The Sea and Me....
The Atlantic Ocean was flat as glass. We cruised out of the Chesapeake Bay. I was very excited and nervous about my new on-board position. The charged atmosphere and the lively chatter in the submarine was.. over this next patrol. Yours truly was sitting at the BCP (ballast control panel), ready for his first descent at the switches. The room was full of activity, on this particular morning. Skipjack had a new crew member sitting at the helm and dive planes. The captain was in the conning tower. He ordered the three men down from topside. The upper sail and bridge was cleared. I prepared to dive the boat for the first time. The hatches were all secured.... green lights on the board. The order was given. I opened all the vents and the boat started to submerge. Newly qualified and having my dolphins, life was good. The boat was trimmed and balanced for sea. The transit depth reached, and the course set. The Fast Attack Sub was now on its way, deep and fast. The Yosemite Sam at the wheel, he was in my old seat. The next six hours with me operating the ships control board was the first of many watches. Bobby McGee, the other board watch stander and I switching off the dive panel station every 6 hours. The rest of the crew standing the standard duty. That being the normal, three man rotation. The next two months would be hard on both of us, doing back to back. This trip was a special mission. The boat was rigged for surveillance video. Camera and viewing screen, through the new periscope. The spies on-board ran this equipment. Once on station, the crew was back into the routine. The days fell into a rhythm. Our mission was very successful dogging the enemy fleet. The one real issue happened on my watch toward the end of our mission. One of the new guys bringing the boat to periscope depth was having trouble. Seas in the North Atlantic were very rough, that day. He couldn't maintain the depth. Everyone was yelling at this kid. The boat could have been spotted. The sail was exposed in hostile waters, time and again. The kid finally had enough of this and snapped. He put the boat into full dive position. The sailor was screaming back in anger with his eyes bulging out. he was red in the face and showed a new kind of crazy. This sailor would not release the dive angle. The Skipjack was headed down. The crew had to physically remove him from the seat. The dive chief jumped into the chair and recovered the boat. The man was wrestled to the deck. He had to be sedated. This mission now had a real issue. The boat must return to Scotland, it took days. The medic on-board was constantly monitoring this sailor's health and well being. The nervous breakdown and deteriorating mental condition had us all on edge. The sailor was removed from the boat and from submarine duty. once in port. We ended that long run patrol, a little early. This guy was liked by all of us. I felt terrible. His dad was a diesel boat sub sailor. These stresses can get to anybody. This crew knew the risks of these patrols. At times, the job, the crew or just the stress and fear of the unknown, can cause issues. These emotions always an uneasy companion. How the crew handled the crisis situations was crucial. Bobby McGee and Benito had back to back watches. The fatigue and sleep deprived moments can cause lack of focus. Twelve hours a day on the BCP station in the control room was not easy. The real sea drama playing out moment to moment. Six hours at a time, boredom certainly wasn't our problem. The enemy ships, the ice, equipment troubles, the extra work load all factors to face. Then your personal laundry..... hygiene, eating and sleeping and the drills, this on your off time. That was enough to drive you crazy. This made Bobby and yours truly start a short timer calendar. We both had about nine more months to go until we left the navy. That now was playing with my head. The captain, to relieve some stress call for a swim day,on the way back across the Atlantic. The Skipjack was in the warm gulf current. We surfaced and stopped the boat, far from any shore just drifting. The sea was very smooth, flying fish, were darting around us. The crew had this amazing day at sea. The cargo net was attached to the starboard side. The sail plane became a diving board. The whole crew, hit the eighty degree water. It was surreal looking at the boat free in the deep blue sea. The crew and officers were floating in six thousand feet of water. Surrounded by blue so deep, it was a shock to my soul. The shark watch stander with a sub machine gun brings me back to reality. The swim was so different. The swim trunks required and a good idea, especially hitting the water from sixteen feet high. This experience at sea made me more at home on the blue water. The only problem was the big ass jelly fish going by. I was afraid that the shark watch would start shooting. These "man of war" jellies, you just want to stay clear of ….and the sailor with an automatic weapon in his hands.. That was an unbelievable time, it was definitely a first. Diving into the unknown waters and having your buddies right by your side. This was the crew.. all of us wearing big smiles. These guys were real men at sea. Back in Norfolk, the crew was enjoying their off time. The space program had sent a man, to walk on the moon. The music was the best of all time. This summer of 69', it really moved me to find myself.. I had met all my goals to this point. I was relating to Johnnie Cash's song "a boy named Sue." This naval sub service made me way tougher. The sailor back on the train going to New London for the first time, was scared of his own shadow. That was the summer of 66'. The sub service was now my home. The few days, we had in Scotland had been interesting. The crew was off duty, the liberty was entertaining. We had a real show at the pub, one evening. This Scottish girl and a Irish lassie had a brawl. It was over old boat chief.. stationed on the sub tender ship, the Simon Lake. These two girl's tempers matched any that I'd ever seen. Blood, guts and beer an a language that stung your ears. The battle over the chief. This guy gets up and left with somebody else. That was the Navy. The drinks filled our belly’s and we laughed out loud. We were glad to be going home. The guys not talking about the incident or the last mission. The code of the sea was silence.
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