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)
There was still plenty of boredom, leading to thoughts of home and random thoughts such as wondering ‘why with all this water one nation would want to rule it’. In addition to the boredom there was also sometimes ‘chokker’, the feeling of being fed up with life, with fellow sailors, with the Navy or with a long voyage.
On 20 May, land was sighted as the coasts of Spain and Portugal came into view, including miles of sandy Spanish beaches. Seagulls began following the ship as she neared the Straits of Gibraltar and sighted Africa on the starboard side. Then the Rock of Gibraltar itself was sighted, described by travel guide Osborne as ‘a stupendous sight – I can see why it’s never been taken off us’. The Latona docked in the harbour that afternoon, but there would be no run ashore for the passengers and crew; instead the ship refuelled and loaded stores and provisions, more Oerlikons and mail for the Middle East. That morning, the German airborne invasion of Crete began.
The next day the Latona sailed from Gibraltar at 06.00, but not for the Malta and the eastern Mediterranean, as some aboard assumed. Instead she sailed back through the Straits and into the Atlantic, bound for Freetown. As she headed south, the heat became terrific. She passed the Azores, zig-zagging all the while to avoid German raiders or U-boats.
On 24 May – the day the Bismarck sank the Hood far to the north – the Latona was passing the French port of Dakar in Senegal when ‘the Skipper seemed to think something was up’, sounded Action Stations and increased speed to a reported 39 knots. At least the passengers were duly impressed; Signalman Osborne wrote, ‘Oh! Boy did we go, like an express train as though a million devils were after us’. The British and Free French had made an unsuccessful attack on Dakar the previous September, but the French let the Latona pass without retribution.
On Sunday the 25th, the men of the Latona could see the greenery of the land getting closer and closer and at midday the ship anchored at Freetown, only to see many ships already there, including the battleship Nelson and the aircraft carrier Eagle. The ship tied up alongside the giant Nelson, whose bulk deprived the Latona of any breeze there might have been and worsened the already hot climate. Apart from inspecting the Nelson, the men spent time trading clothes for souvenirs with the locals in their boats. The locals were well used to carrying on this business and were even ready with old English variety songs to entertain their prospective customers. The stay was not a long one and at 19.00 the Latona weighed anchor and set sail for the island of St Helena, Napoleon’s final home.
On 27 May – the day the Bismarck was sunk off France – the Latona was within eighteen hours of St Helena when she was given orders to return to Freetown. Apparently she had missed an Admiralty signal she should
