Icelandic Patrol 18 February - 2 March 1976

Three times Great Britain has been in dispute with Iceland over fishing since the last war and each time the Royal Navy has been called in to protect our trawlermen from interference by the Icelandic Coast Guard vessels. On each occasion the reason for the confrontation came about when Iceland tried to push her territorial fishing limits out, thus forcing our deep-sea trawling fleet to be run off the best fishing grounds. The reasoning behind their moves were not without good foundation as the country has no mineral wealth and the economy of the island was largely dependent on its own substantial fishing industry. Their government maintained that over-fishing around the coast by foreign trawlers was slowly leading to the extinction of fish stocks and in all probability they were quite right. For this reason they introduced a 'quota' restriction on all foreign trawlers and started to dictate to fishermen which areas they could use.

This third dispute started in 1975 when Iceland unilaterally, and somewhat surprisingly at the time, declared a 200 mile fishing zone around her coast, extending it from 50 miles, a limit which Britain did not recognise in any case. That Iceland should want to extend her limit was not really the point at issue for Britain herself, in collaboration with her then styled Common Market partners, wished to extend her territorial fishing areas. The problem was that Iceland wasn't willing to wait any longer and took the law into her own hands despite a forthcoming 'Law of the Sea' conference which was about to be convened to discuss just these proposals. In extending the limit without reasonable warning the deep-sea fishermen of Britain and Germany suddenly found their traditional fishing grounds denied to them. The British Government took the stance that the Icelandic move was both premature and illegal and advised our fishermen that they should not only go on fishing in the disputed area but they should in fact fish right up to the recognised 12 mile limit. Very soon the fishermen were complaining that the Icelandic coast guard vessels (ICGV) were interfering with their work and, indeed, cutting the warps - the two ropes that attach the trawl net to the trawler - causing thousands of pounds of damage and lost working time. The warp cutting was a relatively new-found way of interfering with our trawlers but was also considered extremely dangerous to the fishermen. Against these overwhelming odds the British trawlermen called for naval protection and the government obliged.

To mount such an operation was costly to say the least. It goes without saying that the Royal Navy didn't have any suitable purpose-built fishery patrol vessel capable of doing this job so the task fell to our frigate force, mainly fast anti-submarine vessels which were quite unsuitable for gunboat diplomacy. At least three and often four were required on station at any given time with up to three others standing by at Rosyth or the Clyde. A fleet oiler was also on station and another ready to go at short notice. Two large naval tugs as well as a number of other large chartered ocean-going tugs were invariably in the vicinity to provide support. Each frigate had a Wasp helicopter whilst a Wessex was detached from one of the guided missile destroyers and housed on the oiler. As the dispute wore on a special Wessex-equipped fishery protection flight was formed. Additionally an RAF Nimrod patrol aircraft was deployed each day to provide adequate long-range cover and provide a source of supply from the UK, particularly the all-important mail.

Such was the situation when HMS Yarmouth finally got in on the act. One of nine ships of the 'Rothesay' class she was of 2,560 tons displacement (full), could muster a nifty 30 knots when pushed and came from no less a stable than John Brown on Clydebank in 1960. My personal association with the ship commenced in December 1974. At that time I was an aircraft artificer with 829 Naval Air Squadron and that is when I joined the Ship's Flight, it being equipped with a single Wasp HAS Mk.1 helicopter. My first problem was that the squadron was based at Royal Naval Air Station Portland, the ship was home-ported at Rosyth and the family - that is my wife, two children, and the house - were located near Portsmouth. That made life a little tedious because the ship was deep in refit at the time and I was involved in a great deal of travelling up and down the country often by train or road but also, when appropriate, in our own aircraft. Flying at least gave me the opportunity to hone my cross-country navigating skills so long as I could see the M1 motorway! What more could a pilot expect from an engineer? If there was to be an up side to all this then it had to be that the ship was promised a lengthy trip to the Far East and some rather interesting visits to countries and places I hadn't been to before. Just why I should have been so naive to think that this would really happen I don't know. It all came to a grinding halt for the most unexpected of reasons and instead of heading to Japan and other places oriental we were to find ourselves at Rosyth preparing for - well rather colder places. So it was that our last few days were spent provisioning the ship with a fair amount of extra equipment including a lot of warm clothes. Iceland in February can be outrageously cold and the seas can be whipped up from dead calm to a howling gale in no time at all whilst the hours of daylight were desperately short. The situation around the coast of the island was looking ugly indeed. Several frigates had been involved in serious collisions with the coastguard vessels which were, in the main, robust little diesel-engined ships, mostly modern and built for the job, (although one was a converted trawler) and, perhaps importantly for them, never very far away from their homeland and shelter.

We slipped at midday on Wednesday 18^th February for a patrol intended to last a minimum of three weeks and headed northwards with, I suppose, a certain amount of apprehension. During that evening we heard that sister ship Lowestoft (who we were replacing) was returning a day early and our speed was increased accordingly. By midday on the 19^th we had passed to the east of the Faroes and by early that evening the stark truth was beginning to dawn on us - there would be no warming-up period. Our first rendezvous was with the oiler RFA 0lwen for a 'replenishment at sea' (RAS) and we were alongside this giant by 2000 as we kept our course towards the north-eastern part of the island. On completion we were ordered straight in to relieve the Leander class frigate Bacchante, and thus take on the shadowing task of the ICGV Tyr, newest ship of the fleet, in the fishing grounds to the north-east of the island.

Perhaps at this stage 1 should explain just what this shadowing involved. We called it 'close marking'. Essentially the captain endeavoured to place ourselves between the fishing fleet and the coastguard vessel preferably in such a way that if the ICGV should try and make for our trawlers and attempt to cross our bows, or make any other significantly dangerous manoeuvre near us then we would have the law of the sea on our side. To that end all our course and speed changes were meticulously logged so that it could be used in evidence if necessary. This was particularly important since close marking meant exactly that and we frequently had an Icelandic vessel within yards of us for extremely long periods of time so the risk of a serious collision or other confrontation was very real indeed. As a matter of course we always assumed a modified 'action stations' which put the ship into a high state of damage control and readiness although manning the guns was not required - that would, perhaps, have been a little too provocative in these circumstances.

No doubt the captain of the Tyr quickly spotted us and as daylight broke on the 20th he commenced to 'try out the new boy'. On a number of occasions his vessel veered across our bows causing a number of near misses. In retrospect the Tyr's antics were probably very fortunate because it gave us all a valuable insight into the current methods being employed and a chance to practice our tactics. We spent hours alongside each other at a standstill but then, with the advantage of direct bridge control to his engines the Icelandic captain would suddenly make off at full speed and try and cross our bows. We may have had speed on our side but our bridge watch keepers had to be on the ball if we were not to lose the advantage; we also had one serious drawback. With the best will in the world our steam turbine driven machinery took time to react - not very much more but enough to make a difference. Long hours of watching the Icelandic crews on their bridge was the order of the day helped by staying alert, some timely intuition and, above all, a commanding officer who knew how to throw his frigate about the sea and wasn't afraid to do so.

Tyr closes Yarmouth at speed

The following day commenced with another RAS with the 0lwen, then once again we took over the shadowing of the Tyr. On this occasion we were uncomfortably close to our fishing fleet and the ICGV made several attempts to get past us. Each time she was thwarted but often with great difficulty. Then, at about 1400 the captain of the coastguard vessel, perhaps in desperation, made another attempt to cross our bows. This very nearly resulted in a serious collision. It was obviously only going to be a matter of time. As the day wore on we kept up our vigil and successfully kept the Tyr away from our trawlers. Evidently the fishermen, many of whom were witnesses to the day's events, were well pleased with our efforts judging by the comments overheard on their own radio channel. This provided us with some indication as to which frigate was in favour at any given time and often a fair amount of amusement. By all accounts not all the other frigate captains were held in quite such high esteem and the hardened fishing folk were always very quick to criticise or show appreciation, as we were to find out.

On Sunday 22^nd we started the day still shadowing the Tyr until eventually she broke off the engagement and headed to one of the numerous fjords that abound on the north-east coast of the island. On a very pleasant and surprisingly warm afternoon we moved on to shadow the Odinn in order to relieve the frigate Scylla so that she could refuel. We subsequently escorted this ICGV into the 12 mile limit as she also made for home. No warps had been cut since we had arrived and feeling pleased with ourselves we retired for an uneventful night.

Early on the following morning we had found the Odinn again and very quickly closed on her. As the morning wore on her captain decided to have a go at us perhaps to see how we would react. Whilst we were both travelling at some speed she closed us on our port quarter, our trawlers being to starboard of us. We held our course, anticipating a slowing down of the ICGV at the last minute to try and pass behind us but surprisingly she didn't. The resulting glancing collisions all along our port side fortunately caused little damage except to the flight deck safety nets but she also failed to cross our bows and with deteriorating weather conditions, called off the challenge and hurried for home. Any delight shown by the fishermen at this little event was soon to be tempered as the news that our other ships had failed to stop the ICGVs Baldur and Tyr, both of which successfully cut warps. They were disgusted and told us so. On this Monday we also bade farewell to the Olwen, off home for a well-earned rest having been relieved by RFA Tidepool.

We quickly made our number with the Tidepool during an early refuel the next morning, Tuesday 24^th, following which we soon had our Wasp airborne looking for trouble. It didn't take long to locate the ICGV Thor closing on our trawlers and after a speedy chase we settled in to close mark her. Our trawlers were again uncomfortably close to us on our starboard side and her captain was determined to repeat the successes of the day before. Repeated attempts were made by him to get past us, all to no avail. Perhaps in frustration he finally attempted yet another crossing of our bows with near disastrous consequences. Whilst the Yarmouth held her course a series of collisions occurred culminating in a major hit as the bows of the frigate rode high up on the swell before crashing down on the Thor's starboard bridge wing. As the two ships parted company the results were beyond belief. We had effectively demolished the ICGVs bridge wing and had caused considerable other damage. She immediately broke off the engagement and hurried for port, we were not to see her again whilst we were in Icelandic waters. With this engagement we were top of the pops with our trawlermen who henceforth called us either the 'Thumper' or 'Bites your Legs'!

Yarmouth and Thor collide

Wednesday 25th turned out to be a somewhat quieter day, as we spent the entire time shadowing Odinn, mostly stopped. The Icelandic tactics often called for one of their vessels to tie down the most awkward frigate whilst the others tried to evade the remainder. With only three frigates on station it was sometimes possible for them to succeed especially when one of our number had to refuel. The 25^th was one such day when the Odinn not only succeeded in tying us down all day but also for the entire night. With a stem swell lapping against the ship as she wallowed motionless sleeping proved disappointingly difficult. Back in London the MoD had long recognised these tactics and a decision had been made to make a fourth frigate available. When we were finally relieved to go and refuel at 1000 on the 26^th it was not the Scylla or the Bacchante that took our place but the Andromeda newly arrived from the UK. Whether the master and crew of the Odinn had expected her 1 do not know but the arrival of another frigate at last gave us the flexibility that we desired.

After topping up with fuel from the Tidepool, the early afternoon was spent doing some essential flying (which incidentally we couldn't do whilst close marking), like collecting net loads of fish which had been offered to us by various trawler skippers. This was difficult; we didn't wish to offend but the ship's caterers really couldn't cope with the large amounts offered since the Yarmouth was equipped only with a cold store and had no deep freeze facilities. Needless to say a lot of fresh fish was on the menu from then on! Another task entrusted to our aircraft was communicating with the trawler skippers by use of a dispatch bag. The RN ships could not easily communicate with them over the radio since the Icelanders were able to monitor the commercial channels that were available so confidential matters were passed by message instead and the dispatch bags dropped to the trawlermen using the aircraft's search and rescue winch. No great problem with this method until, that is, our pilot came back slightly jittery at what had happened. The normal routine was to lower the bag to a crewmember then stand off whilst its contents were recovered by the trawler and either wait for a reply or return at a later time to pick up any correspondence. On this occasion, however, the bag was lowered using the aircraft's hoist and their trawler crewman promptly secured the hook to the guardrail before disappeared into the wheelhouse. Thus captured in the hover over the vessel the pilot took a decidedly dim view of the situation. It was just fortunate that it was dead calm at the time otherwise it could have jeopardised the safety of the aircraft. Just as he was considering using the explosive guillotine to jettison the cable the crewman re-emerged with the bag and released the aircraft. What was in it? Just a bottle of whisky to show their appreciation!

Later that day we caught up with the Bacchante as she shadowed the Baldur and between us we escorted her into the twelve-mile limit where she was last seen sailing home into the setting sun. It was the first occasion that we had set sight on this particular ship, a powerful and extremely manoeuvrable converted stern trawler which could easily out-turn a frigate. We were to get better acquainted.

After another wake-up call with the Tidepool, the morning of Friday 27^th was very quiet and the weather still remarkably good. During the day the Bacchante developed boiler trouble and had to shut one unit down. In this state she was unable to effectively give of her best and as it happened she was shadowing the Baldur at the time. Consequently in the early afternoon we went to her aid and as soon as we arrived we took over close marking whilst she retreated to a safe distance. Almost immediately the Baldur's captain seized the opportunity to try and slip us. The ensuing fracas caused several near misses and a lot of gyrating around the ocean; a lot was learnt about this particular vessel before she broke off and returned home as darkness fell. Needless to say the trawlermen thought all this dancing about was terrific sport and declared that the 'Icelandic two-step' had been born that day!

Our good luck with the weather held and after a quiet start to Saturday 28^th we were suddenly called to the assistance of a group of trawlers some considerable distance away. At full speed we quickly closed on their position just in time to see the Baldur doing the same. Clearly today there was going to be no messing about; the ICGVs captain was determined to get amongst the nets. Once again with our greater speed we were able to get into our familiar close marking position with the intention of nudging the vessel off her course. Our trawlers were less than seven miles away at the time and still fishing. Almost immediately the Baldur's captain used his exceptional manoeuvrability by turning away from us in a complete 360-degree circle before trying to pass behind our stern. This type of activity was repeated time-and-time again and proved extremely effective and very difficult to cope with. On one or two occasion he succeeded and made off in the direction of the trawlers, only for us to catch up again and herd him off. As the morning wore on we knew we couldn't count on any assistance from the others as they were all committed and at each turn we made we were, in fact, getting closer and closer to our fishermen who were now less than two miles away. What was different about this action was that everything was observed from above by the Icelandic Coastguard Service's Fokker Friendship aircraft whilst sitting above her was the ever faithful RAF Nimrod. We were clearly all on camera!

It took a long time until finally the Baldur's captain made a fatal error but the day of judgement was upon both ships. As she slipped across our bows the Yarmouth, doing a full 23 knots at the time and still coming out of a sharp turn just could not miss. An almighty thump followed as our prow buried itself deep into the port side of the ICGV amidships. When the two ships finally parted company the resultant dent in the heavy plating of the Baldur was immense. With other deck damage and, it is thought, the unseating of one of her two prop shafts the engagement was promptly terminated as she turned for home at about 12 knots. We followed at a safe distance, at times doing up to 18 knots, until her intentions were clear.

Now it was our turn to count the cost. An initial look from inside the ship quickly revealed that we had also suffered severe damage and that some of our forward compartments had flooded up although the watertight bulkheads were holding. Clearly continuing at anything like 18 knots was not a wise option and the marine engineers were quick to say so. A large crease had also appeared on our fo'c'sle but at this early stage it was difficult to see any more. With the twelve-mile limit reached we turned to close on Andromeda (Captain 6^th frigate squadron of which we were part) to get a second opinion. In our hearts we knew our run of luck was over and by early evening the senior squadron engineer in that ship had confirmed our plight.

Whilst all this was going on it is worth digressing a little to consider what was happening at home. It was not the navy's policy at the time to make public the bumps and scrapes its warships were getting into but the insatiable appetite of the press and TV meant that keeping things out of the news was difficult. The first my wife heard of this incident was when one of my relations phoned and said 'Have you heard the news? The Yarmouth's been hit and is very badly damaged'. Indeed it was on the news but thereafter there was a complete blackout with the MoD refusing to comment and for several days 1 unknowingly had an extremely worried wife. So how did they find out? We think that perhaps it was rather stage-managed by the Icelanders - remember their aircraft was above us and saw it all happen and it was probably carrying at least some press representatives.

In blissful ignorance of what was happening at home we were pondering on our future. Certainly the ship was safe but hardly an asset where speed was of the essence. The decision that we should return to Rosyth was made at midnight and by next morning we were already some distance away from Iceland in the company of the tug RMAS Rollicker whom was charged with escorting us back to the U.K. Unfortunately as we headed south so, ironically, we hit our first really bad weather. We ran into the storm early on the morning of Sunday 29th February and life in both ships became very uncomfortable indeed. Both eventually altered course to head into the teeth of the gale. We were now making about four knots and very clearly on our way to Greenland! It did not moderate until after midday on Monday 1^st March by which time we were back on course having passed to the west of the Faroes. By Tuesday the weather had cleared as we came down the east coast of Scotland and this gave us an opportunity to get the aircraft airborne and take some photos of the damaged bow. We entered the Forth at midday arriving off Rosyth at 1430 amidst a boat load of press and television cameras and considerable interest. At least we could now let everyone at home know we were back safely.

Repairs could not be effected at Rosyth due to pressure of work so there was little alternative but to await a decision. This came on 9^th March and on Saturday 13^th we sailed for the Royal Dockyard at Chatham. Repairs took almost exactly two months to effect and involved the removal of the fore part of the ship and the manufacture of a complete new bow section. After a short work-up at Portsmouth we were on our way back to Rosyth to re-store and prepare for a second visit north when on 1^st June news was received that the dispute was finally settled. So ended the third and final 'Cod War'.

What did the country gain out of all this? Nothing very much apart from a hefty repair bill on ships that were never designed for the task they were called upon to perform. Iceland kept her 200-mile territorial limit and fish stocks continued to decline. What price cod and chips?

By Chris Handley

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