USS CARR (FFG-52) “Business Card” c.1989Destiny. The USS CARR (FFG-52), freshly returned from a Persian Gulf deployment, where she escorted re-flagged “American” crude carriers entering and departing from the Strait of Homuz. With a crew of 189, bloated by a “single plane” detachment (meaning one helicopter) from HSL-44 (about 14 men – 5 pilots and 9 enlisted), added to a three helo detachment of AH-6 “Little Bird” helos from the Army Special Forces, they had professionally performed their duties, while in cramped quarters with their assigned and augmented “shipmates.” In addition to just being responsible for operating the ship and the air assets assigned, there were small boats and two armed barges in the Persian Gulf, which were also under the command of the Convoy Commodores. The CARR’s CO, CDR Wade C. Johnson regularly fulfilled this duty, which meant the CARR’s crew handled a large number of air and sea fighting craft, on top of their weapons and sensors. They were busy, but in the 4 actual months of doing this job, well versed in the techniques used and management of the apparent chaos of all the moving puzzle pieces. Few of the crew left the ship between the return to the States (22 March, 1988) and the day of 24 April, 1988.
USS CARR (FFG-52) – Recent PictureFor the crew of the USS BONEFISH (SS-582), this becomes a blessing.I only know this story through the words of those who were there, who became my shipmates when I reported to USS CARR in September, 1988. Three people, two from the CARR’s crew, and one from the USS BONEFISH have responded and provided me with their recollection of the day’s events. I also managed to find the CARR’s monthly mandated ship history reports from this time period. I do not know exact time frames, as the inputs and my recollection of CDR Johnson’s recitation differ, so please discount such conflicts and know there is far more to be researched.
Click each page for a larger image
The story of the fire at sea began, as told by CDR Johnson, like so (I will paraphrase the report):

We were sitting eating supper, when the OOD [Officer of the Deck] called the Wardroom to inform me that the BONEFISH had reported via GERTRUDE [underwater radio] that she had a fire aboard, it was under control, but she was surfacing. I told the OOD to put the second engine online and to get over to the last known position of the submarine. The worst we’ll look is foolish, but if they need us, we’ll be right there.

From the Wikipedia BONEFISH entry:

On 24 April 1988, Bonefish was exercising with the guided missile frigate Carr (FFG-52) 160 miles off the coast of Florida. While the sub was submerged, seawater began leaking onto cables and electrical buses in a battery supply cableway. Electrical arcing between cables caused an explosion which flashed into a fire within minutes. Temperatures in the battery spaces reached 1,200 degrees. The heat melted crewmembers’ shoe soles in the spaces above. Bonefish was surfaced and its crew ordered to abandon ship. Eighty-nine crewmembers were rescued by whaleboat and helicopter crews from Carr and John F. Kennedy (CV-67).

The CARR’s OOD ordered the EOOW to bring up the second engine, which was started by the Propulsion Systems Monitor, GS2 Shawn Hubbartt, as directed by the EOOW brought the engine online.

GSM2 Hubbartt:
I was stationed onboard the USS Carr (FFG 52) and we were out to sea operating with the USS John F. Kennedy (CV 67) somewhere off the coast of Florida that I can remember.

I was a GSM2 at the time and working in the Main Engine Room when the CO came across the 1MC informing the crew that a diesel submarine who was operating with us had surfaced very close to the Kennedy on her starboard beam… Working in Engineering, I didn’t get to see much sun light so I went up to the starboard side main deck by the torpedo tubes to go look… I could see a small submarine on the surface in broad daylight right off the starboard beam of the carrier. I didn’t think much of it at the time except that it was rather rare for a diesel sub to surface in broad day light.

I was on watch on I think at the time the 1600 – 2000 watch… I think that was the watch rotation I was in for that week. The CO came over the 1MC again only this time he said that we have a ship in distress and that we are running at high speed to go assist… He said that the USS Bonefish had a casualty at 500 feet, had to emergency surface and we were to go assist them.

USS BONEFISH 24 April, 1988 USS CARR’s motor whaleboat

Photo Credit: Paul Perris on navsource.orgH/T: Hundreds of Fathoms Blog for the pictures of the rescue.The emergency aboard the BONEFISH was a fire in the battery compartment. CTC Rod Frank was on board BONEFISH as a Sonar Seaman:

I will tell you what I remembered.

We were out on a 2 week exercise with the USS CARR, USS KENNEDY, and the USS STURGEON. The exercise was completed early on the 24th and most were headed home. The KENNEDY was already 50-60 miles away when the fire was called away.

I had just completed my submarine qualification board that morning as well so I was pretty tired and I went to my rack for a couple of hours. Around 1600 there was a 1MC announcement that there was an unknown ground on the forward battery well. Most of our fire drills started this way so my first thought was that we were going to do another drill. The next thing I know one of our electricians come in and he empties a CO2 fire extinguisher into the forward well. I moved out into the passage way to assist as much as possible. There were a couple of key players one A-ganger and a couple of electricians trying to put out the fire.

The next thing I know here comes a fire ball out of the overhead and it blows me and the other guys that were chained together through our EAB’s into the crews mess. I remember thinking that those guys are all dead the fireball rolled right over their backs and didn’t do the damage that it could have. By now though we cant see a thing in the midships compartment. It is completely black. We lost comms a few minutes later and we could feel the flames rushing across the battery well under our feet. The next thing that I remember was someone passing the word to abandon ship.

CDR Johnson described the next part of the operation:

We came up to the BONEFISH’s position at full speed, when the sub popped to the surface, the hatches came flying open and the crew was piling out like ants getting out of their nest after being disturbed. Smoke was billowing from the sub from all three of the deck hatches. I ordered 5 life rafts (the encapsulated ones) into the water and to get the motor whaleboat ready to tow them to the sub.

ET2 Joe Smirniotis witnessed this happening:

I remember seeing the black smoke rising from the hatch of the Bonefish, men exiting quickly. I asked the XO if I needed to film it and I ran to IC Gyro and got the ships movie camera. I video taped it all. The life rafts being deployed and the motor whale boat.
Our crew was willing to do all that was needed. These are our ship mates needing our help and our prayers.
Our rafts did not work. I remember 2 out of 5 inflating and one of them only part way, the top did not inflate.

CDR Johnson told me two of the rafts just hit the water and kept going down. Those were a major item inspected by the Board of Inspection and Survey, specifically to get a feel for the reliability of them. This incident supported the fleet knowledge I had that the failure rate was 50% as observed by the INSURV inspectors.

The LT Robert “Bob” Threlkeld was the Engineer Officer on CARR. CDR Johnson told him to get in the whaleboat, go over and find the CO of the BONEFISH, CDR Wilson, and bring him back aboard. Bob did. He told me he climbed aboard the sub and walked among the crew until he found the CO. He noted the smoke coming from the hatches was the worst thing he had ever smelled.

The BONEFISH CO and Bob returned and headed for CDR Johnson’s cabin. To the day CDR Johnson left the CARR in Sept, 1989, he kept the small dry erase board, with the drawing intact, that he and the sub’s skipper used to sketch the basic interior of the sub, to decide if they should mount an effort to enter the sub and fight the fire/look for survivors. The decision was there really wasn’t a chance to do that.

Sometime early in the disaster, a HS-3 SEA KING from the KENNEDY came and hovered over the BONEFISH, dropping the “horse collar” to the stricken submariners. CDR Johnson, from his close vantage point, noticed the submariners didn’t know how to get into the rescue hoist apparatus properly. He directed the CARR’s air controller to order the KENNEDY’s helo away, and to send in the HSL-44 SH-60B. Once overhead, the HSL-44 helo sent the rescue swimmer to the sub, who then assisted the BONEFISH crew in getting hoisted and flown to safety.

From STSN Rod Frank:

We didnt know if we were surfaced or not but someone went up and opened the hatch and we started to get topside. I remember that when I got up there were maybe 40 or so of my shipmates hanging on to the safety track and we could see helos coming at us. The first one came in and a swimmer jumped off and came to help get us on board. By that time we also had a life raft over the side and some guys were climbing into it. I hung around and waited for one of the helos. I left with the XO and we were taken to the CARR. These guys took us in and made us as comfortable as possible. We were all in shock this whole evolution unfolded in less than a half an hour. We spent the next few hours trying to locate our friends not knowing if they survived or not. Some of the injured were flown to the KENNEDY for medical treatment.

Shawn Hubbart reports from his view point:

I monitored the start of the standby GTM, and then waited to see what was happening… I heard the engines slow down to idle and then I went up to the port side escape trunk to go take a look at the sub.

I saw that we were quite close to a submarine on our port quarter. Then I saw the forward hatch open up and a lot of brown smoke started pouring out of this thing… I’d only been in the Navy for only about 2 years, but I do know that this couldn’t be a good thing… There isn’t anywhere to run on a submarine when there is smoke, especially brown smoke.

Then I saw a lot of sailors climbing out of the sub in what I refer to ants running out of an ant hill with water rolling in. Not a correct statement to make but it started me to see these fellow sailors cling onto this submarine on the open ocean with nothing to hold on to. I remember that we set flight quarters and we launched our motor whale boat to pick up these sailors…

Several helos were flying around us and the sub. We had our helo up in the air and I guess the Kennedy had theirs up as well…

During this this rescue operation, the “normal” communications paths were bypassed in favor of a “COTS” (Commercial Off The Shelf) system that had been in the fleet for only a few years at this point: The Joint Operations Tactical System or simply “JOTS.” While there were all the voice circuits and teletype communications available, the JOTS “OPNOTE” system, basically what we know today as email, was used to communicate directly between the On Scene Commander (CARR) and Commander, Atlantic Fleet (CINCLANTFLT). The status reports and rescued crew rosters were sent to the CINCLANTFLT Command Center, giving the Fleet Commander a first person story of the action. OSC(SW) Mike Bennett was the one I understand that kept the messages flowing as the leading Operations Specialist.

The evacuation of the BONEFISH continued, with triage being performed by HMC(SW) “Doc” Mentzer. Some of the submariners, in need of more detailed medical care were flown to the USS KENNEDY, I believe about 14 of them.

Shawn Hubbartt;

We picked up several of the sailors from the Bonefish and took them onboard with us. I remember hearing that we picked up about 80 or so sailors and there were about 14 who were seriously injured that went to the Kennedy.

Below are the accounts of what happened as the BONEFISH sailors came aboard:

Joe Smirniotis:

As the crew of the Bonefish came aboard they were given soap to shower, clothing and shoes to wear by the crew, I gave up uniforms and my tennis shoes. They were so happy.

Shawn Hubbartt:

We, the crew, gave the Bonefish sailors some of our coveralls, dungarees and shoes to wear since they had lost everything they had on the sub. We pretty much gave everything we could to these sailors since we had just had a pay day about a week or so prior to this accident. It was the least that we could do for them… I personally thought I could have given him more if he had wanted it.

I remember one sailor in particular. I don’t remember his name but I gave him my pair of tennis shoes and my rack for the night. We would be heading home to take these boys back to Charleston, SC.

I talked with this sailor and showed him what I do on the ship and he told me what he does. He was an EN3 and his job was the “Oiler” in the engine room onboard the sub. I didn’t know what that was but he told me that it was his job to oil the piston heads and valves on the main diesel engines when they were operating.

I showed him the diesel generators onboard and I remember him telling me that we had it easy with these diesels since there were valve covers on them.

The details beyond this point in the operation we’re too widely discussed, but I can comprehend the efforts made, the details and specific, seemingly small tasks that had to occur to result in the positive outcome that we know. Putting several rafts and the whaleboat in the water, crewed for rescue and assistance (R&A) work, controlling multiple helos and reporting to higher authority, while also coordinating with the KENNEDY for support is a huge task. CDR Johnson, while recounting this to me, said “We could not have done this if we had not had the experiences we had in the Persian Gulf.” He was convinced a good crew would have struggled at all of this, but to the then present crew of the CARR, making that many “puzzle pieces” work together was second nature. His point was it is an acquired skill to be able to listen to multiple radio circuits, have a conversation, listen to voice reports, direct things to happen and report up the chain of command. I have been in such positions and it takes time to train yourself to listen for the “right” words for the present situation and then focus on whole sentences coming your way when a key word is picked out of the other noise.

Rod Frank:

I cant tell you enough how much great the crew of the USS CARR was to us. Their search and rescue team were completely professional. They did an amazing job getting 92 of 95 Sailors off that burning submarine. Then they tried their best to make us comfortable for that long ride to Mayport.

The CARR took the BONEFISH survivors into Naval Station, Mayport, on April 25th, then returned to the scene and provided support to the submarine rescue (USS PETREL) and salvage (USS HOIST) ships that had arrived. USS MCCLOY (FF-1038) was also on scene to assist by this time. CARR was the ready flight deck for the receiving of supplies from shore for the salvage ships, and provided a lee for the smaller vessels during rough seas.

Shawn Hubbartt:

We pulled into port I think the next day so we could send these sailors home. Then we went back out to sea to watch over the Bonefish and the rescue efforts.

When we got back out to the area where the Bonefish had surfaced, there were a couple of ARS ships out there along with their dive teams. I think the USS Grapple and USS Grasp were there.

I remember hearing that the divers from the ARS’s were trying to keep the Bonefish afloat since the fire that was onboard had gutted the ship. The divers were trying to fill up the forward ballast tanks with High Pressure Air to keep her afloat for the tow.

Rod Frank:

We pulled into Mayport the next morning and we were flown from there to Charleston SC still without knowing who made it and who didnt. We learned a couple of days later that 3 of our shipmates didnt make it off that day.

Upon completion of the initial salvage and securing work, CARR escorted the BONEFISH, under tow, back to Charleston. Arriving approximately 1430 on the 29th of April, the CARR was met by a large banner made by the families of the BONEFISH crew men saying “Thank you, USS CARR.” CDR Johnson said the families came aboard to personally express their thanks for the work of the crew.

Not all of the BONEFISH’s crew survived. Three of our shipmates perished in the fire:

• Lt. Ray Everts
• 1st Class Petty Officer Bob Bordelon
• 3rd Class Petty Officer Todd Lindgren

CDR Johnson told me all three of those men had recently reported aboard and were found in their working spaces. Do you ever think those semi-annual “Emergency Egress” drills from you berthing and work spaces are unnecessary? I found some ships, while years after this I was an inspector, and noted some made it a point to hold this training for all newly reported crew members with in 72 hours of their reporting aboard, then they would enter the 6 month training cycle with the other crewmen.

Update 4/26/2007:

From QM2/SS Richard Neault, another account from a crewman of the BONEFISH. It tells something of the fate of the three men named above, as well as provides more details on the operational conditions during the fire:

At the time of the accident I was on watch in the control room. I was a Quartermaster and at the time was a third class (Qm3/ss). We were operating with the USS Carr (FFG 52) and the JFK (CV 67) doing war games. The Carr had asked us to go deep to commence an operation, we were at periscope depth (PD). We started to go down to 250ft and the boat took on a down angle. At that time, the maneuvering room called up and said they had lost the ground on the battery well. The officer of the deck (OOD) told them to wait until we reached depth and then send a man into the well to see what was wrong. After we had reached 250ft, a man was sent into the battery well to find the problem when he then called out fire in the berthing spaces. The battery well is located under the berthing spaces. From there it gets kinda foggy for me as I did not monitor the phone communications. About 15 minutes after the fire alarm was sounded, there was a loud bang and the boat began to shudder. Instantly the boat filled with smoke. VERY thick and heavy black smoke. It came rushing into the control room and filled the room in about a second. By then the CO had already ordered us to PD, but when the smoke filled the compartment, the CO ordered an emergency blow. We surfaced, unfortunately the OOD was not wearing an emergency air breathing device (EAB). He was unable to get the hatch open and unfortunately succumbed to smoke inhalation. His name was Lt. Ray Everts. A quick side note, all three of the men who died in the fire were fairly new onboard. I had just had a conversation with Lt. Everts about the Quartermaster division on the Bone. He said that we were the best Qm division he had worked with thus far in his Navy career. He was a good guy. After we had surfaced, we were eventually able to get the control room hatch open and start one of the diesels. We used it to suck the smoke out of the compartment. The men fighting the fire were trying to get to the flames. Unfortunately, the fire was in the insulation that was located behind the walls in the berthing compartment. We would have had to remove the bunks and then the walls in order to get to it. They sure tried though. After we had been surfaced for about 15 minutes there was another loud bang and once again the compartment filled with heavy smoke. This time it flamed out the engine and aparently it had melted through an air line. At that point the CO realized that the fire was now being fed by this air line and the only thing left to do was to abandon ship and lock down the hatches and hope it burned itself out. Unfortunately, Robert (Bob) Bordelon (RM1/ss) had some sort of medical emergency (heart attack??) in the radio room and was already unconscious. YN3 Todd Lindgren was at the midships hatch waiting for his turn to go topside when he snapped (freaked out) and disappeared into the smoke. The Doc tried to locate him but was unable to due to the smoke. He was 20 years old, old enough to die for his country, but too young to buy a beer. RM1 Bordelon was less than a year from retirement. The official cause of the fire was an electrical short across the battery bus ties that eventually caught the insulation on fire. The Garbage Disposal Unit (GDU) in the crews mess had a leaky valve. That valve had apparently been leaking for some time and the salt water ate through the decking into the battery well. When we made our angle to go down to 250ft, the water that had pooled poured into the well and caused arching and sparking and from there it is now history. Had there been an explosion due to the buildup of hydrogen gas (as some sub experts claimed), you wouldn’t be reading this because I would be dead. Several of the crew of the Bone have been subsequently retired from the Navy for various reasons, including myself. Mainly because of the rumor and speculation surrounding the accident. Unfortunately, those of us who wanted the subs to be our career have had a hard time readjusting to civilian life. It isn’t that we were blamed by the Navy, its just that crews on board other boats felt that we didn’t do enough to save our shipmates, even though they were not there to actually be aware of what happened.

End of update 4/26/2007

As the CARR Command History for April 1988 reports, a memorial ceremony for those who died was held at St Mathews Lutheran Church at 405 King Street in Charleston, SC on Saturday, 28 April, 1988.

On December 23rd, 1988, Commander, Destroyer Squadron SIX, CAPT Jerry Lewis, awarded the Meritorious Unit Citation (MUC) to the USS CARR (FFG-52). Several Navy Commendation and Appreciation medals, and Letters of Commendation were also presented to the crew for their professionalism during this rescue at sea.

Here is a reflection by then GSM2 Shawn Hubbartt to wrap up his story, one with the appreciation gained from disaster:

Later on the magnitude of the fire finally came to me when I learned about the severity of the fire. I wasn’t aware that there were sailors who perished in the fire. I remember reading about the fire onboard the Bonefish and I was amazed of how severe that fire was and how fast the fire spread. A fire onboard any ship is dangerous no matter what. But I guess I took some of it for granted since I was on a surface ship and I could go out topside and get some fresh air every once in awhile.

The final word goes to Rod Frank:

The CO’s name for BONEFISH was CAPT Wilson. I don’t know much about him. He had just taken over from CDR Toney and this was his first underway period with us after an extended in port period. We had some issues that needed fixed and we were pierside in Charleston for almost 2 months before the exercise.

I do know that if he hadn’t ordered us to abandon ship when he did most if not all of the crew would have died in the fire.

Hard decisions had to be made, and thankfully, many are here to tell the tale.

I am thankful to GSCS Shawn Hubbartt (still on active duty, stationed aboard DDG-88), Joe Smirniotis and Rod Frank for their first person reports. I contacted them via Navy – Together We Served, which is a tremendous asset for such work.

Tracked back @: stikNstein, Castle Argghhh!, Third World County

Drifting slowing from the pier at the Naval Station, the crew’s attention is focused on the many tasks at hand. The first priority is to get safely away from the pier and “headed fair” in the channel for the outbound transit of Charleston Harbor.

The trip to the sea buoy takes about 1.5 hours, which is not the longest or shortest Sea and Anchor details for the East Coast, but it’s the one every knows you have to keep your head in the game, for the channel is narrow, the landmarks for navigation are mostly man made and there is little forgiveness in this channel. The Conning Officer will keep his eyes on the series of ranges that populate the shores of the Cooper river and the harbor itself to guide the ship safely.

Once clear of the sea buoy, the Sea and Anchor detail will be secured and the deck crew will secure the anchor for sea, wiring the bale on the pelican hook shut and attaching a second turnbuckle as well, after winching the anchor all the way into the hawse pipe.

The general rule of thumb for transits to the Jacksonville Operations Areas (JAXOA) was to leave both LM-2500 gas turbine main engines on line and sprint south, providing a rendezvous time of late afternoon with helos from NAS Mayport, or, in this case, also with the USS JOHN F KENNEDY (CV-67).

Most likely the USS CARR (FFG-52) arrived on station and radioed the KENNEDY to report ready for duty. The KENNEDY would send the message back, assuming tactical command, and a message as to stationing as the anti-submarine warfare (ASW) escort would be next to be heard. The ASW “Module” on the KENNEDY probably, under the direction of the Ship’s Tactical Action Officer (TAO) would direct CARR as to the planned mission specifics, passing info as the last known position of the diesel submarine contact, and detailed tasking on how to best keep the threat at bay. Search plans would be developed to maximize the efforts of the KENNEDY’s air wing HS-3 Sea King helicopters, equipped with dipping active sonars, and the CARR’s embarked SH-60B Sea Hawk.

Diesel submarine hunting is a tough business and a large part of the Soviet Navy’s submarine force were powered that way. So were just about every other sub in the world that was not operated by the US, the Soviets, the Brits or the French. Even the Chinese didn’t have a nuclear sub force at the time. Practice in finding this type of threat was essential to allow our forces to be able to operate near the hostile shoes of an enemy, as a large number of diesel “boats” would be used for coastal defense duties, specifically well suited to the confined and shallow areas near land.

The duty of playing the role of the diesel submarine fell to the USS BONEFISH (SS-582), which was about our last diesel boat in the inventory, as the nuclear powered submarine force held sway with all design and building considerations. the BONEFISH and her crew were the surrogate Soviets, like the Army’s OPFOR at Ft. Irwin. Studied in the manner in which we could expect the Soviet boat skippers to maneuver, the BONEFISH was to provide the expected “profile” for our forces to become acclimated to for time of war.

The last of the day of the 22nd, the night and the day of the 23rd of April would be time for the KENNEDY and CARR’s crews to employ our best technology against a threat as old as the first world war, in order that in a real shooting match, we would return victorious.

Come the next day, the mission had to be re-focused.

It’s Monday morning, 1988. Location: Charleston Naval Station. Assignment: Underway to support USS JOHN F KENNEDY (CV-67) exercises in the JAX OPAREAS.

Before the sun is up, the crew is busy taking care of the multitude of things required to get a ship away from a pier, down a narrow channel, past the sea buoy near Ft Sumter, and to a rendezvous with an aircraft carrier off the Georgia/Florida border. The Operations Officer, LT Franz Ritt has tow major areas of concern: Operations and also deck seamanship. While his title has been changed from “Ship Control Officer,” the original billet title for the FFG-7 OLIVER HAZARD PERRY Class FFGs, to Operations Officer, he retains the responsibility for the Deck Force and all that comes with it. He makes sure the tugs and pilots are on track, that LTJG Scott Brown has the communications up and operating in accordance with the COMM PLAN for the exercise, that LTJG John Jenkins and OSC(SW) Mike Bennett have the Combat Information Center (CIC) online, ready to provide support tot he CO and the bridge by collecting, analyzing, evaluating and disseminating information. That’s fancy words to say they are the center of the plan and make sure everyone keeps on task.

LT Robert “Bob” Threlkeld and his engineering team have the gas turbine powered plant, and the supporting diesel powered electrical generators on line, with shore power disconnected. The “Snipes” have been laboring for a few days now, making sure all services they provide, from electricity of two types to chilled water and conditioned air, to fresh water and sewage removal are working, not only for the comfort of the crew, but more importantly for the support of the ship’s combat systems equipment.

LT Robert “Bob” Powers, as the Combat Systems Officer makes sure the MK 92 Fire Control System, and the Mk 75 gun and MK 13 missile launcher are ready, along with the SQS-56 Sonar, which will used in the exercises to help locate the submarine. STGC(SW) Hatherly and his division officer are in charge of this.

LCDR Thomas “Tom” Brown, the Executive Officer, has made his rounds of the ship, as a second set of eyes, and takes his station on the bridge to receive the readiness reports for getting underway and to keep the Captain, CDR Wade C. Johnson, advised of the status of getting to sea. In addition to being the XO and thereby second in command, Tom Brown is also assigned duties as Ship’s Navigator, in accordance with a COMNAVSURFLANT directive all ships will have at least a LCDR assigned as XO, and if there is not a LCDR in the billet, then the XO of the ship will be assigned those duties. This requirement was the fallout of a few too many groundings occurring aboard SURFLANT ships. The Admiral decreed the assignment of XOs to this duty to get greater experience behind this important job on the vessels. So Tom was monitoring the laying out of the charts on the bridge and, at some point prior to this morning, had also checked the work of CIC to make sure their charts were updated and had the exact same planned track for departing the harbor laid out and understood. As Navigator, all navigational responsibilities in other parts of the ship where part of his purview.

The Officer of the Deck would directly manage the Getting Underway Checklist, which he would have received from the Quarterdeck Officer of the Deck. The Junior Officer of the Deck (JOOD) would be on station, focusing on the tides, currents, prospective track away from the pier, then down the channel, as well as stepping to the bridge wing periodically and looking for and aft to survey the state of the mooring lines. Affixed to the pier by six standard mooring lines, doubled up, all twelve lines would have to be removed from the pier’s bollards and hauled aboard the ship at some point.

The Captain, the XO, and the Officer of the Deck make frequent trips to the outboard bridge wing, checking for other ship movements in the vicinity, looking for the tugs, and scanning for any thing in the water next to the ship that may pose a hazard in leaving the pier.

Are the APU (auxiliary power units) deployed? Is the CHT line disconnected from the pier? Are the phone lines disconnected? Have the Bridge-to-Bridge radio comm check been run? Is the pilot on his way? How many tugs are coming? What’s the state of the current and tides?

Things are checked and re-checked, eyeballs are used to check other eyeballs. It’s not taken personally, it’s become a practice adopted to prevent failure points based on the failure points that men going down to the sea have learned over centuries. The “I’d rather be told twice than not at all” philosophy is in place. The crew functions as one, sometimes verbally, but the critical items are placed on the checklist, just to make sure.

The pilot arrives, the tugs pull up along side, Code Hotel is hoisted on the signal halyards, the Officer of the deck reports to the XO: “Underway Checklist is complete.” The XO approaches the CO and says ” The underway checklist is complete. Request permission to get underway.” “Very Well” comes as the response.

“OOD, permission to get underway!” are the next words heard, which are followed by “Take in all lines. Boatswain’s Mate of the Watch: Standby the 1MC!”

With several key things happening next, the general announcing system (1MC) blasts out a sharp whistle and the words “UNDERWAY! SHIFT COLORS!”

To be continued…

Tracked back @: Yankee Sailor

Today would have been a Sunday, those many years ago, preceding the even. Holiday Routine is the normal situation on the ship. Revillie is delayed, and only the Duty Section (on coming and off going) is required to muster. Chow is much more relaxed and extended, allowing the duty section to get a little extra sleep.

The day is not without work, and I’m sure there was extra activity, given the short notice of the operational requirement, and the shorthanded status of the crew during stand down. Stores and other supplies, delivered to the pier would have to have been broken down off of pallets and hand carried below to the store rooms, magazines and refrigerators. While there is an ammunition elevator in the center of the ship, most items still require “working parties” to be called away to get the job done.

The Command Duty Officer would be busy making sure the events of the Getting Underway Checklist are on track. Despite having easy to start and operate gas turbine engines, basic machinery still drives the propulsion plant and things like heating up the lube oil for the reduction gears, purifying fuel for the filling the service tanks and such things still require a long lead time. Communications checks would be in the works for the day, and checking the message traffic to ensure the request for tugs and pilots from Port services has been confirmed for the sailing times. walks about the ship, for basic cleanliness and to check that spaces are secured for sea are part of the routine. Making sure all the trash gets off the ship, and doesn’t build up are part of the duty of the CDO and the Duty Department heads, as well as the Divisional Petty Officers on Watch.

The Officer of the Deck and his watchstanders monitor the comings and goings from the ship and are the keepers of the Ship’s main phone line, relegating the Messenger or the Petty Officer of the Watch to receptionist duties. Some calls are easy to handle, some are not.

The Duty Engineer has a more extensive checklist and carries most of the responsibility for the efforts on the day before underway to assure the plant is “online and ready to answer all bells” when the Commanding Officer gives permission to get underway the following morning.

By the end of the day, some of the crew not living aboard and not having duty will arrive, choosing to spend the night aboard, so they are not caught in the traffic the next morning. They have their goodbyes with wives and children and head to their berthing space to stow their gear, and then usually go and check to make sure their spaces or work for the dawn are on track, or maybe even complete a few things early, so the next day is not so much of a rush of activity.

The thoughts of many of the crew are not exactly charitable, regarding the sister ship of the squadron, which has been stateside for several months, is not going to sea, and they will be, 31 short days after doing their forward deployed assignment, but they are professionals and sailors, and we all know a happy sailor is a complaining sailor…

Tomorrow: Underway enroute a meeting with notable history.

The A-10 Thunderbolt II has long been the red-headed step child in the Air Force Inventory. Maybe military mythology, but back in the early 70s, I heard the plane being referred to as being shoved down the throats of the USAF by Congressmen, with interests in keeping jobs in their districts. Later, I heard the USAF was scrapping it and the Army enthusiastically stepped up, wanting to take them over. The “Mission Envy” entered the argument and the USAF informed the Army that offensive fixed wing stuff was the domain of the blue suiters and the Army couldn’t have them.

So, here’s the good news: The USAF finally gets it (geez…what slow learners they are!).

Well, after years of a fighter mafia dominance that kicked the A-10 to the curb, Air Force officials finally woke up and realized all anyone cares about these days is putting warheads on foreheads, not shooting down MiGs from 10 miles away. So the blue-suiters have finally given the Hog its due and funneled some much-needed money to the workhorse CAS platform. And now they’re accelerating the Warthog renaissance.

More news at Defense Industry Daily on the details of the A-1oC Precision Engagement Program. I like that sound of that. Too bad Capt Lex is retiring and won’t get the pleasure of precision engagement with the GAU-8.

Now this certainly will come to the front quickly (NOT!) or there will be efforts to, at the least discount, at best, bury, any detailed looks into this report. Talk about and embarrassment at the party’s refreshment bowl, on any side of the aisle:

“I Found Saddam’s WMD Bunkers” from Melanie Phillips’s column in the Spectator.

The reported find of bunkers built under the Euphrates River bed doesn’t seem all that outrageous. Remember the reports about German engineering firms constructing elaborate bunkers for Saddam? No one disputes that. So, possible from a technical standpoint? Yes. Possible from the track record of Saddam? Yes to that, also.

Will we see more to help ferret out the truth? Not likely. Our children will most likely know, long after we go and books are written by historians.

H/T: commenter nuke gingrich at Little Green Footballs

Orange and Maroon Effect Day

But it wasn’t. In a microcosm, it is a lesson about history. In a bigger sense, a scenario to consider thoughtfully.

4/16/2007:
“Dad, he’s alright. Have you seen the news?”
“No, but that’s good to know.”

Later, same day:
“We’re [the four roommates] all fine. XXXX got stuck in the lock down for two hours, but he’s here now. Everyone we know is OK.”

4/18/2007:
“How was the service?”
“It was wonderful and so full we ended up in the football stadium and the entire place was on their feet and chanting at the end.”
“How’s he doing?”
“He’s doing OK. He skipped his class that morning, but his friend went. The class was in the building next to where the shootings were and they are sure they saw him [Cho] walking around in there before it happened.”

The history? Well, you aren’t able to analyze it instantly. With time comes more information, in this case, a chill up the spine moment is revealed, for my son’s sake and those of the students in the business classes one building from the horrible event.

The post deployment “stand down” was truncated because the ship with the commitment couldn’t sail.

Getting a vessel to see is not like taking your 26′ boat out for a spin. Yes, the trailering and jockeying for a position at the boat ramp is exasperating, but no where near the level of effort to get out to a multi-ship exercise.

Communications plans are needed, the Engineer has to make sure he has fuel and water and other valuable consumables, such as lube oil. The 1st LT makes sure all the topside equipment is ready for use and loose gear stowed. The Combat Systems Officer makes sure his crew has sufficient munitions for the events scheduled, and any mandated operational loads. The Navigator has to pre-plan the transit from the pier to the sea buoy, and then to the rendezvous point, carefully checking the safe passage planned and setting a time frame to request the tugs and harbor pilot, so you can arrive at the exercise area as planned. Never late. It’s walking the dog back to make sure you’ll make it and not exceed any defined “speed limits” for transits that are in place for overall fuel economy. The quartermasters double check the work of the Navigator and also make sure the latest corrections for the nautical charts have been marked onto the charts to indicate missing navigational aids, dredging operations and other changes worth paying attention to. The Combat Information Center (CIC) gang has lots of work to make sure they know the schedule of events for the transit and exercises, the designated operations areas and the restrictions that may apply to those areas. On top of that, if any shore based services are required, they need to draft and send coordinating messages to other units to make sure what’s needed is there.

The general process when I was in for the post-deployment stand down was for 1/2 of the crew to go on leave the first 15 days and then the second half was off the last 15 days, then you came back and got back into the swing of things.

In this case, the “get back into the swing of things” happened during the time people were on leave, so it was people shouldering the extra work for those gone, or some coming back early or on some days off, in order to be ready.

This was not just any ship. It was one with 6 months of Earnest Will convoy escorting work. As the second senior command in the Persian Gulf at sea, this ship was regularly assigned the duty of Convoy Commander for oil tankers going one direction, while the Destroyer Squadron Commodore, the ranking commander, was Convoy Commander for a group of vessels going the other direction. The ship had all of it’s duty, plus the duty to manage a herd of merchant vessels, keeping them from harm, while keeping in contact with higher authority, and directly managing the other “assets” in the region to assist. The DESRON Commander had his assigned staff, but then the ship they were riding was left to just perform their duties, and not those responsibilities of commanding a convoy.

The net result of this extra effort for the ship will come to factor into their operations later.

Tracked back @: Yankee Sailor, Third World County

Another email regarding the VT tragedy:

From the President of the Loudoun County, VA chapter of the VT Alumni Association, who received it from headquarters of the Alumni Association.

“Virginia Tech family members across the country have united to declare this Friday, April 20th, an ‘Orange and Maroon Effect’ day to honor those killed in the tragic events on campus Monday, and to show support for Virginia Tech students, faculty, administrators, staff, alumni, and friends. ‘Orange and Maroon Effect’ was born several years ago as an invitation to Tech fans to wear orange and maroon to Virginia Tech athletic events. We invite everyone from all over the country to be a part of the Virginia Tech family this Friday, to wear orange and maroon to support the families of those who were lost, and to support the school and community we all love so much.”

They had returned from their maiden cruise on the 22nd of March, 1998. The first operational deployment now in the past, but they had done the mission the class had been built for: Convoy escort.

Home and enjoying some leave after the 6 months in the Persian Gulf, the tasker arrived in mid April, ordering them to sea on the 31st day after they had returned. The 30 day post-deployment leave and stand down, while by the numbers looked good, was not that, as gearing up to head to sea for fleet operations is not a small undertaking, and not easily handled by half the crew. Some ship, that had been stateside was unable to meet her commitment and this ship was to stand in as the escort for the USS JOHN F KENNEDY (CV-67) as she conducted anti-submarine training off the East Coast.

More to follow, as a tale is to be told of three naval combatants, and the intersection of their crews, is a story sparsely told. I will provide what I can to fill out the details of what happened.

Return often for the next few days, as the posts will provide the background to the setting.

Part II

Tracked back @: Yankee Sailor