REMINISCENCES | Those magnificent unmanned flying machines

It is not often that you read a genuine “good news story” these days, but one that warmed the winter hearts in the UK was the tale of a dog that was rescued from a watery fate on the Channel coast by a drone. The creature had escaped from its owner and was found in the middle of a muddy tidal marsh. It was subsequently led to safety by a freshly cooked pork sausage, dangling on the end of a long string, from a drone. This required great skill on the part of the pilot, both to plot a track through the hazardous marsh and to prevent the hungry terrier seizing the sausage and bringing down the little aircraft.

Drones are becoming really quite useful, increasingly used by the rescue services to spot people who have fallen over cliffs and have got lost in the mountains. It is also good to see that they are becoming used at sea for surveys inside holds and tanks and inspecting inaccessible bits of oil rigs. Rather more robust drones are already employed to carry small stores and documents to ships in the Singapore roadstead.

“Everyone was wearing a safety helmet – something that was not found on many ships in those days.”

There was something of an aviation milestone in recent weeks in the Japanese port of Sakai when a drone was employed to moor an “unmanned” coastal container ship that was undertaking an experimental autonomous voyage. People have wondered for some time about how we are to tie up these autonomous ships that everyone is talking about, when there is nobody aboard to hurl a heaving line ashore as the ship approaches the berth. The Japanese drone was employed to carry a light line from the ship to make the first contact, with, presumably, muscular linesmen then hauling the mooring ropes ashore. Who knows, it may be the start of something big.

They think outside the box in Japan. Years ago I was in the port of Yokohama watching the overnight Sunflower ferry from the north approaching and being astonished to see the chaps on the quay using a powerful line-throwing gun to hurl a heaving line at the mooring gang a good hundred yards away on the ferry’s forecastle. It was more like a missile launcher, and you wouldn’t have wanted to be clouted by the sandbag that had been tied onto the end of the hurtling line. I noted that everyone was wearing a safety helmet – something that was not found on many ships in those days. They clearly seemed to know what they were doing, but I might suggest that the widespread use of these projectile throwers was eventually to be outlawed by “Health ‘n Safety” in other less progressive parts of the world.

In our ships the officers at each end of the vessel on stations for mooring would have always identified “a good man with a heaving line” to expedite the operation and get the first ropes ashore. And indeed a “good man” made it look easy, although being able to hurl a line a considerable distance was quite an accomplishment and not every able seaman could do it, provoking angry noises from the bridge if it landed in the water. I can still recall my attempts as an apprentice, practicing under the tuition of some old Hebridean quartermaster, nearly strangling myself or getting the line everywhere except where it was supposed to land.

“With a little imagination, you can think of plenty of useful tasks in the maritime sector for these unmanned machines.”

We also had to learn how to make heaving line knots, or the “Turk’s Head” knot, which would be used to weight the end of a heaving line and give it a bit of added range. That wasn’t easy, either. If you really wanted to go the distance, as it were, people careless of the harm it might do to the mooring gang on the quay, would insert a weight, such as a rivet head, into the knot. This was very unpopular among those who might be on the receiving end and it was not unknown for angry linemen to whip out their knives and cut the knot off, occasioning a lot of bad language between ship and shore. You had to see their point of view.

Eventually, enlightened port authorities would publish by-laws prohibiting weighted lines, on account of the potential injuries they might cause. This was cheaper – sarcastic folk said – than providing their staff with a safety helmet.

Could a drone, flown from either ship or shore, become just another item of equipment in the 21st century maritime world, with an able seafarer doubling as a licensed drone pilot on every ship’s articles? That might seem a bit fanciful, but with a little imagination, you can think of plenty of useful tasks in the maritime sector for these unmanned flying machines.

Submissions wanted! Do you have an exciting, amusing, or downright dangerous anecdote from your time in the maritime world? Send your submissions to: [email protected].