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      ALISTAIR MACLEAN

      Sea Thrillers

       San Andreas The Golden Rendevous Seawitch Santorini

      Table of Contents

       Cover

       Title Page

       The Golden Rendezvous

       Seawitch

       Santorini

       About the Author

       Also by the Author

       Copyright

       About the Publisher

      

      ALISTAIR MACLEAN

       San Andreas

       Dedication

       To David and Judy

      Table of Contents

       Cover

       Title Page

       Chapter Twelve

       Chapter Thirteen

       Map

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       Prologue

      There are three distinct but inevitably interlinked elements in this story: the Merchant Navy (officially the Mercantile Marine) and the men who served in it: Liberty Ships: and the units of the German forces, underseas, on the seas and in the air, whose sole mission was to seek out and destroy the vessels and crews of the Merchant Navy.

      1 At the outbreak of war in September 1939 the British Merchant Navy was in a parlous state indeed – ’pitiable’ would probably be a more accurate term. Most of the ships were old, a considerable number unseaworthy and some no more than rusting hulks plagued by interminable mechanical breakdowns. Even so, those vessels were in comparatively good shape compared to the appalling living conditions of those whose misfortune it was to serve aboard those ships.

      The reason for the savage neglect of both ships and men could be summed up in one word – greed. The fleet owners of yesteryear – and there are more than a few around today – were grasping, avaricious and wholly dedicated to their high priestess – profits at all costs, provided that the cost did not fall on them. Centralization was the watchword of the day, the gathering in of overlapping monopolies into a few rapacious hands. While crews’ wages were cut and living conditions reduced to barely subsistence levels, the owners grew fat, as did some of the less desirable directors of those companies and a considerable number of carefully hand-picked and favoured shareholders.

      The dictatorial powers of the owners, discreetly exercised, of course, were little short of absolute. Their fleets were their satrap, their feudal fiefdom, and the crews were their serfs. If a serf chose to revolt against the established order, that was his misfortune. His only recourse was to leave his ship, to exchange it for virtual oblivion, for, apart from the fact that he was automatically blackballed, unemployment was high in the Merchant Navy and the few vacancies available were for willing serfs only. Ashore, unemployment was even higher and even if it had not been so, seamen find it notoriously difficult to adapt to a landlubber’s way of life. The rebel serf had no place left to go. Rebel serfs were very few and far between. The vast majority knew their station in life and kept to it. Official histories tend to gloss over this state of affairs or, more commonly, ignore it altogether, an understandable myopia. The treatment of the merchant seamen between the wars and, indeed, during the Second World War, does not form one of the more glorious chapters in British naval annals.

      Successive governments between the wars were perfectly aware of the conditions of life in the Merchant Navy – they would have had to be more than ordinarily stupid not to be so

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