On the 19th of August, 1989, a large group of partygoers boarded the pleasure cruiser
the Marchioness, for a moonlit jaunt along the Thames.
However, the excursion would come to an abrupt end just minutes after it began, when the
vessel was involved in a collision with another boat.
It would turn out to be one of the most serious accidents to take place on the Thames in recent
history.
The Marchioness was built in 1923 for a London-based businessman who used it to run leisure trips
on the Thames.
However, the boat would serve as more than just a pleasure cruiser in its lifetime.
In 1940, during World War II, it was one of over 800 “little” ships that sailed across
the Channel to aid in the evacuation of stranded allied soldiers from Dunkirk.
After the war she was refitted and went on to host hundreds of parties and discos on
the water.
On the night of August 19th, the Marchioness had been hired out to celebrate the 26th birthday
of Portuguese aristocrat Antonio de Vasconcellos.
The party would be attended by many of his friends from across the worlds of fashion,
journalism and finance, with the boat scheduled to ferry partygoers up and down the Thames
until the early hours of the morning.
That night the cruiser was manned by 29-year-old Stephen Faldo – an experienced and capable
waterman and captain.
The ship’s Mate was 21-year-old Andrew McGowan.
There were also two further staff members on board who would work behind the bar.
With 127 guests, the total number of people on board that night was 131.
At around 1:25am on the 20th of August the Marchioness left Charing Cross Pier to begin
its cruise along the Thames.
It was a hot, moonlit summer's night, and the celebration was quickly in full swing.
On board was a disco, a buffet, and a fully-stocked bar – all set up to keep the guests entertained
and well until their return to dry land at 6:00am.
Not long before the Marchioness set out, the Bowbelle, an 80-metre (or 87 yard) long dredger,
had also taken to the water.
This much larger ship was manned by a crew of nine, and was designed to dredge huge amounts
of material from the bottom of the Thames – an essential part of the maintenance of
the river.
In charge was Captain Douglas Henderson.
Henderson had spent the evening of the 19th visiting several pubs in the area, drinking
at least six pints of beer, before heading back to the dredger to take a nap before the
boat’s scheduled 1:00am departure.
As the Bowbelle began making its journey down the Thames, it overtook several other pleasure
cruisers before reaching Southwark Bridge, where it encountered the Marchioness.
It was just before 1:45am when two members of crew on board the Bowbelle spotted the
Marchioness perilously close by in the water.
They shouted a warning back to the wheelhouse.
At almost the exact same time the Mate on board the Marchioness also shouted a warning
to his boat's captain.
However, it was too late for either boat to correct its course.
Just seconds later the Marchioness was struck by the Bowbelle.
As the two boats collided the Marchioness swung across the bow of the Bowbelle.
It partially capsized and was swiftly pushed under the water by the much larger ship.
It took just 30 seconds from the initial collision until the cruiser was underwater.
Accounts of the disaster are extremely chaotic.
One of the bar staff recalled that an anchor from the Bowbelle “came in through the window”
of the upper saloon.
Iain Philpott, a survivor from the Marchioness said, "Through the window, we could see the
water building up as the stern was being pushed.
The lights went out and we knew the water had got into the hull.
There were lots of screams and next thing, we were all in the water."
On impact, Andrew McGowan, the Mate on board the Marchioness, was thrown into the Thames.
Despite this, he was able to clamber back onto the boat once it had capsized and pull
open a door that led to the dance floor.
This single action is believed to have saved many passengers who would otherwise have been
completely trapped.
Others were able to escape from the boat only when the saloon they were in was torn off
by the force of the impact.
As the pleasure cruiser sank, buoyancy aids and other debris from the boat came to the
surface, allowing those that had been able to escape to stay afloat.
One survivor recalled clinging to an empty beer barrel while he awaited rescue.
The first call for emergency services was made by the crew of the Hurlingham, another
pleasure cruiser that happened to be nearby at the time.
Whilst emergency services made their way to the scene, people on board the Hurlingham,
and another nearby boat (the Royal Princess) began throwing buoyancy aids into the water
and picking up survivors who clung to debris in the choppy waters of the Thames.
Meanwhile the Bowbelle, which had not been damaged in the collision, continued to travel
along the river.
Captain Henderson radioed the Thames Navigation Service, saying:
“I have to get underway now and proceed out through the bridges.
I believe I have struck a pleasure craft.
It has sunk.
I am getting clear of the bridges now.
I was distracted by flashing lights from another pleasure craft.
My vessel was proceeding outward bound just approaching Cannon Street Bridge and, well,
I just lost steerage.
Um.
And I don't know after that.
I can't really say anything else.”
Despite all ships in the area being instructed to assist with the rescue effort, the crew
of the Bowbelle did no such thing.
They carried on along the river, only stopping once they were far removed from the spot where
the accident had occurred.
While the Bowbelle left the scene, multiple police boats converged on it, beginning a
co-ordinated response involving the Police, Fire and Ambulance services.
The strong current of the Thames complicated this rescue effort.
Within 15 minutes of the initial collision, survivors and debris were sighted as far as
half a mile from the collision site.
Ambulances were thus set up at every bridge along a huge span of the Thames, and helicopters
were brought in to search the water.
Unfortunately, the helicopter searches, which began an hour after the collision and continued
until the sun rose, were unsuccessful.
No survivors were found in this way.
In fact, all 80 survivors were rescued in the first half hour after the collision by
the Hurlingham, the Royal Princess, and various police boats.
By 9:00am divers were called in to support the rescue and recovery process, and by early
afternoon the wreck of Marchioness had been found.
The pleasure cruiser was pulled from the water later that night, and a specialist police
team went on to recover 24 bodies from the wreckage.
Over the course of the following week, a reduced team undertook extensive searches of the river
and bank in order to account for all 131 individuals who had been on board.
The 27 remaining victims were all found in various places along the banks of the Thames,
and by September 4th it was confirmed that all victims had been accounted for.
In total 51 people lost their lives in the Marchioness disaster, including Antonio de
Vasconcellos, whose birthday had been the cause of the celebration, and the boat's captain,
Stephen Faldo.
Two years after the accident, in 1991, the captain of the Bowbelle, Douglas Henderson
was charged – twice – with failing to keep a lookout.
However, after two deadlocked juries the Crown Prosecution Service concluded that although
the victims were killed unlawfully, there was insufficient evidence to justify further
criminal proceedings and Henderson was formally acquitted.
Upset by this verdict, survivors, relatives and friends formed the Marchioness Action
Group.
For a decade, this collective pushed for a full investigation into the incident.
This call was answered in 2000 when a formal inquiry was undertaken.
The inquiry condemned Henderson's drinking the night before the crash, but ultimately
concluded that the collision was caused by poor lookouts, an issue exacerbated by design
issues on both the Marchioness and the Bowbelle which restricted visibility.
While nobody was ultimately held to account for the disaster, the inquiry did lead to
some positive changes.
At the time of the accident, there was no coastguard or lifeboat responsible for the
Thames.
As a direct result of the inquiry, the Royal National Lifeboat Institution began serving
the Thames from four lifeboat stations in 2002.
In honour of those who lost their lives in the Marchioness Disaster, 51 roses were laid
in the Thames during one of the lifeboat naming ceremonies, and one of the lifeboats was named
in memory of the Marchioness.
A permanent memorial to those who lost their lives in the disaster can be found in the
nave of Southwark Cathedral.
Indeed, this is one of several memorials to the disaster that can still be seen today
– not least of which is the nearby Tower Lifeboat Station.
This facility provides search and rescue services on the Thames 24 hours a day, 365 days a year.
It is one of the busiest lifeboat stations in the UK.
Though it came too late for those who lost their lives on board the Marchioness, the
presence of lifeboats on the Thames has made a vital difference for countless others in
the years since.