The summer before I went to college, I was not so worried about leaving home for the first time, I was concerned I did not have what it took to be a good Naval Officer. My doubts came when I received a letter about O-week. This was an orientation, I learned, about life as a Naval ROTC midshipman. I figured it would be a nice way to get to school early and get my bearings. The doubts came when I heard that it was some sort of boot camp where upperclassmen attempted to break-in lubbers. I thought I had it over all of them, since I lived in the Navy for my entire life.
I grew up in the shadow of my Grandfather who was a warrant officer and then LDO, and my step-father who was a chief and LDO in the Navy. Both of them came to the Navy from two different generations. The Navy of my Grandfather was a collegial place – he was in the submarine community. My stepfather’s Navy was bogged down in seemingly petty politics – of who said what at the wardroom table or “college boys” looking down on my stepfather because he did not have the formal education they had. From my perspective, a Naval Officer had dignity about them, were detail-oriented, and honorable to a fault. I felt as though I was a good fit for the role.
One of the first things we did at O-week was to get our photographs taken for ID cards. Name placards were made and we were handed a pile of clothes. My first evening at college was spent polishing my shoes. I taught others around me how to do it since I had been polishing shoes for years. We were also shown how to iron our khakis. I too had this down from years of practice.
The PT in the morning was annoying but bearable. The marching up and down sidewalks in tight formation felt silly. In the classroom, we were constantly being yelled at for the smallest of mistakes. One of my fellow inductees was reamed out for not knowing the NATO alphabet having only been told it once. I did lots of pushups because I called a fellow with a name plaque that read Moran, “moron.” He didn’t like that. I was forced to remove my name plaque and replace it with one emblazoned with the name “Abercrombie.” I had to spell it at a moment’s notice in the NATO alphabet. I never stumbled spelling ALPHA BRAVO ECHO ROMEO CHARLIE ROMEO OSCAR MIKE BRAVO INDIA ECHO – my childhood was spent staring at signal flags and studying the military.
I understood what they were attempting to do: to break me. Despite what might be called hazing, I was motivated to excel. They could not break me.
One evening, though, I realized I didn’t want to be part of the Navy, not this Navy. This realization came when I was sitting in my room and I overheard upperclassmen saying how they couldn’t wait to have a taste of fresh meat. As their conversation continued, I realized they were talking about a group of young women in our group and they went into lurid detail about how they planned on getting them drunk and showing them a “real man.” My head burned with anger. I knew I would not be able to bear being around other students referring to incoming first-year women as fresh meat. The next day, I gathered up the courage and told the unit’s CO I just didn’t have what it took and wished to separate from the unit. Later that afternoon, I gave the Yeoman all my uniforms and called my parents. I felt like a complete failure.
I was given a pair of boards by the Yeoman in parting. He thought I was a good kid. They were apparently antique.
In retrospect, I should not have left on some made-up excuse, in that I didn’t feel I was cut out for the Navy. I should have told the CO I was disgusted with my classmates and I found their comments abhorrent. I should have been an ally to the young women who were participating in O-week. However, I wasn’t mentally prepared to say what I needed to say. What I heard instead were shades of my stepfather’s comments toward women and this was a culture not for me.
A couple of years after I left NROTC I bumped into a fellow midshipman. We chatted a bit, he was planning on becoming an aviator, and I was just accepted to grad school. When I told him a regretted dropping out, he told me I would never have made it anyway – my problem was that I was too sensitive and I needed to toughen up. The Navy had no place for an officer like me. I asked him about the young women in the program – in a low voice he told me one of them was sexually assaulted, but it was all hush-hush.
Current ship wardroom plaques, otherwise known as ship’s plaques or ship’s emblems, or formally as ship’s badges came from an old tradition that reaches back to the age of sail. As a means of identification, sailing ships used carved figureheads as a distinguishing feature; however, with the move from sail to steam, there was no place on the prow or the bow to place ornate carvings. Utilitarianism eventually won out over embellishment and on haze-gray hulls became painted dull numbers and names. Yet, sailors wished to hold on to tradition and over time developed a system of naval heraldry; similar to, but distinct from that of landsmen.
Ships’ badges first appeared on United Kingdom Royal Navy vessels in the 1850s. Originally, they were found on ship’s stationery, and this innovation came to mark the small boats assigned to a ship and also the ship itself, on the bridge. The Admiralty decided to reign in the rather haphazard means of creating badges and appointed its first advisor on naval heraldry in the person of Charles ffoulkes, then curator of the Imperial War Museum, in 1918. He picked up the mantle of the Ships’ Badge Committee. Their main innovation was the use of a visual means to determine the class of ship or establishment by shape of badge: circular (battleships and battle cruisers), pentagonal (cruisers), U-shaped shield (destroyers), and diamond (shore establishments, depot ships, small war vessels, and aircraft carriers).
By 1940, the designs for all ships were standardized to a circular design. This was due to the bureaucratic nightmare of re-use of names on newly commissioned ships requiring re-configuration of badges to match ship type. Post-war, After the war, the pentagonal badge shape was assigned to Royal Fleet Auxiliary vessels and the diamond to commissioned shore establishments. RRS ship also used a circular configuration badge was noted in the example of the RRS Shackleton.
The RRS Shackleton was in service with the Falkland Islands Dependencies Survey (FIDS)/British Antarctic Survey (BAS) from 1955/56 until 1968/69. Her role was primarily that of a survey and science vessel, supporting marine geophysics programs. Originally named the Arendal, she was built in 1954 at Sölvesborg in Sweden for Arendals Dampskibsselskab, Norway. In August 1955, she was bought by FIDS for £230,000, and further strengthened for work in sea ice. She was renamed RRS Shackleton by Mrs. Arthur, wife of the then Governor of the Falkland Islands and Dependencies, in a ceremony at Southampton on 19 December 1955.
Her namesake is Sir Ernest Shackleton, 1874-1922, one of the most famous figures from the Heroic Age of Antarctic Exploration. Sir Shackleton served on Scott’s Discovery Expedition (British National Antarctic Expedition) 1901-04, he led the Nimrod Expedition (British Antarctic Expedition) 1907-09 but is most well-known for the Endurance Expedition (Imperial Trans-Antarctic Expedition) 1914–17 – a remarkable story of survival against the odds. Sir Shackleton died during the Quest Expedition (Shackleton-Rowett Antarctic Expedition) 1921-1922, and is buried in the whalers’ graveyard at Grytviken, South Georgia.
From 1969, the RRS Shackleton was operated by BAS’s parent body, NERC (Natural Environment Research Council) as an oceanographic research vessel. Under NERC ownership she carried out geophysical and marine geology cruises in Antarctic waters until being withdrawn from service in May 1983 and sold.
Technical specification Lloyds classification: 2-3 for ice Dimensions: length 200 ft 6 ins; breadth 36 ft 1 ins Loaded displacement: 1658 tons Gross tonnage: 1102 tons Propulsion: diesel engine, 785 SHP Speed: service speed 12 knots Port of registry Stanley, Falkland Islands
A second ship was also named after Ernest Shackleton in 1999 – the current RRS Ernest Shackleton.
For my son’s completion of his first week of Second Grade, I gave him a small gift: a legal tender coin from the British Antarctic Territory (BAT). He asked me where this place was, and we searched for it in his world atlas and flag gazetteer. Since the international community does not recognize BAT, his atlas did not have the Territory outlined. I drew an imaginary wedge for him over a wide swath of Antarctica. “It’s such a far way away, on the bottom of the world!” he said. I explained to him the Territory has no permanent residents and is dotted with a few research stations. “People get there by plane or ship,” I mentioned and then told him the story of the British Antarctic Survey. I showed him a British Antarctic Survey cap badge from the 1970s, and its predecessor’s the Falkland Islands Dependencies Survey from the late 1940s. He asked me if either were rare. I said the FIDS cap badge is rarest in my collection. He was more interested in the coin with penguins, a whale, and the Queen.
The British Antarctic Survey’s (BAS) history, due to its mission and unique circumstance, mirrors that of the United Kingdom’s polar adventures. It may trace its immediate lineage to the halcyon days of heroic exploration by Shackleton and Scott, and Second World War secret Royal Naval expeditions of Operation Tabarin I and II. The present organization, first as he Falkland Islands Dependencies Survey (FIDS) answered to the Colonial Office, and then later as British Antarctic Survey to the National Environment Research Council (NERC). Through these organizational permutations, the ships themselves remained Royal Research Vessels, and mariners civilian. This essay will briefly sketch the history of BAS and then concentrate on the organization of a BAS ship with a discussion of BAS Officer insignia.
British scientific interest and exploration of the South Pole began in earnest during the early 1830s with the charting expeditions of John Biscoe. Following him, the Royal Society and Admiralty, through private donation and public subscription, brought a small, but steady stream of explorers to the Antarctic. These heroic men-of-science, experiencing the extremes of human endurance, ventured to the continent and its surrounding seas questioning everything from geologic history to ionosphere behavior and photo-plankton life-cycles. Ships of the period were whalers, borrowed naval ships, and the rare purposefully refitted vessel. Each carried men and materièl to the great ice-shelf and battered polar islands, and sometimes purposefully (or not) acted as an ice-bound wintering-over base. Once the explorers came to understand the landscape and how to endure the elements, did survey work and dashes to the interior give way to the foundation of research camps. At the turn of the last century, Antarctica played host to scores of international researchers during this heady time – with Great Britain leading the pack. Then came the Great War momentarily halting Antarctic exploration. The death of Ernest Shackleton in 1922 heralded the end of the Heroic Age of Polar Exploration. After Shakleton came a new generation of British explorers – for them, scientific curiosity tempered by national prestige became the new face of exploration. In this era, the independent amateur adventurer bowed-out to the Royally-warranted researcher. It is at this juncture when the Royal Research Ship or Vessel – with alternate prefixes RRS, RRV or RARV – took the stage.
King Edward VII visit to RRS Discovery, 5 August 1901
National Antarctic Expedition envelope stamp, 1901
The Royal Charter of research vessels began with the 1923 Crown purchase of the Discovery for the Royally-warranted 1925 Discovery Expedition. This ship was the same three-master which carried Robert Falcon Scott and Ernest Shackleton on their 1901-1904 expeditions. With the refitting of the Discovery, the Colonial Office and Admiralty did not create a unique flag nor for the ship; however, as a Royal Research Ship (RRS), the Discovery wore an undefaced Blue Ensign, following the custom at the time of ships in the employ of the government. In a later expedition, in addition to the Blue Ensign, RRS Discovery wore a white flag; this was flown from the foremast as a courtesy flag for the continent, which lacked a flag.
White Flag of Antarctica. Col.: Royal Museums Greenwich [AAA0895]
Beginning with the success of RRS Discovery and her crew, the Crown continued its patronage and has warranted research vessels for work in the Antarctic region through the present day. The purpose of the RRS Discovery and those that followed was to provide a support platform for scientific endeavors in and around the Antarctic. And as state property, this rated the ship to fly the Blue Ensign. With the Admiralty chartering the RRS Discovery to scientific expeditions, a precedent began where RRS vessels in turn were manned by individuals under contract by the organizations which used the vessels; this is akin to a classic bare-boat charter. After the Second World War, the face of Antarctic exploration became two-prong: doing scientific research and asserting territorial claims (albeit tempered by treaty obligations). In this period, the Colonial Office tasked the newly-created Falkland Islands Dependencies Survey (FIDS) to provide continuous Antarctic exploration support for Commonwealth nations, but the primary mission for FIDS was survey work. In 1962, following the success of the 1958 International Geophysical Year, Britain’s emphasis on activities in Antarctica became oriented toward scientific research rather than survey. This saw the dual creation of the National Environmental Research Council (NERC) with its subordinate organization of the British Antarctic Survey (BAS). BAS saw to the support of the British scientific mission in Antarctica.
2 February 1950. A relief party from the RRS John Biscoe is rescuing two British Scientists who have been on Stonington Island. Col.: IW
Shipboard organization & insignia
In its various guises the BAS fleet was never very large, and ships’ crew few. These individuals were (and are) members of the British Merchant Navy and as such are British or British nationals of one sort or another. Until the mid-1970s, the Master of a BAS ship employed and paid all Petty Officers and Ratings. All Officers were and still are recruited through BAS Headquarters in London and later Cambridge. During the period when the fleet was operated by FIDS, many a ship’s crew member was a Falkland Islander. These days, with off-season dry-docking in the British Isles, this is no longer the case. BAS continues to maintain a very close link with the Falkland Islands, and despite not being primarily crewed by Falkland Islanders, BAS ships arrange many official and social functions.
They are also used by the UK Government for official functions such as Royal Reviews, Open Days and London Visits, coupled with their close links with HMS Endurance/Protector and the United Kingdom Hydrographic Office.
Personal correspondence, Stuart Lawrence, 2011.
At this writing (2011), there are two Royal Research Vessels chartered for use by BAS, the RRS James Clark Ross and RRS Ernest Shackleton. Their respective compliment is 80 (11 Officers, 15 Crew, 1 Doctor, and 52 Scientific Personnel) and 72 (22 Officers/Crew and 50 Scientific Personnel). They are run as standard British Merchant Navy vessels with their organization an outgrowth of a century-old tradition of a division of ship navigation and cargo handling, propulsion, and victualing. As such, each member of the crew has a highly circumscribed role with no overlap in responsibilities among them. All members of the crew work as a team within their group; however, if holding a specific trade, a crewman works within that trade in conjunction with their Department – in other words, a motorman would not find himself in catering. This classic departmental division is also found on Royal Navy vessels, but that is where the similarity both begins and ends – BAS ships, despite being subject to Admiralty rules, have no connection with the Royal Navy; although, in theory a reserve Royal Navy officer may serve onboard, but not in the capacity of a warrior.
The RRS James Clark Ross and the RRS Ernest Shackleton operate in different ways, hence the difference in compliment. Both will move scientists around and act as supply vessels, delivering all the equipment that is required to run an Antarctic Base. The RRS James Clark Ross tends to the small island of Signy (summer only), Bird Island, and South Georgia, as well as the serving as the main relief for Rothera Research Station. The RRS Ernest Shackleton does the relief of Halley Research Station each year and then visits the smaller BAS bases. Both ships take waste and mail as and when required.
Using the RRS James Clark Ross as our model (the RRS Ernest Shackleton has a different manning level due to the type of vessel), the onboard organization is comprised of Deck, Engineering, and Catering Departments; respectively, each has its province in the superstructure, amidships and the galley.
The Master of the ship has command of the vessel and is the overall commanding officer. On the RRS James Clark Ross, he is dubbed the traditional “Old Man.” He is not a member of any one department since all report to him. Each of the Departments’ compliment with responsibilities is as follows:
Deck
A BAS ship’s Deck Department run by a Chief Officer, with a Second, Third, and Fourth Officers. It has a Boatswain, Bosun’s Mate, Launchman as Petty Officers, and four Able Seamen and four Deck Boys as Ratings. In 2011, the RRS James Clark Ross had the following:
Chief Officer – The executive officer of the ship. Involved in the quotidian concerns of the Deck Department. He is also responsible for the stability of the ship, loading and discharging cargo, and feeder boat operations.
Second Officer – Responsible for the passage planning and maintaining the chart portfolio, including navigational corrections.
Third Officer – The most junior Deck Officer is responsible for maintaining much of the Life Saving Equipment.
Boatswain (Bosun) – In charge of the Deck Crew. His is not a licensed officer’s position (likewise as are his subordinates); for Americans readers, an approximate US Navy relative position would be that of Chief Petty Officer.
Bosun’s Mate – This position is subaltern to that of the Boatswain. With the absence of a “Chippy” (Ship’s Carpenter) and a “Lampie” (Lamptrimmer), in addition managing the deck crew in the absence of the Bosun, his responsibilities involve sounding the all the freshwater and ballast tanks.
AB’s (Able Seamen) – On the RRS James Clark Ross, they are the general deckhands. The ship carries five.
Engine
The Engine Department run by a Chief Engineer, with a Second, Third and Fourth Engineers, Electrical, and Radio Officers (now Electro Technical Officers), a Donkeyman as a Petty Officer, and three Greasers (Motormen) as Ratings.
Chief Engineer – His responsibilities include overseeing all aspects of the ship’s propulsion and internal mechanics.
2nd Engineer – Responsible for the day to day running of the Engine Room.
3rd and 4th Engineer – Assist the 2nd as required and directed.
Deck Engineer. Responsible for scientific and supporting equipment, such as winches and gantries.
Radio Officer – Operates the communications equipment. He is known colloquially aboard the RRS James Clark Ross as the “Comms man” – the common nickname for the position is “Sparks.” He is located in the Radio room, and not the Navigational bridge; he is in the organizational purview of the Engineering Department, yet reports to the ship’s Master.
ETO(L) – Electrician. Responsible for all the electrical equipment onboard.
ETO(C) – Communications (Radioman). Maintains all communications and navigational equipment. The two ETO’s work in tandem with some jobs being covered by both.
Donkeyman – Is the Petty Officer in charge of the Motormen. He manages and performs engineering tasks allowing the licensed Engineer Officers to execute more difficult jobs.
Motormen – They are highly skilled unlicensed crewmembers; in terms of position, are crucial to the function of the Engine Department. They are called “Greasers.” Prior to the advent of modern training, they were the “old hands” who would undo the mistakes of younger or less experienced engineers as well as serving in the traditional role of providing extra hands. On the RRS James Clark Ross there are two.
Catering
Catering Department run by a Chief Steward (now a Purser Catering Officer). Under him are a 2nd Steward (now a Chief Steward), and Chief Cook, as Petty Officers. The 2nd Cook/Baker, and four Stewards are Ratings. This hierarchal structure has had its position names changed over the decades but has remained the same since FIDS days.
Purser – In charge of the Catering Department. He is also responsible for storing the vessel with victuals and the office of keeping ship’s accommodations clean and tidy. He also acts in the role as a “hotel manager” and looks after the needs of visiting scientists and passengers. In the past, this individual was called Chief Steward in Merchant Navy parlance – the Chief Steward is now what previously would be called a Steward.
Chief Cook – In charge of the Galley; he rates a Petty Officer.
Assistant Cook – Second in charge of the Galley. He is responsible for baking the bread each day.
Chief Steward – Responsible for looking after the accommodations.
Stewards – Two work for the Chief Steward and one who assists in the Galley.
Medical
Doctor – The ship has a sick berth and when working in Southern waters or “down south” it carries a single doctor. Historically, the Doctor joined the ship in Southampton and sailed for the entire season; however, as of late, he joins the ship in the Falkland Islands. The rationale for this change is that in terms of economics; there has not been a need for one on the Atlantic passage. When the RRS James Clark Ross is in Arctic waters, likewise a Doctor is not berthed.
BAS ships follow a standard Merchant Navy and Royal Navy watch system. The Chief, 2nd and 3rd Officer are on watches when at sea. The Chief does 4-8, 3rd 8-12, and 2nd 12-4. Also on watch are one of the five ABs who rotate, with two on day work for a week and the other three on watches. The only change in Deck compliment is that from time to time, an additional Deck Officer might join the ship to work with the scientists in the deployment and recovery of equipment. At times, like most British-flag vessels, the crew may be augmented by a singular cadet. For the Officers and Crew, the periods of work is four months on and four months off.
Like the original Royal Research vessels, The RRS James Clark Ross acts as a floating scientific platform. Scientists will join the ship, bringing specialist equipment with them. The ship will give them accommodation and computing facilities, and then interface their equipment to the ship. Equipment is as varied as low/high-pressure hydraulics, and electricity in the many forms that it can be turned into interacting with hot/cold water and saltwater. The vessel travels to locations specified by the scientists and deploys the equipment as required. A typical science cruise on the RRS James Clark Ross will last six or seven weeks. On average, the RRS James Clark Ross will carry out about ten or eleven science cruises, with some cruises dedicated for a singular purpose, while others are fitted into other work and may only take a few days or weeks.
An early group photograph of officers on the RRS William Scoresby show them in Merchant Navy garb, with a few unique embellishments. These uniforms were recently new innovations for the British Mercantile Marine quum Merchant Navy. In the years that followed the Great War, King George V honored the British Mercantile Marine for its valiant service rendered to the Empire in the face of battle by giving it the official moniker of Merchant Navy with the Prince of Wales as its Master. This title underscored the fact that British merchantmen were Royal Navy auxiliaries and could be pressed into service in the event of a national emergency. As a sanctioned and militarized government marine, Merchant Navy officers were licensed, and at an individual’s and company’s prerogative, uniformed with distinctive cap devices and special cuff lace (alternately known as braid, distinction lace or rank stripes). The Merchant Navy cap device is comprised of a Tudor Naval Crown surmounting a maroon-cushioned oval on which rests a silver anchor without cable. The cushion is surrounded by a double border of tightly looped gold wire or purl, and framed by gold oak leaves and acorns. The stylized Tudor Naval Crown is of particular interest as it is found on official British ship crests – for King Henry is credited with circumnavigating the British Isles. Cuff lace, also authorized for Merchant Navy officers, followed the pattern set by the Royal Navy with the noted exception of the executive curl, which as opposed to being curvilinear and resting on the uppermost rank stripe was moved between the stripes and made a lozenge. As may be discerned from the photograph, officers aboard a Royal Auxilliary Research Vessel wore insignia quite similar to that of period Merchant Navy (at the time also called interchangeably the Mercantile Marine or Mercantile Navy) and Royal Navy. This is a not at all uncommon occurrence, as Shipping Lines and the Government Marine wore very similar rank identifiers and uniform components; what is striking is the fact that RRS/RARV officers have crowns above their rank stripes and modified Merchant Navy cap badges. This use of crowns above cuff lace is a uniform element used by officers aboard all BAS ships.
Aboard BAS ships of today, only the officers have undress uniforms. An undress would be the classic blue reefer with cuff lace and two rows of gilt buttons, blue trousers, and a peaked white cap (the badge of which is the page’s header image). Practically, it is only worn on special occasions. Engineer officers spend their day in working gear or boiler suits and tend to only get changed into a uniform shirt, trousers, and a tie for dinner in the evening. In the 1950s, Petty Officers wore a rig similar to their Royal Navy counterparts. The same was true for Ratings. This was usually only worn upon arrival and departure from Southampton and Stanley up until the early 1970s; after this point, Health and Safety Regulations specified the wear of hardhats and boiler suits on deck.
Circa 1955. Example of traditional rig worn by rating aboard RRS John Biscoe. Note the jersey with the embroidered ship’s name and the sailor hat with tally. Col.: IW
Unlike the Royal Navy and like the Merchant Navy, British Antarctic Survey Officers continue to have branch colors between the rank rings on reefer cuffs and epaulets. The practice for distinguishing non-executive office by such means was abolished in 1955 by the Royal Navy, except for those who must be clearly recognizable as non-combatants serving with the Royal Navy as stipulated under the Geneva Convention. A relevant thought to consider is that since the same tailoring shops provided both shipping lines and the Royal Navy with livery and uniforms, influence of the latter can be discerned in the former, and now former acts as a remembrance of a passed tradition; interestingly, formal military costume these days is thought to retain conservative fashion and embellishments, this example is quite the opposite.
FIDS Officer insignia was closely modeled on that of the Royal Navy (RN equivalent rank in brackets) – although FIDS Officers were not of the Royal Navy:
Master: three stripes (Commander)
Chief Engineer and Chief Officer: 2 and a half stripes (Lieutenant Commander)
2nd Officer, Engineer, Radio Officer, and Electrician: 2 stripes (Lieutenant)
3rd Officer and Engineer: 1 stripe (Sub Lieutenant)
4th officer and Engineer half stripe:
Chief Steward: tree buttons on the cuff (Petty Officer)
The FIDS system was retained up until the early 1970s by BAS.
Present BAS Officer insignia, in some aspects, mirrors that of the present Merchant Navy; this is quite visible in the insignia of rank. At present, on either cuff braid on coats or slip-on epaulets for shirts, the lace of distinction is thus:
Master and Chief Engineer: four stripes
Chief Officer and 2nd Engineer: three stripes
2nd Officer and 3rd Engineer: two stripes
3rd Officer and 4th Engineer: one stripe
Electricians or Electric Technical Officers (ETO) including the Radio Officer, and the Purser: two and one-half stripes.
Branch colors, found between the rank stripes for FIDS and BAS Officers are:
Black: Executive or Deck
Purple: Engineers
Green: Electricians (ETO)
White: Pursers and Catering
Returning to the cap badge itself, of interest and what makes the BAS badge unique is the heterogeneous use of apparently Royal Navy and Merchant Navy symbolic elements. The cap badge is comprised of a St. Edward Crown surmounting a white leather cushioned oval on which rests a black anchor. The cushion is surrounded by a double border of tightly looped gold purl, and is framed by tightly-grouped gold laurel leaves. The St. Edward crown on the BAS cap badge is such because BAS ships are Royally-warranted Royal Research Ships – prior to Queen Elizabeth II’s ascension, the crown was the post-1901 crown (Tudor Crown). The white oval is a symbolic reminder of the BAS ships being involved in Polar region exploration. And the black anchor is in somber respect for the Antarctic explorer, Robert Falcon Scott who died on his last venture to the ice-bound continent. Thus, a Royal Navy element is not present, and the badge follows a decidedly Merchant Navy pattern.
RRS Shackleton wardroom plaque. Shackleton served with FIDS and BAS from 1955 through 1992. The central device is comprised of three buckles – a play on the Shackleton family name, “shackles” which are a form of a buckle. Col.: IW.
Messing arrangments on BAS ships have reflected the changing nature of intra-ship dynamics. Prior to 1999, ships maintained three messes: Officers Wardroom, FIDS Mess, and Crews Mess. For late watchstanders, there was also a small duty mess. After 1999, with the RRS Ernest Shackleton joining BAS, the individual messes combined and everyone was served cafeteria-style. This new messing style promoted a bit of conviviality among all aboard despite the three somewhat disparate groups: Officers, Crew, and Scientists. However, some of the old traditions remain as RRS James Clark Ross has an Officers and Scientists Saloon.
Robert Falcon Scott birthday, 6 June 1911.
Like his Royal Navy and Merchant Navy counterpart, the Master of a BAS ship dictates what style of uniform will be worn for the ship’s Officers and Crew. The uniform of the day, as it were, would be for arrivals and departures, and official entertainment occasions, and are often wool pullovers or tropical white rig dependant upon the ship’s area of operation. As alluded to before, the crew onboard BAS ships of the second millennium are not found working in formal uniforms, as may be the case on Royal Navy ships. However, being a Royal Research vessel, all are uniformed in some fashion and officers do wear insignia.
The uniform culture that once marked Britain has long passed. Culturally, uniforms were touted in the maritime community as markers of professionalism; however, as the example of replacing deckhands’ work uniforms with boiler suits and hardhats attest, uniforms are perfectly fine in ceremonial functions. Insignia, if worn in such a manner to not hinder shipboard functions such as are rank slides worn by BAS Officers, are important to denote position and rank. As artifacts of an older, formal culture, reefers – once an item for almost daily wear in temperate climates and formal occasions – rarely find their way from the locker. And, the Master may don his cap on official duties, such as taking on a pilot or a visit from a dignitary; otherwise, he is uncovered on the Navigation bridge. The hard work and inclement weather experienced by the crew outside of the forecastle forces a spirit of pragmatism; the crew are not in a dress rehearsal for battle, and outward examples of individual discipline as manifest by gleaming brass buckles, eternally pressed shirts, and polished shoes have given way to work boots and heavy foul-weather gear. By and large, BAS personnel have not traditionally worn uniforms and caps simply because there are few opportunities to wear them: their work milieu and Antarctic environment are not conducive to fancy dress.
Many thanks are due to Ellen A. Bazeley-White, of British Antarctic Survey – Archives Service; Stuart Lawrence, past Master of the RRS Bransfield and RRS Ernest Shackleton; and Lyle Halkett, a past Crew member of Falkland Islands Dependency Survey.
FIDS is the precursor to BAS and was in operation between 1947-1962. This cap badge is a particularly rare Tudor Crown issue; it was worn by a crew member who held a position akin to a Petty Officer (Senior Able Seaman). the period of wear was up until 1953. At the time of this cap badge’s wear, FIDS had a single ship – with about five Petty Officers.
In terms of construction, this cap badge is stamped metal with enamels for the jewels, red felt for the crown cap. The black anchor is affixed to a white field of duck cloth with black thread.
BAS Officer cap badge, ca. 1950s
BAS cap badge, 1950s
This cap badge is described in the text above. It is affixed to a mohair cap band, which would be found on an officer’s peaked cap.
7 November 1957. The ill-fated Captain Norman Brown, master of the RRS Ernest Shackleton of the Falkland Islands Dependencies Survey. Captain Brown took issue with the then Governor of the Falklands and his handling of the Royal Research Ship’s problems and promptly resigned. Col.: IW
BAS Officer cap badge, ca. 2000s
The images of the current British Antarctic Survey cap badge and cap are courtesy of Mike Gloistein. Mr. Gloistein is a long-time Radio Officer aboard BAS ships; he patiently and with good-humor provided many important notes regarding BAS shipboard organization. It is worth mentioning he is a recipient of the Polar Medal – thus a member of the very exclusive Polar Club. His award reads:
Her Majesty the Queen has been graciously pleased to award you the Polar Medal in recognition of your outstanding service to the British Antarctic Survey and to Polar Research.
London Gazette, 17 December 2004
It is from Mr. Gloistein’s uniform that I was able to determine the absence of Elliot’s Eye (the executive curl) on BAS uniforms.
BAS cap and cap badge, 2000s. Col.: Mike Gloistein.BAS cap badge, 2000s. Col.: Mike Gloistein.
BAS Officer cap badge, reproduction
There do exist fake BAS cap badges, and they are quite dodgy in their composition. One found in the wild was described as 1950s Queen’s crown British Antarctic Survey badge. It is quite simply a Royal Navy Officer’s cap badge with a piece of white linen placed beneath a black-painted anchor. The badge is suspect on every account. As is known in cap badge circles, even “economy issue” badges produced at the end of the Second World War are deftly executed – a poorly affixed oval of cloth would never be found on the forward face of a badge. The wreath is altogether incorrect and the anchor is incongruous in both pattern and period. If anything, we might suspect a period BAS officer wearing a Royal Auxilliary Fleet badge, and not a poorly defaced RN one. As always, caveat emptor; this was sold at online auction for some £32 – only because the seller misspelled “Antarctic” as “Antartic.”
Military uniforms tell a story. The bit and bobs that are scattered across them offer clues to their context and sometimes even political battles fought far from the crew compartment or barracks. American Merchant Marine uniforms in the inter-war period were work clothes.
I was bothered by a statement by a General Dalton of the United States Shipping Board’s testimony to U. S. Congress in December 1926:
He claimed more than 50% of officers aboard United States Lines (USL) ships were reservists in the U. S. Naval Reserve Force (USNRF) – in fact just about all. The reason I was bothered has to do with the fact that pretty much all officers aboard USL ships wore a cap badge with an eagle – older collectors of Merchant Marine insignia told me, the reason for the eagle is because the officers were WWI veterans, and to give them a nod, United States Shipping Board (USSB) gave them caps with eagles on them. The eagles were reminiscent of the eagle found on a U.S. Naval officer’s cap – a cap forbidden for reservists to wear while not in uniform. As assumptions go, this is a fair one to consider. Across the Atlantic, P&O did this to attract ex-Royal Navy officers and they said they did too. And, it follows fellows who joined USNRF invariably stayed in USNRF after the war and they wished to wear their caps or something similar – to mark themselves apart. That makes sense – sort of.
So, I decided to locate and consult primary documents to corroborate the General’s statement. I found he was grossly incorrect or misinformed or just plain conflating the truth. Using these documents, I created a spreadsheet of the officers on SS Leviathan‘s maiden cruise and cross-referenced them with USNRF lists to determine:
Who had a commission in 1929 (if they were lieutenants in 1929, it would be safe to assume they were ensigns in 1923… they had two ranks to jump).
Nationality.
Why the SS Leviathan? She was the flagship of the USL fleet – at the time she was the largest, most modern ship in the US merchant fleet (but, she was built by the Germans and captured when the US joined WWI) and she had the cream of the industry aboard. The licensed officers didn’t change too much on the SS Leviathan – many of whom were there on the maiden voyage mostly stuck around through the line’s acquisition by Paul W. Chapman in 1929 and on through Roosevelt/IMM acquisition in 1931/2. Nationality is important to consider since foreigners could not join USNRF; the complaint for many was that the American Merchant Marine was crowded with foreigners. In counting the foreigners, I could determine the true number of seamen who were eligible for enrollment in USNRF.
I discovered there were 78 people who might nominally be considered officers on the SS Leviathan‘s maiden voyage (per a news item lauding them). Of those 78; only 5 of them were not U.S. citizens. And, of the remaining 73, 9 held commissions in the USNRF in 1929. The number of reservists made up 12% of the officers.
In looking at USL passenger lists from other ships, USL did denote an officer’s enrollment in USNRF correctly – except potentially in one instance, Giles Steadman; the USNRF rolls from 1926 are unavailable. On those lists, invariably only the master of the ship held a commission in the USNRF/USNR during the decade spanning 1924-1934; among those listed on the lists, that would be 20% of merchant seamen were members of USNRF during the period cited by the General.
Beyond the inaccuracy of the General’s statement, it would also be safe to assume that there is no connection between the actual numbers of USNRF officers and the cap badges worn by officers aboard USSB-owned lines; the eagle on the cap badge may very well just be an indicator of nationality as does the corona navalis for the British Mercantile Navy of the same period.
The nuance of uniforms in the American Merchant Marine is different than that found in the military. Although they share the same clothes as sailors, merchant seaman did not relish in wearing badges and patches to show how they transited through shipboard hierarchy. These hierarchies were not hard and fast. So, using a cap mark oneself is counterintuitive in a merchant marine setting.
Numbers of merchant seamen in the MMR was relatively static; these numbers are from 1934. It is of note that no men – that is non-officers enrolled.
The General would not be correct even if he said all USL ships flew the Merchant Marine Naval Reserve Flag – during this period – the flag could be flown if the commanding officer of a vessel held a commission in USNRF and 50% of the officers aboard held commissions, or if the U. S. Navy felt the ship was worthy as a naval auxiliary. Membership in the USNRF was originally one to not be handed a white feather during the First World War, it later had a mixture of patriotism, a little cash, and subsidized courses. As for the officers in the USNRF, many did not pay much attention to Naval Regulations. If they had the U.S. Naval officer cap in their wardrobe, they wore it in the course of their daily work routine. Uniform standards were set by the master of the vessel – the demand may be that officers show up in a jacket in the saloon or there may have been a devil may care attitude altogether aboard. On USL ships, only crew members who faced passengers kept up appearances on passenger liners; otherwise, those in engine spaces would wear work clothes and caps without grommets. The later could not be bothered with buttons and badges – they had real work to do.
Merchant Marine Naval Reserve Flag awardees, 1930. Ships were reviewed each year for award qualification.Merchant Marine Naval Reserve Flag awardees, 1931
This is not to say Merchant seamen threw anything they wanted together on. On steamship lines that carried passengers, there was an assumption that the crew would have a smart appearance as one might find in a hotel – but they would be decked out in nautical uniforms. There is no bureaucratic fight on Merchant Marine uniforms of the 1920s and 1930s, and by 1929, only two USL ships ever earned the right to fly the Naval Reserve Flag by the end of 1920s by virtue of personnel count (the flag was given to ships with 50% of officers aboard holding USNRF commissions).
References
United States Congress, Senate, Committee on Commerce. “Proposed Sale of Certain Ships by the United States Shipping Board Hearing Before a Subcommittee of the Committee on Commerce, United States Senate, Sixty-Ninth Congress, Second Session, Pursuant to S.Res. 294, Requesting the Shipping Board to Postpone Consummation of the Sale Or Charter of the ‘Leviathan’ and Certain Other Vessels Operated by the Board: December 13, 1926.” Washington, D. C. : GPO, 1936.
United States Congress, House, Committee on Appropriations. “Navy Department Appropriation Bill for 1936: Hearing Before the Subcommittee of the Committee on Appropriations, House of Representatives, in Charge of Navy Department Appropriation Bill for 1936. Seventy-fourth Congress, First Session.” Washington, D.C. : G.P.O., 1935, p. 208.
United States Navy. Register of commissioned officers, cadets, midshipmen, and warrant officers of the United States Naval Reserve: January 1, 1929. Washington, D. C. : GPO, 1929.
United States Navy. Register of commissioned officers, cadets, midshipmen, and warrant officers of the United States Naval Reserve: January 1, 1930. Washington, D. C. : GPO, 1930, pp. 121-122.
United States Navy. Register of commissioned officers, cadets, midshipmen, and warrant officers of the United States Naval Reserve: January 1, 1931. Washington, D. C. : GPO, 1931, pp. 201-202.
United States National Archives and Records Administration. “Passenger and crew lists of vessels arriving at New York, 1897-1942” v. 7626-7628 Jul 20-23 1923 (NARA Series T715, Roll 3334).
