It was the second phase of my career in the Merchant Navy, and the step to the promotion that really marked me out from the crowd and secured my future. The move from Officer of the Watch (OOW), to Chief Mate Unlimited.
Obtaining this licence would mean that you would be qualified to go on and take partial command of any Merchant Ship in the world, for likely 12 hours a day. As second in command to the Master (Master = ‘Captain’ to most folk), it is a real game-changer in your career as a seafarer.
The licence can almost automatically be converted to a Captain’s licence for smaller ships, after a certain period of sea service. And since you might never see an examiner again before taking command of a ship, the Coastguard in the UK really gives you the business at your Chief Mate’s examination. I mean, really. Like, nervous breakdown, marriages ruined, visa’s rescinded, bankruptcy, family disowning, all-consuming if you mess it up, business.
I personally didn’t see my wife, or newborn daughter for almost 9 months of her first year of life to do my Mates exam and sea time. Largely due to the fact we were resident in South Carolina at the time, but I had to go to college in Glasgow to sit my exam. I was self-financed, young, ambitious and pushing hard. Shit was real.
In preparation for this mega-exam, our class of around 40 would-be Master Mariners would sit around the classroom and be grilled by an experienced Master. Our solutions to proposed hypotheticals were dissected and ridiculed, daily.
One particular scenario was particularly revealing to me, and I think of it to this day:
‘You are Master of a vessel that has discovered stowaways after leaving port. When discovered, the stowaways became hostile and had to be restrained by the crew. Since this event, they have been confined to quarters, with a guard outside their door on 24-hr watch.
Before reaching the next port, the ship has a collision and starts to sink. You plan to give the order to abandon ship in the next 5 minutes. What do you do with the stowaways?’.
To me, the answer was obvious. If worried about security, prepare a separate liferaft for the stowaways and attach a towing line to the main survival craft/lifeboat. Keep them alive, but separate.
The rest of the class shocked me.
95% of the class answered, ‘let the stowaways go down with the ship’. One person, (the only female in the room), actually said ‘fuck ‘em’. This was followed by a burst of rapturous laughter sweeping the room.
This chilling insight into other people’s minds was not the only example of a malevolent love of power, displayed by my peers. People at a stage in life where they should be desperate to appear mature and level-headed, not power-seeking demons, if you ask me.
I was certain at that moment that I was the only one in the room who had experienced a member of their household being murdered.
There was more.
Scenario 2:
‘You are called to the bridge in the night. There is a fire alarm in the engine room. You muster all of the crew to action stations, but the 2nd Engineer is missing. A search of the accommodation confirms that he is not to be found anywhere else, and so must be in the engine room.
Before the firefighting search and rescue team are ready to enter, it becomes clear that the fire has spread to multiple compartments, and cannot be contained.
You have a fixed CO2 system that will flood the compartment with gas, smothering the fire. However, if he is still alive, the second engineer would also be smothered.
What is your action’?
The real Master (an intensely modern, ambitious and fiercely direct man of Indian origin, the new breed of capitalistic Indian man, sharp suit, nice haircut. Not the old Micahel Palin, ‘wot-wot’, ex-empire fake-oxbridge accent kind, found on Merchant ships of old), went around more than two-thirds of the class before coming to me. Each of whom answered: ‘that’s easy, pull the switch, gas him, save the ship’.
When he arrived at me, I said, ‘well, it depends’.
‘On what, exactly, Mr Campbell’?
All sociopathic eyes were on me at this point.
‘Well, sir. On a lot of things. Why can’t we just abandon ship, and give the guy a bit of time to get out of the escape hatches on his own?’
Captain Fierce swaggered around the room for a minute, silent. His finger wagged lazily at me, as he made eye contact with everyone else.
‘Very good. You see this everyone……. Lateral thinker.’
‘If the ship is carrying Liquefied Natural Gas, and is basically a 200,000 ton explosive, then there is no point going to the liferaft. Yes, release the gas, because in that case, the crater from an explosion will be so large, fucking Nemo will never make it home, and flipper will be doing a disco dance on the bloody moon.’
‘However, 99% of you are carrying bananas and plastic lighters from China. You gas this poor bastard for no reason, congratulations, you are now going to jail, and blaming the government for ‘criminalising the seafarer’.
(You really need to imagine the half-Indian, half-Glaswegian accent for the full effect, but I loved Captain Fierce in this moment).
And that is how I learned that almost everyone is a borderline psychopath, who loves power more than virtue.
Once you notice this fact, you see it all around. Both in real life and in fiction. But especially in politics. Maybe at your place of work?
When your favourite Star Trek captain has to ‘sacrifice’ a redshirt. When that handsome world war 2 captain ‘did what he had to do’, and just begs the generals to ‘think of the boys’, and the general says, ‘we make these decisions everyday son, and I agonise over every one of them’, before going back to his boozy luncheon at the officer’s mess. And when your lockdown-loving-leaders say, ‘I know it’s tough, but do as you’re told dear boy, we’re all in this together.’
These are all examples of how the ‘burden of command’ myth is perpetuated so that those with power can sacrifice others.
That is the real language of a tyrant. Acting like you are suffering, but then forcing others to pay the price for your ambition, mistakes or indifference.
It is a fetish. And now you understand it, you will see it in every hollywood or TV production that shows the use of political or military power. House of Cards, Starship troopers, you name it.
Heavy is the head that wears the crown? Perhaps. But is it heavier than the burden that pays for the crown? And who is keeping score?
That’s what I want to know.
From what I’ve seen in my life, people do what they can get away with. And if others suffer, then all the better. Corrupt leaders know how to hide it better, and the media and hollywood get a proxy-thrill from being cheerleaders to it, but whenever someone is sacrificing other people before themself, call bullshit.