The day before yesterday, Royal Navy aircraft carrier HMS Prince of Wales and many of her Strike Group’s ships left their respective bases to form up for the start of a global deployment called Operation Highmast.
I remember what a day like that is like. In the flagship, the ship’s second in command will have entered the bridge, stood to attention and saluted the Captain:
“HMS Prince of Wales singled up on all lines, ready in all respects for sea, Sir.”
“Very good XO, I have the ship… let go all lines”.
And that’s it. Thousands of hours of preparation, training at sea and in simulators, storing ship, safety checks, inducting new joiners, planning and maintenance, all culminating in this moment. As the last berthing line leaves the jetty, the Union Jack is struck at the bow of the ship, tugs and engines are engaged, and it’s time to go and do the job.
This is what deploying feels like. As you pass the families gathered to wave you off, the sadness you felt when you said your personal goodbyes creeps up on you. In command, this will probably be the tenth time you’ve done it and it doesn’t get any easier, but you remind yourself that for a large percentage onboard, it will be their first. Most are in their early twenties. For some, it will be their first lengthy time away from home. A few will be looking at their new, slightly sweary shipboard family and wondering what on Earth they have done. Most will be wondering what adventures this deployment will bring. The veterans know only one thing for sure – what the ships have planned will not be what they end up doing.
But no time for that. First, you have to get the ship clear of the wall and through the harbour entrance. That’s a piece of cake in a frigate, not at all simple in an aircraft carrier. Then you dispense with the tugs, pick up speed and tick off the various landmarks, sea forts and fixing points on the way out to sea until eventually the last piece of land disappears from sight. At this point, the quicker you can consign the departure to memory and get into a seagoing mindset, the better. A tried and tested way to do this is to throw a full-size, full weight orange man figure – traditionally called “Fred” into the water and conduct a man overboard exercise, timing how long it takes to get him back onboard. Then you run a basic fire exercise to test the Standing Sea Emergency Party. This small team will have seen videos and the statistics on what happens if a small fire isn’t put out in the first few minutes, and will have been trained to within an inch of their lives to make sure they can.
The day before yesterday, Royal Navy aircraft carrier HMS Prince of Wales and many of her Strike Group’s ships left their respective bases to form up for the start of a global deployment called Operation Highmast.
I remember what a day like that is like. In the flagship, the ship’s second in command will have entered the bridge, stood to attention and saluted the Captain:
“HMS Prince of Wales singled up on all lines, ready in all respects for sea, Sir.”
“Very good XO, I have the ship… let go all lines”.
And that’s it. Thousands of hours of preparation, training at sea and in simulators, storing ship, safety checks, inducting new joiners, planning and maintenance, all culminating in this moment. As the last berthing line leaves the jetty, the Union Jack is struck at the bow of the ship, tugs and engines are engaged, and it’s time to go and do the job.
This is what deploying feels like. As you pass the families gathered to wave you off, the sadness you felt when you said your personal goodbyes creeps up on you. In command, this will probably be the tenth time you’ve done it and it doesn’t get any easier, but you remind yourself that for a large percentage onboard, it will be their first. Most are in their early twenties. For some, it will be their first lengthy time away from home. A few will be looking at their new, slightly sweary shipboard family and wondering what on Earth they have done. Most will be wondering what adventures this deployment will bring. The veterans know only one thing for sure – what the ships have planned will not be what they end up doing.
But no time for that. First, you have to get the ship clear of the wall and through the harbour entrance. That’s a piece of cake in a frigate, not at all simple in an aircraft carrier. Then you dispense with the tugs, pick up speed and tick off the various landmarks, sea forts and fixing points on the way out to sea until eventually the last piece of land disappears from sight. At this point, the quicker you can consign the departure to memory and get into a seagoing mindset, the better. A tried and tested way to do this is to throw a full-size, full weight orange man figure – traditionally called “Fred” into the water and conduct a man overboard exercise, timing how long it takes to get him back onboard. Then you run a basic fire exercise to test the Standing Sea Emergency Party. This small team will have seen videos and the statistics on what happens if a small fire isn’t put out in the first few minutes, and will have been trained to within an inch of their lives to make sure they can.