M.V. TRI ELLIS
IMO 5368196
This vessel was Built in 1958 by Harland and Wolff Ltd for the British Phosphate Commissioners in Australia. It’s main engine, was a six Cylinder Harland and Wolff Opposed Piston Diesel Engine. 6500 BHP single Screw. One exhaust driven
Turbocharger was fitted. She was placed on BPC’s Melbourne, Pacific Islands, Nauru and Auckland trade and had accommodation for 15 passengers. She was built so that the vessel could carry both general cargo and/or bulk Phosphate at any given time.
Foreword
The events related here in this story took place in the mid 70’s, and I dare say that despite my best endeavours at recalling them, they could contain some errors.
The Australian Institute Of Marine and Power Engineers in Melbourne contacted me, and inquired whether I would be interested in serving on her as the ‘relieving’ 5th
engineer. The added bonus was that I possibly could become ‘permanent’ after a certain length of service. As a general rule we did 8 to 12 week stints. About 3 weeks later after signing on at the Shipping Office I climbed up the gangway of the ‘Tri Ellis.’
My first impressions of the ship were that she was a stunning looking vessel from all angles. My cabin was well appointed, had its own shower and toilet, and compared to some of the smaller vessels I had served on, was huge. Someone had gone
through an awful amount of trouble at making, creating and designing the Officers bar to be as welcoming as possible. There seemed to be a ‘homely’ feeling to be on board the Tri Ellis, and I was happy to have been given the opportunity to serve on her.
I had never had the opportunity to serve on a vessel which was powered by a H&W diesel engine. I was going to be pleasantly surprised in many ways! A ‘Harlands job’ as it was affectionately called, is reasonably similar in appearance to a Doxford opposed piston diesel. In this case, ‘6’ upper pistons ‘danced’ up and down when under way. The top pistons were ‘connected’ to the crankshaft by a long ‘top piston connecting rod’, but unlike a Doxford that had a ‘crank’ for the top piston, the
Harlands job ran an ‘eccentric bearing’. I also learned that this main engine had an affinity to create ‘scavenge fires’ and that a new scavenge firefighting system had been recently installed. We had 3 or 4 (memory a tad hazy here!) 400KW
Generators which provided power to keep the lights on. Due to the fact that we carried passengers a ‘pressurised’ toilet flushing system was in use. Most of the engineers were from Melbourne whom I had met at various A.I.M.P.E. meetings, which made life on the Tri Ellis rather good. I was placed on watch with the 3rd Engineer Barry on the 12 to 4 watch. He hailed from Perth and was one of natures gentlemen. I remember Bob working on the ‘remote boiler water level indicator’ on the exhaust gas boiler, which seemed to throw its hand in every so often, at the most inappropriate times! The amount of ‘heat from the engine exhaust’ allowed into the boiler to ‘increase or decrease’ the steam pressure, was controlled by a huge ‘gate valve’ on other ships I served on, but as I cannot remember doing this on the Tri Ellis, I am assuming that it was automatically adjusted.(?)
Leaving Melbourne we headed for Christmas Island, and that was when, in my opinion, the wisdom of the guys that designed and built the Tri Ellis at Harlands came to the fore. She seemed to move gracefully and as smooth as silk through the waves with a minimum of roll. Moving into a ‘head-on’ swell did not seem to
bother the vessel at all, as she seemed to cut through the waves with ease. The vessel was, comparatively speaking, a ‘quiet’ ship, with virtually none (or very little) of the noise from the engine room transmitted ‘through’ to the cabins. The
passenger deck above us was even quieter, and several passengers made mention of this in their ‘How did you enjoy your trip form’. We had no passengers on this trip. I would like to digress here for a moment, and share my experiences and talk about the different ways vessels react to rolling and pitching at sea. Some ships in heavy seas when rolling will, start to roll to port or starboard slowly...but return back to the original position at what seems like breakneck speed! On the other hand a ship will start to roll quite rapidly, and then return to original position oh so very slowly! I never preferred either one! I experienced being on the B.P. Enterprise (full to the
brim with a load of crude from Barrow Island) when she was caught in some rather heavy weather, and was moving dead ahead straight into a heavy swell On several occasions the bow, and about 30 meters of the forward deck, disappeared under water. Moments later, seemed like an hour! The fore-peak slowly reappeared shaking the excess water off it!
On the trip to Christmas Island, which took around 12 days, the weather treated us kindly and one gets used to the ‘watch on/watch off’ and the days often become a blur. There is however, one image which will always be indelibly branded on my mind. I happened to be on the aft deck after tea as we sailed into the setting sun, accompanied by the deep throb of the Harlands doing about 95rpm, when I
happened to look out over to the port side and saw about 500 dolphins, moving with perfect unison in the same direction as the ship. They were about half a kilometer away. It has been times like this at sea, that has made all the effort of being away from home etc really worthwhile.
At Christmas Island we unloaded several bits of cargo and took on several other bits destined for Albany, in Western Australia. We loaded Phosphate and 5 days later set sail for Albany.
About 2 days out of Albany, I came down to the engine room at around 23.50hrs to start the 12 to 4 watch and was standing at the ‘log desk’ with the 6th when Barry the
3rd Engineer appeared, and asked the 6th whether they had had any problems with
one of the Lube Oil purifiers which tended to ‘lose its seal’ rather frequently. He then told us that he would go and check the purifier himself to make sure all was well. We stood chatting at the ‘log desk’ for a while as Barry moved away out of sight around the main engine. Ten or so minutes passed and Barry had not
returned, so I decided to wander around to the purifier room see if all was well. As I turned around the main engine, I spotted Barry lying face down on the plates
perfectly still. Rushing to check his breathing I found his breathing very shallow and pulse quite faint.
Racing back I yelled at the 6th who had not left the engine room, to call the Bridge
and get the 2nd Officer (Ships Doctor?) down quickly. He panicked a bit I suppose,
and instead of calling the Bridge, ended up pressing the Big Red Button, which someone had named “Red Alert”. This button was only meant to used in emergencies when conditions were dire/extreme. I was not aware of what this button actually activated being new and all that!! Located right throughout the vessel on each deck, were ‘sirens’ similar to the Police sirens some of us might have heard once or twice! Added to that, a couple of flashing lights on each decks were activated. As far as I am aware, the main kill switch was in the ‘engine room’ and could only be stopped from there, isn’t technology amazing!! Hooters which
seemed to have a strange ‘ethereal’ sound came on as well. The 6th finally did
manage to call the Bridge and ask the 2nd Officer to come down to the engine room.
Most ships, new ones anyway, had a lift that went to all decks from the engine room. I somehow remember that if the ship listed/rolled more than 25 degrees either way the lift mechanism would stop the lift to prevent damage.
All engine rooms as far as I am aware, have a phone or ‘hot-line’ to the Chief Engineers cabin, and he the same to the engine room! When the Chief called the engine room, there were a number of particular alarms and flashing lights that came on, indicating that it was, in fact, the Chief that wanted to have a quick word! I raced back to Barry to check and found he was still breathing but unconscious. Putting a small pillow under his head I left him where he was and asked the greaser to keep an eye on him. The 6th being a caring human being, asked me if it would be
OK to place a blanket over him while the ‘Doctor’ was getting his act together. I explained (I think it was through clenched teeth) to him that it was 55 degrees in the engine room on a cool day, and that was under the blower, how much warmer do you think he needs to be. And then to top it all off the Chief called, I restrained myself from saying, “Gooday Chief hows it goin”? He yelled down the phone and said “Can someone please tell me what the (expletive) is going on”??? And who pressed that Red Alert (expletive) button, there better be a good excuse.”
I remember vaguely saying, “Well, Barry’s a bit crook Chief” But luckily I was saved from further discussion as the lift clanged to a stop, the three doors opened and the 2nd Officer stepped out complete with a Stethoscope around his neck and another
blanket!!! I quickly handed the phone to the 6th and said ‘the Chief wants a word
with you’. Very soon after that the Lecky hit the kill switch and all alarms and flashing lights stopped. As one can understand, by now a lot of folks were down in the engine room and it was getting a tad squeezy.
Barry was quite unwell, but at least his breathing had improved somewhat, so the 2nd Officer suggested we get him up to his cabin. But that was easier said than done.
In my experience, the lifts on most ships are not known for their spaciousness, or comfort. The lift was 2M by about 2M. At a push one could get 4, maybe 5 healthy men into an engine room lift comfortably. More than that number could possibly make some folks somewhat uneasy! We put Barry onto a stretcher and carried him towards the lift, but found that the stretcher was ‘longer’ that the size of the lift. The only way that we could get Barry, who was semi-conscious, into the lift, was to stand the stretcher almost vertical. So, without much further ado, we lashed Barry to the stretcher, managed to get him into the lift, and hit the officers level button.
We finally got Barry to his cabin and left him in the care of the Captain, Chief
engineer and 2nd Officer. By then it was around 01.30hrs. We decided that I would
finish the 12 to 04.00 watch with the 6th and sort the hours out later that the
morning. A ‘shore based’ Medic, that the Captain had spoken to earlier on, suggested that Barry have full bed rest till the vessel arrived in Albany. When I visited Barry later on that morning to see how he was travelling, he was still a tad groggy, but in good spirits. When the vessel arrived in Albany, Barry was whisked off to the local hospital and life returned to normal, sort of. If my memory serves me correctly, a relieving 3rd Engineer joined the Tri Ellis in Albany.
I never met Barry again, but was told several months later that due to medical complications he was advised not to go back to sea. The 6th engineer was
congratulated for his actions and was considered to be the ‘hero’ in this episode, despite the fact that he had woken every man jack up in 3 milliseconds on that night!
“I am a part of all that I have met and experienced; Yet all experience is an Arch”……..‘Ulysses’ by Alfred Lord Tennyson.
Thanks to Alan Rawlinson for allowing me to share a small part of my sea going experience with you guys.
May all be well. Michael Smith