history

THE HISTORY

OF SHOPPOLIS ISLANDS

[go to personal papers] [main menu] [return to history table of contents]

The Closed Door, November 1942

     As a result of an assortment of correlated material released in 1993, the story of the impressive, and now silent corvette moored at the Peace Memorial has been pieced together from over one hundred documents. It was late in 1942, November, to be exact, that a small group of staff members gathered in Shoppolis City with the idea of doing something about the World War that was spreading around the globe. Not only was the West involved, but the Pacific was part of the siege. Since SI citizens, in all countries, were embedded in all levels of society, government, military and commercial sectors, it was thought that, perhaps, instead of just having these well-placed people and groups applied purely as defensive measures, could they be applied to bring about peace? The decision among them was, yes. Thus began the project known as, "The Closed Door."

     In January of 1943, in a small, sterile building at the end of a small, windblown shipyard in Victoria, British Columbia, Canada, a mixed group of people congregated. It was wet cold, and the collection of men and one woman moved about the cramped interior like stuffed animals. A tall man called the room to order and stated flatly that the group had been convened to begin the steps required to construct a special vessel built on the scantlings of the Flower-class corvette because of the speed at which it could be created, its accommodating size, its low-profile and its low cost. He motioned to another person who moved to his side. He pointed out loudly that this ship was also the only one available for their impending mission, and that it would have to do. Some smiled, and some didn't.

     The man, obviously injured in some manner, began to explain the peculiarities of this type of vessel pointing out its basically uncomfortable seagoing character, its wet nature, and its cramped interior. He went on to say that the Flower-class was an excellent model from which to work for the mission intended, but that this vessel would have to be substantially modified to improve her character and accommodations. The design was quite seaworthy and outperformed many of her sister escorts and destroyers in typhoon-level weather, even though she pitched and rolled to distraction under normal conditions. The craft was to be patterned more after the Royal Navy version than the Royal Canadian Navy version and would offer a long forecastle and an SI-designed clippered bow. She would only need about eight officers, a surgeon, and approximately 50 seaman. He disolved into a long line of statistical analysis and intrigue, while all in the room remained riveted on his monologue. Obviously, everyone was impressed.

     A woman who looked too young to be in the small building moved to the crude table in the middle and laid out the financial aspects, the supply routes, the local manpower requirements and all the other logistical considerations necessary to build and launch this ship in the shortest period of time, namely under six months. The vessel would have no official paperwork, no official designation, no official aspects at all. She would be owned by Shoppolis Islands and be subsidized by "interested parties" around the world. Before she stepped back away from the table, she reminded everyone that there were no people in this building, on this staff, who were not citizens of SI, and to remember this when finding themselves in the company of men and women who were not. Many of the support personnel would actually be from opposing forces in the war but would be committed to the proposition, that peaceful means could be devised to end, or at least, shorten the war. To the world, this project would not exist, and the ship would be the ship that never was. It appeared that almost everyone reacted in some subtle manner to the idea that Axis personnel would be involved, but no one asked any questions nor offered any comments.

     A short man with square features moved to the table and said that the ship would be equipped to defend itself from the air using conventional means, but any surface intruder would be disabled using specially designed torpedoes that could be launched from a long distance, would not give off a signature identifying themselves (or a wake in keeping with the Japanese Type 95s), and when exploded within 100 yards of the ship, would render all electrical equipment dead for up to six hours. There would be three escort ships on the surface, one American Destroyer Escort, one Australian Bathurst-Class Minesweeper (modified) and one English Hunt Class 3 Destroyer Escort. Below the surface would be one American Gato-Class submarine. The ship’s mission would be to convey a special assortment of people from this base in British Columbia along the western coasts of North and South America then over to Easter Island, past Pitcairne, then to SI. The little fleet would be quite insignificant in the scheme of the war, and that was the idea. Various coastal countries were assisting with coastal craft of various sizes and shapes.

     To augment current equipment arrays, the flotilla would be using a special communications code being developed. Additional state-of-the-art electronics would be installed in the ASDIC shack just before the bridge. Special designs would be employed to render the signals clear above 18 knots, and special compensators had been devised to account for pitching and rolling of the ship. Additional improvements reduced the errors typically present in temperature layers. The upper bridge would be enclosed, and the lower bridge altered with additional communications and navigation aids. Torpedo launch tubes would replace depth charge units, and there would be no hedgehog arrays. Because of the nature of the fleet model under which they would sail, the new and improved transponder-type IFF system was installed in each of the vessels. 291 radar was also employed.

     A professorial type gentleman, with gray hair moved to the table and told the group that the ship would be modified to provide more speed and maneuverability in a seaway and would have its accommodations altered to be more comfortable for the guests. The crew would have to be inconvenienced somewhat, but since there would be approximately 25 fewer seamen than normal, it might actually be an improvement over the standard Flower-class corvette. The wardrooms and mess would be expanded to make room for meetings and gatherings, and the galley would be improved to provide upscale food and service. Staterooms would replace open sleeping areas, and there would be additional systems for refuse and sewage. The ship’s range was increased, and her personal signature reduced through special coatings, as would the four escort vessels which were currently being altered and improved in various shipyards, like this one.

     There would be a full-dressed sea trial and acceptance testing before the ship would be released to perform her duty, which ironically, would only be a one-way trip to SI. At that time, she would serve as a location for assembly and would be retired from service if not destroyed. This last statement caused murmurs in the gathering.

     To train the crew, a Flower-class, off Nova Scotia, had been lent by Canada for that purpose, therefore, any feedback from these individuals, seaman, technicians, non-coms and officers, would be reviewed, and if validated, worked into improvements or alterations, on-the-fly. Any of the present personnel were welcome aboard the ship to practice, study or, otherwise, analyze current design and conditions. The crew of the lent vessel comprised a fraction of her normal complement to make room for the crew-in-training. Once trained, the crew would be flown to the west coast and placed aboard ship.

     Another man, quite elderly, came to the table and assured everyone that there were no restrictions on enterprise or funds. Equipment would be made available on short notice, and a number of consulting groups and individuals from scientists to food experts were aligned to serve. A number of countries had made "arrangements" to allow personnel to participate, and a number of key people around the globe would be concentrating their efforts in other areas. The fate of millions rested on the success of this mission. There was rumor that weaponry would reach new levels of destruction, and it was hoped that these might be avoided. If not, perhaps, other factors could be addressed that would shorten the war. Everyone agreed to try.

     An officer without identifying indicia, stepped up and stated that provisions had been made in and about the shipyard to ensure reasonable comfort and utility for all parties, and that the area was under 24-hour military protection from a number of forces all working under one commander. If the group had any needs, he was to contacted immediately. The area would be totally functional around-the-clock, and transportation and communications were available to anyone or any group who needed them.

     As he moved back into the crowd, the door opened, and a very pleasant, middle-aged man entered the room. The door closed, and he was assisted with his coat and hat. He moved to the table and introduced himself. He said he was to be called Mister Allen, and that he was the official representative of SI and was head of the project. He motioned toward the rear of the room where a small group was assembled. He introduced his staff by names that he said were "representative" of the person, but not real. He was said to have laughed when asked if any of this was real. His answer was, no.

     Once the meeting was declared closed, the group broke into smaller collections of involvees and individuals who studied the material that had been provided. There were schedules, pictures, drawings, layouts and more. An adjoining communications room began to buzz, and another small room showed characteristics of a coordination area for the entire project. Mister Allen moved to a small area that looked more like a closet, and disappeared with his staff inside. Someone remarked that they had to be very, very close to inhabit that area for any stretch of time. Others agreed. As of that moment, The Closed Door became official.

     On a bright, clear day short of four months later, the vessel was unceremoniously launched, ahead of schedule and under budget. She received the standard bottle of champagne and blessing from yard officials, requested particularly by those who worked on her day and night for the entire time. She slid down into the water without incident and was moved to an adjoining wharf for finishing and further fitting. The vessel looked so small and insignificant, but so special in her own way. Because rumor always starts somewhere, rumor began to surface that she was to be loaded with something special for the voyage. Her mission was much more involved and of more significance than just conveying negotiators and planners to SI from a northern port. After arriving in SI, it was revealed that she was carrying gold ingots in her belly as ballast.

     Built cleverly into the lowest regions of the vessel, six tons of gold bars weighing approximately forty pounds each and valued, per bar, at almost $20,000, became part of the ship’s structure. The balance of the ballast requirement was provided in bars of lead and tanks of water. The gold would be taken to SI and applied in ways compatible with arranging for a war to end or be shortened. The gold had been collected from SI citizens, and other parties, and subsequently, formed into bars. In all scenarios, the staff at SI believed the best place to bring all this together would be in the Canadian area of the globe, and the best place from which to manage and negotiate would be Shoppolis Islands.

"The Ship That Never Was," Moored at her berth in Shoppolis Harbor

     The actual voyage, from rendezvous to SI, spanned a period of 38 days in various weather conditions. As anticipated, there were no attacks of any kind. The voyage was uneventful but tedious. The passenger list grew as people came aboard from various launches and yachts all along the way. The list was complete as the small group turned west and made its way toward Easter Island. The twenty-four passengers had their meetings and gatherings as if they were ashore, and some lasted into the depths of night. Many questioned why the passengers were taking a ship to SI, when flying might have been more efficient, but no one asked formally, therefore, no one answered formally. Since no one knows for sure who was actually on the ships, because no records were kept, there has been no way to verify nor inquire. It is hoped that now, since so much time has passed, that more documents pertaining to this voyage will surface in the future, perhaps from private collections in families around the world.

     After the ship arrived in SI, she was moored in Shoppolis Harbor. The escort vessels blended into the horizons and disappeared from site. No one knew the names of the ships; no one knew the name of any crewman on those ships. No pictures were taken, and no records were kept. The ship remained a meeting place for over two months, then, one-by-one, passengers left the islands on planes, ships and yachts. The Executive Staff remained silent about the decisions made by the group, and the gold was removed in sealed boxes and placed into the vaults in the City. The removed ballast was replaced with lead ingots in similar boxes. To this day, no one knows what effect was gained by the meetings, or if the war was ended earlier or not. What is known, is that there is a ship, and it is known that it sailed one voyage and carried gold to SI. Meetings were held, and the ship remained in SI, and that is all. The ship sat in casual and no efforts seemed to be underway, until, in 1947, the Peace Memorial was planned, and in 1949 built. Of the original crew, only the Captain and four of his officers remained on Shoppolis Islands. They are the only five out of all who attended, whose identities are known today.

     Within site of the Prize Mary Landing is the Shoppolis Islands Peace Memorial, dedicated to all of those through recorded history who have served their respective nations with honor by serving in their country's navy, ashore or at sea. To understand the purpose of this memorial, at the south end of the Bay on Bayline Drive, and to learn more of the building and its ship, we must go back a few years....... In the Summer of 1943, a long, gray ship slid quietly to a commercial wharf in Shoppolis Bay. She was unmarked; no name, no number, no designations, and the crew all wore white shirts and black trousers. Officers had simple billed officers caps devoid of gold or insignia, and the crew of fifty-one wore typical navy caps cocked in various directions. When the Chairman of the SI Executive Staff, the Honorable Sheets Atella, was finally brought aboard, he hesitated on the gangway and looked aft for the ship's colors. On the staff flew no flag; there were none on the masts. He turned respectfully toward the stern, saluted anyway, and turned to the officers whom he also saluted. He received a salute in return from Captain Blaze Juarez and then from his Executive Officer, Hadyn White as well as the Officer of the Deck, Pinto Ray, in turn.

     Aboard the ship were twenty-four passengers comprising an ethnic mix of private business and industry representatives, from many countries around the world, along with key military and government officials. They conducted over two month's of meetings aboard the warship to talk about the War and see if anything could be done about it. From this long meeting came solutions that were instrumental in closing the Second World War early, or so it is supposed. Had these men and women not met, the war could have gone on for years, but they did, and it didn't. In 1945 the war was over, and the few quiet individuals of extraordinary commitment who negotiated for hours upon hours blended back to their places in business and industry. Each felt, as we do today, that Shoppolis Islands remains the perfect place to do business in a peaceful environment especially when thousands of lives are at stake. We have no current record of who these extraordinary individuals were since anonymity was part of the deal, but we will never forget them. In part, this memorial is dedicated to them.

     When the engines were stopped, they, as the rest of the ship's systems, would remain operable, but would not be applied again until June of 2001 when the retired corvette was remanned (with two of her original crew) and solemnly moved around the islands in honor of Captain Juarez whose coffin lay on the foredeck. Assigned to the coffin remained the honor guard comprising the two living officers, Boyce Rosen and Miller Rice (partners in the Seaside Restaurant), SI Harbor Master Ivory Meeks, Commodore Lacy Faint, commander of the SI Coast Guard, Juan Juarez Smith (captain's grandson), and the Honorable Waldo Aldonis, current SI Executive Assistant Staff Director.

     The Peace Memorial, to all those who fought on the seas or supported those who did, is not nation-specific, war-specific, sex-specific or anything like that. Even the ship is generic and serves, in part, like the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier. It is the embodiment of All Seaman Everywhere from All Times. It is a memorial to all those who performed their duties in the names of their countries regardless of the political or geographical losses or gains realized today. The name list will continue to grow until the last sailor on the last ship or the last sailor at the last desk is represented.

     After the ceremony, the ship was taken to NavyShips and completely overhauled for the first time. The wharf, at which the corvette sits, was reconstructed in 1962, but it wasn't until 1980 that the final memorial, with its peaked masts and sails, was erected. It was designed by Grayson Kellogg, of Perth Australia, and constructed by our own Benjamin Perry of Perry's Point. The open building is a plain corridored structure with names engraved in marble. There is a small enclosed room for Shoppolis Islands artifacts and other memorabilia. The basement serves as offices for the maintenance of the historical waterfronts of SI. At land's end, where the plain gangplank rides on the quay, a single honor guard, dressed alternately in various uniforms of crews from around the world, watches over the parade of admirers, the curious, and those who use the ship as a quiet place to contemplate the world. The golden mooring lines, secured to black bollards, are changed each year in a bay-wide celebration.

[go to personal papers] [main menu] [return to history table of contents]