Following on from our AGM last month, we’ve decided to keep the membership fee at £5 for 2026, remarkably good value for all we do.
To renew, please pay by bank transfer as usual. We don’t like putting our bank account details on public view so if you’d like them please send an email to friendsofLV50@gmail.com and we’ll send them to you.
If you’re an existing member you should shortly receive an email from that address with the bank account details in.
To help keep tract of numbers can you send an email to the above address confirming you’ve paid so we can tick you off the list.
The real heroes of LV50 are the crew who served on board her, risking their lives to keep others safe at sea. Unfortunately, few records of them and their lives have survived. We’ve traced the men who manned LV50 as far as we could using the UK census records and managed to find some information about them and their family.
See https://friendsoflv50.org.uk/the-men-of-lv50-genealogical-research/.
There are other, perhaps better-known people, who’ve contributed to the success of LV50 and other lightships. Like most people of that era whose achievements have survived for posterity, they were male and in a position of power and influence. Still, they made an important contribution to the story of our vessel and their story deserves to be told. One of these Leading Lights is Sir Robert Seppings (1767 – 1840) who is, as we’ll see, sort of the grand-father of LV50
If you look at a late 18th century fighting ship, like HMS Victory floated out in 1765 (114 years before LV50) you’ll see a vessel adapted for a very different role. In some ways like LV50, an essentially wooden vessel, but in many ways very different.
Some of the differences between LV50 and HMS Victory can be attributed to their different roles. The Victory sits higher in the water to accommodate her massive firepower and has 3 masts to hold the sails that propel her through the water. None of these were needed in a lightship. However, both vessels are constructed largely of wooden ribs, planking, beams and decking. As you’ll see, most of the differences of basic construction details are down to our leading light, Robert, later Sir Robert, Seppings.
When HMS Victory was built wooden ship design had hit a brickwall, several in fact. The drive to build bigger vessels to carry more and bigger guns had encountered a problem. Larger ships were weaker and more prone to leaking. The planks of the hull were being continually flexed (hogging & sagging); leading to leakage. The bigger the ship the worse the problem as apart from the keel and hull planking there was very little lateral strengthening. Another weak point in ships of that time was the squared off design of the stern.
These weaknesses were well known but the real challenge was how to change the design of ships in the early 19th century? Driven by the need to build bigger and better ships to combat, literally, the rapidly expanding French fleet of Napoleon. To do this they had to innovate.
The man of the moment was Robert Seppings, he revolutionised ship design and as we’ll see many of his innovations can be seen in LV50.
Changing ship design was never going to be easy. Engineering, as a science, was in its infancy then and didn’t really come of age until the later part of the 19th century when engineers like George Robert Stevenson pushed forward the necessary techniques. (For George Robert Stevenson’s links to LV50 see our article on House Yacht Tyne 1 https://friendsoflv50.org.uk/the-hunt-for-hy-tyne/)
Innovation moved forward by trial and error and errors were very costly. Take the case of the Swedish warship the ‘Vasa’ that sank after sailing only 1,300m on her maiden voyage in 1628.
It took a brave man with support from friends in high places to change things. So, who was Robert Seppings and what did he do?
Robert Seppings (1767-1840) *oil on canvas *119.9 x 93 cm *1833
He wasn’t born to greatness. The son of a Norfolk cattle dealer, he was born in1767 and his first job was delivering the mail on the back of a mule. The death of his father when he was only 14 years old must have been traumatic but led to other opportunities. He was taken in by his uncle, a retired navy captain in Plymouth. He used his connections to apprentice young Robert to the master ship wright John Henslow there.
His work in the Plymouth dockyards led to him moving to London’s Chatham dockyard as a master ship wright in 1804. The Royal Navy led the way in ship design and Chatham was the centre of their ship building so the move placed him in the right position to innovate Here he took on the problem of weakness of ships hulls. His solution of diagonal bracing met much resistance despite its simplicity. He likened it to the diagonal bracing of a 5-bar gate that added enormous rigidity to this everyday country item
It was 10 years before a ship was built along these lines in 1815 but support from far-sighted Admiralty figures ensured its adoption.
Over the years he solved many of the issues facing ship building and these can be clearly seen in the construction of LV50. Diagonal bracing, the rounded stern, the use of iron and moving away from an all-oak construction for the hull can all be traced back to his influence.
Of course, innovation didn’t stop when he retired. By 1860 the ‘Warrior’, the first of the iron hulled warships in service with the royal Navy was launched. Progress marched on. By 1871, with the launching of the ‘Devastation’, sailing masts were gone and steam power alone propelled major warships through the water (allowing the introduction of gun turrets). Where the Royal Navy led, merchant ships followed, at a respectable distance behind.
Afterword ‘Seppings career came at the end of an era. He had been schooled in the most traditional of environments and could easily have opposed change, as most shipwrights did. His importance rests on his rejection of the easy path and his restless desire to find improvements. He was not the last of the age of sail’s designers but the first of the innovators that would transform warships forever… He rose from rural obscurity to become the most prominent ship designer of his generation’. US Naval Institute Philip K Allan August 2024
The Friends have recently commissioned local artist Andrew Aske and Royal Northumberland Yacht Club member to paint us a picture showing LV50 being towed into Blyth Harbour by the tug ‘Seasider’ in 1952. Andrew used an old photograph as a starting point but has added his own flair to make this engaging picture as you can see below.
LV50 entering Blyth Harbour for the first time to take up her new station as House Yacht Tyne III for RNYC. Painted by local artist and RNYC member Andrew Aske.
The Friends have donated the picture to RNYC and it was handed over to Vice Commodore Diane Carr at their January AGM.
RNYC Vice Commodore Diane Carr accepting the donation of the Andrew Aske painting.
Tragically a man in his 50’s died after a tree fell on his caravan as Storm Goretti raged through the SW of England. This exceptionally strong storm reached hurricane wind speeds of 99 mph (Force 14 on the extended Beaufort Scale or Category 2 hurricane) as it raved the west of the UK on the 9th of January. This is the officially recorded wind speed at St Mary’s on the Scilly Isles but unofficial wind speeds of up to 127 mph have been reported.
The track of the heart of the storm passed over the Seven Stones Reef, the first station of LV50 in 1879. Storms of this magnitude also happened in the past and it explains why Trinity House wanted an extra strong vessel here.
Pity the poor crew of any ship caught in such condition. Thankfully most ships would have headed for harbour before the worst hit but not a lightship crew.
Imagine the terror of being on a lightship in a hurricane! No escape without an engine, impossible to go on deck, huddling below and hoping the anchour holds.
On Tuesday 2 December, Day Two of the epic three-day road trip, National Historic Ships UK Resources Manager Paula Palmer and Council of Experts member (and Royal Museums Greenwich Curator of Ship Models and Small Boats) Simon Stephens visited Newcastle and Blyth.
In Blyth, Northumberland, they met the Friends of LV50, the volunteer group maintaining the historic wooden light vessel ‘Tyne’.
Built in 1879, H.Y. TYNE III is one of the last remaining wooden lightships afloat, now used as the headquarters of the Royal Northumberland Yacht Club. It is listed on the National Historic Fleet, for vessels of pre-eminent national or regional significance.
The lightship is an important educational resource as part of Port of Blyth STEM programme. The Friends of LV50 have a wealth of material available on their website including animation, learning materials for schools and a virtual tour. Tours or visits can be arranged via contacting the Friends through the website.
Thanks to Lester, Mike, Dorothy, Diane, Frank (and also Tony)
When we get children onboard LV50 an essential part of the tour is life on board a lightship. The discussion will always wind around to what did they eat. We’ll tell them that LV50 had no electricity so couldn’t have a fridge or freezer, they had to do their own cooking and more importantly, bring their own food on to last up to 2 months. So what food could they bring? Once they’ve got over horror of life without pizza, no chicken nuggets and absolutely no ‘pop’, the conversation often comes around to tin cans.
We’ve generally pooh poohed the idea. ‘Tin cans weren’t around then’, ‘nobody had them’ or ‘they weren’t really around until WW1’ we’d dismissively comment. Not because we’d ever really looked at the question, just that we’d never heard anyone talk about tin cans in the1890’s. Is this true or is it one of those lies we’ve been telling small children? We thought it was about time to find out.
The story turned out to be much more interesting than we thought. The humble tin can was central to British naval dominance of the world, an essential part of the dark web of colonialism and one of the technologies that enabled the mass destruction of the world wars. Was the tin can responsible for the death of millions of soldiers?
To read the rest of the story on our website Click here.
It might not change your mind, but you’ll never look at a tin of beans again in the same way.
We’ll be there between 10 and 4PM so if you’re around come and meet the tour team.
What about volunteering to help on part of a tour yourself? Learn a new skill and help people better understand the history of this remarkable vessel and its place in history.
Just because it’s the last open day doesn’t mean you can’t visit us. We’re happy to welcome organised group visits at any time, provided you give us a bit of notice.
Thanks to the Crete Fleet Team who are the source of much of the historical information about the Cretehatch and the rest of the fleet. For more information, see their excellent website at thecretefleet.com.
Early on the morning of Wednesday 26 October 1949, a strong gust of wind blew in the windows of George Davidson’s shop in West Percy Street, North Shields. The wind ‘robbed’ the shop window of its collection of men’s wear and disposed of the garments down the street. George got most of it back after a wild chase.
The trousers, jackets, and shirts strewn along the street were not the only casualties of the storm that battered NW Europe. The Holyhead lifeboat rescued eight of the crew of the ‘Mayflower’ that had been driven onshore, the Blyth bound collier ‘Archglen’ was driven onshore at Dover by 70 mph winds and the crew rescued by the Dover lifeboat, and off the Lizard in Cornwall the coaster ‘Yew Park’ was rescued by the aircraft carrier, ‘Illustrious.’ Closer to home, House Yacht Tyne II (HYT II), the predecessor of LV50 as headquarters of the Royal Northumberland Yacht Club, turned over in Blyth’s South Harbour. Record gusts of 72 mph blowing directly from the North capsized the vessel and nearly drowned the steward and stewardess who lived on board.
The wreck of the House Yacht Tyne II, the Cretehatch.
Charles and Jean Wilson were woken up by the sound of a dinghy moored under the stern of the boat knocking against the vessel. Charles went to investigate but soon dashed back to tell Jean that they must abandon the house yacht. Jean wanted to get properly dressed but Charles fortunately insisted they go immediately. Jean just had time to take down an overcoat from a peg and managed to leap for the jetty in her night cloth before the boat went down. Jean said, ‘It was all over in less than two minutes, we have lost everything’. The Wilsons were naturally badly shaken, but it was also a disaster for the club.
Imagine the chaotic scene in the morning: the upturned hull of House Yacht Tyne II in the water surrounded by many small craft that had been either sunk outright or so badly damaged that they were ruined (see photo above).
This was not the end of the club’s troubles with the vessel, as we’ll see later, but now’s a good time to look a bit more in detail at HYT II, as she was no ordinary boat.
She was launched on 29 July 1919 in Aberdeen as the ‘Cretehatch,’ a ferro concrete tug, part of the Crete-fleet of tugs and barges designed and built at the end of the First World War or just after to compensate for the acute shortage of steel.
The Cretehatch at sea soon after her launch.
During the war, almost 5,000 allied merchant vessels had been sunk. To compensate , the British government funded a £4 million (£196 million today) programme to construct 24 steam tugs and 130 barges from steel-reinforced concrete. It was claimed they were cheaper and faster to build using unskilled labour and cost less to maintain. In the end, 12 tugs and 52 barges were completed.
The plans for a ferro-concrete tug such as the Cretehatch.
Building a ferro-concrete tug.
In 1922, 45 Crete ships (tugs and barges) were sold to the Crete Shipping Company. However, concrete ships were heavier than conventional vessels, more expensive to operate. They were classed as experimental and therefore were more expensive to insure and required expensive annual surveys. The Crete Shipping Company carried coal from the Northeast to London, Continental Europe, and the Baltic Sea, but the post-war slump in shipping rates heavily impacted their business.
On 19 August 1924, the hulk of the ‘Cretehatch’ was sold to the Royal Northumberland Yacht Club, her engines having been removed, for £75 (£3,900 today) to be converted to a clubhouse. The ‘Cretehatch’ was renamed house HYT II and served the club for 25 years until the fateful day in 1949 when she was wrecked by a freak gale in Blyth harbour.
When she came to Blyth, she was modified to meet the club’s needs. Square casement windows were cut into the hull, although perhaps close to the water line, to let in natural light.
House Yacht Tyne II, the Cretehatch
She must have been a comfortable and well-appointed clubhouse. In the words of John Lowrie, a visitor to the yacht club, ‘I have memories of the panelled mahogany and polished brass interior and the Stateroom lined with copies of Lloyds Register of Yachts.’
During the Second World War, Blyth was a major submarine base and the Cretehatch was commandeered by the Royal Navy as the wardroom for WRENS. She was de-requisitioned in October 1945 in a ‘sorry state.’ However, she remained in use until she capsized in 1949.
From this point onwards, the main source of information is the minutes of the Yacht Club. A dry but precise source of information, of course, only giving their point of view.
With the loss of their house yacht, the club was in a bit of a quandary about what to do next. Some members wanted to move the clubhouse ashore, but the harbour commissioners would not let them have any land. The compromise was a temporary headquarters in a shed recently vacated by the RAF, which the club used while they looked for a new floating base. The problem remained that any new vessel could not be berthed on the club’s Wharf until the wreck of the Cretehatch was moved and no new vessel could be purchased until the insurance for the Hulk had been settled.
At a special committee meeting of the Yacht Club on 1 November 1954, Edmund Wilson reported that he had inspected the wreck with representatives from the insurance company, members of Blyth Harbour Commission, and salvage experts.
After considerable discussion – you can bet that it was quite heated too! – they agreed to approach the Blyth Harbour Commissioners for a price offer to break up the wreck. Discussions moved on, and by 1 March 1950 the club had received an offer from the insurers which they managed to negotiate up before all sides agreed on the amount. 1950 passed without much progress, no details of the reply from Blyth Harbour Commission but future developments make it clear that no firm price was agreed.
The wreck was still in the harbour and the club started looking for a new ship. In April 1952 LV 50 was identified as a good bet. After trying to buy her from Trinity house, she was finally bought from Mr. J Howard Iron and Metal Merchant of Gateacre Road Ipswich for £600 in June 1952 and she came to Blyth in July of that year. However, it was going to be some time before she could take her place where the club wanted her to be.
1953 came and went and by 1954, there was increased anxiety. In March, the secretary was instructed to make as tactful an approach as possible to the Harbour Commission to find out about the prospect of a final removal of the wreck. In April, the vice Commodore was brought in to try and get a date. In May 1954, he reported back that the commissioners were taking the matter seriously. They were having difficulty getting a wire under the hull to ease the wreck onto the foreshore to the west.
1954 passed without results and by 1955 things were getting a bit desperate. They tried to exert greater pressure to hasten the removal of the wreck and, by May 1955, a 15-ton rock breaker was on site. By July, the secretary reported that the Harbour Commission were making an all-out effort to get the wreck removed by cutting 3 sections to remove separately, adding ominously that there was not much hope of success by any other method at present available to the commissioners.
1955 and 1956 passed without progress. February 1957 brought the usual optimism that they hoped the berth would be clear that year. However, also the new information that the centre section would not lift as the chains, when in position, cut straight through the hull. The Blyth Harbour Commission were generally helpful to the yacht club but were keen businessmen at the same time. They were running one of the biggest coal exporting ports in Europe. The club were never going to receive their full attention.
By June 1957, things finally came to a head. A meeting had been held and Blyth Harbour Commission informed the club that the cost of removing the wreck was more than estimated and more money was needed. They would do their best for the club but, as a public authority, the power of officials and commissioners was limited.
Things were finally resolved with the commissioners, a final price agreed, and by May the wreck had been removed and LV50 moved to her new, permanent berth the same month. By 15 May 1958, she was in place, eight and a half years after the Cretehatch capsized.
The ghost of House Yacht Tyne II, the Cretehatch. Source Steven Paul Lockhart
However, if you look into some of the corners of Blyth Harbour you can still see blocks of reinforced concrete scattered about, the ghost of the Cretehatch.
For a fuller version of this article see our website
Our Chairman, Lester Sher, has been awarded Rotary Blyth Citizen of the Year. The award was given in recognition of his contribution to Blyth and its people.
In Lester’s own words, it is a recognition of all the hard work done by the Friends and accepts the award on their behalf.
Others have commented:
‘That’s a well deserved recognition of your dedication to LV50! Congratulations!’
‘Lester that is so well deserved and fabulous. Hugely merited and many congratulations’
Very well deserved Lester. The award is well written and all true
