The dramatic setting was a gray August day in Newfoundland, 1941. Peering into fog-enveloped Placentia Bay, a scene that a film set could but envy, the American president aboard the heavy cruiser USS Augusta awaits the British bulldog. From seaward a massive shape disturbs the somber scene as slowly the gray hull of the British battleship HMS Prince of Wales pierces the morning mist. History would be made in this desolate place, for Winston Churchill and Franklin Roosevelt were meeting to forge the Atlantic Charter, the agreement that would set the course for the entire war. Although often pictured with cigar, frock coat and bowler, this day Great Britain’s wartime prime minister chose to don the uniform of an elder brother of Trinity House.
What is this ubiquitous organization that at times may be called upon to render professional/technical assistance to a court sitting in Admiralty, administers one of the three lighthouse boards functioning within the waters of Great Britain and Ireland, examines deep-sea pilots, aids seamen in need, operates a first-class school of navigation, is the organization to which the origin of the navigation rules can be traced and when called upon, serves as an official ceremonial escort of a king or queen? Functioning within both private and public domains, Trinity House has played, and continues to play, a critical role in the maritime life of the island nation of Great Britain. Tradition and respect were reflected in the uniform the prime minister chose to wear to that fateful meeting.
Capt. Richard Woodman, author of several books on Trinity House and himself an elder brother, wrote, “(T)he Corporation of Trinity House is one of those odd British institutions which, by virtue of its ancient lineage, is almost impossible to explain.”
A mere 22 years after Columbus sighted Hispaniola, and some 262 years before the colonies declared their independence, “The Guild or Fraternity of the Most Glorious and Undividable Trinity of Saint Clement in the Parish of Deptford Strond” came upon the maritime scene. This year, five years shy of its 500th birthday, it is one of those organizations that, if it did not exist, would have to be invented. Its involvement in such diverse interests has earned Trinity House a dual (thus unique) status within both private and public domains — quasi-private and quasi-public.
Its responsibilities have varied over time, expanding in some periods, contracting in others. Several locations and centuries later, Trinity House now resides on Tower Hill in London, occupying a rebuilt facility after having been bombed in 1940 — but that is not where it all started. Although there are no records and no good evidence to support it, there has been periodic speculation that by 1846 Trinity House had gradually evolved from what was originally a religious guild connected to Holy Trinity Church to a purely seaman’s guild located at Deptford.
Located within the London boroughs of Greenwich and Lewisham, Deptford has claims to fame in its own right. James Cook in Endeavor and Sir Francis Drake aboard Golden Hind both sailed from Deptford and later, Sir Francis was knighted there by Queen Elizabeth I.
The name Deptford was involved in arguably the most important navigational developments in history. It was aboard a ship of that name that in November 1761, John Harrison’s son took his father’s chronometer “H-4” on its first sea trial — its accuracy far exceeding the requirements set up by the Board of Longitude, thus enabling navigators to at last determine longitude by “bringing time to sea.” An award of 20,000 pounds was to have been Harrison’s, but that’s another story — albeit a sad one. On a darker note, there was the 1593 murder of Christopher Marlowe in a Deptford tavern; and there is the myth that had him not really killed but writing for some years using the nom de plume of none other than William Shakespeare.
But back to Trinity House; its original charter of incorporation was granted in 1514 by Henry VIII. Headed by a master, the corporation is chiefly composed of 31 elder brethren, 10 of whom are voting members. Younger brethren are brought in by invitation, the elder brethren being nominated from that group. Masters have included Samuel Pepys, Prince Albert, and the Duke of Wellington. The current master is His Royal Highness, the Duke of Edinburgh, the longest serving master in its near-500-year history.
As a corporation, Trinity House has three boards whose primary responsibilities include:
• The General Lighthouse Authority (GLA) for England, Wales, the Channel Islands and Gibraltar. (The other two GLAs are the Commissioners of Irish Lights for the whole of Ireland and the Northern Lighthouse Board for Scotland and the Isle of Man.)
• Licensing authority for deep-sea pilots.
• Operating charitable organizations for mariner welfare, training and safety.
For centuries, “nautical assessors” have provided expertise on navigation and seamanship to judges sitting in the admiralty division of the High Court; most often they have been drawn from the ranks of the elder brethren of Trinity House. Their advice is treated as expert, given in private, and they are neither sworn nor cross-examined.
In 1840, Trinity House compiled the first set of navigational “Rules” governing the conduct of vessels meeting — later adopted and passed by Parliament as the Steam Navigation Act of 1846, setting the course toward international agreement and cooperation at sea. Thus, Trinity House can rightfully be considered as the originator of what were to become the International Rules of the Road (today’s ColRegs).
A major accomplishment of Trinity House was the establishment of the “articles of agreement” reached between a vessel’s master and crew as to the terms of their shipping with that vessel — known today as “shipping articles.”
Coming full circle and returning to that fateful 1941 reunion of Mother Country with her Prodigal Child: A photo taken on Prince of Wales from high above a gun turret looks down upon her fantail and the crews of both great ships surrounding the president and the prime minister in his uniform of an elder brother as they conclude a church service with the hymn traditional within both the British and American navies. The story ends in both reassurance and hope as to the eventual outcome of the war, but also in sadness because of what lay ahead for one of these two proud vessels. On Dec. 10, 1941, 68 years ago this month, Prince of Wales, the battle cruiser Repulse and many of her gallant crews would lie at the bottom of the Indian Ocean, victims of Japanese bombers as they steamed toward beleaguered Singapore. Many of those in the photo had only four months to live as they raised their voices to the Navy Hymn’s final verse on that gray morning in Placentia Bay:
“Oh hear us when we cry to Thee, For those in peril on the sea.”
About the Author:
Following graduation from the U.S. Naval Academy, Jim Austin served aboard both a destroyer and cruiser with duties that included navigator, assistant CIC (combat information center) officer and air intercept controller. He subsequently worked on the submarine launched ballistic missile program for the General Electric Co.’s Ordnance Division. He holds a U.S. Coast Guard master’s license and writes frequently on ship collisions as seen through the twin lenses of the navigation rules and maritime law. He’s a retired physician living in Burlington, Vt.
