Do we need a new royal yacht in honour of Prince Philip?

Sean O’Grady considers the pros and cons of a floating tribute to the Duke of Edinburgh

HMY Britannia was decommissioned in 1997 (AFP via Getty)

Just before the coronavirus crisis swamped his premiership last year, Boris Johnson travelled to Greenwich to extol the opportunities of Brexit and champion a country that sat “on the slipway”, ready to take off, alluding to Britain’s rich maritime history and “the anchors, cables, rudders, sails, oars, ensigns, powder barrels, sextants, the compasses and the grappling irons” celebrated in the murals around the Old Royal Naval College.

Perhaps he did not have in mind the grappling irons being used against French fishing vessels off St Helier, but one of the prime minister’s most cherished pipe dreams has long been to commission a new royal yacht. Will it too be making its way down the slipway at Cammell Laird in Liverpool or at the Kvaerner works on the Clyde?

It seems doubtful, as the idea has come and gone at least since the Conservatives came to power in 2010, while nostalgia for the old HMY Britannia has been strong, in some quarters, ever since it was decommissioned in 1997 and sent to spend its retirement as a tourist attraction in Leith, where its stately home decor can be appreciated by generations to come.

Then again, the death of Prince Philip has prompted a renewed effort to get the £200m project under way. Craig Mackinlay, Conservative MP for South Thanet, has been campaigning for the new yacht.

He said: “A new national flagship proudly bearing the name of Prince Philip can be no better memorial to this much-loved and respected man. I am delighted that the years of effort to prove to ministers the value of such a vessel to our country’s global brand is now on the brink of becoming reality. My latest joint letter signed by fellow MPs and peers may have helped get this project over the line. I am overjoyed.”

Jake Berry, who is chairman of the Northern Research Group of MPs, has called for HMY Prince Philip to be built on Merseyside. Belfast would be another interesting option, albeit within the EU single market and thus subject to EU rules.

The justification for a new “floating embassy” is simply stated, but unprovable. Those associated with the old yacht are always quick to point to its advantages in boosting national prestige and “soft power”, and as a base for securing advantageous trade deals and lucrative contracts for British businesses. However, it is not immediately obvious how, say, welcoming Michel Barnier and his team aboard a grand boat would have secured a better Brexit deal, or why Joe Biden would be especially impressed if HMY Prince Philip steamed into New York harbour, even with the Prince of Wales, Dominic Raab and Elton John on board, for example.

The key tests are value for money and a cost-benefit analysis. After all, £200m would buy a lot of business-class air tickets and official hospitality. Even if the new ship had a dual naval role (the old Britannia, launched in 1953, could double up as a hospital ship), the pressure on the public purse post-Covid would require the project to make an overwhelming case for itself. The thought that it might be used by the prime minister and his fiancée for their holidays/vital goodwill mission to the Seychelles, or even for their honeymoon would surely be enough to sink it.

Another snag is the rumour that the Queen is not sold on the idea, despite shedding a rare public tear when the Britannia sailed its last journey 24 years ago. Always alive to public sentiment, she reportedly views with some apprehension the arrival of a “bauble” that one opposition politician has called “a floating gin palace”. Ironically enough, the late Prince Philip, despite initial enthusiasm for the project as a showcase of technology, went sceptical on it when it became apparent that it would become “just the usual political football”, and Buckingham Palace rightly has a constitutional phobia about such things. To have it named after Prince Philip would be a bit of a posthumous insult to his good political sense.

The other use a royal yacht can be put to is as a flagship in Britain’s culture wars. Handily, it doesn’t even need to be built to be pressed into such service. Indeed, cynics see the recent “floating” of the idea in the press as an attempt to wind up Labour politicians and make them seem sour, unpatriotic and anti-monarchist in an election week. Some have too easily been inclined to take the bait and bang on about food banks, just as Conservative HQ would love them to. It has been conveniently forgotten that it was a Conservative government that announced the retirement of HMY Britannia, in 1994, the statement being issued by a descendant of Lord Salisbury, no less. The Conservatives initially didn’t commit to replacing it (though the pledge was in the 1997 manifesto, apparently to the dismay of Buckingham Palace). 

Like statues, flags and the Proms, the new royal yacht is a useful device to promote discord, stoke hatred and distract from some of the core vital social and economic challenges that face the nation. It is the opposite of what the monarchy and its trappings are supposed to be – a focus for unity. The idea, if not the chimerical craft itself, will be kept afloat in the press for some time to come.