During a voyage on the MV (Motor Vessel) Menelaus in 1969-1970, to Singapore and Japan, we were in the Malacca Strait, one of the busiest sea-lanes in the world. I was sleeping in my cabin before my watch, which began at midnight: I had a cabin-mate, who was also sleeping before his watch, which started at 04:00.

We were rudely woken by a terrific crunch, and were promptly tipped our of our bunks by a very sudden jolt as the ship listed dramatically to starboard, before righting itself and swinging back to port. As it righted itself, there was another mighty crunch and we stopped swinging very suddenly. We then began to slowly fall away to port, but making a terrible screech of tearing metal as we went. We dressed hurriedly and headed for the bridge, to find the prow of a large Swedish ship looming over the port side of our ship. Apparently, as we found out later, the steering gear of the Swedish ship had failed and, as she was at full speed, she veered hard to starboard before striking us amidships, with her bulbous bow piercing our port side engine room bulkhead. As we righted ourselves, she stuck us again, making another hole in the engine room and smashing our port side lifeboat.

Both ships made to stop engines, but ships do not stop easily from full speed. We were carried forward, by our momentum, and sideways to starboard, by hers.

Lots of ships in the Malacca Strait were forced to make dramatic evasive manoeuvres as we plunged onwards and sideways without any control.

We finally separated from each other and drifted apart. The engineers on duty had been badly knocked about; so they became casualties whilst all other engineers were sent down to assess the damage.

The ship continued to list further and further to port: it was bad luck that the port side pumps had been in use when the collision occurred, and so they had to be disconnected and the starboard pumps brought into play. But the port pumps were already partly submerged, so could not be easily disconnected.

The ship became more and more unstable as she listed further and further to port, with water rushing into the engine room.

We could not launch the starboard lifeboat, as it would have smashed against the ship's side if we had released her from her davits, so we were to rely on the life rafts. I was sent to check that they were ready for launching should they be needed. Luckily they were, so I went back to the bridge.

When I reached the bridge again, things had become worse.

We had lost communication with the engine room; the phones had short-circuited.

The third mate, who was on watch, was frantically warning all ships to keep clear.

The radio officer was desperately trying to contact Singapore to dispatch tugboats.

The first mate was organising the crew to check the cargo hadn’t shifted, which would make us even more unstable.

The electrician was jury-rigging some kind of phone system.

That left the captain with the third mate and his two cadets on the bridge.

The Captain, who had a sense of humour despite the situation, asked the third mate “which of these two is dispensable?”

My fellow cadet was given the wheel, to try to keep the ship heading into the Strait, rather than just drifting aimlessly.

I was dispatched, with the watch-keeping sailor; down into the engine room as far as I could on the port side, to measure how fast the water was rising. I was to take an “ullage rod”, a very long, wooden cruciform shape; used to measure liquids in tanks, and shout up to the sailor, every two minutes, what the reading was, so Captain could tell if we became dangerously unstable, at which time we would be ordered to Abandon Ship.

This meant that I was the only person on the port side of the ship, since all the engineers were on the starboard side trying to connect the pumps.

The ladder on which I was standing was becoming more and more angled, and the water was coming closer and closer to my position on that ladder, and I could hear the rush of the water coming in.

I really have no idea how long I was down there: I was cold, very scared and feeling quite hopeless. Apart from an occasional clang when an engineer dropped something, or more likely bashed something in frustration, all I could hear was the water rushing in.

The ship became more and more unstable as the water rose up my ladder.

Then I heard a coughing sound, and the pump started!!!

It took a few moments, and then I heard the sucking sound as the pump started to take the water from the port side and push it into the starboard side ballast tanks.

Slowly, slowly, the list to port began to decelerate, and even though the water was still coming in, the ship slowly came upright.

Once the ship was stable, the pumps began to discharge the water out of the tanks and although we were still sinking, we managed to stay afloat until tugboats reached us, and we were taken into dry dock in Singapore.

I was allowed up from the engine room when the electrician connected his made-up phone system, but I still couldn’t say how long I was down there: I do remember it was daylight when I came up on deck. It felt like half a lifetime. I also remember being quite miffed when I found out that my watch-keeping sailor had been replaced twice whilst I was still down there.