HMS "Erebus" Pembroke Dock Anniversary

Diorama of HMS Erebus , Pembroke Dock Heritage Centre

Yesterday, I had the honour and privilege of speaking at the Pembroke Dock Heritage Centre, housed in the former chapel of the Royal Pembroke Dockyard. It's a modest museum, but its heritage is extraordinary, for at that very dockyard, 200 years ago to the day, HMS "Erebus" descended its slipway and slid into the waters of Milford Haven, beginning an unanticipated career that would take her to the furthest ends of the earth, south and north, seeing her lend her name to an Antarctic volcano along with a modest Arctic bay, near which -- more that 170 years later -- the bones of five of her officers and men would be identified by means of DNA. And the occasion was all the more remarkable, because in the front row of the audience there sat no fewer than eight of the descendants of those men.

And, at the same time, there was another sort of reunion -- quiet, small, and deceptively simple -- as a dozen small objects, ranging from a belaying-pin to the bottom of a boot to a bottle of patent medicine, sat in their display case nearby. Leant by the National Museum of the Royal Navy, these items were among those recovered in the first few dive seasons by the Parks Canada Underwater Archaeology team, and returned to the UK as objects of "special significance" to the Royal Navy as part of an agreement under which ownership of the Erebus (and the Terror) was transferred to the people of Canada.

I've been to a great many occasions marking and remembering the Franklin expedition over the years, but this was to me the most moving of any at which I've ever spoken. The admixture of sombre reflection  and excitement among the descendants, and the evident pride of the people of Pembroke Dock in their history was a tincture far more potent than Samuel Oxley's extract of Ginger Root, whose powers some unknown sailor aboard Erebus had once counted upon for help with an unknown ailment. It was clear that day that -- above all else, the story of HMS Erebus is a human story, one that not only harks back to her storied past, but guides us forward as we collectively ponder and investigate the meaning of her voyages for all of us. There is always work, always deeper understandings to be had -- as I remarked in my talk, any discussion of the Franklin story ends, inevitably, with an elipsis ...

I'd like to close by expressing my deepest gratitude to Tim and Mandy Payne, who operate the musuem and moved heaven and earth to get the displays in place and publicize the opening events. With them, the volunteers who are the life-blood of the Heritage Centre, and without whom nothing would be possible -- their energy, acuity, and patience were and are essential to the success of this exhibition. It was, for me, my first extended visit to western Wales -- and I'm certain it won't be my last.