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How iron and steel ships were reused, reworked and recycled

Learning from the Past Maritime History Transitions

Page author

Roy and Lesley Adkins, Historians and Archaeologists

Roy and Lesley Adkins are historians and archaeologists who live in Devon. They have written widely acclaimed books on social, naval and military history, including Jack Tar, Gibraltar, Trafalgar, The War for All the Oceans, Eavesdropping on Jane Austen’s England and When There Were Birds. They are Fellows of the Society of Antiquaries, Fellows of the Royal Historical Society and Members of the Chartered Institute for Archaeologists.

Introduction

The recycling of iron and steel ships differed substantially from the disposal of old or wrecked wooden vessels. Some were converted to other maritime functions, such as training ships, accommodation and cable laying, or else the hulls were turned into hulks, primarily for storage, or were disposed of by abandonment and deliberate sinking. Unwanted ships and hulks were frequently sold to shipbreakers who dismantled the vessels and recycled anything useful, in particular scrap metal.

Advent of iron and steel

In the past the main types of iron were wrought or malleable iron (an iron alloy with a low carbon content), cast iron (an iron alloy with a high carbon content) and mild steel (an alloy of iron with less than 0.25 percent carbon). Cast iron, which is hard and brittle, was made by smelting iron ore with charcoal (and later coke) in blast furnaces, and the resulting molten iron was directed into rectangular moulds or ‘pigs’. By reheating the pig iron in a furnace, the molten iron could be poured into moulds to create cast-iron objects, such as components for early iron bridges, street furniture and fittings in ships. Smelted iron could also be converted to wrought (‘worked’) iron, which was stronger, malleable and capable of being hammered or rolled into shape without breaking.1 In Jumping Jenny, a murder mystery first published in 1933, these characteristics are mentioned in relation to a suspect’s alibi: ‘Is it really cast-iron?’ ‘Absolutely. No, not cast-iron. Not so brittle. Wrought iron. I’ve ... just been forging it.’2

Photograph of the Iron Bridge in Ironbridge, Shropshire, spanning the River Severn with a historic town beyond.
This early cast-iron bridge over the River Severn in Shropshire is engraved: ‘This bridge was cast at Coalbrook-dale and erected in the year MDCCLXXIX’ (1779) © R & L Adkins 
Historical black-and-white photograph of workers standing amid heavy industrial machinery and excavated ground.
The bottom of a blast furnace for extracting iron from iron ore. The molten iron flowed into channels in the sand to make ‘pig iron’. From Harry Golding (ed) 1933 The Wonder Book of Machinery (London and Melbourne: Ward, Lock & Co), p 179 © R & L Adkins

In shipbuilding from the 18th century, the shortage of naturally shaped timber led to the adoption of iron fittings such as knees, initially made from cast iron, but later forged from wrought iron. Hulls of composite ships had wrought-iron frames to which wooden planking was fixed, but to construct a hull entirely of iron required substantial amounts of wrought iron. In the 1780s, after processes were developed for producing far greater quantities of wrought iron, experiments began with canal boats.3The New Annual Register described the arrival in Birmingham in July 1787 of the Trial, which had the first hull constructed largely of wrought-iron plates: 

A few days ago a boat built with English iron by J. Wilkinson, esq. of Bradley Forge, came up our canal to this town ... It is nearly of equal dimensions with the other boats employed upon the canal, being seventy feet long, and six feet eight inches and a half wide. The thickness of the plates with which it is made is about 5-16ths of an inch, and it is put together with rivets ... but the sternposts are wood, and the gun-wale is lined with and the beams are made of elm planks. Her weight is about eight tons.4

 

The first vessel built entirely of iron was the Vulcan. Launched in 1819 and belonging to the Forth and Clyde Canal Company, this horse-drawn barge carried passengers between Edinburgh and Glasgow. As shipbuilders began to understand the properties of wrought iron, they found ways of making merchant ships larger than was possible in wood, and because iron hulls did not need such an extensive internal framework, more space was available for cargo.5

Steel and steam

The invention of the Bessemer process in 1856 and the Siemens-Martin (or open-hearth) process a decade later enabled mild steel to be mass produced, eventually replacing wrought iron. Steel was ideal for shipbuilding, being stronger and more elastic so that ships were better able to withstand heavy seas and less likely to fracture in a collision or grounding. Larger plates could be rolled from steel, reducing the number of joints and rivets, and from the 1920s welding was adopted in ship construction. Because steel vessels were considerably lighter, less fuel was needed and more cargo carried.6 By the end of the 19th century steel was much cheaper, partly because scrap steel and iron were used in its production, as the maritime journalist Frank C Bowen explained in 1936:

Well over fifty years ago Denny Brothers of Dumbarton started to use forgings of scrap steel for their new ships and found that it answered perfectly. They began making the stems of all their sea-going steamers, a part of the ship which demands great strength, of scrap steel. They soon extended it to other parts, experimenting until stern frames up to a considerable weight could be made of scrap steel without difficulty or risk.7

 
Vintage sepia photograph of a large industrial factory interior with heavy rolling mill machinery.
In the rolling mill a red-hot ingot of steel is being gradually flattened into a steel plate. From Harry Golding (ed) 1933 The Wonder Book of Machinery (London and Melbourne: Ward, Lock & Co), p 181 © R & L Adkins 

Except in places with abundant timber supplies, like North America, sailing ships were increasingly constructed of iron and steel for transporting bulk cargoes such as coal, nitrate and grain, while ships powered by steam (and later oil) took over the carriage of more valuable cargoes and many more passengers. Unwanted wooden boats and ships were reused in numerous ways, from hulks to building materials and souvenirs, and some were even set alight so as to salvage the metal fittings for scrap.8 Unwanted iron and steel ships faced different challenges, but shipbreaking was critical owing to the need for scrap metal in the production of iron and steel.9

Vintage sepia photograph of a large ship under construction in a shipyard, with workers and cranes visible.
The Queen Mary liner was constructed at the John Brown & Company shipyard at Clydebank, Scotland, from 1931 to 1934. It took 40,000 tons of steel and 10 million rivets. From Shipping Wonders of the World vol 1 (1936, London), p 17 © R & L Adkins
Vintage sepia photograph of a dockworker with a horse-drawn cart beside a vast ocean liner at a shipyard.
An age-old transport system of horse and cart, working in the John Brown & Co shipyard at Clydebank by the massive steel hull of the Queen Mary. It was said that her steel plating ‘would pave the main road from London to Nottingham, a distance of nearly 125 miles’. From Shipping Wonders of the World vol 1 (1936, London), p 19 © R & L Adkins

Conversions

Iron or steel ships that were no longer useful, or were likely to fail (or had failed) surveys, would often be converted to other maritime functions, giving rise to complex histories and name changes. Drastic remodelling might be involved, such as a steamship converted to oil or turned into a sailing vessel, while in wartime commercial vessels were frequently altered for military use.10 The full-rigged iron ship Dunboyne was launched at Whitehaven, Cumberland, in 1888 and sold to Norwegian owners in 1909 and to the Transatlantic Company of Gothenburg in Sweden in 1915, when she was renamed G D Kennedy. In 1923 the vessel was sold to the Swedish Navy, renamed af Chapman and used for a decade as a training ship and then as naval accommodation during the Second World War. She was subsequently renovated as a youth hostel, moored at Skeppsholmen in Stockholm, and remains in use today.11

Vintage black-and-white photograph of a large tall ship under full sail at sea, with a biplane in the distance.
The af Chapman was formerly the Dunboyne and the G D Kennedy. This iron ship is now a youth hostel moored in Stockholm. Courtesy of State Library of South Australia, A D Edwardes Collection, PRG 1373/16/89

An early iron steamship was the Great Britain, designed by Isambard Kingdom Brunel and launched at Bristol in 1843. Constructed of wrought iron, this vessel was a passenger and cargo steamship for the transatlantic route, but ran aground off Ireland in 1846 and was brought back to Liverpool, with the costs bankrupting her owners. She was purchased in 1850 by Gibbs, Bright & Co and refitted with new engines, boilers, two funnels and rigging, along with increased cargo capacity and more accommodation for steerage passengers heading from Liverpool to Melbourne in Australia, where gold had been discovered. In 1881 she was acquired by Antony Gibbs & Son and converted to a sailing ship (primarily by removing the engines, funnels and passenger accommodation) for carrying cargoes to and from San Francisco.12

The Great Eastern was a double-hulled iron passenger liner, an astonishing vessel, initially called the Leviathan. She was launched in 1857, but only a few years later was converted to lay the first electric telegraph cables across the Atlantic, as well as one from Bombay to Aden. After being laid up at Milford Haven, the Great Eastern was sold at auction in 1885 to Edward de Mattos, a coal merchant and shipbroker of London Traders Limited, and was then used for advertising and as a marine exhibition at Liverpool and other ports, attracting thousands of visitors.13

Historical photograph of a large Victorian-era paddle steamship with multiple masts, docked at a harbour.
In 1860–1 the iron passenger liner Great Eastern, 692 feet long, was beached at Neyland, opposite Pembroke Dock, for repairs, seen here with paddle wheels, five funnels and six masts. From Shipping Wonders of the World vol 2 (1936, London), p 843 © R & L Adkins

Iron and steel hulks

As with wooden ships, the hulls of iron and steel ships could be converted into hulks, which lacked their own means of propulsion, so needed to be towed into position to provide floating or beached storage facilities in or near ports. Countless vessels ended their days scattered across the globe as hulks, particularly for coal storage. Edward de Mattos had originally intended converting the Great Eastern into a coal hulk to be moored in Gibraltar Bay, as The Times reported in 1884: ‘Permission for her anchorage has been obtained from the Colonial Office. The project is viewed also with favour by the Admiralty, as the Great Eastern will effect a great improvement in the Bay by dispensing with the multitude of small coal hulks which now encumber the harbour.'14 The plan never went ahead, but around this time, in 1886, the Great Britain was damaged in severe weather and made it into Port Stanley, where she was sold to the Falkland Islands Company as a hulk for storing wool and coal. This function lasted until 1933, when the hulk of the Fennia, a French four-masted barque, replaced the Great Britain.15

Black and white engraving of a large Victorian steam sailing ship with full sails at sea.
The iron steamship Great Britain after being refitted, under her new owners Gibbs, Bright & Co. In 1886 she became a storage hulk at the Falkland Islands. From The Illustrated London News 3 April 1852, p 265 © R & L Adkins
Vintage sepia photograph of a small harbour town with buildings in the foreground and sailing vessels anchored offshore.
Hulks for storing coal and wool were a feature of the Falkland Islands, and this view of Port Stanley harbour dates to November 1925. The Great Britain was a storage hulk here from 1886 to 1933. From Sea Breezes 9 (September 1926), p 52 © R & L Adkins

Built at Port Glasgow in 1866, the Antiope three-masted iron sailing ship ended up in Mozambique as a hulk over half a century later. In 1915 she was sold as a coal hulk, though actually returned to service and was damaged by fire in 1921 at Lourenco Marques (now Maputo) in Mozambique while discharging a cargo of timber from the Baltic. She was purchased for a sugar hulk by the Sena Sugar Estates and towed 600 miles by their steamer Waterbuck up the coast to Chinde, a port at the mouth of the Zambezi river. In February 1922 a devastating cyclone hit Chinde and blew many vessels ashore. The Antiope hulk was eventually hauled back into the river with little damage. By then John Ellis Jones was captain of the Waterbuck, and he recorded rescuing the ‘old lady’ in two further incidents, the last time in 1926 when laden with 1,800 tons of sugar. Writing in 1932, Jones said: ‘In this position I left her in 1926, none the worse for her many adventures, and, to the best of my knowledge, she is still up there as a sugar hulk, carrying out her duties full of sweetness.’16

Black-and-white photograph of a tall sailing ship with full sails on a calm open sea.
The Antiope sailing ship, built in 1886 and later rerigged as a barque. In 1921 she became a sugar hulk at Chinde, Mozambique. Courtesy of State Library of South Australia, A D Edwardes Collection, PRG 1373/22/69 
Vintage photograph of a large sailing ship with bare masts, anchored on calm water.
After being damaged by fire in 1921, the Antiope became a sugar hulk for the Sena Sugar Estates at Chinde harbour, Mozambique, seen here in 1925. From Sea Breezes 16 (August 1932), p 95 © R & L Adkins

A correspondent to the Sea Breezes magazine in 1948 described various hulks at Milford Haven in Pembrokeshire, as well as a noteworthy hulk nearby: ‘Quite recently I discovered the hulk of an “ironclad” lying inshore above Pembroke Dock. On her deck were a Nissen hut, several derricks, and other gear, and she was being used as a jetty at which oil tankers discharged ... I was informed that she was none other than the original of ironclads, the Warrior.’ Launched in 1859, HMS Warrior was the Royal Navy’s first ironclad battleship, constructed of wrought iron. She was decommissioned in 1883 and in 1902 became a Royal Navy hulk at Portsmouth, used for various functions. In 1927 she was converted to an oil fuel hulk and towed to the Llanion oil depot at Pembroke Dock, being designated ‘Oil Fuel Hulk C.77’ in 1942. The hulk became redundant in 1978 with the closure of the depot, but was rescued by the Maritime Trust and taken to Hartlepool for restoration. The Warrior can now be visited at the National Museum of the Royal Navy at Portsmouth.17

Photograph of a large historic tall ship with multiple masts moored in a harbour, surrounded by small boats.
The Royal Navy’s first ironclad battleship, HMS Warrior, became a hulk from 1902 until 1978. The vessel was then rescued and restored © R & L Adkins

Sinking and abandonment

Iron and steel vessels (including hulks) were often abandoned when there was no economic alternative, including times when shipbreaking was not profitable with high labour costs or low metal prices. In 1937 the Great Britain was too decayed to continue as a storage hulk, and so she was beached at Sparrow Cove in the Falklands, from where she was rescued in 1970 and brought back to Britain for preservation as a historic ship and is now a ship museum at Bristol.18 Unwanted vessels were also sunk to dispose of them or to support embankments, breakwaters and wharves. Large accumulations of vessels abandoned inshore or at sea are referred to as ships’ graveyards, such as the Deepwater Graveyard south-west of Rottnest Island near Fremantle in Western Australia, established in the early 20th century by the Port of Fremantle.19

The three-masted iron sailing ship Loch Ness, launched in 1869, carried cargoes and passengers for decades, mainly to and from Australia, and in 1908 was sold to an Australian company. She was converted at Port Adelaide to a coal hulk and towed to Fremantle during the First World War. Over a decade later the redundant hulk was taken out to Rottnest Island and sunk on 18 August 1926 in target practice by HMAS Melbourne.20 Three weeks later, on 10 September 1926, the coal hulk Tamerlane was also scuttled at Rottnest Island. This three-masted iron ship had been built in 1861 at Greenock for trading between London to China, but at the end of the century was converted to a coal hulk for use in Fremantle harbour and was even refloated and repaired after being rammed and sunk in 1918 by the steamship Dimboola. Explosives were now used to blow holes in the hull, as one eyewitness recounted:

The Tamerlane settled down on an even keel, and her deck was awash 15 minutes afterwards. A moment later she heeled over slightly on one side, and the final plunge was accompanied by a roar, as imprisoned air under the deck smashed the timbers and forced columns of water mast-high. The weight of the iron hull took the vessel rapidly to the bottom of the sea.21

 

Shipbreaking yards

Shipbreaking (also known as ship scrapping, ship dismantling and ship recycling) is the dismantling of vessels to reuse materials and equipment. Iron and steel ships and hulks were broken up – scrapped – when they had no further use or were too costly to repair. The process was much different to the dismantling of timber vessels and needed to be close to steelworks to be economic. Some work took place in dry docks, but many vessels were dealt with in tidal yards along sheltered foreshores that had a sufficient rise and fall of the tide for beaching vessels.22 In 1937 J M Hussey, a Scottish journalist, described the scene: 

... where ships have to be run ashore and secured by chains and hawsers, the beaching of a great liner is one of the most spectacular sights that any industry can offer; and it is a spectacle not untinged with sadness, for who can watch unmoved the last brief dash of such a vessel as it charges full steam ahead for a broad white target on the shore, to come to a shuddering standstill amid the roar of blown-off steam from boilers fed for the last time?23

 

Much preparation had to be done:

The beaching of such huge vessels entails weeks of preparation at the yard, where careful soundings are taken and every small bank carefully noted, so that the ship’s ‘run’ may be planned according to the accommodation in the yard. And even after a vessel is safely ashore yard officials have to contend with the strain of wind and tide upon her moorings; for once a big liner begins to slip back seawards, chain and hawser snap like twine, and only the tenacity of the river mud will prevent a second and most undesirable ‘launching’.24

 

In 1888 the Great Eastern was sold yet again, this time purchased by the shipbreakers Henry Bath and Sons of Liverpool, who started by auctioning all the fixtures and fittings, a practice that became increasingly common in the industry. From 1 January 1889, it took 200 men two years working day and night to break up the Great Eastern while beached close to New Ferry on the River Mersey. A year later, newspapers recorded the progress:

... the work of demolition has gone on slowly but surely, and now scarcely anything remains of the leviathan but its skin ... On the so-called upper deck there is a donkey-engine and windlasses, as well as a powerful beam steam travelling crane, these appliances, as well as several manual winches, being used in dislocating and hoisting the ironwork, &c., out of the ship. Those employed in the breaking up ... state that the material is almost as good as on the day it was put in.25

 

Initially, shipbreaking relied on unskilled labour, but was transformed from the 1920s by advances in technology. Before the First World War, hand tools were used for the ‘unbuttoning’ of riveted vessels, as Hussey described: ‘In pre-war days this work demanded the employment of men of exceptionally strong physique, as every rivet had to be broken asunder by sledge-hammer and crowbar.'26 The Great Eastern’s cranes operated iron wrecking balls to smash cast iron, an early use of such apparatus for shipbreaking, and the awful noise and reverberations made life wretched for those living nearby. Some months later, in the final stages of breaking up the Great Eastern, the Liverpool Mercury said that the shattered hull was unrecognisable:

... one has to approach pretty close to the mass of rusty-looking iron to discern any resemblance of the Great Eastern’s stupendous proportions ... Of course her masts, her funnels, and her paddle wheels have all gone long ago ... Internally she is completely dismantled, and with numerous steam donkey engines and cranes for hoisting up the ironwork as it is disjointed, the remnant remaining of the Great Eastern presents such a chaos of dilapidation as to be simply indescribable.27

 
Vintage photograph of a large ocean liner under construction at a shipyard, with cranes and a train visible.
The French liner Atlantique, built in 1930, was damaged by fire in January 1933 in the English Channel. She was towed to the scrapyard at Port Glasgow on the River Clyde in March 1936 to be broken up. From Shipping Wonders of the World vol 2 (1936, London), p 1270 © R & L Adkins 
Vintage black-and-white photograph of a large ocean liner being dismantled at a shipbreaking yard with cranes.
The Cunard White Star liner Doric was written off after a collision near the Portuguese coast in 1935. She is shown waiting to be broken up at the shipbreakers at Newport, south Wales. From Shipping Wonders of the World vol 2 (1936, London), p 1273. © R & L Adkins

The liner Leviathan reached Rosyth in Scotland in February 1938 for breaking up, and a few months earlier the Edinburgh Evening News summarised the process:

In yards where the vessel has to be demolished at her moorings, the decks are cut away section by section, with each watertight bulkhead as the division, and the breakers must keep pulling the vessel farther up the beach as she lightens in order to keep her within reach of their cranes. In yards where dry-dock accommodation is available, or where the berth is unaffected by tides, a more common practice is to leave the entire outer hull intact while the interior is stripped, then floating the empty hull to another basin to be demolished plate by plate.28

 

Dismantled iron and steel plates needed reducing in size to be transported by barge, ship or railway to steelworks for melting down to produce new steel plates. Around 1900 the oxyacetylene burner (also known as a cutter, torch or blow-lamp) was developed for welding and cutting metals, and it revolutionised shipbreaking after the First World War, making it possible to cut through metal with ease using intense heat. From the 1930s electric or steam-driven shears or guillotines were also used to cut up dismantled steel plates, as Hussey related: ‘In the yard, all the metal of a ship is cut into convenient sizes, partly by blow-lamp and partly by steam-driven guillotines, which can shear through thick steel as though it were cheese.’29

Vintage black-and-white photograph of workers scrapping metal at a shipyard, with large vessels docked behind them.
At the shipbreakers at Bo’ness, the San Sylvestre oil tanker is bring broken up, while the American liner Columbia is next. In front, workmen using oxyacetylene cutters are dealing with dismantled scrap. From Shipping Wonders of the World vol 2 (1936, London), p 1267 © R & L Adkins
Black-and-white photograph of a worker bending over, using an industrial cutting torch on metal.
A skilled workman is cutting through steel plates with an oxyacetylene cutter. From V S Fellowes Wilson 1926 The Largest Ships of the World (London: Crosby Lockwood & Son), p 23 © R & L Adkins

Conflict and the environment

Britain was the leader in shipbreaking, but the industry spread across the globe, with Sea Breezes magazine commenting in January 1968: ‘Shipbreaking activity during the past year or two seems to have been moving increasingly towards the Iberian Peninsula, Spanish shipbreakers having been frequently in the market for scrap tonnage of all types.’30 Well before the Second World War notices about ships being scrapped were commonplace, with foreign buyers causing unease. The News Chronicle in February 1933 reported: ‘Shipbreaking in Japan is a definite industry. She has no minerals. She wants metals from old ships for melting down and making into new ships and railway material. She bought the New Amsterdam from Holland. She is now broken up. Japan has bought old American and Australian liners also.’ One London shipbroker commented:

Since the end of 1929 Japanese ship breakers have bought – excluding Japanese ships – 76 vessels for breaking up, totalling 500,000 tons. They are of all sorts – passenger liners, tankers, cargo boats. A large proportion of them have passed through our hands. The Italians have bought 80 ships for the same purpose since the middle of last year.31

 

By 1937, at a time when war threatened, British scrap metal was in high demand, as Hussey described: ‘... during the past two years the demand for British scrap metal of all kinds has risen enormously. This is partly due to the fact that steel is now manufactured from 60 per cent of scrap-iron and 40 per cent of pig-iron, instead of from those ingredients in inverse ratio, as was the practice a few years ago.’ He added: ‘It is strangely ironical that one of our greatest sources of scrap in recent years, as well as one of the most remarkable feats of modern shipbreaking, should be the scrapping of the units of the great German Fleet scuttled in Scapa Flow at the conclusion of the last World War!’32 The German High Seas Fleet, interned at Scapa Flow in the Orkney Islands at the end of the First World War, was scuttled on 21 June 1919. Some remained afloat, tugs managed to beach several, but 52 of the 74 vessels sank. Many were subsequently salvaged and broken up. 

Black-and-white photograph of a capsized ship with tall masts and rigging visible above the waterline.
The König Albert was scuttled at Scapa Flow on 21 June 1919 and salvaged in 1934–5, using eight giant airlocks. From Shipping Wonders of the World vol 1 (1936, London), pp 743, 745 © R & L Adkins
Black-and-white photograph of a large submarine hull in dry dock, with a crane and workers visible.
The German battleship König Albert was towed from Scapa Flow to Rosyth in April 1936 to be dismantled for scrap in dry dock. From Shipping Wonders of the World vol 2 (1936, London), p 1274 © R & L Adkins
Vintage black-and-white photograph of a large warship bow-on, flanked by two smaller tugboats at sea.
The battleship Prinzregent Luitpold  was scuttled at Scapa Flow on 21 June 1919 and salvaged in July 1931. The wreck is being towed upside down in May 1933 to Rosyth for breaking up. From Harry Golding (ed) 1933 The Wonder Book of Machinery (London and Melbourne: Ward, Lock & Co), p 171 © R & L Adkins

The first nuclear explosions from the 1940s increased the environment’s background radiation, and so a need arose for steel with a low background radiation for precision scientific instruments and equipment. Scrap ‘low-background steel’ from ships constructed before the Second World War was therefore in demand, including Scapa Flow vessels. The remaining seven wrecks at Scapa Flow have recently been given Historic Marine Protected Area status, but historic wrecks elsewhere, especially around Malaysia, Singapore, Indonesia and Australia and even war graves like HMAS Perth, are being plundered and obliterated for their metal in highly organised operations, possibly because of the low-background steel.33

After the Second World War, many more unwanted vessels were sent to the shipbreakers, but due to increased legislation, labour costs and fluctuating scrap metal prices, the shipbreaking industry is now centred on the sloping tidal beaches of India, Pakistan and Bangladesh, where there is less control of environmental damage and health and safety issues.34 Elsewhere, innovative uses of unwanted ships include reefing. Stripped of hazardous materials, they have been sunk in various locations across the world to create artificial reefs, which attract a range of marine wildlife, as well as being popular for diving and fishing. As older wrecks disappear through plundering or decay, these reefs will become the historic wrecks of the future.35

 

Disclaimer: The views and opinions expressed in this article are those of the author and do not necessarily represent those of the Lloyd’s Register Group or Lloyd’s Register Foundation.

Useful links

NGO Shipbreaking Platform: https://shipbreakingplatform.org

Lloyd’s Register Foundation Heritage Centre: The reuse of wooden ships: Wrecks, timber and souvenirs

Lloyd’s Register Foundation Heritage Centre: Wood to welding: The evolution of shipbuilding materials

Lloyd’s Register Foundation Heritage Centre: Navigating steel’s past & present: The rise in demand for steel production & Port Talbot

Wrecks at Scapa Flow, Orkney: The surviving wrecks that were not salvaged after the German High Seas Fleet was scuttled in 1919: https://www.scapaflowwrecks.com/wrecks/

Abandoned boats dumped around Devon and Cornwall: https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/uk-england-cornwall-57232394

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    Barrie Trinder 2013 Britain’s Industrial Revolution: The making of a manufacturing people, 1700–1870 (Lancaster: Carnegie Publishing), pp 70–1, 95, 112–22; A J Holland 1968 The Age of Industrial Expansion: British Economic and Social History since 1700 (London: Thomas Nelson), pp 27–9; Thomas Walton 1901 Steel Ships: Their Construction and Maintenance (London: Charles Griffin; Philadelphia: J B Lippincott), pp 1–18. Cast iron was used early on to produce cannons and cannonballs – see D Cvikel, E D Mentovich, D Ashkenazi and Y Kahanov 2013 ‘Casting techniques of cannonballs from the Akko 1 shipwreck: archaeometallurgical investigation’ Journal of Mining and Metallurgy, Section B: Metallurgy 49, pp 107–19.