Laid down during the war for the Ministry of Transport, she was not completed until after the armistice. She was blessed with the infamous Burmeister & Wain Double Acting Opposed Piston engines. These were seemingly designed, to my untrained and sceptical eye to have as many working parts as possible, all of massive proportions, for the least mechanical advantage. They required engineers who had been specially trained as weight-lifters, while working in the confines of the crankcase. In latter days, her engines became more and more cranky, such that the personnel department threatened engineers with the Empire Star, when they complained of their present berth.

The Empire Star's ship's bell shown above somehow ended up in Victoria, Canada, where it had been given to the Church of  St. David-by-The-Sea. The original  intention being that it would be hung in a bell tower. This never happened and it remained in storage for years. In the mean time a new church was built. In 2007 the Vicar contacted bluestarline.org to ask if anyone was interested in purchasing the bell to assist church funds. The bell is now in Perth, Australia, thanks to The Rev. Michael Hemmings of the St David by the Sea church in Victoria, Peter Stacey, Pacific Pilotage Authority Canada, Helijet Transport Canada and the Master of the M.V. Hansa Rendsburg.

I had the doubtful privilege of standing by the Empire Star in Royal Docks, London, just before she sailed on her final voyage. When the other London based shipping companies discovered she was on her scrapping voyage, they emptied their various gear stores of engine parts, as she was supposedly the last ship with this type of engine. As a consequence her tween decks looked like a scrapyard, full of cylinder liners, piston crowns and the like. It's doubtful if any would have actually fitted, as these engines tended to be a bit of a one off when it came to dimensions.
On the Friday morning we were greeted with water lapping over the sill of the watertight-door into the engine room, the stern gland not being not too healthy. This we duly topped up with packing, though I wasn't too impressed and commented that it really should be repacked. As the sea staff had returned, I retired to Anchor House, the seamen's mission in Plaistow, to await my next appointment from "Fitzy". Feeling rather guilty loafing about on the Saturday, I telephoned the ship (always a mistake) and was asked could I give a hand. The Superintendent, who shall remain nameless, had decided to repack the stern gland. The diver eventually arrived mid-evening, none too pleased at being called out on a Saturday night. So I spent my evening, up to my waist in freezing cold and none too clean dock water, receiving advice from various people who had already seemingly prematurely celebrated the departure of the vessel! As the woods (lignum vitae) were seriously worn down, it was a struggle getting the new packing in, with two different sizes needed. 

The ship apparently completed her last voyage without sinking! But I never made the mistake of telephoning a ship to see if everything was OK again!

Above photograph taken on board in the Kaohsiung scrapyard of all the engineers having the last supper on deck We had been in a hotel about a week, when we heard that the deal hadn't gone through with the buyer so we thought that we might have to take her out again. So we went down to her sitting on the banks of the river. Blew up the air bottles pumped the bilges and had lunch.