“SIR PERCIVALE”
Pennant No. L 3036 International Callsign GVTA Registered LONDON
Previous Name N/A Lloyds Identity No. 6728642
Builder Hawthorn Leslie, (Shipbuilders) Ltd, Hebburn on Tyne.
Launched 4th October 1967 Completed 23rd March 1968
Displacement (Light-ship) 3,270 tons. (Loaded) 5,674 tons.
Measurement Tonnage N.R.T. 2,179. G.R.T. 4,473. DWT 2,404.
Dimensions L.O.A. 413 ft. Beam 59 ft. Draft 13 ft aft.
Main Machinery 2 x Mirrilees National Ltd 10 cylinder marine diesels. 2 shafts. Bow thruster.
Speed 17 knots.
Ships Badge Granted in 1971. Sir Percivale was the brother of Sir Lamorak and guardian of the Holy Grail. He was presented with a lance dipped in blood. His shield displayed a fleur-de-lys. The badge depicts the lance, a gold cup and a fleur-de-lys.
Remarks “SIR PERCIVALE” was a Landing Ship Logistic, (LSL) and the last to be built in the series which included, and has the same details as described for, “SIR TRISTRAM” and “SIR BEDIVERE”.
The “SIR PERCIVALE” was the first British ship to re-enter Port Stanley after victory in the Falkland Islands conflict of 1982.
She was still in service in 1997 and is expected to be replaced by a new class of vessel in 2001-2002.
“SIR PERCIVALE”
14th October 1978 to 6th March 1979
Hong Kong Chinese Crew
Chief Officer
I joined “Sir Percivale” in Liverpool following a direct transfer, at my request, from the “Grey Rover”. She was doing a stint on the Liverpool to Belfast shuttle service, taking troops and their vehicles to and from that troubled Province. The routine was much the same as it had been on the “Sir Tristram”, with periods alongside in Seaforth Docks, between the runs across to a ferry berth in Belfast.
Getting in and out of Seaforth Dock at Liverpool was always a difficult time. On most occasions we took a ‘preferred pilot’, who was experienced in handling these ships, which were shallow drafted and susceptible to drifting in the wind. It was always tricky manoeuvring through the Gladstone Lock system, which lay between Seaforth Dock and the River Mersey. The accommodation section of the LSL’s, which flared out from the hull at the after end because of the flight deck, was constructed of rather vulnerable aluminium. This was in order to reduce top weight and maintain the stability of the ship. However, it tended to buckle like paper if it touched a quay wall. As the ship dropped within the lock system the flight deck edge and safety netting could easily be damaged by the lock walls. To reduce the risk of damage to vulnerable areas, we carried special large inflated fenders to try and keep the ship in the centre of the lock. This meant extra work for the lock staff so we were never very popular with them!
Following a period on the Belfast run we moved down to Marchwood and did several trips between there and the Continent, usually to Antwerp or Ghent in Belgium. We had to go through several lock systems for these Continental ports, but as they were so much larger we rarely had a problem.
Into the New Year, we were tasked to take the Royal Marines from Plymouth to Norway for their usual winter exercises amongst the mountains. This was familiar and beautiful territory, with voyages taking us through the inner leads to Andalsnes, Trondheim and Narvik. We had a couple of scares when the steering gear mysteriously failed, just as we were passing through narrow leads, but otherwise they were busy and interesting trips. Obviously the weather was very cold outside, but we had extra protective clothing for arctic conditions which kept us warm enough out on deck during the discharge and loading phases.
During one of the first calls back to Plymouth I was shown an advertisement from the local newspaper, the “Evening Herald”. The British Transport Docks Board at Millbay Docks were looking for a suitably qualified mariner with a ‘Master’s’ certificate, to take on the post of Assistant Dock Master. This looked very interesting and I wanted to find out more. Good jobs ashore for seafarers, especially from the Deck Department, were few and far between, and yet here was one advertised in my own home town. Although I was becoming a bit unsettled, I knew that my job at sea was fairly secure, with the possibility of a Captain’s job maybe sometime in the future. It was a hard decision to make but I decided to try for the interview and take it from there.
The interview was arranged for a Monday, following a weekend off between trips to Norway. I was surprised and delighted to find that immediately after the interview that I had been accepted. Now I faced an even harder decision – Should I actually accept the post and make the big leap ashore.
Weighing things up, I considered that it might yet be several years before I got a command. For one reason, the RFA fleet was not growing any larger, in fact the opposite looked a possible future trend. This would result in “waiting for dead men’s shoes”. Another reason was that in my opinion the RFA was becoming more and more like the R.N. in the way it was being managed. The impression of being part of a ‘family’, managed by friendly staff in an office who dealt with people rather than just numbers, was slowly being eroded. With so many overseas bases closing down and the British influence abroad being curtailed, I envisaged that more and more time was going to be spent wallowing around the U.K. coast. There would be fewer deployments overseas involving fewer ships. If my job meant that I had to be away from home, I would much prefer being somewhere interesting and warm. On the other hand, coming ashore could mean less job security and certainly a big reduction in my salary.
I decided in the end to take a calculated risk and go for the job in Plymouth. Another chance may never come my way and if it all went pear-shaped I could always go back to sea again. I wrote to Head Office and handed in three months notice. As I had already accrued three months leave due to the time served on both the “Grey Rover” and “Sir Percivale” I would be able to pay off as soon as a relief could be arranged.
My relief arrived after we had completed the Norwegian tasking and I was pleased to see him as we docked at Marchwood Military Port. After a couple of days to hand over the reins to my successor I finally left the RFA on the 6th March 1979.
Thus ended a mostly enjoyable career spanning just over 15 years. During this time I probably travelled hundreds of thousands of nautical miles and visited many interesting parts of the world. I took the opportunity to serve on board a broad variety of ships with widely differing capabilities and tasks. At the same time I was privileged to work alongside all sorts of characters, mostly good and just a few not so good, from many differing nationalities.
Whilst on my travels around the world, I worked in virtually every climate and in all sorts of weather. I’ve experienced deep ocean storms, witnessed the power of waterspouts and sailed on seas of glass. I saw unbelievably beautiful sunsets, experienced the chill of an arctic winter and sailed through antarctic ice. I’ve seen the exceptional visibility from refraction, which lifts distant ships out of the water, I’ve clawed a safe course slowly through clammy blinding fogs and dry dusty sandstorms and smelt the electricity of spectacular lightning displays nearby. At night I’ve seen the aurora borealis and the aurora australis (S. hemisphere), the brilliant phosphorescence from plankton in our wake and night skies so dark and clear that every star was visible, along with a few of those early satellites as they slowly moved across the heavens. I have sailed through seas teeming with flying fish, been escorted by vast schools of dolphins, altered course many times for blowing whales and been circled by menacing sharks whilst at anchor. In mid ocean I’ve seen albatross skimming the waves and exhausted tiny swallows hitching a ride towards the sun. Closer to land I’ve seen squadrons of pelicans and gannets, plummeting into the sea for fish.
All the above are of course natural wonders of our world that I have been privileged to witness. Man-made experiences include very close encounters with other ships in the line of replenishment at sea, and physical contact from a submerged submarine! I’ve stood by a large commercial oil tanker in mid ocean, badly holed after having been involved in a collision, (nothing to do with me!), and rescued the occupants of a light aircraft which ditched close by my ship. I’ve witnessed at close hand, the risky business of fixed wing flying operations aboard an aircraft carrier, flown with some crazy helicopter pilots and worked on the fringes of political unrest. I’ve seen many natural and man-made landmarks and tasted strange food from exotic places. My time at sea was a fascinating period of education, which could never have been achieved by working ashore.
However, I was now about to embark on a totally new career, but coincidentally it was one that took me back to exactly the same place where I had begun my seagoing career all those years ago, to Millbay Docks at Plymouth. It was fifteen years and one month since I had first stepped on board a small boat that took me out to my first ship, the old “Wave Knight”, as she lay quietly at anchor in Plymouth Sound.