Belfast

I'm not altogether sure why, but I was recently moved to pay a return visit to H.M.S. Belfast, a ship I have visited in the past, probably more than once. A ship on which BH's naval uncle served during the Korean War. A ship which I once knew about as a child taking an interest in the navy, as one of the brightest and best ships in our slimmed down, post war navy. On which slimming down, I also remember being taken on a tour of Portsmouth's inner harbour, probably in the early 1960's, then crammed full of destroyers and frigates which had been mothballed and which were presumably headed for the breakers. Plus the odd dead submarine. Plus H.M.S. Vanguard, our last battleship, tied up at H.M.S Vernon, also headed for the breakers. But I have failed to get a proper fix this morning on where exactly that tying up was, with the most of the place in question having been turned into a housing estate.

The day in question was bright and mild and I made the journey opposite a man of middle years looking very important and sporting a brown corduroy jacket. The sort of jacket that I used to wear fifty years ago, but which you don't see so much of these days. No mask. Perhaps a creative type rather a manager: advertising copy writer?

No Bullingdon's on the ramp at Waterloo, but I crossed over to the Southbank Centre, where the short stand there still had a few. Waterloo roundabout jammed with stationary traffic, which made it easier than it otherwise would have been to cross over into Stamford Street. And so to Tooley Street, to the east of London Bridge station, passing a mixture of full, empty and half-full stands on the way. Stand maintenance not what it used to be. Luckily, there were some spaces on the stand I had headed for.

Where I found that while we might have a shiny new City Hall, they were a bit short of gardeners out back. Unless this was a deliberate rewilding of this bit of open space? Expensively seeded with all kinds of wild flowers?

Otherwise, the whole area was very glossy, with lots of shiny new buildings and lots of public houses, wine bars and restaurants below. Although there did seem to be a dearth of public conveniences before all these places opened up. As it happened, The Horniman at Hays, a Nicholson's house, was open and I was able to take a glass of Cloudy Bay, the first sip of which seemed rather harsh. Second sip rather better. Seven varieties of warm beer, rather more of fizzy. I even heard someone order a pint of Corona tops - that is to say a foreign lager with a good dash of lemonade to kill off its native flavour. While speaking for myself, I never much cared for bitter tops and I very rarely drank lager, topped or otherwise.

All housed in what I believe was an old building, expensively refurbished and fitted out all brown and shiny, a scheme which seems to be fashionable at the moment, being adopted by lots of pubs and restaurants. And the grey pillars might be for real, rather than fakes.

And so onto the London Warship Experience, as it now styles itself, in the care of the Imperial War Museum. I wonder if they will ever change the name of this last to something less imperial, a relic of our sometimes rather inglorious past?

The ship itself was impressive enough, although a little lost against all the new towers across the river. Soon after getting on board, I was taken in charge by a helpful young man, possibly of Middle Eastern heritage if not extraction, who explained that the ship really was afloat, as was proved by its being towed from time to time around to Portsmouth (or perhaps Plymouth) for a wash and brush up. I complained that I could detect no movement, so he further explained that the dolphins (one of which can be seen above) held the ship pretty steady, although during the recent gales there was some movement. For dolphins (and camels) see reference 3.

He may have the chap who explained that one of the ship's two masts was a largely Russian replacement, a gift from President Putin in recognition of the ship's role in the Artic conveys during the Second World War, in particular its role in the Battle of the North Cape, a battle which resulted in the sinking of the German battle cruiser Scharnhorst - with the loss of near 2,000 seamen - rather more than we had lost when H.M.S. Hood was sunk something more than two years previously, in 1941.

The sealing ring on this door was in very much the same condition as that in the bulkhead light which we have above our garage door at home at Epsom. There were similar doors at the top of most of the many companionways, that is to say short step flights of steps taking one up or down a deck. It struck me that they must have had a fair number of accidents when there were lots of people rushing around when the ship was busy.

One supposes that lots of these doors were locked shut when the ship was at action stations, making it fatally easy to be locked in somewhere in the event of fire or worse.

It was very striking how many bits of equipment carried little plates like the one above. Engineering shops dotted all over the country. I imagine that most of them are long gone, leaving most of that sort of thing to foreigners these days.

It was also very striking how many bits of equipment that there were. It must have taken an engineering newbie a while to get up to speed, even if his interests did not spread further than one or two compartments. I associate to Young's famous memoir 'One of our submarines', in which he explains that carrying enemy prisoners was a real pain. There was more or less nowhere in a submarine where there were no taps and levers that could be interfered with by a determined enemy. Perhaps as far as that went, things were a little easier in a ship like the Belfast.

I was amused by the mixture of what at the time was high-tech electronics, brown wood and tubular steel chairs. These last very like the civil service when I started in the early 1970's.

Something to do with one of the six inch gun turrets. Plenty of scope for crushed fingers and worse.

I think this was an electro-mechanical contraption for aiming the six inch guns, presumably somehow collating all the various information coming in about the position of the target and the orientation of the ship.

I think this was the boiler room. No doubt hot, noisy and reasonably dangerous when the ship was busy.

More pipework to commit to memory.

One of the four propeller shafts. I associated to the massive oak riding bitts, somewhere in the middle of H.M.S. Victory, being what transmitted the pull of the anchor cables to the ship - in the same way as this thrust block transmits the push of the propeller.

A cut-away turbine. How similar would an aeroplane engine look?

A puzzle. I noticed a number of these contraptions dotted about, but there was no-one to ask and I didn't think to take a snap of the label which I could read at my leisure. Not that I know any engineers who might know what such a thing is. Some sort of a safety valve?

The dough mixer. There were also potatoes. So pretty much everything else might come from the cold store, but at least there was the possibility of decent bread and decent chips. No doubt some of the seamen from the peripheries gorged on chip buttys.

This last one for my father, who did some years as an army dentist during the war. I don't know when this surgery dates from, but I remember things like the chair, the tower and the tool stand from his days in Cambridge. In the bad old days when the drill was driven by ropes and pulleys - although I do remember him saying that such a drill was better for tricky work, as the drills that replaced them cut too fast. Perhaps things have moved on in the sixty or so years since then.

Top of the range rat trap in the bed being planted up at the foot of one of the glossy buildings in the vicinity. As I recall, the compost they were using was fairly stinky - but perhaps you don't notice if you are with it all day.

Pulled my second Bullingdon of the day and headed back to Waterloo. Passed first by a party rickshaw and second by a party bus. At a red light, the cheerful crew of the latter told me what a good time they would give me if I booked them for my next party.

Thought to give Konditur & Cook (of reference 4) a go, people whom I can't have used for a while, the record suggesting near four years which seems a long time. See reference 5. On this occasion, there did not seem to be that much choice other than plenty of gâteaux with lashings of cream. So I settled for a Simnel cake, which I through would be a Christmas cake lite, but which turned out to be more like a Stollen with lashings of marzipan. OK, but rather dear for what it was.

Stopped at Earlsfield, but passed on the Half Way House, settling for a half moon high in the eastern sky. No aeroplanes seen despite the reasonably good viewing conditions, although one was heard.

Home to ruminate about the choices to be made when restoring and presenting an ancient monument with a long enough working life to have changed quite a bit during that life. Was it ever all of a piece, or did the changes come faster than the builders could cope with? Which version do you put on? If your famous abbey finished up as a cowshed, what do you do about that?

And then to read all about the problems of Paris in the NYRB. With Anne Hidalgo, the Socialist mayor of Paris, snapped above on the French version of a Bullingdon. Trying hard to do something for the environment and something about housing. It seems that her Paris, that is to say Paris within the Le boulevard périphérique, much more constricting than our M25, like London, is in danger of becoming a ghetto for the rich and a destination for tourists, with ordinary people being priced out. I suppose one should not be surprised that cutting a decent path through all the competing interests is no easy task.

References

Reference 1: https://www.iwm.org.uk/visits/hms-belfast. According to the Imperial War Museum.

Reference 2: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/HMS_Belfast. According to Wikipedia.

Reference 3: https://oceanandairtechnology.wordpress.com/2013/05/11/dolphins-mooring-breasting-berthing/.

Reference 4: https://konditor.co.uk/.

Reference 5: https://psmv3.blogspot.com/2018/08/abbey.html.

Reference 6: Bike Lane to the Élysée: The environmentalist policies of Anne Hidalgo, the Socialist mayor of Paris, have transformed the capital. Why is her presidential campaign faltering? - Madeleine Schwartz, NYRB - 2022.

Reference 7: https://psmv5.blogspot.com/2022/03/fake-140.html. A Belfast fake.