing on art. In 1931 his two volumes of collected poems were published and in 1932 he rose to become Keeper (departmental head) of Prints and Drawings. The next year however he resigned from the Museum in favour of the Norton Professorship of Poetry at Harvard. He later returned to England and continued his academic work until he died in 1943.

In 1932 Lawrence Binyon was awarded the prestigious Order of the Companion of Honour (CH) for his outstanding achievement in the field of art. He is commemorated by a plaque in the Poets’ Corner at Westminster Abby.

Lest we forget.

Occasional Paper 56: Recollections of founding the Naval Historical Society

June 17, 2019

June 2019

In 1970 Lew Lind, Rod Atwill, Alan Payne and myself found ourselves with the responsibility of putting together an association which we were to call the Naval Historical Society. There were not very many founder-members, but we set to and designed, in the months to follow, an anchor logo for the mail which we sent out, and a tie for the members to wear.

I had the combined duties of Secretary/Treasurer for some time, and I remember developing a system whereby I knew when people became unfinancial, by arranging twelve envelopes addressed to individual members at the time they joined; when there were no more envelopes, then we were due for another annual subscription.

The arrangement for addressing them was itself quite ingenious – I found a stationer’s shop in North Sydney, it is so long ago now that I have quite forgotten where, who sold a little roller-printer like a rubber stamp, with ink in the handle, and a typed stencil which was clipped across the semi-circular roller; once each address had been typed and the stencil fitted, it was a very easy job to run off twelve envelopes, one for every month of the Bulletins which Lew produced so efficiently. We utilised the Kalamazoo system of accounting, which was so simple and so easy that even I could operate it.

At one time, around 1974 or 1975 I had one bedroom full of the books that Lew and Alan had written; it had been necessary to store them somewhere when various buildings in the Dockyard were changed in their uses, and so my little house in Dover Heights became a book store: I had been in the habit of collecting them directly from the printers and they were stacked right up to the deckhead, and eventually, when space became available in the Dockyard again, it took dozens of carloads to shift them all down there.

There was one time when Lew and I went to see Manly Council. We had a scheme, drawn up in considerable detail, for the aircraft carrier SYDNEY to be installed alongside the old gas-works by Kurraba Point, and although they were in agreement with the scheme on the first occasion we saw them, only two or three days later when we went back to see them again, it was as though they had all been poisoned against the idea, because there was not a single consenting voice, and we were completely frozen out.

On another occasion we had a beautiful proposal for mounting the complete superstructure of the old SYDNEY by the southern pylons of the Harbour Bridge. I got hold of the drawings from the Drawing Office, and I worked out, from the plate thicknesses (remembering that 1” plate weighs 40 lbs per square foot) the total weight of the steel in the structure; but for one reason or another, the scheme never came to fruition – it was a great pity, she would have looked jolly good, mounted there, with all her navigation lights shining brightly at night.

But the one project which did actually see the light of day was the salvage of the bows and stern of the old PARRAMATTA, stranded high up on the mud of the banks of the Hawkesbury River. We had a lot of fun with that one, with the contractor’s crawler crane mounted on a lighter, and another lighter for the bow and stern sections of the old ship. She was very dangerous to crawl around, as most of the steel plating had corroded nearly right through, and was only paper-thin in most places. I shall always remember seeing the thick growth of mangroves through her bottom-plating in the Engine Room (what there was left of it). She had been there since 1934.

It was Wednesday afternoon, I fancy, when we steamed back from the Hawkesbury, with our two big trophies, and we paraded them past the ships in the Dockyard, with a big sign on the bow section – ‘HMAS PARRAMATTA – FIRST SHIP OF THE RAN’.

The contractor did all the work, and he found it dangerous when his crane fell through the rotting deck of the lighter, at Church Point, while trying to get the crane back ashore; there was only the tip of the jib showing above the surface, and a great big jagged hole in the deck of the lighter. It was also difficult when he had to shift the huge pieces of the old ship down the Parramatta Road to get them into the Council’s yard.

Lew’s book on PARRAMATTA has photographs of these events, but not the crane having fallen through the lighter’s deck; it was very fortunate that nobody was hurt that day.

When the time eventually came to unveil the stern section of the ship in Queen’s Park, the Mayor, making his speech of introduction, got his aldermen and his admirals hopelessly confused. Admiral V.A.T. Smith was the senior officer present on that particular occasion.

The little tin shed between the Sign writers’ Shop and the back of the Barracks Building became a general storehouse for the Society after all our various bits and pieces (and there were a lot of them) had to be shifted from the cupboards in the Personnel Building. Racks and racks of books, magazines, old pictures and historic photographs had to be sorted and sifted, and collected when needed.

During those early formative years, we had meetings all over the place; Johnnie’s in Grosvenor Street in the City was a favourite spot; a grand old building, full of Naval history.

We used to tote around an amplifier and a couple of loudspeakers, with miles of wire so they could be mounted in the most suitable position. One particular occasion I remember was the launching of Lew’s book on PARRAMATTA; he had invited RADM Doyle, who was her Engineer Officer in 1914; it was indeed an honour to meet him. The launch was made by Commodore ‘Red’ Merson.

We had one wonderful evening onboard MELBOURNE, and we got Austin Frauenfelder to come with us – he was a flying instructor before the formation of the RFC, and that’s a long time ago; he used to discourage his pupils from flying over the sea, as “they might get their feet wet”. He was one of the very few men who had actually flown the very aircraft in which Bleriot crossed the Channel on 25 July 1909. It was a 25-HP plane, of his own design, and the story goes that only because it was raining at the time did the engine keep cool enough on the way over.

The whole story of the Naval Historical Society is one of great credit to Lew Lind, the founder, first President and father of the Society which has gone from strength to strength since that first day in the classroom by the Post Office.

Author Churchill, Peter, Lieutenant Commander, RN (Rtd)

Occasional Paper 53: Petty Officer Fredrick Harold Harvey and Colombian Naval Service

May 17, 2019

May 2019

As told by his son CMDR Vic Harvey, RAN, Rtd

Fredrick Harold Harvey was a proud Geordie lad, born in Newcastle-upon-Tyne’s suburb of Benwell, on 13 August 1899. Benwell in the West End of Newcastle, with many streets of neat terraced houses, is dominated by its colliery. After leaving school at 14 Fred found work with the tramways and became a tram conductor.

Only known photo of Frederick Harvey in naval uniform – Family

At the time of the Great War on 30 July 1917 he entered the Royal Navy as a Boy Seaman, a month later on his 18th birthday, he signed a 12 year engagement. On entry Fred was only 5 feet 3 inches tall, so he instantly earned the nickname ‘Shorty’, had brown hair, grey eyes and a fresh complexion with a couple of well–earned scars, as Shorty was known for getting into scraps.

At this time there was little shore–side training and his first ship was the formidable looking four-funnel cruiser HMS Powerful, but she was from a past age, had most of her armament removed, and was used as an accommodation ship. He later joined the armoured cruiser HMS Shannon, she had been built pre-war and after Jutland became flagship of a cruiser squadron patrolling in the North Sea. Fred remained in her until she paid off in May 1919. There must have been some action concerning ship salvage as post-war Fred received £4/13/6 in prize money.

It was then off to warmer climes for service with the 3rd Light Cruiser Squadron in the Mediterranean in HMS Centaur. On New Year’s Day 1921 Fred was promoted to Able Seaman. With vast post-war reductions to the fleet Fred had quite a few posting ashore to the training depot HMS Vividat Devonport, which later became better known as HMS Drake.Fred was promoted to Leading Seaman while still in Vividon 10 December 1925 and passed out for Petty Officer on 6 July 1926.

At the time his engagement expired on 12 August 1929 he was serving in the distinctive new battleship HMS Rodney. Her main armament comprised nine 16-inch guns in three turrets, all forward of the bridge. From Rodney Fred was issued with a ‘Gunnery History Sheet’ providing a record of his proficiency in gunnery examinations conducted in all his seagoing ships and a ‘Trade Certificate’ signed by Captain F.L. Tottenham, RN (later Admiral Sir Francis Tottenham). The latter document notes ‘a thoroughly reliable Leading Seaman displaying intelligence, energy, initiative and power of command’.

In 1926 Fred married childhood sweetheart Dorothy Elaine Rodgers and they set up house in Plymouth where the first of two boys, Frederick Harold, was born in 1927. But 1929 was not the best of times to be leaving the comfort and security of the Royal Navy with the Great Depression beginning to cast an ominous shadow over industrial England. With little prospect of work the family migrated to Windsor in Ontario where they had relatives. While some work was found conditions in Canada were not much better than England and the harsh winters did not suit Mum especially with young Victor Edward coming along in 1931. The next year they returned to Plymouth.

South America

In the 1920s the Admiralty authorised the establishment of British Naval Missions in various countries with the aim of providing training and support with increased cooperation through targeted ship visits. This in turn aimed to demonstrate British technical expertise and encourage foreign shipbuilding orders.

In 1932 a conflict erupted between Colombia¹and neighbouring Peru regarding a border dispute in the region of the Amazon River. This led to the re–establishment of a Colombian naval service, which had previously been disbanded. A Royal Naval Mission was quickly dispatched to assist the Colombians. This was mainly in response to a potential ‘Red Threat’ with Peru acquiring two older Russian destroyers, renamed Almirante Villar and Almirante Guise, from the politically unstable Republic of Estonia in 1933. Colombia is strategically placed between South and Central America with many neighbours and responsibility for its naval waters over both the Atlantic (Caribbean) and Pacific oceans. In this instance the Peruvians, with their naval forces based only on the Pacific coast, sailed a task force into the Atlantic – so the threat was real.

Post WWI the Admiralty invited requests from British shipyards for new destroyer designs. The winning designs were from Yarrow and Thorneycroft resulting in the construction of one ship from each yard, HM Ships Ambuscade and Amazon. A year after commissioning in 1928 these ships were sent on a cruise around South America, which included calls at Colombia and Peru, and home via Panama and the West Indies.

The Washington Naval Treaty of 1922 called for significant reductions in naval tonnage resulting in the Royal Navy having no suitable ships to offer Colombia. However a class of six new destroyers based on the Ambuscade design was being built for the Portuguese Navy. The first quarter of the 20th century was tumultuous in Portuguese politics as Britain’s oldest ally transitioned from a catholic monarchy to a socialist republic, cumulating in a 1926 military coup. Despite this two ships were built in Britain (NRP Vouga and Lima) and the remainder in Portugal.

With British assistance two of the Portuguese built vessels were purchased off the stocks by the Armada Nacional Republica de Colombia (ANC) and renamed Antioquia and Caldas. The Portuguese then built two further replacement ships. Royal Naval support was provided in commissioning, storing, manning and working up these vessels.

Leading Seaman Frederick Harvey joins the Colombian Naval Service

A recruitment campaign was undertaken in England to help man the two new destroyers. No mean perk for those in the know, with a two year contract being offer on very similar conditions to service to those afforded under Kings Regulations & Admiralty Instructions (KRAI) which included medical cover, insurance and death benefits. The real incentive, in these times of grave unemployment, was 33⅓% additional pay in £stg for an equivalent RN rank. While this was a single man’s posting, at the completion of the contract a fully paid return passage to England was provided, plus an additional two months pay in lieu of leave.

NRP Lima constructed by Yarrow & Co., Glasgow

On 23 February 1934 a formal ‘Contract for Ratings’ (written in English) was entered into between the Chargé d’Affaires of Colombia representing the Government of Colombia and Frederick Harold Harvey. This was witnessed by a Royal Naval officer. On New Year’s Day 1935 another bonus was received with Fred promoted to Petty Officer.

There is an interesting aside in the report of a football (soccer) match between the two ships when working up. This notes that Antioquia’s goalkeeper ‘Shorty Harvey’ accidentally collided with an opposing player with the result that Shorty lost most of his teeth but with true British grit he continued playing with his ship winning 5 – 1. Shorty was not carted off to hospital until the end of the game.

Eventually both new destroyers reached their home port of Cartagena in Colombia on 14 May 1934. They were more of an insurance policy as the dispute with Peru had been settled before their arrival. We are not aware of Fred’s service in country but it does not appear to have been arduous and, strictly in accordance with his contract, he returned home on 22 February 1936. Upon return, with tales to tell and employment gradually improving, Fred became a postman in his native Newcastle. He also joined the RNR.

Had Fred remained in Antioquia he might have seen some unusual action. On 21 January 1936 on the occasion of the death of King George V the Bermuda Militia Artillery were instructed to fire a ceremonial salute from their 4.7-inch gun battery. This salute consisted of 70 blank rounds – one for every year of the sovereign’s life. Because of damp storage conditions there were insufficient blanks so the shortfall was substituted with life rounds fired at maximum elevation. As they opened fire the gunners were unaware that Antioquia was making for the Royal Naval Dockyard, where she was scheduled for refit. Although straddled the ship was not damaged.

Once more with the outbreak of war in 1939 Fred volunteered for naval service but was knocked back. This did not stop him from joining the Army as a private. Now over forty years of age he remained in the United Kingdom, mainly employed as a Batman/Driver to a senior officer based in Scotland.

After the war Fred was welcomed back into the Post Office where he worked as a driver until the time of his death in 1963. He is buried in Newcastle. His widow Dorothy came to Australia and lived with her son Victor and his wife Connie until her death in 1986. The eldest son Frederick Harold (junior) with his wife Violet migrated to Canada where they made successful business careers and raised two children. Finally younger son Vic continued the family tradition, joined the Andrew and, with many years of distinguished service in the RAN … but that is another story.

Notes:

1. In terms of population, present day Colombia, with a population in excess of 49 million, is the second largest country in South America.

Occasional Paper 52: The RAN and the 1918-19 Influenza Pandemic

May 17, 2019

May 2019

Editor’s Note: This article first appeared in Issue 6 of Semaphore, the publication produced by The Sea Power Centre Australia in March 2006. We are indebted to them for their permission to reproduce the article.

Between April 1918 and May 1919, influenza, or its secondary complications, caused up to 50 million deaths, far more than had been killed in four years of war. Many died within the first few days of infection, and nearly half of these were young, healthy adults. The speed with which it spread has been described as ‘…perhaps the most extraordinary feature of this extraordinary pandemic…‘, for the easy transfer, from shore to ship and ship to shore, meant that even communities isolated by sea were vulnerable. A rigorous maritime quarantine policy reduced the immediate impact in Australia, but by the end of 1919 the nation had still suffered more than 11,500 deaths.

The ships of the Royal Australian Navy (RAN), dispersed as they were around the world, were certainly not spared. The pandemic occurred in waves and the cruisers operating with the British Grand Fleet suffered several outbreaks in 1918, with up to 157 cases in a single ship. Outbreaks in the Mediterranean were even more severe with the cruiser HMAS Brisbane recording 183 cases between November and December 1918, of whom two died of pneumonia. In all, the RAN lost some 26 men to the disease. When the cramped mess decks and poorly ventilated living spaces of early 20th century warships are recalled, it is perhaps remarkable that the toll was not greater. The saving factor was largely the ready availability of professional medical treatment.

Pacific Islands

Some of the most virulent outbreaks occurred in the islands of the South Pacific, where few among the indigenous populations escaped infection. The disease arrived on the regular cargo vessel SS Talune, which had sailed from Auckland on 30 October 1918, knowingly carrying sick passengers. Successively calling at ports in Fiji, Samoa, Tonga and Nauru, the steamer’s visits were marked by the first cases of influenza appearing ashore a few days after her departure. With local authorities generally unprepared, the infection spread uncontrollably, a situation aggravated both by the shortage of suitable drugs and the fact that local health workers were among the first to fall.

Hardest hit was the former German territory of Samoa, where inept New Zealand administration resulted in no attempts at patient isolation and the rejection of medical assistance offered from nearby American Samoa. With the forced closure of government institutions and stores, few people being in a fit state to assist with the distribution of food and medicines, and a growing number of uninterred dead, the Samoan situation rapidly became critical. On 19 November the military governor in the capital of Apia telegraphed Wellington for help, but had his request turned down on the grounds that all doctors were needed in New Zealand. Australia offered the only alternative source of aid.

The Commonwealth Naval Board was already aware of the developing regional crisis. The sloop HMAS Fantome, stationed at Suva in Fiji for police duties, had reported her first cases of influenza on 11 November, and soon had more than half her ship’s company incapacitated. More importantly in terms of an effective Australian response, of all government departments only the RAN had suitable assets at immediate readiness. On 20 November, the Board began gathering a joint relief expedition from among the available naval and military medical personnel, placing it under the command of Surgeon Temple Grey, RAN. The commanding officer of HMAS Encounter, Captain Hugh Thring, RAN, was then ordered to embark the expedition at Sydney and proceed at the earliest possible date to Samoa.

Even today the speed of Encounter’s response must be admired. Her sailing orders were telegraphed from Melbourne on Friday, 22 November, and throughout the next day and night the ship’s company worked tirelessly to get in relief stores. Without any information from Samoa as to specific requirements, Thring loaded almost 150 tons of cargo ranging from blankets and tents through to drugs and dry provisions, expecting that these would meet any emergency. The weekend created further difficulties as shops were shut and some items not in stock had to be purchased. Nevertheless, on Sunday forenoon the medical teams embarked, the last of the stores were in by 1550, and ten minutes later Encounter sailed from Sydney.

Double inoculations

Encounter was not a modern ship, but she had led an active service life, most recently involving convoy escort and patrol duties in the Malay Archipelago and Australian waters. Just the previous month she had suffered 74 cases of influenza while operating out of Fremantle, and now, as a precaution against further infection, all members of her crew (over 450) were doubly inoculated. Encounter’s normal passage speed was only 13 knots, but this had to be regulated by coal consumption and navigational requirements. Without modern navigational aids, it was sometimes necessary to arrive at certain points in daylight, while fuel replenishment, and hence range, relied on an efficient logistics system. A coaling stop in Suva would be necessary, but naval stocks there amounted to only 300 tons, so the Naval Board arranged for a rendezvous with a collier. This vessel could not, however, reach Fiji until at least 5 December.

Strict quarantine

Arriving in Suva on 30 November Encounter took on half the available coal and, almost more important, 39 tons of water. With influenza still prevalent, Thring implemented a strict quarantine enforced by guards placed on the wharf. The ship’s company completed all coaling, rather than the native labour normally employed. As no one could return from ashore, Thring communicated by letter with Britain’s resident High Commissioner for the Western Pacific, C.H. Rodwell. The news was not good. The Samoan epidemic showed no sign of abating, with deaths in Apia reaching 50 a day. Moreover, a message from Tonga indicated that conditions there were at least as bad while the facilities for coping with it were worse. On his own initiative, Thring extended Encounter’s mission to include Tonga, but to avoid further delay, landed a nine-man team under the senior Army surgeon, Major Alexander, to take immediate passage in SY Ranadi. Unfortunately, the yacht broke down soon after sailing and was forced to return to Suva.

Sailing from Suva on the evening of 30 November, Thring called for 80 volunteers from his own ship’s company should it prove necessary to provide greater assistance ashore. Despite the dangerous and unpleasant nature of the work, and the fact that any party landed would be left behind – missing their first peacetime Christmas at home – all the officers and most of the ratings volunteered. It would be difficult to find a more telling example of the Australian Navy’s tradition of ‘service before self’.

Encounter anchored off Apia on the morning of 3 December. The harbour was small for a ship of her size and, when combined with a considerable swell and strong winds, made unloading extremely hazardous. Although the ship rolled through more than 20 degrees, within six hours ` the landing party (six surgeons, eighteen medical orderlies and three naval sick berth ratings) and their stores were safely disembarked.

Ashore Surgeon Grey and his teams immediately set to work, yet the scale of the disaster remained daunting, and for many of those afflicted help came too late. A Sydney newspaper reported that the Australians ‘…with their motor trucks are doing wonderful service day after day gathering up the dead, who are simply lifted out of their houses as they lie on their sleeping-mats. The mats are wrapped around them, and they are deposited in one great pit.‘

Economic and social collapse

Made worse by the deaths caused by exhaustion and starvation, the two-month epidemic eventually killed 25 per cent of the total Samoan population, and often more than half the male adults in individual communities. Economic and social collapse followed.

Meanwhile Encounter had proceeded direct to Tonga reaching the capital, Nuku’alofa, on 5 December. Here the British Consul advised that, although subsiding, the epidemic had struck down 95 per cent of the indigenous population and left 10 per cent dead. The situation in the outlying islands was just as bad. Thring attempted to get Fantome to bring out Major Alexander’s party, which had been doing good work in Fiji, but the sloop had experienced a fresh outbreak of influenza and remained unable to go to sea. Rodwell had no other craft available for the task.

Thring landed his last surgeon together with five orderlies and the remaining drugs and stores, but there was little more he could do. Yet even this small contribution was of great relief to the European and indigenous community. In thanking Thring for Encounter’s ‘timely aid’, the Consul remarked:

‘Though conditions had greatly improved before the party arrived there was still a good deal of work to be done of a nature that required professional skill and knowledge‘.

The party, he added, ‘…has been indefatigable… in efforts to eradicate the disease‘.

Effective measures

With Encounter running short of coal, Thring sailed for Suva on 7 December. Arriving two days later he received orders to return directly to Sydney. Encounter reached Sydney on 17 December and was immediately placed in quarantine. Only one member of her crew had shown any signs of illness during the voyage, and as testament to the effectiveness of the prophylactic and quarantine measures employed, none developed influenza.

Humanitarian assistance

Thus ended Australia’s first overseas relief expedition. This was one which, although unusual for the times, foreshadowed the now regular employment of the RAN’s assets to provide humanitarian assistance and demonstrate national interest in regional affairs. Indeed, in the context of the maritime doctrinal concepts of flexibility and adaptability, it should be noted that Thring’s orders were not restricted to providing medical aid. Preserving order in the Pacific was among the many subsidiary duties undertaken by the early RAN, and warnings of trouble brewing among the inhabitants of the Gilbert and Ellice Islands (now Kiribati and Tuvalu) had been received by the Naval Board in the weeks before the expedition.

While in Suva, Thring took care to discuss with Rodwell how best a warship might support his authority. On this occasion, no immediate assistance was necessary, but Encounter’s mission might easily have been extended to provide presence elsewhere, and back this up with a large landing force if necessary. It remains a poignant reminder that, by their nature, seaborne forces possess a variety of characteristics and attributes which are not necessarily present in other tools of government foreign policy.

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