Transforming RMS St Helena into MNG Tahiti comes with many technical risks
MANY recall lazy days, reclining on the sun deck, afternoon tea and biscuits in the lounge, dining in relaxed, yet traditional liner style in the well-appointed saloon, and the good old-fashioned shipboard evening entertainment during a voyage in the RMS St Helena. Surrounded by the pleasant and efficient service of the Island’s best, passengers were guaranteed a holiday to remember.
According to a brief statement that came through the ether last week, a new role for the old lady will begin shortly. The former British mailship, the statement proclaimed, had been bought by MNG Maritime “which offers logistic support, accommodation, storage, training and transfer services, operating in Red Sea, Indian Ocean, Malacca Strait, and SE Asia”.
The statement added that the company supplies sea-based floating armories in its operational regions. These are euphemisms for anti-piracy operations.
The statement concluded with the news that St Helena would be renamed MNG Tahiti and, for the first time, the vessel will steam through waters beyond the Atlantic Ocean. Wherever her new operations take her – and I am guessing now – she will probably spend time hove to in international waters near a major shipping lane to serve as a floating transfer point for antipiracy teams to board passing ships that are heading to known piracy areas.
Ships emerging from those pirate-infested areas can disembark their protection teams who, after a brief spell of rest, will board another pirate-area-bound vessel.
Replacing the elegant steamer shoes of the island-bound passengers will be the boots of former military heavies, embarking on rubber ducks to be transferred to passing ships needing protection during the passage through known piracy hot spots.
The evening chatter aboard MNG Tahiti will perhaps be less elegant when the macho-men gather around the bar, while the genteel past-time of clay-pigeon shooting over the stern will probably be replaced by machine-gun and sniper practice, aimed at targets in the water – just to keep the security agents on their toes.
Sadly, anti-piracy protection has become an essential service for ships plying routes such as the Red Sea-Indian Ocean, the Straits of Malacca or West Africa, where seaborne gangs still attempt to hijack or rob passing vessels, or kidnap crew members for ransom. They concentrate on slower ships such as laden tankers, bulkers or smaller vessels with low freeboards, making boarding from their skiffs easier.
With 28 winters in her wake, the old mailship will need careful operation and maintenance. Given her history of machinery problems, her British-made Mirrlees engines will need experienced engineers to keep them running reliably, while most of her other machinery and equipment is also British.
However, as many British marine engineering works have since disappeared, spares and technical support are unavailable, requiring a ship manager and technical folks with knowledge of the market, and who are prepared to search for the right parts – or have them made. Without such attention, the old lady will not last long.
Piracy aside, the oceans are becoming crowded with warships, not simply to “show the flag” as an advertisement for trade, but with the deliberate intent to send bellicose signals to others. Many navies are being strengthened with a zeal not seen since World War 2.
Consider the build-up of sea power in the eastern Mediterranean, in the approaches to the Arabian Gulf and in the Gulf itself, as well as China’s curious – but very ominous – island construction programme in the South China Sea (a euphemism for the establishment of strategic military bases). Add to that President Trump’s impulsiveness, Russian intransigence over Syria and ongoing international terrorism, all of which do not augur well for peace on our planet.
A knee-jerk response by a twitchy naval commander can transform any of these already volatile situations into a major conflagration.