Urgent warning over 'Doomsday wreck' at the bottom of the Thames: Bomb-filled SS Richard Montgomery is edging close to COLLAPSE – as officials frantically impose a no-fly zone over the site
The SS Richard Montgomery sank in the Thames Estuary near Sheerness, Kent, in August 1944, taking 1,400 tons of WW2 explosives to the bottom.
Her masts still loom above the water line and there are plans to remove them, lest they collapse on to the wreck and trigger an explosion.
But a new survey of the ship has revealed the hull itself is deteriorating, with several alarming changes detected in the year since the last survey.
Now a no-fly zone has been imposed at the wreck site by the Department for Transport, banning civilian and non-emergency aviation from the skies overhead.
One problem flagged up by the survey is that the front half of the ship – which broke in two as it sank – is slowly tipping over, tilting half a metre further eastward in two years.
More decay was observed in the second cargo hold, where the upper port side has cracked, and the lower starboard side has become 'significantly buckled'.
This has caused part of the deck above to start collapsing into the hold, with the hatch supports in this area dropping by up to 17cm in a year.
All told, it looks like 'the forward part of the wreck is splitting in two,' the new report states.
The back end of the wreck is in similar trouble.
The survey says: 'Like the forward section, the rear section is hogging and potentially breaking in two about halfway along its length.'
Further deterioration was detected where the front and back of the wreck split apart.
'This area was left unsupported when the ship broke in two back in 1944,' the report says.
'Consequently, it has been badly affected by wave and current action and is steadily collapsing and falling into the gap between the two halves of the vessel.'
If the seabed is anything to go by, the worst is yet to come.
The report warns: 'The degree to which the bow and stern may be being undercut as the supporting sediment is eroded away is a potential concern.'
One area of seabed close to the wreck was found to have dipped by 1.6m in a year.
The front of the ship has now been 'undercut to the degree where it has started to move', according to the findings.
A 1970 report from the Royal Military College of Science predicted what would happen if the whole explosive cache detonated at once.
It would unleash a column of water and debris 3,000 metres high, and a five-metre tsunami, engulfing nearby Sheerness, the report said.
Also in the firing line is Southend, which lies some five miles north of the wreck site.
Daniel Cowan, leader of Southend Council, is looking for answers.
He said: 'According to the experts, the wreck of the Montgomery remains stable.
'So I understand that the no-fly zone that's been put in is a precautionary measure.
'But we are seeking further clarity around the long term plans for the wreck.
'What we'd like more than anything is clarity, to understand what the long-term plans are.'
The Department for Transport, the ministry responsible for the wreck, said the no-fly zone had been implemented on expert advice and would remain in place until further notice.
A spokesperson said: 'Our priority will always be to ensure the safety of the public and to reduce any risk posed by the SS Richard Montgomery.
'The condition of the wreck remains stable, and experts are continuing to monitor the site.
'As part of their ongoing monitoring, they have updated advice on how authorities can further minimise risk.
'They have recommended that pilots and operators do not fly in a limited area around and above the site as specified by the Civil Aviation Authority.'
The SS Richard Montgomery, which lies at a depth of 49ft, was an American vessel carrying munitions for the allies in the Second World War.
She ran aground on a sandbank and broke her back on it when the tide went out, sinking before all of her cargo could be recovered.
What is the SS Montgomery and why is it dangerous?
The SS Richard Montgomery was a US Liberty Ship built in 1943 to transport cargo across the Atlantic
The 7,200-tonne vessel safely crossed the Atlantic on convoy HX-301 without incident and was ordered to anchor off Sheerness.
The vessel was carrying some 7,000 tonnes of munitions and it was due to carry on to Cherbourg to unload its cargo.
However, on August 20, 1944, the Montgomery dragged her anchor and ran aground on a sandbank around 250 yards from the Medway Approach Channel.
A major salvage operation was launched to unload the vessel's deadly cargo although, within 24 hours cracks began appearing across the hull and the forward areas began flooding.
By September 25, the salvage operation had to be abandoned after the entire vessel flooded.
The Richard Montgomery was one of 2,700 Liberty ships built during the war.
Hashtags
Try Our AI Features
Explore what Daily8 AI can do for you:
Comments
No comments yet...
Related Articles
BBC News
43 minutes ago
- BBC News
Staff at former Daventry BBC site are 'custodians of legacy'
Staff at a former BBC radio transmission station that opened 100 years ago say they are "custodians of the legacy".The station on Borough Hill in Daventry, Northamptonshire, opened on 27 July beamed the BBC World Service across the globe for 60 years before closing in site is now occupied by telecommunications firm Arqiva and maintains transmitters across the country. The landmark site once had 40 masts and towers, but now one solitary 100m (328ft) mast remains, transmitting digital transmitter halls at Borough Hill look very different now, were once home to huge racks of equipment, with glowing water-cooled valves, flashing lights and indicator needles in glass they are now full of metal shelves and look very like any of the dozens of warehouses that have sprung up in Daventry since the BBC the Arqiva staff here have not forgotten the role played by this hilltop encampment in the BBC days. Stuart Turpin, warehouse and logistics lead at the site, said he was "a custodian of the legacy - you're looking after the place, you're doing your best to maintain it as well, and keep the legacy going".The warehouses hold spares for transmitters across the UK - anything from a small lithium battery to a giant antenna. A small team of engineers repairs broken transmitter components and tests them thoroughly before sending them back Critchley, a senior engineer, said: "This is vital - this is what keeps the broadcast network on air."Anything that's out in the field, at a transmitter site, is replicated here at Daventry so we can make sure it's working, ready to be used again."Mr Critchley said he lived in Daventry as a child and would "look up at Borough Hill thinking 'what a wonderful place it would be to work'."So here I am." Another key part of the site's role now is what is called disaster recovery (DR).If a transmitter collapses, catches fire or just refuses to work, there are mobile cabins that can be sent out with all the equipment needed to get TV or radio services back on air, including temporary masts. Alan Storer, an engineer, was involved in restoring services when the Bilsdale mast in North Yorkshire caught fire, disrupting TV and radio for a million people."We got most of the services up and running within the first week," he said."We had DR containers placed in places so that work [on a permanent replacement] could carry on but services would still be broadcast."He added that the history of Borough Hill was one of the things that inspired him to get a job there."It's a dream come true for me," he said. Follow Northamptonshire news on BBC Sounds, Facebook, Instagram and X.
The Guardian
43 minutes ago
- The Guardian
Tim Dowling: a tribute to my father-in-law, droll master of mischief
When my wife and I got engaged 33 years ago, she immediately rang her mother. 'We're getting married, Jesus Christ,' she said down the phone. Then she laughed for a bit, then she hung up. 'She says you have to go and see my father to request my hand in marriage,' my future wife said. 'What?' I said. 'Are you kidding?' 'Apparently not,' she said. Her parents had been divorced since she was nine, but they were on good terms. 'Fine,' I said, even though I'd already basically changed my mind about the whole business. I had to put off calling my own mother, in case my future father-in-law said no. We drove up the road to my girlfriend's father's house, where he lived with his second wife. They had only just got married themselves, or maybe they hadn't yet. It was that same summer, in any case. We drank tea in the garden and made small talk for long enough that I began to hope the time for requesting hands had safely passed. Then my wife turned to her father and said, 'Why don't you show him your extension?' My wife's father and I went upstairs to examine his half-finished loft conversion. If I recall correctly, the last leg of the journey was by ladder. He showed me where his spare bedroom and office and second bathroom would eventually go. And then a terrible silence fell, into which I cleared my throat awkwardly. I imagined there was a form of words for this sort of thing, but I didn't know what it was. 'So, I guess the reason I've come here today,' I said, 'is really to ask your permission to marry your daughter.' A considerable pause followed. 'I see,' he said finally, raising an eyebrow. 'And how do you plan to keep her in the style to which she has become accustomed?' I didn't expect questions. 'Well,' I said. 'I sort of figured she might eventually get used to worse.' He gave me a long and grave look, so grave that I cast my own eyes downward. That's when I noticed there was no floor; we were standing on joists, and I was looking down into the room below us. I thought: it would be the work of a moment for him to push me through. My father-in-law died a few weeks ago, at the age of 95. My wife was with him in hospital, and when she rang to tell me the news, I did not immediately think of this 33-year-old episode – the episode of the requesting of the hand. But it came to mind soon after I put the phone down. At the time I did not know my future father-in-law very well. I did not think of him as a man who was fond of mischief, or even capable of it. I had every reason to believe he was serious when he asked me that question, and that he strongly disapproved of my answer. It did not occur to me that he might just be messing with me, that he might have been tipped off about my intentions by his ex-wife. Or that he might have already put a celebratory bottle of champagne in the refrigerator in preparation. But he had. Sign up to Inside Saturday The only way to get a look behind the scenes of the Saturday magazine. Sign up to get the inside story from our top writers as well as all the must-read articles and columns, delivered to your inbox every weekend. after newsletter promotion Also, I realise only now, my wife must have been in on it. 'Did I know?' she says when I ask her. 'I don't think so. Wait, yes, I did.' My father-in-law could also be a man of surprising and unprompted generosity, once volunteering to have our dog for the whole of Christmas and New Year, while we went away. When my wife rang him on Christmas Day – with justifiable apprehension – to see how things were working out, he insisted the dog had been no trouble. 'Has he taken the right dog?' I said. Only later did we find out that just before lunch she'd pulled the Christmas ham off the table and run out the door with it. He had the right dog after all. The day after my father-in-law died I found myself back in his attic extension, with my wife and his wife and my three sons, going through old papers and photographs and stuff, the accumulation of a long life. I had been up in this room so few times over three decades that it was astonishing to see 30 years of wear on the walls and window frames. I reflected on how a true sense of mischief requires one to cultivate a certain reputation for sternness, so as not to give the game away. Of course people who know you will eventually catch on. You can't fool them for ever. I looked down at my feet, and I thought: somewhere under there, under the carpet, under the floorboards, are the very joists we stood on.
BBC News
an hour ago
- BBC News
Luton couple with white peacock in garden desperate to find owner
A married couple said they were desperate to find the owner of a white peacock which has taken up residence in their 83, and Bernie Deamer, 81, from Cockernhoe, Hertfordshire, said when it arrived last month, they went online to try and find its owner but got no both said it was a beautiful and friendly bird, which they named "Snowy" as it is completely said police told them that it was possible it had been stolen and then dumped. Mrs Deamer said when Snowy "landed" at their home near Luton, it jumped next door, but when they started putting out food for the pheasant, it came back."He was very, very loud when he first arrived – it was like a strong screech," she said."He just eats the clover and the pheasants' food, and he has never gone for a flower."The couple phoned nearby Hatfield House and Luton Hoo to ask if they owned the bird. They also contacted the RSPCA, but Ms Deamer said it was "not interested as it is not hurt".The RSPB said: "Whilst they can be seen in the wild in India, a lot of white peacocks are bred to be white to be used at events/weddings etc for their colouration."Ms Deamer said the bird is not ringed and they "cannot give it away as it is not our bird".She wanted someone to come and get it, but at the same time, admitted she would miss it if someone did claim it. Mr Deamer said the bird must belong to someone and added: "It could be microchipped, but you need to get close to him to check."He wanders about, and then he disappears. It is a stunning bird"Mrs Deamer said: "The fascinating thing is, at night, it goes about 60 feet up a tree and then comes down the next morning and straight into the garden."She is worried the peacock "won't survive in the winter as it is too open and we have foxes and it will be horrific". Follow Beds, Herts and Bucks news on BBC Sounds, Facebook, Instagram and X.
