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As a landlord, have you ever had a tenant who stopped paying rent and would not leave? If so, how did you resolve this?

I have a couple of houses I rent in California and Nevada, houses I bought for my residence and decided to rent instead of selling when I relocated. I have had it take six months to get one particularly resourceful criminal out of my house. This particular criminal - let’s call her “Trish” - because that is her name - had been living in the house with her boyfriend, but they broke up and he was moving on, so she asked if she could rent the house in his stead. He had been renting from me for five years, and had been a great tenant, so I didn’t imagine it would be a problem… she had been living there for a couple of years, off and on.So she already had possession of the house when we met at the house, filled in the lease agreement, and everyone signed it. It was the middle of the month, and the rent was paid to the end of the month by my previous tenant, so she said she’d mail a check to reach us by the first and we left it at that.The first month’s rent - which was to include a deposit - bounced, and I couldn’t reach Trish… she didn’t respond to my phone calls or email. After nearly three weeks she called and apologized and said she had been traveling, but she’d include all three checks in her next month’s payment. The second month she claimed she had sent the check for both months and the deposit “a few days ago… just give it a week and if it’s not there I’ll cancel the checks and send new ones.” Long story short - we never received even one payment from her.Sooooo - she’d been in the house for two weeks on her ex’s dime, then for a month and a half on mine - and now it was nearly Christmas and I was in New York for the holidays - clear across the country. By the time I got home she had been living on my dime for well over two months, and her excuses - and my patience - had run thin. I don’t make money on my rentals - I just use the rent money to pay the mortgage - so this wasn’t working for me.I live 4.5 hours - with traffic - from the rental, so I hired a local paralegal to fill out and post a three-day notice to pay rent or quit… then waited three days. The same paralegal then got the earliest court date - three weeks out. And the paralegal - who was great - served her.On Court Day Number One, I drove the 4.5 hours to get to court and was sent to mediation. After several hours of back and forth in two separate rooms, the mediator told us there was no way to settle the case. She claimed to the mediator that I owed her $10,000 for work she had done to the house, and she felt the house now should belong to her, and she shouldn’t have to pay rent. We went into the courtroom and the mediator told the judge he would have to hear the case… but now, of course, it’s nearly quitting time, so the judge gave us a new court date.Court Date Number Two - two weeks later. And another nine hours (round trip) of driving. When our case was called, Trish claimed she had worked on the property and had spent $10,000 on my house, cleaning, fixing things, painting - basically doing work that she was not authorized to do. This was particularly ironic, since she had been living in the house for several months with her boyfriend before he moved out, so any “clean up” work she did was just cleaning up after herself and her live-in. The judge asked her for receipts, but she “didn’t bring them to court.” The judge told her to bring her receipts the next time and set a new hearing for two weeks out.Court Date Number Three: At the next hearing there was a new judge. The tenant called the court and said she was unable to attend as her son was ill. The judge canceled the hearing and set another hearing for the next week. My husband and I drove back home. Another day out of work, another day in the car in traffic between Chico, CA and the Bay Area.Court Date Number Four: The next week the original judge is back. When he asked Trish for her receipts she pulled out a paper grocery bag full of what appeared to be trash and dumped it out on the table. My husband picked up one receipt - it’s for a kid’s meal at McDonalds. She claimed the meal receipts were for her paying friends who worked on the house with food - to save me money! The judge told her she had to 1) type up her receipts and 2) Get them to me a minimum of 24 hours before the next hearing. He set another trial date, three weeks out, as the court was backlogged.It was now nearly three months since I posted the three-days notice on her door, and she’s been living rent-free in my house for nearly six months . . . I have taken the day off work and driven nine hours to court and back four times. And we haven’t even begun to have an entire hearing.Court Date Number Five: At the next hearing we are to begin at 1 PM, after lunch. Whew! A much better leaving time for that 4.5 hour drive! We were there early, but Trish was nowhere to be seen. The judge called roll and after finishing with the roll call tells us our case will not be heard that day, as Trish had called in that morning with the same excuse - her son was sick. He set another hearing for the next week at 10 AM. That means I’ll have to leave home around 5 AM to guarantee I’ll be there in time for the hearing.Court Date Number Six: At the next hearing my husband (what a trooper!) and I were there at 9:30 - no Trish. I still have not received any receipts nor list of receipts from her, despite the judge ordering her to provide them. The judge called roll, and she was not there. He told us Trish had called the courthouse again to say her son was sick and she had to pick him up from school, and asked if I would agree to postpone the hearing to another day. He said she would find a sitter and come in the afternoon if the hearing couldn’t be postponed.I explained that this was the sixth time I’d driven 4.5 hours to come to court, and that she had never paid ANY rent at all, ever, as her first rent check had bounced, along with her deposit.The judge said he understood, and he would postpone the hearing until 4 PM, at which time he would hear the case whether she was there or not. My husband took me for a leisurely lunch, then we came back to court.She was a no-show, so the judge heard my side of the story and then rendered a judgment of around $11K in my favor for back rent and damages. When we got out of court it was 4:45 PM, so we were pressed to try to get through the line at the clerk’s window so we could avoid having to make that drive again to get the paperwork filed for the judge’s signature.While we stood in line at the clerk’s window, who should appear but Trish! Dressed to the nines, like a lawyer, ahead of us in line for another clerk. She was pretending to be an attorney who had come by to pick up the judgment for her “client.”My husband ran back to the courtroom and told the Bailiff she was at the courthouse at the clerk’s window. The bailiff went into chambers and told the judge. The judge was so irritated he stayed late to sign our judgment that day so we could move forward without waiting the several days it generally takes to get the paperwork filed and the judgment signed.Although we got the judgement that same day (Thursday was eviction-hearings-day at that particular courthouse), we could not have her evicted until the Wednesday two full weeks after the judgment was issued - which really meant one day shy of three weeks. That was 1) to give her time to file an appeal if she was going to, and 2) Evictions only happen on Wednesday. So you see, even by the choosing of days to hear evictions and days to serve evictions, landlords are at a disadvantage in California, adding nearly another month to the half a year of free rent she had already stolen.We hired the local sheriff to serve the eviction notice, and she had, if memory serves, 48 hours once the notice was served before the sheriff came back to actually evict her. It was literally MONTHS after the first three-day notice to quit was tacked to the front door.At 11 PM the night before she was to be evicted she called me, crying, begging to be given another two weeks so she could have time to move all her stuff out. “What will my children do without their toys?!”Of course, this was just a ploy to start the clock all over again. I refused, and advised her to gather anything important to her and her children that night, as the Sheriff had told us he would be there first thing the next day to evict her, forcibly if need be.And the plot thickens. My husband showed up at 9 AM to be there when the Sheriff arrived. She had packed NOTHING, but left with a friend and her purse. She called me later that day and asked when she could come back to pack up and move the entire 3-bedroom house of her belongings. My husband agreed to drive the 9 hours once again, and meet her the following Saturday at 9 AM. I told her he would be there from 9 AM to 8 PM and advised that she have some help to move, since she had a lot of heavy furniture, large screen TVs, etc., and NOTHING had been packed… the house was full.When he showed up that Saturday - having left the house at 4:30 AM to arrive by 9 - she was a no-show. The driveway was gated with a heavy metal gate, which the Sheriff had locked, so we knew she hadn’t been there to get her things, and the house was still full. My hubby started packing the small things up, to move to storage, and was there until noon, when he went to get something for lunch. Trish called while he was at lunch and said she was at the house - where was he? He left his lunch and drove back to the house, but - again - she wasn’t there. He texted her to say he would stay until 5 PM, and then he was going back home, after hiring a moving company to move her things to storage. He informed her if that happened she would have to pay for the mover and the storage to get her belongings back. Then he started looking online for a local moving and storage place.Then around 1 PM it got really crazy. . . a woman - the “friend” who had been with her when the sheriff came to evict Trish - came to the house and asked if she could get HER things. My husband said sure, and she went in with a suitcase and packed up some clothes and makeup. He went in the house with her to make sure she didn’t take Trish’s things - which we were responsible for at that point.While packing she told him Trish had hired her as a nanny. Trish had promised her $1,400/month in pay and free room and board just two weeks prior. The poor woman had quit her job and vacated the room she had been renting, and was now out of work and homeless. Trish had completely fooled her, ruined her life, and boy was she mad.She pulled some papers out of a pile in the kitchen and handed them to my hubby. They were the rental papers for all the furniture, the two 70″ TVs, and the computer in the kitchen. Trish had scammed the rental company and never made a payment. They had been trying to repossess their furniture and electronics for months, but she kept the gate at the top of the driveway locked so they couldn’t get in.My husband called them, explained the situation, and they were there within 15 minutes… in a huge truck, with two big guys up front. They backed up to the house and had all the furniture/etc… in the truck in about a half an hour. They were just that good.At 2 PM, just as they were finishing up - guess who pulled into the driveway! Yep! It was Trish - in a little BMW (which we later discovered had been “borrowed” from a repair shop by a repairman she was dating. The car had been brought in for servicing, and she had talked the guy into letting her drive it, “until the owner came to pick it up.” The repairman was fired and arrested for auto theft. But I digress (truth - stranger than fiction…).Trish was apoplectic. Her “nanny” was equally furious. The two women started screaming at each other, then Trish started screaming at my husband - how dare he give HER belongings away!You might notice this was a pattern for her - she had told the mediator and the judge the house should be hers because she cared about it more than I did - And then one of the guys in the truck called the police, because, hey! this wasn’t Jerry Springer enough already!The cops knew exactly who she was, as she had had not one but TWO bench warrants out for her arrest, since she hadn’t shown up for a DUI hearing on two occasions after being released on her own recognizance at her first hearing.The police parked in the opening in the gate so no car could pull out. When she saw them she went running back inside the house and locked the door. My husband gave one of the policeman the key and they went in and brought her out in cuffs … put her in their patrol car, and off to the pokey she went, hi ho, hi ho.Leaving us with a house full of clothing, toys, a lot of legal paperwork, a fridge full of food, and a lot of garbage.The cops promised to bring her back to get her car when she was released, so my husband gave them the combination to the lock on the gate so they could let her in and get her car out. Sadly, when she got out a couple of days later they couldn’t drive her back to get her car, because her license had been suspended. So she came back on her own and broke the expensive heavy metal gate by prying at it with a crowbar until the hinges broke off. If only the rental company had thought of that!Once she was booked and made bail, and she had broken our gate to pick up the stolen Beemer, she disappeared. Her kids had been given back to their fathers while she was in jail, and we’ve been unable to find her since. We have a judgment of around 12K now - with interest - but it’s not collectible. There is still a bench warrant out for her arrest. She abandoned her belongings and we disposed of them a couple of months later after putting the requisite ads in the local paper. The only thing of value left in the house had been a generator, but someone contacted us to get it back, as it turned out she had stolen it, too.She had painted several rooms in my house BLACK, so I had to pay someone to repaint. And a welder to fix the gate - not as good as new, but it was functional.And the kicker? I found out about a month later that she had put a mechanic’s lien on my house for 10K! I had to have a lawyer deal with that.I know landlords are pretty universally despised, but I’ve never taken advantage of any renter. Although I’ve been taken advantage of more than once.And the house? My first, my favorite, and the one I thought I would retire to? It burned down in the Paradise Camp Wildfire in November 2018, less than a year after getting rid of Trish. The town is pretty much gone. The water is poisoned, and there is no electricity, so there will probably be no rebuilding it within my lifetime.But - look at the bright side! I guess I won’t have any more renter problems . . .My kitchen, after remodeling, shortly before Trish moved in. . .My son - a self-proclaimed “Balloonatic” - in our garden behind the creek. The cat - a wandering wild cat tamed by my son when it was a kitten - was taken in by an elderly neighbor. I never knew her name, but we used to pick apricots for her every summer for years, and we would visit her - and our cat - every month or so, just to keep company. I’ve been unable to locate her since the fire, and have no idea if she (or our cat) made it out or not. I try not to think about that.What was left of my house when allowed to come back to the property a couple of months after the Paradise Camp Fire. Look at the dead tree forming a “V” just above the two burnt-out center cars… The above photo of my young son was taken just behind that tree.

What is it like to be a contestant on MasterChef?

Hi.I ran at this blog post prior to the start of MasterChef US Season 4, and I hope that this post might answer the question you have as well!Note: This post was written in Marie Porter's blog, she is one of the 100 home cooks that is "casted" to be in MasterChef season 4. The blog is written by MasterChef Season 2's top-5 finalist Ben Starr (awesome guy, I followed his blog to read all the MasterChef recaps, and it is really detailed, depicting the life as a MasterChef contestant and how editing really plays a humongous part in a reality tv show, his blog can be found here: http://benstarr.com)Onto the note:It’s been 2 years since I found myself locked in a hotel room in Los Angeles, unable to leave without a babysitter, unable to connect to the outside world (including family, friends, and career.) Awake at 5am every morning and hustled into a cold van, driven to a grimy warehouse where I’d sit outside in a tent for 3 hours.Every 10 minutes, a production assistant would come by and say, “5 minute warning, everyone. On-set in 5 minutes.” That warning would be repeated for many hours to come. Then suddenly a cry, “EVERYONE ON SET NOW!” Hustlebustle. And we’re herded in front of Ramsay, Bastianich, and Elliot to begin the 8-hour process of filming a 1-hour challenge. Then it’s back to being locked in a hotel room for a few hours of desperate sleep before the process repeated. Every day. Without stopping. For 2 months. Making MasterChef. Season 2.On May 22, MasterChef season 4 will commence. And in a scant 3 hours of broadcasting, the lives of 100 contestants will flash before your eyes.Within 3 hours of programming, more than 80% of them will be gone forever,and only a tiny core of contestants will remain for the bulk of the season.This blog is not about that core. This blog is about the ones you’ll see for fleeting seconds. Or the ones you’ll never see.These initial 100 contestants were selected from live auditions that took place last fall. When you attend a MasterChef audition, you bring a signature dish of yours (they want it to convey “you on a plate”), and you stand in line for an hour or two (or six) with hundreds, or sometimes thousands of other hopefuls. Looking around, you see nervous, shy people with what appear to be truly spectacular dishes. You also see folks dressed up like pirate strippers or gangsta rappers, hopeful to make enough of a spectacle to warrant a second glance from the casting agents. When you reach the front of the line, you’re herded into a large room with 19 other people, where you have a couple of minutes to plate your dish…which has been silently curdling, wilting, fermenting, and basically dying while you stood in line all those hours. (Little do you know, this is preparing you for an everyday occurrence on the show…food on MasterChef is NEVER judged when it is fresh, only after sitting at room temperature for hours after it came out of the oven.)The 100 contestants, who barely know each other, waiting in a cold dark alley to first enter the warehouse where the signature dish challenge is filmed.Once your dish is plated, a series of people begin walking around the room. Some are casting agents. (That could range from the supreme executive producer of the show, to an unpaid intern at a local casting firm.) Some are “culinary experts.” (That could range from an instructor at the local culinary school, to a TRUE world-class Master Chef like Ferdinand Metz…the kind that FAR outrank formidable judges like Ramsay and Elliot, neither of whom are actually real Master Chefs.) The trick is that you don’t know who is who. You don’t know who to explain how you crafted the dish to, and who to explain that your family died when you were 2, you were raised by a pack of wolves, and you learned to cook by watching Mongolian television which was the only channel you could intercept through the airwaves in the remote mountain valley where your wolf-pack family lived. 2 or 3 people will ask you some basic questions, and after you’ve talked for about 30 seconds, they say, “THANK YOU,” write a few notes on their clipboard, and move on.After all the casting folk have made their rounds, a few names are called for people who are to remain for further questioning. Among them are probably the pirate stripper and the gangsta rapper. Also, that outgoing, food-geek dude who rigged his homemade immersion circulator to run on battery power so he could keep his curried hollandaise at perfect serving temperature until plating time. Staying along with him is the adorable old grandmother who made her famous church-potluck deviled eggs with Hellmans mayonaise and a package of dry French Onion soup mix, and who does stand-up comedy at the Senior Center on Tuesdays.Amongst the “rejects” who are cast back out into the real world are probably the most skilled and talented among all those present that day. But they don’t fit the list of characters the casting folks are looking for. Because reality television is most certainly NOT about skill. That is incidental. They are looking for *characters*.Contestants enjoying a rare moment in the sun outside the warehouse.After an invasive and arduous several months of interviews, psychological evaluations, background investigations, and blood tests for everything from STDs to drugs to full DNA sequencing (I’m not joking), 100 contestants are informed that they are cast on MasterChef.When they arrive in Los Angeles to film the show, they immediately become perplexed. Because, as they get to know each other and chat about food, they discover that there’s a surprisingly wide range of skill and knowledge levels present. There are plenty of contestants who have never heard of “sous vide” cooking, have never tasted arugula, and don’t know what “mise en place” means. Then there are other contestants who may have been to culinary school, or may have worked on the line in a restaurant…who have dined VERY well…who have even more knowledge of sophisticated cooking techniques than many chefs. Most candidates fall somewhere in between. And the core group of finalists, after the majority are sent home without aprons, will be pulled from both extremes and the middle group. But in that first week as the contestants get to know each other, it can be very puzzling for some, and very intimidating for others. Puzzling to the advanced candidates because they are wondering, if this is really a skill-based competition, why are there people here who only know how to make casseroles from cans. Intimidating for those casserole candidates, because there are people here speaking in an advanced culinary language that they can’t understand, and they wonder how they fit in.Through the magic of television, a crumbling old furniture warehouse is transformed into the signature dish studio.Eventually, they all spend a week inside a dusty warehouse filming the “signature dish” challenge. This is where each of the 100 contestants has an hour to prepare their “signature dish” for the judges, and find out whether or not they get the coveted apron. Some contestants are truly lucky enough to actually cook their own recipe. Contractually unable to reveal any more, I’ll just say that other contestants don’t have that luxury and have to cook something else…sometimes it’s something they’ve never even cooked before. This week of signature dish filming is incredibly tense. Up to 10 contestants are cooking at any given time. Once their hour is complete, they put their food on a cart and wait for their turn before the judges. That wait can be up to several hours long, depending on how smoothly the production is running.And this solid week of 12 hour days gets condensed into 2 or 3 episodes of MasterChef. The premiers. Out of 100 contestants, you’ll be lucky to see half them on the final edit. Those that are displayed will be a carefully selected sampling of some (but not all) of the top core of finalists, along with candidates who have inspiring stories, candidates with crazy mad skills but who are deliberately eliminated without an apron to prove to the rest of the contestants and the audience that this is a “tough and very serious” competition, candidates with bizarre aspects (ie a guy who plates his sushi on a naked woman, a guy who rides in on a horse, a guy with a pet monkey who sits on his shoulder as he cooks, a girl who cooks with her own breast milk, etc.) and contestants who were deliberately cast to be ridiculed by the judges for having amateur skills. Yes…that happens too.In a casting van headed to the studio, contestants take every instant they can to study.Do I know this because I have “inside knowledge?” Of course not. You know it, too. MasterChef auditions gather thousands of VERY serious, knowledgeable cooks. If the casting agents had truly sought out the 100 best home cooks in America, there wouldn’t be a single amateur in the house. No one would be sent home for having offended the judges with sub-par cuisine. But this is entertainment, folks. You wouldn’t watch MasterChef if they had TRULY recruited the 100 best home cooks in the country. Because it would be pretty darn boring.One contestant creatively expressing their extreme boredom from being locked in their hotel room all day.So as you watch the first 3 hours of MasterChef, let yourself be entertained. This isn’t reality. It’s television. But the lives *behind*the show are reality. And if you connect with a contestant who really strikes something inside you, reach out and find them on the internet. Because MasterChef changes lives for the worse, perhaps more often than it changes lives for the better. People discover that they were just cast to be made fun of. Others who truly believed they had a chance at winning, and who produced a truly fabulous signature dish, will be eliminated because they just didn’t have the right chemistry to be in the core group…and are judged based not on their cooking, but on their “package” as a character. And that is really traumatic for a lot of folks. Contestants will make it to the top group who know *very* little about cooking. Contestants will be eliminated who are breathtakingly talented. That’s just the way reality TV goes.What can help heal them, and inspire them to continue following their food dreams, is to be contacted by fans who felt a connection to them. Because one of the truly remarkable things that MasterChef does is cause people to take a long, hard, objective look at their lives. They made the choice to potentially lose their job, their house, their spouse, because they have a dream of making a difference in the culinary world. And that’s powerful stuff. And those that get tossed out like yesterday’s salad can find themselves in a very trying place. But you can help push them to continue their dreams by showing that you were moved by their performance and you want to see more…*that their sacrifice and performance made a difference to someone*.After the first 3 episodes are over and the core group of finalists is chosen, reflect on the fact that you only saw a handful of the total number of people who risked almost everything in their lives to be on the show. There are people who will never even make it to the final edit. You’ll never even know they were on the show in the first place. But their entire life was turned upside down for half a year. They had to leave their job with no more information than, “I’m going away for at least a week, maybe up to 2 months, and I can’t contact you until I get back.” They left their families the same way, too.So while you laugh and cry as you meet the lucky (and sometimes very unlucky) folks who are featured during the first few episodes, think of the ones you *didn’t* meet. And realize that, even for the people the judges laugh out of the studio who seem to have no cooking skill at all, they took a very frightening risk to be there. Deep inside, they truly dream of being the next MasterChef, of leaving their mark on the culinary world. And, as every true Master Chef knows, *all* skills can be taught…but passion can’t be.Taken from:Guest Post – Ben Starr – How to Watch a MasterChef Premiere…from a MasterChef Survivor

Which was the worst post-dreadnought battleship?

Interesting question. There has been several battleships designed after HMS Dreadnought (well, the 1906 one) that had a number of flaws that hindered their capacities and made them less than ideal, but in my eyes, the battleships which were the most outclassed and obsolete when enterring service and was designed after the dreadnought were not from one of the big, traditional naval powers of the 20th century, but instead from a navy that had hit rock bottom after a century of awful decline: the España-class battleships of the Spanish Navy.The España-class España, not the one which was named España from the start but the one which was renamed from Alfonso XIII to España in 1931; yes, it already gets confusing.When the revolutionary HMS Dreadnought was launched in 1906, she brought in her wake a naval revolution; with her mono-caliber main battery configuration, as well as considerable speed, size and protection for the time, she outclassed all other battleships in service. At that point, the Spanish Navy was at rock bottom. Once the world’s mightiest, the Spanish Navy had arguably peaked in the 16th century, but had since then enterred a slow decline which had hasted during the Napoleonic era, in which Spain was occupied, and the independence proccess of its mainland American colonies launched. The navy of an impoverished Spain, outclassed by the vastly richer and more industrialized states of the rest of Western Europe, was absolutely slayed by the Americans in the 1898 Spanish-American war, in which 11 Spanish cruisers were lost, while no large ships were lost by the Americans. Since then, the Spanish Navy had been unable to properly rebuild, with the parliament of the Kingdom of Spain refusing plans for three (1903) or even eight (1905) battleships, judged far too expensive for Spain’s budget. In 1907, a more military-friendly government led by conservative Antonio de Maura finally agreed to a naval plan that was to include three battleships and a number of smaller escort vessels. That plan was approved by the parliament on the 2nd of December 1907 and signed into law on the 7th of January 1938.The flaws that would hinder the España were already present in the naval plan that would give birth to them. Indeed, while they were called battleships, Spain could not afford to pay for ships the size of what other naval powers, and notably the USA, Great-Britain and Germany, were building. Even if they could, Spain’s naval facilities were vastly unsuited to maintain ships of those size, let alone produce them. Therefore, the requirements formulated by the Spanish Navy requested a ship that was to be as compact as possible, with a required displacement of 15,000 tons; in comparison, the HMS Dreadnought had about 18,000, and the ships that would begin construction in the same year, 1909, would have displacements going from around 20,000 (Colossus-class) all the way up to 25,000 (Kaiser-class) tons.Nonetheless, quite a few companies offered designs to the Spanish Navy. Four different offers were made: One by a group led by Ansaldo and notably including the Austro-Hungarian Skoda; one led by the French Schneider-Creusot and including French FCM and FCG; The Sociedad Española de Construcción Naval, which, while officially Spanish, had British Vickers as its largest shareholder (40%, the Spanish Translantic Company and Biscay Furnace Company owning the rest) and had its designs be the product of exclusively British designers; and an association of smaller Spanish industrialists which, unlike the others, failed to produce a clear design.The SECN design which would eventually be adopted.All three of the more serious, internationally-backed competitor offered a eight-gun design, with one forward, one aft and two offset amidship twin turrets, though Ansaldo also produced an alternative design with one aft and one forward triple-turrets, and a centerline amidships turret. However, Vickers of the de-facto British SECN, which had already been in contact with the government prior to the formulation of the requirements; the first conclusions the Spanish Navy made on the designs, in October of 1908, put the Schneider and SECN designs as the best, and further evaluation in November led to the adoption of the SECN design, though it was slightly revised before a contract was signed on the 14th of April 1909. The ships were to be produced in Spain, in a new drydock constructed for the occasion in Ferrol; however, Spain was still very dependent on the British, which provided the ship’s 305mm guns, armor plates and fire controls. Production started in 1909, with the first battleship to be completed after four years, the second five years, and the third seven years. In practice, the first battleship, España, was launched in 1912 and operational by October of 1913; the second, Alfonso XIII, was launched in 1913 and operational by August of 1915; the last, Jaime I, was launched in September of 1914, but as deliveries of British equipment vastly slowed down and, for the main artillery, outright stopped during the first world war, she would only be completed in December of 1921.An España-class ship in contruction. All ships were produced in Ferrol, Spain, but required a number of British-made equipment to be operational.So, what was the problem with those ships ? They were flawed with a variety of them, but the stem of all of the España’s flaws is its size. It really is the most basic thing in all of naval design, but the bigger a ship is, the more armor she can have, the more guns she can be fitted with, and the bigger the engines that power her can be. And Spain, because it did not have the infrastructure or finances needed for a large ship, had asked from those who were to produce its dreadnoughts ships that were light, small, and inexpensive. The results were the smallest dreadnoughts battleships: with a lenght of merely 140m (132m at waterline), a beam of 24m and a draft of 7.8m, the España were truly tiny in comparison to other ships of the same era. They also were the lightest dreadnoughts battleships: with a standard displacement of 15,700 tons and a full load of 16,450 tons, the España were closer to heavy or protected cruisers than most battleships in displacement. The crew of the ships was also quite reduced in comparison to other ships of that type, with just 854 men. As a result of this, the España were relatively cheap to maintain and were within the size of what the Spanish Navy’s infrastructure could substain.But to obtain small and substainable ships, the British designers of SECN had to sacrifice… everything else. When the first ship was commissioned, in 1913, it was hopelessly obsolete against any design enterring service around the same date. When it came to armor layout, the only part of the España which was somewhat up to date was the conning tower and barbettes, with 10 inches (254mm) of armor. The main belt and turrets were merely 8 inches (203mm), and the deck 1.5 inches (38mm). The upper part of the belt, protecting the casemate guns, was just 6 inches (152mm). The torpedo bulkheads supposed to protect the ship from underwater threats were poorly designed; being very closer to the hull’s center, they offered practically no additional protection. Ships commissionned around the same era were generally more armored than the España in every domain, particularly main armor belts which could reach 12 inches (305mm, British King George V) all the way up to 13.8 (350mm, German König) inches.The armament of the ships was mediocre as well, with eight 305mm Vickers Mark H guns. While they could theorically fire at more than 20km (which was more than practical combat distance for ships of the era, even with better armament; at Jutland, the British and German battlecruiser formations opened fire on each other at just 14km, far below their theorical maximum range), those guns had a rate of fire of just a round per minute (German 30.5cm SK L/50s could theorically fire at 2 to 3 rpm, though in practice most ships only fired about a salvo per minute). With just eight guns, the firepower offered was limited, and while theorically all could be fired in a broadside, blast effects were very negative for the ship. Even worse, the España were very unstable platforms, mostly because of their very poor seakeeping capacities brought by their small size; this meant that on a sea that wasn’t calm, their accuracy was very severely limited. Not only that, but just eight 305mm gun was a rather limited firepower for 1913/1914: the British had moved on to ten 343mm guns on the King George V, and while the German König kept 305mm guns, it had ten of them. Otherwise, the España offered twenty casemate 4 inches (102mm) guns, which suffered even more than the 305mm from the ship’s poor seakeeping, being about absolutely unusable in heavy seas and had unsufficient elevation, with a theorical maximum range of 9km, but a practical one most likely considerably lower. Two anti torpedo-boat Skoda 47mm guns and two Maxim machine-guns completed the armament, and the ship also contained two 76.2mm Armstrong guns which were to be used to support landing troops.Not only was the España-class lightly armored and armed, but the platform itself was very poor. As mentioned previously, the ships, small and poorly-shaped, were unstable and very poor at sailling in rough seas. Not only that, but the ships themselves were slow: powered by four turbines fed by twelve Yarrow coal boilers, with a maximum normal power output of 22,000shp. All three reached about 20 knots during trials, with the maximum speed in combat conditions being 19.5 knots, generally about one and a half knot behind the King George V and König; while a rather negligible difference, it would go on to be quite a lot more significant when the Royal Navy commissioned the Queen Elizabeth-class, rated for 23 knots and first commissioned in 1914.So, in short, the España were bad at pretty much everything. They were underarmed, underprotected, rather slow and very bad in high seas. They realistically could barely have been a match for the first classes of dreadnoughts; but by the point they enterred service, the British and Germans were pioneering much larger and heavier super-dreadnoughts against which the España would have been little more than cannon fodder. Nonetheless, the Spanish Navy kept its España class thorought the interwar, and, unable to spare the funds for such an enterprise, would never order any more battleships.During the very large uprising that was the 1920–1927 Rif war, in Spanish Morocco, the España-class ships did see plenty of use as artillery batteries, providing a very considerable firepower to Spanish landing troops. Despite fighting a navy-less enemy, the Spanish did manage to lose one of their three España, the first ship of the class, and its namesake: the España ran aground near Mellila on the 26th of August 1923. The Spanish really wanted to get her out of there, because losing a battleship to coastal rocks while firing at Moroccan peasants really doesn’t improve the reputation of a navy. They hired two companies, but the two surveyed the wreck and decided that she was unsalvageable. The Spanish Navy really wanted to save España though, so they removed everything they could remove: artillery, machinery, armor, ect. They ordered lifting equipment from Italy, but several storms further damaged the hull before it was delivered and made the ship unsalvageable; she broke into two in November of 1924. I suspect the humiliation of the loss of a ship named after her country at least gave a lesson for the Germans, who renamed the Deutschland Panzerschiffe Lützow in 1940 in case she ended up being sunk (ironically, she actually was one of the few German capital ships which didn’t)Well, that sucks.Spain never really got the lesson though; after king Alfonso XIII was overthrown and a Republic installed in 1931, they renamed the Alfonso XIII to España. Both the surviving ships had received some modifications, notably receiving two Vickers 76.2mm anti-aircraft gunsin 1926 and having their foremast reduced in the 1930s. When the Spanish civil war broke out, in 1936, in a way that seemed prepared to give Spain’s last battleships an epic duel, one, the España, sided with the Nationalists, and another, the Jaime I, with the Republicans. Both side somewhat modified their ships: The Nationalists removed the 76.2mm guns and rolled in four shiny, new 88mm SK C/30 guns from their German sponsors, as well as two 20mm C/30 autocannons. The Republicans fitted two Vickers 47mm anti-aircraft guns and a twin Hotchkiss 25mm mounting. The Nationalist ship operated in the Atlantic, and the Republican one in the Mediterranean, but surely they would end up facing each other in an epic naval battle, right ?Well, all hope of a fight of the sister-enemies ended when the Nationalist España sank on a mine on the 30th of April 1937.A mine that had been laid by her own side.Well, that sucks.Just five seamen died in the sinking, which took more than three hours; for a battleship sinking in wartime, those are incredibly low casualties. Still, for a time, the Republicans must have been rejoicing. They now had the only battleship in all of Spain ! Sure, the nationalists still had the most modern Spanish capital ship, the Baleares cruiser, but still, they had a battleship !… Then, on the 17th of June 1937, the Jaime I just blew up. Not because of a bomb or a mine. Actually, we don’t know why she blew up, she just detonated in Cartagena’s harbour, killing more than 300. And the España-class was no more.I have not been able to find a photo of the Jaime I’s wreck, but for the Republicans, it sucked quite a lot. Here the ship is docked in Almeria.That being said, the turrets of the España-class served quite a lot longer than the battleships. Turrets from both the first España and the Jaime I were recovered before or after the ship’s sinking, and were then placed in various strategic parts of the Spanish coast as coastal defence. They actually served in that role far beyond the end of WW2 and even outlived the Soviet Union, the last being phased out only in 1999.But while their turrets may have lasted for a good while, the España class remained rather terrible ships. Barely competitive against first-generation dreadnoughts, they were, by 1913, barely more than a way for Spain to claim it still had a great navy; the battleships of not only the great European powers, but even Brazil, Argentine and Chile far outclassed the Spanish warships. By the interwar, they offered little more than fire support platforms, and all three of them, generally poorly maintained by an unstable and impoverished Spain, had particularly undignified ends, none by the hand of an enemy ship.Small civilians boats massing around two of the España-class battleships. While the ship may appear large in this picture, any other battleship of the era would have looked enormous: the tiny España-class just didn’t have the size and displacement required to compete with other battleships, and in some ways were arguably closer to glorified coastal defence ships than true battleships.

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