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How the Royal Navy's flagship £3.5bn aircraft carrier turned into a farce

How the Royal Navy's flagship £3.5bn aircraft carrier turned into a farce

Telegraph16-05-2025
With a deck the size of three football pitches, HMS Queen Elizabeth is Britain's flagship aircraft carrier – a 65,000-ton floating airport designed to wage war anywhere on the planet. On its maiden world tour in 2021, when it cruised the Middle East and prowled the South China Sea, Whitehall hailed it as a new symbol of 'Global Britain'.
Yet for all its pomp and splendour, 'Big Lizzie', as it is known, has an embarrassing personal hygiene problem. For the past six months, none of its hot showers has worked properly, because of a shortage of spare parts. The 600 sailors who live on board the ship – currently in dock in Portsmouth – must either disembark to shower blocks on shore, or shiver under the cold tap.
At a time when naval chiefs are warning openly of a new risk of a Third World War with Russia, many might think the sailors should simply grin and bear it. Some on the Queen Elizabeth, though, are clearly not prepared to – with one anonymous crew member complaining this week on social media.
'Currently over 170 days without guaranteed hot showers,' the crew member told Fill Your Boots, a military gossip website. 'For six hundred people on a ship not to have a daily warm shower is a disgrace.'
In the wake of the post on Wednesday, the Ministry of Defence has tried to pour cold water on the story. The problem was simply because of a shortage of spare parts, officials insisted, and as the Queen Elizabeth was in dock in Portsmouth for routine maintenance anyway, many of its crew were already living ashore. 'We are working urgently on the necessary repairs to make life as comfortable as possible for those who remain on board,' a Royal Navy spokesman said.
Yet the fuss over 'Showergate', as it has become known, is about more than whether sailors can enjoy their ablutions in comfort. Far from being just a routine plumbing glitch, it is yet another manifestation of the so-called 'curse' affecting Britain's flagship vessel, which has been dogged by technical problems ever since its launch.
From a faulty propeller shaft that stopped it leading a major Nato exercise last year, through to floods, fires and carping over its military capabilities, it seems to be proof of the old saying that worse things happen at sea. In an article detailing the vessel's history faults last month, a United States military website described the 1,000ft-long ship as 'a giant design flaw'.
True, not all those who have weighed in on Showergate have been sympathetic to the sailors' plight. 'If the heirs of Nelson, Drake and Raleigh are worried about not having warm showers, then the Royal Navy has rotted from within,' sneered one social media post. 'My father served on subs throughout WW2,' said another. 'At sea the crew were allowed to wipe themselves down with a damp flannel once a week.'
Others, however, argue that if a navy can't keep the hot water running in a ship, it is hardly likely to master the more technological challenges of 21st-century warfare. And they point out that in the closed, claustrophobic confines of a ship – where most sailors sleep four to a cabin – anything that deters people from washing regularly is no laughing matter.
'If people start smelling, it creates all kinds of problems in that environment,' said Chris Parry, a retired Royal Navy rear admiral. 'It's no good wearing a smart uniform if you're smelly underneath. If people have been out on deck watch all night, or stuck in a hot, stuffy engine room all day, then of course they're going to want a hot shower, and also it's a productivity issue if they're having to disembark from the ship all the time to do so.
'This would have been a ridiculous situation 50 years ago, let alone now. It's an aircraft carrier, for God's sake, it has to generate a huge amount of power anyway. And if you haven't got the parts to fix the showers, what else don't you have the parts for?'
His concerns were echoed by Ryan Ramsey, who spent three years as captain of the nuclear-powered submarine HMS Turbulent. 'In the 1990s, when I was on a diesel-powered submarine, you could go for four weeks when you wouldn't shower at all, and everyone would end up smelling of diesel – but that's when you're on patrol.
'Functionally, yes, it's fine to have cold showers, and nobody expects creature comforts during wartime, but these sailors on HMS Queen Elizabeth aren't out fighting a war, they're in dock having a refit. As always, the Navy says that they put their sailors first – but then they don't. They should not have allowed this situation to go on for so long.'
Defence chiefs point out that vast, technically complex fighting machines such as naval ships nearly always encounter technical problems at times, and that often these become clear only once the vessel has been tested by a decent spell at sea. Even so, the Queen Elizabeth, which cost around £7 billion and entered service in 2020, seems to be a case in point.
Last year, it had to pull out of leading Operation Steadfast Defender, a major Nato exercise off the Norwegian coast, because of problems with a propeller shaft. It was a humiliating setback for what was supposed to be the largest demonstration of Nato sea power since the Cold War.
The Queen Elizabeth's place in the exercise was instead taken by its sister carrier, HMS Prince of Wales – which itself also broke down, off England's south coast in 2022 after damage to its propeller shaft. Royal Navy sources have insisted that the propeller issues are different on both craft, and not part of a systemic design flaw. En route to Scotland's Rosyth dockyard for repairs to the propeller last year, a fire also broke out in the Queen Elizabeth. And in 2019, it suffered a leak that saw water rise to 'neck-high' in flooded areas of the ship.
That same year, it was also dogged by personnel fiascos, with its commanding officer at the time, Cdre Nick Cooke-Priest, controversially relieved of his command for allegedly using one of the ship's staff cars for his children's school run.
Even when the Queen Elizabeth has been fully functional, critics have often had it in their sights. Because it lacks 'catapults' to help jets take off, the range of jet fighters it can carry is limited. Meanwhile, some former military chiefs have questioned whether it should ever have even been commissioned.
Lord Houghton of Richmond, a former Chief of the Defence Staff, told a Commons committee in 2019 that the Queen Elizabeth and Prince of Wales were effectively vanity projects, 'too totemic to Britain's sense of place in the world'. He said the billions spent on the ships – the only two aircraft carriers in Britain's fleet – were a waste of money without vastly more investment in the Royal Navy as a whole.
Showergate is not the only embarrassing headline to engulf the Navy this week. Over the weekend, it transpired that the head of the service, First Sea Lord Admiral Sir Ben Key, had been removed from his duties while under investigation over allegations of having an extra-marital affair with a subordinate. And yesterday, it came to light that Lt-Cdr Martyn Mayger, the commander of HMS Tyne, a warship protecting British waters from Russian submarines, was being investigated over allegations of 'unacceptable sexual behaviour' with an underling.
Both cases leave the Navy facing the prospect of potentially embarrassing disciplinary hearings ahead, which may do further damage to its reputation. Meanwhile, retired Rear Admiral Parry hopes that the top brass in the Queen Elizabeth have done the same personnel training that he did as a young officer – which included how to deal with sailors with poor hygiene.
'When you become an officer, you're trained to deal with all kinds of issues, from people being killed in action through to delicate personnel issues like personal hygiene. We were taught how to call people out if they had body odour – it's not something that people like to talk about in civilian life, but on a ship you have no choice.'
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My first British camping trip, aged 40 (plus 26 more glam options)
My first British camping trip, aged 40 (plus 26 more glam options)

Times

timean hour ago

  • Times

My first British camping trip, aged 40 (plus 26 more glam options)

Some families camp, others marvel at their fortitude, writes Harriet Walker. I grew up in the latter … camp. My only nights under canvas have been in a raucous Guides tent, then a smaller, equally raucous one at a rainy festival, halfway through which I booked into the nearest hotel. Like my delicate flower forebears, I assumed I (allergic to everything, quick to sunburn) was simply not cut out for camping. Some in my daughter's school year go annually en masse, an expedition I found laudable but 'not for us'. Being wide awake and cold all night in a tent with her brother, a toddler, had all the appeal of a mini-break to a war zone. And yet. When this year my daughter asked for camping instead of a birthday party, I worried that I'd deprived her and agreed to give it a whirl. That toddler is almost five now, and I feel sturdier than I have done in years. Also, camping in the southeast during a heatwave is different to doing it in the Peak District climate of the late Nineties. We and three other families booked pitches in the South Downs, eschewing the luxurious bell tent and shepherd's hut options and borrowing a friend's Decathlon kit. With a petting farm attached and a craft brewery tap room 40 minutes' walk away (three minutes by car), Hale Farm in East Sussex had something for everyone, including a man called Gino who arrives on site in a coffee van each morning and an ice cream truck in the evening. Flushing toilets, hot showers and washing-up facilities were further reassurance that this was not the hair-shirt version I had been warned off in my childhood, where men shaved in sand and women had to walk to the nearest village to use the loo. No, I thought on our first night as I quaffed ice-cold Lady A rosé on a folding chair at sunset then ate perfectly barbecued curried lamb under a star-filled sky and full moon, this is not the wind-blasted endurance test I had been expecting. After a perfectly good night's sleep on squashy mats (sleeping bags for the children but pillows and a duvet for us as per advice from camping veterans), stepping out into fresh air and glorious sunlight was magical. I am now a person who wakes at 7am regardless; doing so in a two-bedroom blackout tent was not like the memory of coming round in a two-man, dry-mouthed at noon and cooking from the inside out as the drum'n'bass marquee performed a soundcheck next door. • Read our full guide to camping holidays The weekend was even more bucolic for the children. Our London kids (albeit leafy ones) were able to roam without being told repeatedly to decrease their volume, stay in sight or watch out for dog poo. After a 20-minute drive to Pevensey Bay for a sea dip followed by fish and chips, they made their own fun (and some alarmingly Blair Witch-esque twig sculptures) in the nearby woods then donned headlamps and wrist torches to toast marshmallows by the fire pit. We celebrated Freda's eighth birthday with the sort of giant sparklers it would be hard to relax around in a small and enclosed back garden. I could feel the extended time outdoors — plus the fact that I had no phone reception or reason to scroll — doing us all good. My inherited view was that camping was punitive time spent away from creature comforts to toughen up, but I see that with modern kit so improved as to be comfortable and idiot-proof (it took us about half an hour to put the tent up, once we had figured out the instructions), trips like this are the complete opposite: time off from devices, schedules and hectic city pace. A chance to enjoy nature. As long as the rain stays away. What is it they say about the zealotry of the convert? We're considering another camping trip next month — though I'll be checking the weather right up to the moment we leave, Walker travelled independently. Hale Farm in Chiddingly, East Sussex, costs £14 per adult and £6 per child a night ( This article contains affiliate links that will earn us revenue By Sarah Baxter Retreat into your own family bubble on the edge of Bodmin Moor. Ekopod's secluded geodomes are off-grid — great for a screen-free break — but have all the comfy mod-cons: super-kings, sofa beds, simple kitchens, bathrooms with shower and tub. Magic is added with hammocks, fairylights, welcome cookies and hot chocolate, and views through the roof to the stars. The onsite play area has a pirate ship sand pit and mud kitchen, the communal barn is stocked with books and games, and north Cornwall's beaches are a short drive Two nights' self-catering for four from £320 ( • 22 of the best campsites in Cornwall It's fairly posh just pitching at award-winning Brook Meadow. The spacious family-farm site has shared washrooms befitting a boutique hotel, 'moovie' nights in the cowshed, pop-up cocktail evenings and lakeside yoga on summer Saturdays. This year it's hosting a family-friendly music festival (September 13). Take it up a notch by glamping instead, ideally in Marabou, an out-of-Africa fantasy of timber-stilted canvas, with exquisitely picked and upcycled furnishings that bring the Masai Mara to the Pitches from £32, four nights' self-catering for eight from £570 ( Staying somewhere that your brood can run wild doesn't have to mean going feral. Penhein is all about getting kids outside: there's a natural playground, a wildlife hide, a stream to paddle in and trails to follow, as well as bookable activities, from junior bushcraft to the Mini Adventurers Club (both £35pp). Penhein's elegant alachighs (Persian-style yurts) are civilised indeed, with proper beds, private monsoon showers and en suite loos. If you like, you can try cooking on your fire pit. Alternatively, buy delicious prepped meals from the Pantry, made with local Three nights' self-catering for six from £465 ( The biggest luxury? Exclusivity. Which is what you get at Spot House Farm. Book this bijou site out on the edge of Romney Marsh and you will have it to yourselves. It has all that's required for a great outdoor gathering: four smart, handmade bell tents with crisp-sheeted beds, vintage fittings and wool blankets (designed by the farm's owner); a full field kitchen stocked with fresh eggs and coffee roasted on site; a hot open-air shower; woodlands and meadows to explore; and a big table for dining out under the Two nights' self-catering for ten from £1,193 ( There are four small pods at this forest-backed Tweed Valley site. Deer Hunter is cosy and perfect for families, with its double and sofa bed. You could spend hours sitting on its deck, watching for hedgehogs, deer and red squirrels. 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Or ramble across to the National Trust's Calke Abbey estate to hire a bike, find its 1,200-year-old oak tree and enter the atmospherically crumbling One night's self-catering for two from £99 ( Sitting pretty within the UK's only coastal national park, Stackpole Under the Stars is perfect for accessing some of the UK's best beaches, including the soft sands of Broad Haven South and Barafundle. It's a peaceful spot with ten pitches: five for campers, five for glampers. The latter include two yurts, two safari tents sleeping seven and a posh wooden barrel-shaped pod. Opt for the cheaper eco-package (bring your own sheets), then spend the savings on an on-site axe-throwing session (£8); under-eights can fling mini squishy axes instead. Details Pitches from £23, one night's self-catering for four from £115 ( Stay at the Original Hut Company and you get a bit of everything. The site is a delight, set amid ancient woodland with the River Rother running through. The shepherd's huts are classy and snug, with hobs inside and fire pits out. The Hub café sells camper hampers if you want to cook, local-sourced dishes if you don't. Meanwhile, the on-site activity centre offers paddleboarding, kayaking and canoeing as well as archery and bushcraft. If you can pull yourself away, roam through the orchards to magnificently moated Bodiam Pitches from £28, one night's self-catering for five from £150 ( During school holidays this award-winning glampsite, tucked in a nature reserve near the Suffolk coast, is for families only. That means it's a haven for kids then, but others will love it at other times. Sleeping options run from a converted horsebox to luxury tented lodges with country-style kitchens, four-posters, bunks and a den-like cupboard bed. There's a rich mix of nature-based activities, from goat walks and 'meet the animals' sessions to bow-making and whittling. 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And Wild Luxury is particularly perfect, offering easy outdoors access from the most comfortable in canvas living spaces. A handful of smart, spacious safari lodges — sleeping between six and ten — are dotted across two sites. One of them, Summerfield, is surrounded by woodland and birdsong, with possibilities for den-building and zip-wiring amid the trees, while Drove Orchards, near Holme Dunes, is a hop-skip from the sea, a nature reserve and great local Two nights' self-catering for six from £464 ( Their wheels no longer go round and round, but it's still gleeful to stay in one of the nine restored buses at this site overlooking the Lammermuir Hills. Each vehicle has been kitted out with cosy beds and wood-burning stoves but retains its essential bus-ness: kids (big and small) will love sitting in the driver's seat. 'Eco buses' have loos but share bathrooms and a Kitchen Bus, while the 'luxury buses' have cooking areas and en suites. While there, book a tour of the surrounding farm to meet alpacas, sheep and goats (£25 per adult, £15 per child).Details One night's self-catering for two from £145 ( Want to wake up and smell the apples? There are two handmade, individually designed yurts hidden away on this 22-acre family-owned Herefordshire orchard. Cai is great fun, with bright red-yellow decor and apple trees flourishing all round; Zephyr sits apart, on a raised platform, with big views towards the Marcle Ridge. Orchard-bathing is encouraged on site — the owners suggest walking barefoot between the trees, letting your senses be your guide and sampling the fruits. Community events and gatherings are often held here too. Details One night's self-catering for four from £75 ( Sitting between Eryri National Park (Snowdonia) and the sea, Nyth Robin is small but very well formed. There are nine pitches for campers and a handful of options for glamping, each with a unique feel. 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TOM UTLEY: From the bliss of my own bed to a decent cuppa... why the best part of any holiday is the heart-lifting relief of coming HOME
TOM UTLEY: From the bliss of my own bed to a decent cuppa... why the best part of any holiday is the heart-lifting relief of coming HOME

Daily Mail​

time2 hours ago

  • Daily Mail​

TOM UTLEY: From the bliss of my own bed to a decent cuppa... why the best part of any holiday is the heart-lifting relief of coming HOME

Oh, how heartily I agree with the 52 per cent who say one of the best parts of going away on holiday is returning to the comforts of home. My only quibble is that it's the best part, bar none. We may look forward all year to getting away from it all for that summer break, studying the travel pages, thumbing through the brochures and counting the days until we can pack our bags and head for the heaven of our dreams. But on average, apparently, it takes only five days away for us to start missing everything we've left behind, from the bliss of our own beds to our familiar routines, gardens and pets and our favourite TV programmes – or simply a decent British cuppa, with proper British milk. So says a survey of 2,000 holidaymakers from the UK, published this week by the sofa retailing firm, DFS. True, there was a time in my younger days when I wished that my holidays could go on for ever. I longed to explore the whole wide world, absorbing new sights, sounds, tastes and experiences, while going home just meant the start of a new term or, later, returning to the grind of the office. But since money was always tight in my bachelor days, I never got round to venturing beyond Europe. And when marriage and the four boys came along, further clipping my wings – except on the handful of occasions when my employers sent me abroad for work – I resigned myself to putting my wilder ambitions on hold until our finances looked up and our sons were old enough to fend for themselves. These days, with the boys now grown up, the school fees behind us, the mortgage paid off – and Rachel Reeves's dreaded Budget still weeks away – I can at last afford to take the two of us just about anywhere in the world we may fancy. Yet this summer, we found five days on the Isle of Wight more than enough. The trouble is that my feet stopped itching years ago, and Mrs U seems to feel much the same way. Far from yearning to travel, I find my heart sinking at the very thought of going through all the palaver, inconvenience and discomfort of another holiday abroad. I'm not a bit proud of the death of my spirit of adventure. On the contrary, all those people who say life starts at sixty or seventy – and spend their retirement swimming with dolphins, going on safari in Africa or sailing round the world – make me feel terribly inadequate. It's just that when I look back over a lifetime of holidays, I remember only a litany of disasters, and almost constant anxiety. There was the time in Pompeii, which I've mentioned before, when our then three-year-old eldest fell, bottom-first, into an enormous Roman wine-jar of the first century AD, with only the top of his head and the soles of his shoes visible. For several interminable minutes, as we heaved on his shoulders and ankles, I feared that we'd have to smash this priceless artefact to get him out, and I'd have to answer for the consequences to my bank manager (not to mention the Italian police). Then there was the holiday a couple of years later, at a friend's villa in Tuscany, where the same boy broke his arm on day two, after laughing so hard at a funny book that he fell on to the stone floor from his perch on the arm of a sofa. I still shudder at the memory of our long drive in the hire car to the nearest hospital, with the poor boy screaming in pain in the back. Indeed, trips to hospital feature prominently in my memories of holidays abroad. There was the time in Normandy when son Number Two suddenly developed a mysterious illness. He wouldn't eat or sleep, and when he tried to walk he developed a terrifying limp. Frantic with worry, and fearing he had picked up something like polio (all right, neither of us is medically literate), we drove him to hospital in Bayeux. As he hobbled round the consulting room, in apparent agony, two doctors said they were as baffled as we were. It was only when they told him he'd have to stay there a couple of nights for tests that he miraculously recovered in an instant, and walked down the hospital corridor without a trace of a limp. I'll never forget what one of the doctors said to his colleague, in French, presumably thinking I wouldn't understand: 'These stupid English. They watch far too much television!' Then there was the time near Toulouse, when I managed to skewer the top of my head on a spike hanging down from a chandelier. Blood gushed from my head like a Roman candle, and our gite soon looked like the set of a gruesome Quentin Tarantino movie. Before I knew it, I was lying in an antiquated ambulance – a converted Citroen Deux Chevaux, I seem to remember, though I wouldn't swear to it – on my way to have my wound stapled up in A&E. As for lesser holiday disasters, these include suffering a blow-out on our way to Saint-Malo, when we were already running late for the ferry home and, like so many other muppet tourists, having my pocket picked in Rome. (To adapt the famous saying: 'When in Rome… cling on to your wallet for dear life.') Yes, such disasters and mishaps can also befall us in dear old blighty. But the stresses are multiplied a hundredfold when they happen abroad, with an unfamiliar language and bureaucracy to contend with. Indeed, even when everything goes smoothly on a foreign holiday, I find the anxiety kicks in from almost the moment we leave home. Have we locked the rear bedroom window, cancelled the papers and remembered to turn off the gas? Which of us has the passports and the tickets – and where the hell did I put the booking reference for the hire car at the other end? Then there's that exhausting business at the airport – the endless, snaking queues at the check-in desk, passport control and customs, and that ridiculous rigmarole with the belts and the shoes at security. It's another interminable wait at the other end, for Mrs U's suitcase to appear (generally last) on the carousel. Then the hassle at the hire-car kiosk and that first, nerve-racking hour of getting used to driving a strange vehicle, on the wrong side of a strange road. That's not to mention the constant demands on our mental arithmetic, as we struggle to translate foreign currencies into pounds and pence. (One of the few things Mrs U and I have in common, apart from 45 years of marriage, four sons and five grandchildren, is that we're both completely hopeless at maths). Enough to say, oh, the heart-lifting relief of that first glimpse of the Isle of Wight or the White Cliffs of Dover, from the aeroplane window or the deck of the ferry on the journey home. And, oh, the joy of ordering a favourite takeaway and cracking open the duty free on our arrival in our own dear house, with our own familiar kitchen, our own telly and our own comfy bed. No, there's no question that this is the best bit of any holiday. It's just such a shame that we have to go through all the worries and bother of travel before we can fully appreciate it.

Tourist is left paralysed after being thrown from 'kamikaze' seat on Devon sea safari
Tourist is left paralysed after being thrown from 'kamikaze' seat on Devon sea safari

Daily Mail​

time3 hours ago

  • Daily Mail​

Tourist is left paralysed after being thrown from 'kamikaze' seat on Devon sea safari

A female tourist has been paralysed for life after being thrown from a 'kamikaze' seat on an inflatable boat hit by a high wave as it left a harbour. The RIB Lundy Explorer had left Ilfracombe harbour in North Devon for a sea safari trip in June 2023. A Marine Accident Investigation Board inquiry said it encountered a high wave as it left the harbour, which caused it to slam into an oncoming wave. The report says that a passenger was sitting in a 'jockey' seat in the front of the RIB, where the highest shock loads were experienced. The passenger was dislodged from their seat and suffered a fracture of their spinal column, resulting in permanent paralysis. The MAIB report said local weather conditions had deteriorated quickly, which resulted in choppy seas and bigger waves, which the RIB skipper had not expected. The position of the jockey seats was unsuitable for single occupancy, the report added, as they exposed passengers to high shock load as the boat slammed into waves. And the pre-departure safety briefing did not include the use of the seats and the passengers were unaware of the risks. The MAIB also found that concerns were expressed by many people in the industry about the use of jockey seats on high-speed RIBs. It said: 'Several operators, manufacturers and skippers were consulted during this investigation, and all acknowledged that the front seats of a RIB could present comfort issues, often referring to them as 'kamikaze' or 'suicide' seats.' The investigation found that the boat was hit by three waves, which caused the bow of the boat to land on the water 'with force, bringing the RIB to a sudden stop'. The person on the jockey seat 'struck their face heavily on the handhold in front of them'. It added: 'The dislodged passenger was wedged between the jockey seat pedestal and the RIB's sponsor, in a twisted position with her right leg over the seat. The deckhand attended to the dislodged passenger, who said that she could not feel her legs.' The boat was turned around as soon as the waves allowed and the skipper tried to call the company owner by mobile phone but received no reply. The coastguard was not contacted via the road and the report stated that his 'might have delayed the emergency response and prevented medical advice on handling a suspected spinal injury'. The woman was carried ashore by the owner and skipper as her sister called an ambulance at 12.27pm. She was taken to the hospital in Plymouth by air after a lifeboat team and an air ambulance were dispatched. The Chief Inspector of Marine Accidents, Andrew Moll, said: 'This dreadful accident highlights that even when operating at slow speeds in harbour areas significant injuries can still occur on RIB rides when inappropriate seating arrangements are used. 'Despite being in good health and wearing appropriate safety equipment, she was dislodged from her seat and sustained a spinal injury that has resulted in permanent paralysis.' He urged all operators to take action and Ilfracombe Sea Safari Ltd is recommended to implement a safety management system. The MAIB report said that since 2001 it has been notified of 54 accidents during RIB rides that have resulted in lower back injuries, 17 of which caused spinal fractures. A spokesman for Ilfracombe Sea Safari told the Times: 'It was two and a half years ago and [we are] now under new management since early 2024. 'We have implemented all the safety guidelines outlined in the report and more. We work to the highest standards and go above and beyond to ensure safety for all of our passengers and crew.'

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