Lord’s Voyage to Damnation: The Third Captain’s Tale

By Captain Jim Currie

This is almost-but not quite-a true story.

Captain Stanley Lord and most of the principal characters in this book did exist and were damned for eternity.

So what connection was there between the captain and the golden corpse on an English beach?

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse UK
• Release date: Jun 26, 2022
• ISBN: 9781665599795

Book preview

© 2022 Captain Jim Currie. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or

transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 06/24/2022

ISBN: 978-1-6655-9980-1 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-6655-9979-5 (e)

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models,

and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in

this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views

expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the

views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Contents

Chapter 1:     Homeward-Bound

Chapter 2:     Change of Orders

Chapter 3:     London - bound

Chapter 4:     London

Chapter 5:     Whitehall

Chapter 6:     The Plan

Chapter 7:     Bad News

Chapter 8:     Cargo Work

Chapter 9:     Outward - bound

Chapter 10:   The Corner

Chapter 11:   Steel Meets Ice

Chapter 12:   Along Came a Stranger

Chapter 13:   The Mysterious Visitor

Chapter 14:   Rockets in the Night

Chapter 15:   Confusing Signals

Chapter 16:   Who’s Been Firing Rockets?

Chapter 17:   Back in Blighty

Chapter 18:   Golden Alarm Bells

Chapter 19:   Californian to the Rescue

Chapter 20:   Californian to the Rescue-Again!

Chapter 21:   Burial at Sea

Chapter 22:   Onward to Boston

Chapter 23:   Change of Plan

Chapter 24:   Boston

Chapter 25:   Lunch Time

Chapter 26:   Gold Mining Made Easy

Chapter 27:   The Nightmare Begins

Chapter 28:   Clinton MA.

Chapter 29:   A Marshal Calls

Chapter 30:   The US Senate Inquiry

Chapter 31:   Homeward Bound Again

Chapter 32:   Liverpool

Chapter 33:   London Once Again

Chapter 34:   The London Inquiry

Chapter 35:   The Officer’s Club

Chapter 36:   Limbo

Chapter 37:   A Parcel of Rogues

Chapter 38:   A Mysterious Benefactor

Chapter 39:   The Goat Escapes

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Chapter 1

Homeward-Bound

T he Wireless Operator sat with his feet up on the desktop. His legs were crossed at the ankles and the back of his chair was jammed hard against an old chart table - bracing his body against the movement of the ship as it rolled slowly back and forth in the long, low Atlantic swell. The only sound to be heard in the remote wireless shack at the back of the wheelhouse was the creaking of the old girl’s bones as she reached the limit of her roll to each side.

The young man was warm and comfortable - almost asleep. In fact, he repeatedly had to re-read the words on the page of an old magazine propped against his raised thighs. It would soon be time to switch off and go to his warm bunk.

Cyril Furmstone Evans, better know as Sparks by all on board, (except the captain who called him Wireless) was twenty years old and nearing the end of his second trip to sea; despite this - he was bored.

A mere 6 months earlier, he had realised his dream of going to sea as a Wireless Operator, and had obtained his first berth as a Marconi Company employee on the steam ship Cedric.

Like all lads of his age, was looking forward to a life of adventure on the high seas- despite his dreams coming true - yet here he was - thoroughly bored!

On the way back from The States, the passage on the steam ship Californian had also been boring. Except for the inevitable long, low swell, the great Atlantic Ocean had been on its best behaviour for the entire voyage. If the weather had been going to turn nasty it would more than likely have done so during the previous two days. After all, it was late March and close to the spring equinox; a time of great storms in the North Atlantic. The litter of wrecks on the seabed in the vicinity of the southern gateways to the Irish Sea and English Channel bore witness to that. Yet the skies had remained clear, and the sea; friendly.

Without warning, the earphones clamped to his ears erupted in sharp collections of long and short clicks and buzzes. He read;

From:GLD. GLD. GLD... Lizard-Lizard-Lizard. CQ. CQ. CQ.

Calling All ships -All ships-All ships. Traffic-Traffic-Traffic.

Thereafter, the Post Office wireless station at Lizard Point on the southernmost tip of England started transmitting an alphabetical list of ship Call Signs.

Not every ship was equipped with this new electric communication wonder, but those who were, had been allocated three unique identification letters or "Call Signs". Consequently, if an Operator heard his particular call sign he would know there was a message for him and would contact the shore station transmitting it.

Rudely brought back to life, Sparks quickly returned both feet to the deck with a double thump; the discarded magazine clattering to the deck. He fine-tuned his wireless receiver and got ready with his message pad and pencil, listening avidly for the letters M-W-L which was Californian’s call sign.

There were loads of messages that morning. It seemed to him the list would never get to the thirteenth letter of the alphabet. He had all but given up any hope when suddenly his waning concentration was brought sharply back into focus. He heard it. No mistake! -His ship’s call sign blasted his eardrums. It was repeated three times. MWL-MWL-MWL. There would be at least one message for Californian. He therefore waited until the end of the Traffic transmission then contacted the wireless station.

There was in fact, only one message for his ship, and since it was formally addressed to The Commander - Captain Stanley Lord. He carefully wrote it on a Marconi Company message form specially designed for that purpose then took the transcribed message to the wheelhouse, thinking to find the ship’s captain.

The wheelhouse was deserted but he found his shipboard mate, Second Officer Groves, keeping a lookout on the port wing of the bridge.

Spying Sparks at the Wheelhouse door, Groves greeted his friend.

Good Lord! he exclaimed. Is that you Sparks? What brings you creeping out of your cubby-hole at this time of night?

"I’m looking for the Old man Grovesy." answered Evans.

Groves laughed, then advised him that the old man was expecting to be on the bridge all night, and was having a bit of a lay- down in his chart room situated on the deck below the Wheelhouse.

Arriving at the chart room, Sparks found its louvered door closed. His first tentative knock failed to evoke the slightest response. He knocked again - louder this time - and was rewarded by the raised voice of his captain bidding him Enter.

Opening the door, he could not see anyone at first. The curtain was pulled over the single porthole and the only light was from the doorway he had just opened.

Quickly, his eyes became accustomed to the deep gloom. He was just getting used to the poor light when there was a loud click and a small bulkhead light illuminated a short settee or day bed, revealing Captain Stanley Lord lying there fully clothed but covered with a rough, grey blanket which was not quite covering his long, lanky legs. These were hanging uncomfortably over the end of his all-too-short resting place. The captain raised himself on one elbow and asked; What is it Wireless?

I have just received a message from Head Office, Sir answered Sparks."

The Captain yawned, stretched his arms and said in a clipped formal tone: Very well! - Thank you. Leave it on top of the chart table there. he ordered, pointing – I’ll have a look at it and let you have a reply if necessary.

Having been dismissed, Sparks carefully closed the chart-room door and went back to the warm comfort of his wireless room.

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Chapter 2

Change of Orders

R ubbing the sleep from his eyes, Captain Lord sat upright and ran his fingers through the dark fringe of hair above his right ear. He got up and walked over to the chart table, unfolded the radio message and read.

Marconi International Marine Co. Ltd., No.44...

SS Californian. Date: 22/3/1912

Handed in at: ......London......

MSG: Captain S. Lord

Change of orders: Immediate STOP

You are required to divert to Royal Albert Dock Port of London STOP

Discharge all cargo and disembark passengers STOP

Further orders forthcoming STOP

Advise ETA Sheerness Pilot STOP

Bridgewater - Marine Superintendent.

The Captain’s first thought was for his poor, long suffering wife and 3 year old son back home in Liverpool. They would be looking forward to his return. Reluctantly, he widened his thought process to include the crew of his ship.

With very few exceptions, his crew either lived or had family, in and around the Liverpool area. As Captain, he had little choice as to what ship he served in, but seamen often tried to get a berth on a ship running regularly to and from their home port. Until now, the Liverpool based Californian, had been running back and forth across the North Atlantic. This latest upset in her routine would not go down well! It had taken quite a time to build the excellent crew he had; now it seemed inevitable that some of them would pay-off at London.

Lord had a great deal of plan-altering to do. There would be an inevitable change to the ship’s engineering and catering department requirements, so the quicker the heads of these departments knew about the altered orders, the better.

Under normal circumstances on a regular run, both departments had almost standard repeat replenishment orders for fuel and victuals. Now, with this diversion, the requirements for coal, catering and other stores would need to be adjusted. But he had even greater headaches. The Californian was a cargo – passenger liner owned by the Leyland Steamship Company. She mainly earned profit for her owners from carrying cargo but also had accommodation for 57 fare-paying passengers. On this trip, she had a full compliment of passengers and a full cargo of cotton from the southern United States. There would be limited but not insurmountable problems with the cargo but people were entirely different kettle of fish.

He could well imagine the outrage, dismay, worry and desperation in equal portions that he would create at the breakfast table the following morning; when he announced the change of plans.

First though, he would have to work out a new course to follow up the English Channel instead of the Irish Sea. Carefully folding the Wireless message; he placed it in his jacket pocket, then switched-on the chart desk light to illuminate the stark white surface of the Admiralty Chart bearing on its lower left hand corner the legend Southern Approaches to The English Channel.

He quickly calculated his ship’s approximate position then measured the distance from it to London.

His change of route would tale him between the Scilly Isles and Lands End, then up the English Channel to Sheerness, where they would embark a Thames Pilot. Thereafter it was a short 20 miles or so run up river to Albert Dock in the port of London. The total distance still to go was close to 457 miles.

Californian could cover 457 miles in a time of 38 hours but the strong Channel tidal streams and river passage had to be taken into account. Under normal circumstances, any opposing tidal currents during the up Channel run might have been partly offset by the usual strong winds blowing up Channel but this was not a normal year. A high barometer since the New Year had influenced Northern Europe and the British Isles.

Easterly winds and Heavy snowfalls throughout January had been the result. Taking all this into account, Lord decided it would be at least 42 hours before his arrival at the Sheerness Pilot. Allowing for another two and a half hours up river would make his estimated time of arrival at Albert Dock near to 8 am on the morning of March 24.

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Chapter 3

London - bound

H aving completed his ETA London calculation, the captain went out onto the bridge and told his Second Officer about the change of orders, then he gave him a new course to steer that would take Californian toward her new destination. Thereafter, he went to the wireless room and had Sparks send two signals; an acknowledgment signal to Head Office and a signal to The London Port Authority; alerting them of the ship’s ETA at the Sheerness Pilot Station. Once he was satisfied that all had been set in motion, Lord returned to his bridge.

Groves, who had been mystified by the sudden change in course, was in no way enamoured by the news that the ship would not now be returning to her home port. He tentatively questioned his captain as to the reason for the sudden change. However, Lord was as much in the dark as were the rest of his crew, so could not give him an answer.

Thereafter, the two men stood on the bridge wing for a few moments, speculating on the change of orders and the navigation problems this diversion up Channel would bring.

Lord had calculated his ship would be passing The Lizard Point light house in just over 7 hrs.

This meant he would be commencing the run up the crowded English Channel during the hours of darkness...a daunting task in daylight never mind during the night. Consequently, he would not be getting much sleep or rest until the ship was safely moored alongside her berth at London. He needed to lie down for a few hours more before the ordeal began.

Right! Mr. Groves, I’ll be off then, and have a word with the Chief Engineer and the Chief Steward. Keep a sharp lookout for crossing vessels from here on in, particularly the sailing kind. With this easterly breeze, I expect the biggest problems will be ships under sail heading in the direction of France. I’ll leave it to you to pass on the good news to the Chief Officer when he relieves you at 4 o’ clock. You can tell him I intend to lie down on my day bed and get some sleep. I’ll be fully clothed though, and ready if I’m needed. You can also tell him I intend standing watch from 8 o’clock onward.

As he headed for the wheelhouse door, Lord gave a reluctant sigh and observed aloud… It’s going to be a long night!

At five minutes to 4 o’clock precisely - the ship’s Chief Officer, George Stewart, entered onto the bridge and relieved Groves.

As always, the changeover was completed by a loud proclamation of bells. The standby Quartermaster rang the wheelhouse bell in the age-old traditional manner; four sets of two rings; a total of 8 bells, and the lookout high in the crow’s nest in front of the ship’s foremast copied what he heard. The cacophony of sounding bells announced to all on board and the surrounding world that the Change of Watch had been officially completed!

The same ceremony would be observed on board all British ships six times every day of every year except one day...New Year’s Day. Then, just after midnight on January the first, the ships bell would ring an additional set of 8 bells. The first set to ring-out the old year and the second, to ring in the New Year.

After the final bell had been sounded and once everyone had settled to their particular task - when the Watch had been formally handed over - Groves passed-on the news about the change of orders.

Stewart’s reaction was the same as that of his captain. Like Lord, his immediately thought was of all the good deck crew he had and of the possibility of loosing a few.

"Yes, Mr. Groves, I saw that in the Captain’s Order Book. Bit of bugger this! I don’t fancy losing some of our boys to London lads. Not that I’ve anything against lads from London, but this lot have been with us for some time and I know exactly how to handle them.

As you know, there’s always a bit of rivalry between a Scouse (Liverpudlian) crowd and the London lads. I can do without that!"

He went on. It’s always the same when you get a mixed crowd. Never mind! Maybe this’ll be a one-off event and we’ll go back to the old Liverpool run again. We’ll just have to wait and see.

The Second Officer’s mind moved in a more personal direction.

I see what you mean sir. At least young Gibson will benefit and of course, me too.

Stewart was puzzled. How did you figure that one out?

Well! explained the younger man. "As you know, back in the States, the Apprentice was promoted to take my place. - when our last Second Officer was taken ashore with the DTs and I was promoted to take his place. So perhaps...since we’re not returning to Liverpool...we will be less likely to change Articles and we’ll both stay in our current ranks?"

That’ll remain to be seen. replied Stewart. We’ll just have to wait and see what transpires. It’ll be up to Head Office.

Shortly after that, Groves left the bridge and went below.

*       *       *

During the next four hours of the 4 to 8 Watch, things began to hot-up. Until 5 pm, the ship had had the ocean to herself, after that, the periods of silence between the rings of Lookout’s warning bell got less and less as more and more ships were sighted heading on their lawful business. Some were seen heading in the same direction as Californian...toward The Channel. Some seen coming from it, and yet others - criss-crossing between the ports of France, England and Ireland.

At 8 o’clock, Stewart was relieved by Captain Lord and the recently promoted Apprentice deck officer James Gibson.

Gibson was 20 years old, and had less than a year left to serve of his Apprenticeship before he could sit his Second Mate’s exam and become a fully qualified ship’s officer. Consequently Lord had decided to exercise a little caution by standing watch with the young man.

Traditionally the 8 to 12 Watch had always been known as The Captain’s Watch, but Californian was entering an area of heavy traffic when anything might happen. It proved to be a wise decision!

Just after 8-15pm, the lookout struck a two-bell warning, indicating that he had seen something on Californian’s port bow. Gibson and Lord raised their night glasses and searched the dark horizon in the general direction indicated.

Immediately they spotted a bright white light, which was extinguished, even as they spotted it.

Did you see that? asked Lord.

Yes sir – about a point on the port bow. There it is again, sir; in the same place!

I expect that will be the Lizard Point Light. observed Lord. "Keep watching; it should flash every three seconds. Check its timing by repeating to yourself: one-and-two-and-three-and- between each flash."

The new Third Officer did as he was bid and sure enough, the light was flashing once every three seconds. A check with the English Channel chart confirmed that as usual, the Captain was right! It was indeed the lighthouse situated on Lizard Point on the South Coast of England; warning mariners to keep clear of the jagged rocks that adorned the base of the cliffs below it. He reported his findings to the Captain.

OK young man, nip up to the Flying bridge and take a bearing of it. It’ll give us an idea of where we are.

Gibson did as he was ordered - climbed the vertical ladder at the side of the wheelhouse, and arrived on the Flying bridge; a wind-swept area of deck above the wheelhouse and in front of the ship’s solitary funnel. Its only protection was a wood bulwark topped by a canvas screen. Situated at its centre - like a fat wooden sentinel topped by a brass cover not unlike a diver’s helmet - stood the ship’s Standard Compass.

Lifting - off the cover, Gibson laid it carefully to one side to reveal the compass card itself. It was illuminated by the dim light of a lamp shining from underneath.

Fitted to the rim of the compass was a sighting contraption consisting of two vertical wires fixed to the opposite sides of a ring – much like the sights of a rifle. The ring was mounted on the rim of the compass bowl and could be swivelled horizontally around it by hand, in a complete circle. By lining-up the two sight wires with a distant object, the direction or bearing from the ship of a light or other object could then be read off from the compass card below.

Gibson had just got the two wires lined-up with the flashing light and was about to read off the bearing from the compass card when he got the fright of his young life.

Right in front of his eyes - ahead and between his ship and the distant flashing light, an entire city of brilliant white lights suddenly appeared. His stomach rolled over and seemed to jump up and lodge in the back of his throat. At the same moment, the Lookout started ringing his warning bell. Three rings meant lights right ahead. Two, indicated lights to port and one ring was for lights to starboard. The result was an almost continuous ringing of the bell. To Gibson, it seemed that the man was warning those on the bridge of impending doom.

Simultaneously, Gibson heard Lord yelling the helm order, which would quickly turn the ship’s head to the right away from the direction of the land and from the direction of greatest concentration of lights.

For what seemed an eternity nothing happened - they were still heading for doom. Then - almost imperceptibly at first - but with gathering momentum, the myriad of white lights ahead of the ship began moving from right to left, as the Californian’s bow obeyed the emergency helm order. Soon the bow was pointing once again toward darkness. However, the new Third Officer’s confidence had been shattered in less than ten seconds.

Not even taking time to replace the compass cover he went to the ladder and, barely touching its rungs, descended at world record speed to the main bridge deck. He was immediately aware of the presence of the Captain beside him. In fact, he had nearly landed on top of the man.

Ahoy there lad; where do you think you’re going? Have we sprung a leak? The second question was asked with the slightest hint of dry humour. Lord finished with: What was that bearing, then?

Suddenly, Gibson wished the darkness could get darker. He was sure that his superior could see the red glow of embarrassment from his cheeks or at least feel the heat from it.

Too late! - In his shock, he had completely forgotten the reason for his journey aloft.

Sorry sir.- he answered weakly. - I got such a fright; I thought I’d better get back down here quickly.- inwardly thinking how silly this answer must sound to the older man.

Seems to me you even forgot to think lad – did you even replace the cover? Lord privately thought his question was a bit unkind seeing as how he already knew that the cover had not been replaced. On the quietened bridge of a ship, the sound of the brass cover being replaced on the overhead compass could always be distinctly heard.

Gibson mentally squirmed. I’ll just go and make sure of the bearing sir and put the cover back at the same time.

Having again taken the bearing of the Lizard light, Gibson carefully placed the top back on the compass; giving it an extra turn and locking it loudly in place so that the sound would inform the no doubt listening Captain Lord that his order had been properly carried out.

Arriving back on the bridge, he told Lord the compass bearing of the light. The latter then went to the chart room and layed off the bearing on the chart.

Returning to the darkened bridge, Lord allowed the younger man to stew in his own juice for a while.

He began in a softer more kindly tone. That gave you a bit of a fright then lad, eh?

Gibson remained mute, still feeling very small and a little stupid but recognising that his superior was about to add an explanation for what had just transpired. After all, he was there to learn - so learn he would. Lord continued:

You have just had your first experience of invoking the wrath of Devon fishermen. We disturbed the trawler fleet out of Brixham, must be at least three hundred of them out there! The smaller lights to the left of the lighthouse will be the mackerel fleet out of Penzance in Cornwall. I’m not surprised to see the Devonshire lads but it’s a bit early for the Cornishmen – I’m told that it’s during the months without an R in them when these fellows are out in such numbers. They’re early this year! He went on: I expect it’s something to do with this unusually clement weather. Seems to have brought them out like flies in summer. Most of these boats don’t use working lights so don’t show them until a big ship gets too close. They obviously thought we were too close! I’ve altered course to the eastward and we’ll go round them. We’ll get back on course once we’re clear.

Gibson was totally amazed. He was not sure whether he was required to comment as an Apprentice, an officer or even at all! He had seldom exchanged more then a few words with the captain of any ship he had served in, and until now, Lord had been no exception! Fair enough he thought – I’m now an officer and as such should probably converse with the Master -- make some intelligent observation. Yet in his mind, he was still the ship’s Apprentice – the lowest form of animal life on board! How to respond then?

He need not have worried. It was obvious that Lord had dismissed the fishing fleet from his mind and was already thinking of the remainder of the voyage and the challenges still to be met before arrival in port.

Before Gibson could come back with what he thought would be an intelligent or witty bit of conversation, Lord, with an air of finality, said:

Right then Lad! That’s her heading clear of everything.

His next remark caused the young man’s stomach to churn with anxiety once again.

I’ll be in the chart-room if you need me, I’m sure that for the time being, you can handle things on your own. With these few words, he disappeared below.

Suddenly, the younger man felt like a first trip Apprentice again; unsafe and very unsure of himself!

He need not have worried. Apart from that first gut wrenching game of dodge-the-danger with the fishing fleets, the rest of his Watch on the bridge was interesting but unmemorable. By the time he handed over to the Groves at midnight, he was beginning to relax and enjoy a fast-growing feeling of confidence.

The remainder of the voyage up Channel was normal no more scares. Except for a brief snooze now and then on his Chart room settee, Lord remained alert. He would maintain his vigil until the ship’s engines were stopped at Tilbury.

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Chapter 4

London

C alifornian arrived at the Sheerness Pilot Station later than intended. The timing of the tides delayed her arrival by 2 hours. Consequently it was 10 am on the morning of March 24 when the ship stopped and the Thames River Pilot boarded to take her up the 20 odd miles of winding river to Royal Albert Dock.

Good morning captain. greeted the Pilot. I trust you have had a good trip?

Yes thank you Pilot. Fine weather all the way!"

The two men continued with the usual exchanges between Pilot and Master. The pilot wishing to know the ship’s handling characteristics and the Master inquiring as to what special arrangements, if any, the Pilot needed. The ship was now continuing up river under full power.

I’ll be leaving you just this side of Gravesend captain. stated the river pilot. At that time, you’ll be boarded by the Tilbury docking pilot. Your lads should be ready for him boarding in just over two hour’s time. The tide’s on the flood so we should make a quick passage up river."

Lord was puzzled by this revelation. Tilbury - you say?

Yes sir, Tilbury.

Hang on a minute; my orders are to proceed to Royal Albert Dock.

Well, on my chitty here, sir, it says you are to pick up the Tilbury Pilot at Gravesend.

First time I’ve heard about that. Lord turned to his Third Officer.

Mr. Gibson! Nip along to Sparks and see if he’s had any messages from head office.

Within a minute, the Third Officer had returned.

Sparks said he has not received any further news from the office, Sir, but that there is wireless traffic for him. We are next on the list. He will bring it to you as soon as he can.

Very well! Thank you Mr. Gibson.

No sooner had Gibson resumed his station beside the engine telegraph that Sparks appeared clutching a Marconi message.

This just arrived sir. he said, handing the message to Lord.

Thanks Wireless!

It was brief and to the point. It simply informed him that Californian had once more been diverted and would now be berthing at the new Tilbury docks.

The Pilot’s estimated time of arrival at Gravesend was spot-on. Two hours later, the Gravesend Pilot cutter was less than a mile ahead. The engine was stopped and the ship slowed down.

The changeover from river to docking pilot was quick and painless.

As soon as the docking pilot arrived on the bridge he informed Lord of the arrangements for berthing the ship.

We’ll be using two tugs Captain - one each end - bow and stern. He pointed up river. As you can see, they are heading for us now. Please ensure your men are ready to take the towlines.

Lord looked the direction indicated and saw two, squat, powerful harbour tugs with fine white bow-wave ‘teeth’ heading straight for the Californian at full speed.

We’re all ready for them Pilot.

The hands had already gone to ‘Stations’ and the ship was ready for berthing. Chief Officer Stewart, assisted by the Bosun and Carpenter, was in charge of operations at the bow and foredeck while