On a blustery morning 40 years ago today, the nation’s focus turned to an inky patch of the Solent where a buried gem of Tudor history was finally exposed to the modern world.
Around 60 million watched on TV and thousands jostled on Portsmouth harbour as Henry VIII’s favourite warship was lifted from the seabed where it had lain for over 400 years.
As the carcass finally appeared above water on October 11, 1982, a broadcaster announced to the world: “There is the wreck of the Mary Rose.”
Watching from a boat nearby was a young Prince Charles, who had just become a father with the birth of Prince William four months earlier.
Some had been keen for Charles to get closer to the ship as she surfaced – but it was a good job he didn’t. As she lifted, the heavy frame holding her slipped and dropped, narrowly avoiding damaging the timbers.
Archeologist and diver Christopher Dobbs, 65, was below the surface as part of the recovery team.
He says: “It was a heart-stopping moment. You thought maybe in that second all of those years of work would not be rewarded.
“From under the water as she was lifted there was mud trailing off like a cloud... this enormous structure lifting off the seabed, like a sea beast.”
Of some 500 on board the Mary Rose when she sank in July 1545 only 35 survived, and as both tomb and time capsule she remained buried in the mud, beautifully preserved.
One man, Alexander McKee, began the search for her in 1965 and she was discovered in 1971.
In 1979 the Mary Rose Trust was formed, with the then-Prince of Wales as its president, to help bring her to the surface with the help of army engineers and a monstrous crane.
The ship was excavated by a team of 500 divers including Christopher, who remains the Trust’s head of marine archaeology. He performed over 1,000 dives to the Mary Rose – five of them in the company of the young prince, who was a qualified diver and former archaeology student.
But the sediment that preserved her so well meant he had never seen more than a few feet through the murk, which Charles described as like “swimming in lentil soup”.
Christopher recalls: “It was like driving through fog under there.”
Because the ship had settled on its side, a cross section was buried in the mud. “You didn’t swim through it, but over it,” says Chris. “It was half a ship completely buried, like Pompeii buried under metres of ash. We had to dig down in layers.”
The team recovered around 19,000 objects, among the first of which was a shovel. Christopher says: “I remember thinking, ‘The last person who touched this was a Tudor sailor’.”
The more personal items gave an insight into Tudor life. Chris says: “We have the brass ends of laces, combs, rosaries, ear scoops to clear wax from your ears. You can’t get much more personal.”
Some of the human remains were interred at Portsmouth Cathedral in the tomb of the unknown sailor, where a memorial is held each year. But when it came to raising the hull there was doubt over whether it could be done.
It was decided a frame would be placed over the ship and attached to her with wires.
The frame would be jacked up off the seabed, and a floating crane would transfer the ship to a cradle on the floor. Finally, that cradle would be raised.
But on October 9 and 10 there were issues with a bent leg on the frame. At one point the Mary Rose was slightly exposed above the water as she hung waiting. The weather was terrible – but on the 11th, she finally emerged.
She can now be seen at the Mary Rose Museum in Portsmouth.
After she was safely brought to the surface that day, Chris celebrated with the team wearing his dry suit, which revellers slowly filled with beer. King Henry VIII would have approved.
More information at maryrose.org
