History of the Club

 It is fair to say that the club will be forever grateful to the late Capt. Sem Jones,  who became secretary in 1929. It was due to his enthusiasm that the idea of a social  club was born. Thus, in 1938, the Association became the Merseyside Master  Mariners’ Club. For the first time, meetings were convened every quarter,  characterised by a talk, a discussion, and a hot-pot supper, with the annual dinner  taking place in November. Commodore Sir Bertram F. Hayes became the first  President of the M.M.M.C., and Capt. E. A. Woods was elected its first Chairman.  Membership recorded at the time of the annual dinner held in November 1939 was  110.   Meanwhile, war clouds had been gathering for some time, and at last the storm had  broken. Britain had been in a state of war- or “phoney war” as it was billed by the  press – with Germany since September 3. However, while the opposing armies glared  at each other across the Maginot Line and Royal Air Force bombers sallied forth to  shower leaflets on enemy towns, there was nothing remotely “phoney” about the war  at sea. From Day 1, when the Athenia was sunk by a U-boat with a dreadful loss of  innocent lives, merchant and naval ships sustained heavy losses, while their crews  suffered and died. By the time the master mariners had sat down to their annual dinner  that year, two Royal Navy capital ships, and over 315,000 tons of British merchant  shipping had been destroyed.*  “Ah”, one might hear “That’s the equivalent of one good-sized modern bulker or  tanker!”. Perhaps; but this blanket tonnage cloaks the number of ships lost-73- placing  some 2,000 men in situations of dire peril which many did not survive.  *Figures compiled from British Vessels Lost at Sea 1914-18 and 1939-45, published by  Patrick Stephens Ltd. From HMSO Publications, 1988. 

 Inevitably, World War II severely curtailed the club’s activities, for it did not meet  again until the war was over. This, naturally, was an infinitesimal misfortune of war  compared with the devastation and havoc wrought on two Continents, but it was a  misfortune, nevertheless. Could the club ever be revived again? In late 1945 a rump of  the old club met with the object of trying to resuscitate the apparently moribund  organisation, and restore it to its pre-war glory. Out went the word, and a dinner was  arranged to take place at the Constitutional Club on February 11, 1946. Presided by  Capt. A. E. Webster, Marine Superintendent of Elder Dempster Lines, it was attended  by no less than 100 members and guests. Clearly, there was life in the old dog yet!   The success of this event prompted a desire to recruit more members, and to  acquire permanent premises where members and their wives could meet for lunch, or  simply a drink, on a daily basis.   It was at this point that Capt. T. Atkinson, OBE, Harbourmaster for the Mersey  Docks & Harbour Board, and club Chairman, made an astute move. He invited  Commander F. H. Cripps, DSO RN- yes, brother to Sir Stafford of that ilk, who had  just become Chancellor of the Exchequer in the recently elected Labour Government  – to become President. In all walks of life, that which you know is very important, but  2 arguably of even greater importance is WHOM you know! Commander Cripps, at that  time a director of Elder Dempsters, brought gravitas to the club’s hierarchy and he  invited many influential people to become patrons. They included a succession of  local Mayors and Lord Mayors, two Earls, a Viscount, two Admirals, and at least two  shipowners. 

 At a dinner held at the Tudor Restaurant, Liverpool, on February 12, 1947,  Commander Cripps revealed a scheme which had long been in a process of gestation;  to wit, the procurement of a surplus tank landing craft, and converting her into a  clubhouse permanently moored in Canning dock, near the City centre! Such a vessel  was even now in the club’s possession, and had been provided gratis by a benevolent  Admiralty! This news was greeted with loud acclaim, and in the weeks that followed  LCT 7074 was brought round to the Mersey to be converted at an estimated cost of  £9,000. This sum was defrayed largely due to the goodwill of local businessmen who  cheerfully purchased debenture shares in the venture. The work of converting the craft  into a first-class club was placed in the hands of Messrs Bell & Burnie, Ltd., of  Bootle, and J. A. Mulhern.   The Landing Craft L7074, commanded by Sub. Lt. John C. Baggott, RNVR, took  part in the historic D-Day landings as part of “Operation Overlord” and is the only  LCT involved in the invasion of France to survive today.  

 Towards the end of 1947, the work was well in hand. The vessel was formally  registered as a club, and named Landfall, a name destined to become a byword at  ports throughout the world wherever, in those days, the Red Ensign was seen to fly.   Eventually, on September 21, 1948 (the date which we are now proud to  commemorate) the club-ship Landfall was duly declared open by Vice-Admiral C. S.  Holland, CB, RN. Staff were promptly appointed; a resident steward, who, with his  wife, made their home in the accommodation provided; also on the “Crew List” were  a chef, a kitchen maid, two cleaners, a barmaid, six African waiters, and a shipkeeper  to tend the moorings. For at this time the Landfall was berthed in the north-east  corner of Canning Dock, very convenient for the city and James Street Station, and  consequently well-attended.  **************************   Early in 1949, Commander Cripps, the man who had done so much to launch the  Landfall project, retired from Elder Dempsters, and went to live in the south of  England. Consequently, he felt obliged to resign as President of the club, albeit with  great reluctance. Sir Robert Burton-Chadwick, a founder member of the Honourable  Company of Master Mariners, was invited to succeed him. He was subsequently  installed at the annual dinner (the first to be held on board the Landfall) on May 7,  1949. Commander Cripps was appointed the first Master of the Club, a gesture to  mark the members’ appreciation of his work, though it was but seldom that he could  make the long journey north to attend the club’s functions. 

 Another highly respected name was added to the distinguished list of club  Presidents in April 1951- that of Capt. W. H. Coombs, CBE, RNR, the President of  the Merchant Navy Officers Federation. At this time, in a move to supplement the  club’s income, the premises were hired out on occasion to outside agencies for  functions and conferences. Thus by 1955, the club’s finances had improved so much  that the subscription rate was reduced from £10 to £7.10s! 

 The 1960’s, however, roved to be a difficult decade. That was when another  notable personality in the administration of the club’s affairs came to the fore. He was  Capt. F. W. (Bill) Skutil, CBE, RNR (Rtd), who worked tirelessly on behalf of the  club. He was elected Master in 1963, President in 1964, and eventually shouldered the  demanding job of Hon. Secretary in 1967. It was his casting vote at an extraordinary  general meeting that kept the club alive.   Incidentally, the clubship Landfall was the last vessel to make use of the Canning  Graving Dock. On May 11, 1965, she was warped out of her berth and across the  basin to the Graving Dock to undergo a Lloyds‘ survey while having her hull scaled  and coated with the new bituminous epoxy paint under the watchful eye Capt. Skutil.  After two weeks she was escorted back to her berth, and the Canning Graving Dock  was closed for good after almost 200 years of continuous use.   Early in 1968, rising costs and difficulties in administration prompted the  management committee to seek professional help. Consequently, on February 1, 1968,  the catering element of the club’s activities was transferred to Compass Catering Ltd.  In return for the profits from the bar and restaurant, the company would accept  responsibility for administration, insurance, and maintenance. The master mariners  would retain exclusive use of the facilities as a luncheon club, while Compass  Catering reserved the right to open the club to other reputable organisations for  evening functions. That year, the club’s legendary reputation was further enhanced by  the engagement of a London Ritz-trained chef. That the move north had not adversely  affected his talents was further confirmed by the handsome compliments paid to him  on the occasion of the 20th. annual dinner by the Lord Mayor of Liverpool, Dame  Ethel Wormaid.   Later that year, the launching of the Landfall as a night-club, licensed to remain  open until 2.00 a.m., doubtless provided murmurs of disapproval from the more  conservative members, but complaints were soon muted by the obvious success of the  initiative, a success which helped finance the introduction of such simple benefits as  improvements to lighting, and décor. However, the status quo was not destined remain  static for long. 

 A decision by the Mersey Docks & Harbour Board to close Canning Dock meant  that the Landfall would have to move, and on April 16, 1971 she occupied a berth in  the adjacent Salthouse Dock- adjacent, certainly, but not nearly so convenient. And, of  course, a big question mark was even then hanging over the future of the whole of the  South Docks system. This uncertainty provoked, in July 1971, the sale of the Landfall to Compass Catering Ltd., though the club still retained its luncheon facility. The sale  4 was effected none too soon, for the MD&HB made its decision to close the docks  south of the Pier Head in the following year. Lock gates would be left open to the  river, so that the docks became tidal, and filled with silt. The Landfall was once more  obliged to get under way- with the aid of a tug, of course- and seek refuge in  Collingwood Dock, a safe enough berth, but a long way from the city centre. This  move away from the hub of things almost brought about the demise of the club, as  attendances declined, and membership diminished.   Matters had reached such a pass by the end of 1975 that an extra-ordinary meeting  was called on December 18. Conditions on board were deteriorating and it was  decided to withdraw the Club from the Landfall to seek more adaptable quarters in  the city. Thus on January 6, 1976, a final Landfall lunch was served to just eight  members (out of 146 on the register) and the last link was severed.  

 Before pursuing the club’s later history, let us pause for a moment to consider what  lay in store for the Landfall . Her status as a restaurant and night-club continued to  decline, until she was virtually derelict, her comfortable fittings and furnishings stolen  or vandalised. Then in 1994, a maritime species of fairy godmother, Sir Philip  Goodheart, of the Warship Preservation Trust, became interested in this careworn  Cinderella of a Landing Craft, and was moved to save and transform her. For the  vessel was in a sorry condition by this time, badly damaged on two occasions by fire,  and sinking at her moorings. Urgent temporary repairs were carried out, and the leaks  stopped. But salvation was to prove a long, drawn-out process. Funds had to be raised,  only to melt away, then to be raised again- and again. However, in 1995 an  opportunity arose to transport the old ship across the river to a slipway in Cammell  Laird’s Shipyard, and work began on a complete restoration to her original 1944  condition. Eventually, on April 27, 1998 the veteran warship was towed to a berth in  the East Float, there to join her younger consorts, Plymouth and Onyx, and allow the  work of restoration to continue. Thus, in due course, LCT 774 would be established as  yet another fascinating unit in the Royal Navy’s Museum Fleet at Birkenhead.  

 Meanwhile, a tireless Club Secretary, Eric P. Moss, had found a haven for the  master mariners in Kingston house, headquarters of the Mersey Missions to Seamen,  situated within a cable’s length of James Street Station. With the kind permission of  Padre Bob Evans , the club moved thankfully to this more central site. As anticipated,  the change breathed new life into the club, and membership was further improved by  extending the privilege to executives within the shipping and related industries.  Nevertheless, the aura of a Master Mariners’ Club was scrupulously maintained.   However, the Port of Liverpool was, at this juncture, itself falling upon hard times.  5 Within the next ten years, the British Merchant Fleet would be decimated, and the  port would lose much of its trade to burgeoning east coast ports such as Sheerness and  Felixtowe. The reasons for Liverpool’s decline were many and complex, and could be  attributed in more or less equal measure to the growth of jet travel, the intransigent  attitude of dockers’ unions, containerisation of cargoes, and the proximity of the East  Coast to a prosperous European Common Market. All this, of course, had a knock-on  effect on all local services and enterprises, and Kingston House was no exception. A  sudden dearth of seafarers, particularly of the British/Christian tendency (though it  should be noted that the Mission was quick to cater for the spiritual and material  needs of a growing number of foreign, non-Christian seamen) left the Mission with no  choice but to close down its residential and dining facilities, including the club’s  dining room, and find new premises near the still active docks to the north of the city,  at Bootle. On October 1, 1982, the club held its last luncheon at Kingston House  attended by 27 members. However, the devoted endeavours  of Eric Moss prevailed  once again, and were instrumental in forging an amicable agreement with the  Liverpool Commodity Trades Association, whereby members were welcomed at their  premises in the Atlantic Newsroom in the Corn Exchange Building, Fenwick Street.  Rather disappointingly, the first luncheon to be held there on October 4, 1982 was  attended by only 10 members.   

 Nevertheless, for a brief season, matters seem to have settled on an even keel, but  six months later the LCTA announced regretfully that they had entered into voluntary  liquidation, and would cease trading on April 15, 1983- yet another baleful  circumstance in the port’s apparently rapid recession. Once again, the club, which  seemed to have taken on the mantle of some oriental, nomadic tribe, was left out in  the cold with no home to go to. Once again, Eric Moss found himself wandering the  streets of Liverpool on this perennial quest to find a permanent berth for the club. And  once again he was successful, persuading the management of the old Lyceum Club to  accept the master mariners as associate members of the Lyceum, but preserving their  distinctive identity. The first Lyceum luncheon, attended by 17 members, was held on  May 3, 1983.   Thereafter, for eight happy years the club continued to meet at the Lyceum. In  1989, Eric Moss retired from his labours as Hon. Secretary after 15 years of resolute  support to the club, which owes its present state of well-being to his spirited efforts  whilst in office.   Then, in the fullnes of time, the seemingly inevitable happened, and the old  Lyceum closed down. However, during this period some encouraging developments  had been taking place in the abandoned docks south of the Pier Head. The retreat of  commercial shipping seemed to have triggered a boom in leisure pursuits. Where saltstained freighters, jostling barges, and busy tugs had once held sway, pleasure yachts  and launches now dominated the scene. Their presence had promoted the  establishment of a marina in the Coburg Dock, and the Liverpool Yacht Club had  6 established its headquarters there in brand new premises, purpose-built, on the  adjacent wharf. 

 Application for a form of associate membership was made to the proprietors of the  marina, and accepted. Thus on July 1, 1991, the master mariners moved into yet  another new berth within sight and sound of the docks and the Mersey, with every  prospect of a long and happy tenure among the yachting fraternity.   But once again the bane of economics intervened- the proprietors, South Quays  Marinas PLC, were suddenly beset with financial problems which resulted in the  closure of the bar and restaurant areas during the last quarter of 1993. Once again, that  indefatigable Secretary, Capt. Ron Baldwin, went in search of alternative  accommodation, and found it. Not for the first time in maritime history, the Royal  Navy came to the rescue of their merchant brethren, in the person of Commodore J.  Bradshaw, RNR who kindly offered the superb dining facilities “aboard” HMS  Eaglet, a naval shore establishment, headquarters of the RNR in Liverpool, situated  near the northern end of Princes Dock.   Thereafter, for nigh on eighteen months, the master mariners availed themselves of  the hospitality so generously dispensed their sister service. However, it was accepted  from the beginning that moorings at the Eaglet could only be a temporary measure.  Consequently, when it became apparent that the marina bar and restaurant were to be  re-opened under new management, the club committee lost no time in re-applying for  the restoration of their former privileges.   And so it transpired that the mariners bade farewell to their naval hosts, with many  expressions of regret and respect, appreciation and goodwill and moved south once  more towards the welcoming embrace of the Harbourside Club, as it was now called.  

 All these moves and counter-moves could not have been accomplished so  smoothly without a great deal of effort exerted by the committee, led formerly by Eric  Moss, and during the past decade, by another dedicated Hon. Secretary, Capt. Ron  Baldwin. His term of office has been as distinguished as his maritime career, which  began in 1946 when he joined Lamport & Holt as a cadet.   After serving his time, and qualifying for second mate, he transferred his  allegiance to “the other Holt”, to wit, Alfred, whose firm eventually became Ocean  Fleets Ltd, and subsequently, Ocean Marine Ltd., with which he served for the rest of  his career, both at sea and as Master, and on shore as Marine Superintendent. He later  graduated into Operations Management, retiring as Fleet Manager in 1987.  Meanwhile, he had been elected Master of the Merseyside Master Mariners’ Club in  1984, becoming President in the following year. Ron Baldwin succeeded Eric Moss as  Hon. Secretary in 1989 and to the heart-felt relief of one and all still soldiers on in that  onerous capacity, hopefully for many years to come!  7  Another long-serving club official is Ron Davidson, Hon. Treasurer. (inevitably,  the duo is referred to irreverently as “The Two Ronnies”!), whose valued guidance  and prudent stewardship has long kept the club financially viable. At the annual  general meeting in April 1998, Mr. Joe McKendrick, Master Mariner, and Trustee of  MMMC (of which he has been a member since 1963), was elected President; and  Capt. John Scrivens, formerly Harbourmaster to the Manchester Ship Canal  Company, became Master of the Club, thus completing the team which, with the  committee, will lead the club, whose membership currently is 211, through the fiftieth  year of its present style, guiding it through all the many modes of celebration to be  associated with that notable event. 

 Meanwhile, life goes on, andMV , as always on the last Wednesday of every month, as  many as 70 members sit down to a savoury lunch served by the amiable and attentive  staff of the Harbourside Club. Sailing and motor craft of every type fill the moorings  of the marina; the bars are well-patronised, and the restaurant hums with activity by  day and by night. There is every good reason to believe that business is booming  under the astute management of Mr. J. Yates, Managing director of Liverpool Marina,  And no reason at all to imagine that the club’s residence at that superb establishment,  with its friendly nautical atmosphere, its proximity to the river and waterfront- a  veritable re-incarnation of the Landfall on “terra firma”, in fact- should be anything  but a long and happy one.  Acknowledgements- In compiling and writing this commemorative article, the author  is deeply indebted to the work of Mr. George Evans, whose book, The landfall Story,  published in 1972, is a source of much factual material from which I have freely  drawn. I am also very grateful to those of my colleagues in the MMMC who took the  trouble to read the original draft, correcting errors, and making pertinent  amendments to the text.