# and a Happy New Year too!



## grandpa1940 (Mar 8, 2015)

Many years ago, I was a ‘Lecky’, an electrical engineer officer on a P&O tanker heading north from Nigeria with 60 thousand tonnes of ‘Bonny’ crude. It was New Year’s day, and, feeling no pain at all after a very wet party to welcome in the New Year, all off-watch officers (Engineers and Deck alike) had been invited onto the bridge by the Captain. It was more a social occasion than a formal meeting, and we were all relaxed. The Third Mate was on watch, together with one Deck cadet and two crew members, one at the steering position. The sun was shining; the seas were flat calm, coffee and biscuits were served, the Captain was avuncular and joking, all seemed well. 

The Third Mate, binoculars raised, stated ‘Ship on horizon’, and after consulting our radar plot, stated that ‘he was fairly certain we did not need to alter course, but would pass comfortably starboard to starboard, needing no course alteration’. The Captain called out to the two other deck cadets to haul out the bunting flags, and get ready to wish the ship a ‘Happy New Year’ with the flag hoists, and also got the Third Mate to check the Engine room if air was available for the siren, so as to salute the approaching ship as we passed her.

The cadets rigged the bunting flags with the Second Mate’s help, and climbed up onto the Monkey Island to raise the signal. The approaching ship was Greek by registry, somewhere around fifteen thousand tons, and we were fast approaching her. As we drew level, about two full ship lengths apart, the flags were raised, the Captain sounded the siren, and we all waved at the uniformed figures on the other ship.

We had JUST literally cleared her stern when, without any warning whatsoever, our steering went hard over to starboard, our tanker which was travelling at twenty knots literally heeled over and cut through the other ship’s wake about a ship’s length behind her. Panic on the bridge, as two deck officers attempted to spin the small steering wheel hard to Port, but nothing was happening: somehow seemingly an airlock had jammed the telemotor gear, and we were literally out of control. I jumped to the remote control panel, and pressed the ‘start’ button for the stand-by steering gear motor in the faint hope that something, anything, would work, the steering gear became unlocked and easy again, and we returned to our northerly course. 

The VHF system pinged, and an accented voice from the Greek ship asked, “Have we in some way offended you?”


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