A ship to myself: HMS Belfast

I visited the HMS Belfast on the first day of December. She is one of a kind, and the entire experience was brought close to perfection by having the ship all to myself. Except for a handful of visitors I’ve seen on the main deck and the wonderful volunteers guiding me when I got lost, I’ve met no other human being on the lower and upper desks. So I could take my time and experience the ship without interruption or being pressed to move on by other tourists.

Going for a visit during the week and right after the museum opens is one way of increasing the chances of feeling like you are the only soul on board.

Launched in 1938 and commissioned for service in the Royal Navy one year later, after seeing battle in WWII, she became a museum in 1971. And that alone makes HMS Belfast one of a kind, both as a ship and as a museum.

Built as one of the new classes of ‘large light cruses’ that would serve Britain in the Second World War, her role was to patrol the sea, guard friendly ships, provide support for larger vessels, and engage the enemy. Unfortunately, on November 1938, she was damaged by a German magnetic mine that broke the ship’s back and put her engine out of action. It took till the end of ’42 for HMS Belfast to return to active duty, a time in which she wasn’t just repaired but redesigned and rebuilt to become the largest and most powerful cruiser in the Royal Navy.

Her role for ’43 was as an escort ship for convoys crossing the Artic Ocean to and from the Soviet Union. In December of the same year, she played a crucial role in destroying the German battle cruiser Scharnhorst in the battle of North Cape. In March ’44, she participated in Operation Tungsten, the Allied attempt to destroy the German battleship Tirpitz.

In June ’44, she led the naval force tasked with bombarding two of the five beached that the allies had chosen for Operation Overlord, the invasion of occupied France. By July, the front line has moved beyond the range of her guns, and she leaves the European shores for a new role.

Refitted, HMS Belfast was heading east, the next hot spot in the world with the Chinese Civil War and the War in Korea. In this conflict, she supported the UN forces and fired more shells than in the entire WWII, so much so that she had to have her 6-inch guns replaced part-way through the conflict for wearing them out. The Americans, which did not believe her guns were partially hand-crafted, called her ‘that straight-shooting ship’.

HMS Belfast leaves the Korean War before the Armistice Agreement ends the fighting, and she is back in British waters by the end of ’52 when she is facing the possibility of being decommissioned and scraped.

Faced with the threats of the nuclear era, the warship’s usefulness is questioned. She is, however, given a new role of support for the Navy’s aircraft carriers and as an ambassador for Britain. Then, she goes through another refitting. She gets a fully enclosed bridge and a modern air conditioning system, and the ship becomes fully protected against atomic, biological, or chemical attacks.

But HMS Belfast never went to war again, and her last commission, a circumnavigation of the globe, ended on 19 June ’52 when she was back at Portsmouth. She faces the scrapyard once again and is saved by a team from the Imperial War Museum that was trying to acquire a gun turret from another ship in port. Then, while having lunch onboard HMS Belfast, at that time, 1967, a Harbour Accommodation Ship, the idea of preserving the entire ship was born. She became a museum in October ’71, and in ’78, the IWM was allowed to take over its operation.

All this history can be seen throughout the nine decks of the ship. And can also be felt inside the craped gun turrets, where you can hear, feel the vibrations of the ships, and sense the smells of the fight. Or inside the noisy and hot engine room, knowing that you are under the waterline. Or while you are walking the main deck to see the mess decks, galley, tobacco shop, sick bay and dental surgery, chapel, and all the other services that a complement of almost one thousand souls needed for months at sea. And, of course, you can sit in the captain’s chair when you go to the upper decks. 

I didn’t sit on the chair. By the time I reached the Compass Platform, I had been alone on the upper decks for close to one hour, whit only the voices of the men that have served on the ship as a company, exploring and photographing every crack and corner that I could find. By then, I was expecting the security to come after me or be questioned on my way out. And I wasn’t sure what I could touch and what not – it is a museum, after all.

What have I done all that time? The upper decks have all the guns, alongside navigation, communication, tactical and gunnery control systems. The great thing about HMS Belfast is that she was a flagship, meaning that she oversaw a fleet. Therefore, she has a separate Admiral’s Bridge, from where he could control all the ships under his command and be out of the way of the captain in charge of HMS Belfast from the Compass Platform and Operations room.

But I had no second thoughts about touching the shells stored in the shell room and the magazine on the lower decks. I had the same privilege of being alone while going through the engine and boiler rooms, forward steering position, the 6-inch Transmitting Station, and all the internal workings that kept HMS Belfast powered and ready for war.

I honestly can’t understand how people worked and lived in those spaces. They’re cramped, confusing with ladders going up and down all over and narrow pathways rounding big turbofans to reach an array of levers, buttons, and valves that the crew manning these stations had to get to to power the ship.

Same as on the upper decks, the engine room can be experienced. You can hear the voices of those who served here, the defining noises of the engine and feel its vibrations.

I wasn’t questioned on my way out, not in an official way. But I did have a great and lengthy discussion with one of the staff about what an extraordinary ship she is, about life on board for months and my own experience on a warship years back while covering a NATO exercise with the Romanian Navy.

And, as per my tradition, I finished the visit at the Museum Shop, where I usually spend my money on books, notebooks and sweets because all purchases help the IWM conserve and exhibit all these great wanders.