Very Special Ships. Arthur Nicholson
who had been punished for – or had escaped from – an “affair” with Zeus (Jupiter) the King of the Gods and helped by Poseidon (Neptune) the God of the Sea, against the angry vengeance of Hera (Juno) the Queen of the Gods, into becoming a quail, alighting as a fugitive on an island (Ortygia/Delos) floating in the sea, which was then anchored for her comfort and where in due course she became the mother of Apollo and Artemis (Diana) the twin deities of sun and moon’. The Latona would also have an exciting life, but not quite as colourful as that of her namesake.
Captain Bateson and his twin brother were born in 1898, their father being a High Court judge. He attended Rugby School and the Royal Naval College Keyham and then entered the Royal Navy as a special entry cadet in 1916. In 1923, he qualified as a ‘Torpedo Officer’, when the Torpedo Branch was responsible for maintaining ships’ electrical equipment. Also in 1923, he married Marie Elphinstone Fleming Cullen and they had two children, Alec and Isobel. Stuart Bateson was promoted to Captain in 1939.7
After Admiral Bateson’s death in 1980, Marie Bateson received a letter from the Latona’s Cook-Baker, a Charles Simmons, who offered a glowing tribute to her husband, a ‘Real Gentleman’ whom he greatly respected. He reported that the ‘bond of friendship we had aboard HMS Latona was created by our Wonderful Skipper who always had time to listen to what one said to him’. After his signature, he added, ‘The Baker who used to make the cakes your husband did so enjoy’.
As the Latona completed in Southampton, the rest of her crew joined her. One was a Telegraphist Sidney Albert Banner, who was born in the Aston district of Birmingham. Once the war began, he tired of life in the barracks and volunteered to go to sea and was informed he was on draft to a ship called the Latona. No one seemed to have heard of her, though some, confusing her with Laconia, thought she was a liner converted to an armed merchant cruiser. Telegraphist Banner recalled later that ‘it was something of a shock to us when, having been trucked to the appropriate dock, we were confronted by a sleek, three-funnelled warship like a small cruiser in appearance’.8 Once again, an Abdiel had fooled someone.
Captain Stuart Latham Bateson. (NPG × 163947, portrait of 25 January 1949 by Walter Stoneman, © National Portrait Gallery, London)
On completion, the Latona, as Job No. 1198, ran a four-hour full-power trial. Maddeningly, Thornycroft’s one-page record of the trial did not record the speed attained, but did record the shaft horsepower (72,860, higher on the starboard shaft than the port one), fuel consumption (24.5 tons per hour), steam pressures, draught and other information. A few slight defects were found, but a handwritten note at the bottom of the record declared, ‘A very fine performance + shows care in design + construction’.9
The Latona was allowed no time to dawdle about. She was sent straight to Milford Haven to have her minelaying equipment checked, which was done by dropping dummy mines out the mine doors and onto a lighter.10 She then proceeded to the King George V Dock at Glasgow to load cargo and personnel. On her way, she performed a speed trial and is unofficially said to have achieved 40.3 knots in an unladen condition.
The Latona fitting out in Southampton. (National Maritime Museum N 499983)
On 15 May, the Latona loaded a number of 2pdr anti-tank guns, ammunition and stores needed for the army in North Africa, as well as 20mm Oerlikon cannon for the Mediterranean Fleet at Alexandria. As the cargo was loaded, the temperature on the mining deck was said to be 100° F. The Latona also took on a number of Royal Air Force and Royal Navy passengers, one of whom was a Signalman named Harold Osborne, who was surprised to find himself on the Latona instead of a troopship and kept a journal during the upcoming voyage. There was not enough space for every passenger to sling a hammock and some had to sleep – rather uncomfortably – on the mess tables. During the long voyage ahead the men in the Latona began to form opinions of the other men aboard, not always favourable ones, such as the Regular Service ratings’ opinions of the Hostilities Only men and vice versa.
As the Latona completed loading, Acting Sub-Lieutenant William Barrett, RNR, noticed that the ship’s masts were sloping toward opposite sides of the ship, which indicated that the ship was twisting. He reported his observation to the First Lieutenant and the Captain ordered the cargo discharged and reloaded so it would be properly balanced.11
Sub-Lieutenant Barrett was Horace William Augustin (‘Bill’) Barrett, who was born in 1920 in Wellington, New Zealand, to British parents. His family returned to Britain when he was five or six years old and he attended St Joseph’s College in Beulah Hill in London. Barrett then entered the Merchant Navy before transferring to the Royal Naval Reserve.
Barrett shared a cabin in the Latona with Acting Sub-Lieutenant Paddy Donovan from Weymouth, Dorset. Both were a bit wet behind the ears and when the ship’s First Lieutenant wanted both of them he bellowed, ‘Stupids!’ When he wanted Dovovan, he bellowed ‘Stupid Mk I’ and when he wanted Barrett he bellowed ‘Stupid Mk II’, names the two men used to address each other for years afterwards.
On Friday 16 May, the Latona cast off from the King George V Dock and set sail for Greenock. She was quickly recalled to load more cargo and then sailed for Greenock for good. As she sailed down the Clyde, Signalman Osborne opined that:
the sight of the shipbuilding yards at full blast was an amazing sight; ships nearly completed, half built, keels newly laid, all shapes and sizes, it was marvellous. We saw the sister-ship of the Latona nearly finished and named Manxman and also the new battleship Duke of York, sister-ship to K.G.5 [King George V] practically ready for sea.12
The Latona reached Greenock at 20.00 and dropped anchor to refuel from an oiler. At 23.00 she weighed anchor and proceeded down the Clyde to the open sea. It was a sad goodbye. Signalman Osborne wrote:
All of us passengers and crew were on the upper deck, as the nights were short and we could see the riversides until about 11.30 p.m., mainly, though, we were all taking the last glimpse of our homeland and wondering when we should be able to return to the pleasant shores once again; these thoughts animated all of us and there were certainly some very sad faces there. I wouldn’t like to picture mine; I’m sure it was terrible. There we all stood until the grey mist changed to black of night and enveloped our dear land and the only thing left was our thoughts and dreams of those we left behind.
As the Latona headed out to sea, many of the men who had never been to sea before discovered seasickness, sometimes alleviated by being up on deck in the open air.
The day the Latona left, Captain Bateson addressed the crew, saying that, while many of the crew had never been at sea before, they would pull together as a team.13 The next day, Captain Bateson went on the loudspeaker and informed the crew and passengers they were bound for Gibraltar. The Latona ploughed steadily along at 22 knots and was soon well out into the Atlantic. That day she spotted a convoy heading for home.
On the third day out there were new wonders to behold, flying fish that spread their wings and skimmed over the water as the Latona’s bow-wave disturbed them and then porpoises appeared jumping and diving and playing about the ship.
On the voyage there was often not a lot for many of the crew and passengers to do, but there were exercises to be carried out and there was usually something to be painted, such as the flag deck (several times on the voyage). There were usually plenty of signals for the signalmen to decode and distribute and the Latona had begun receiving signals warning her of the presence of U-boats in her path. Each time she skirted the dangerous areas and avoided them.
The Latona as completed. (National Maritime Museum N 49991)
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