SSN 604 Sea Stories
- Ralph Stroede
- Sea Stories - 604
- Hits: 290
Another memory is Haddog; you may remember the incident.
It seems that an enterprising crew member (some said it was one of the QM gang) used some light green paper, a few colored pens, a Polaroid camera and a laminating machine to gin up a shipyard military personnel photo ID for a stray dog that spent time about the shipyard.
The dog's name on the ID was Haddog.
All thought is was great fun to see the pooch coming and going with the ID wagging from his collar, with the guards saluting, etc.; all but the CO and XO, that it (or at least they couldn't admit it in public).
I guess there arose quite a furor over shipyard security. After all, what if some mutt-faced spy look-alike or poor, hapless Haddog had crept past the guards on all four, and used the ID to steal top military secrets?
Anyone who looks enough like Haddog's photo to pass security checks deserves all the stolen secrets he can get, I suppose.
Or maybe the security guards need the help. It was said that they actually verified that the dog looked like the photo every time he came into the yard. So it must have been ok.
{Lest the author upset anyone, he dutifully acknowledges the importance of security, and hopes that this light-hearted look at a long-ago incident does not reflect poorly on him.]
No comments- Ralph Stroede
- Sea Stories - 604
- Hits: 314
In March 1984, I was Commanding Officer, USS HADDO (SSN 604).
We were scheduled to made a 1500 arrival at the Royal Canadian Naval Base in Esquimalt, B.C.
Fearing intrusion of fog, so prevalent in this part of the world, I had sprinted ahead to ensure an on-time arrival. The weather remained beautiful all day and thus I arrived several hours early. Taking advantage of a sunny spot, we coasted to a stop and watched the festivities of a local sailing regatta.
I became concerned when one of the smaller boats broke out of the pack and took dead aim at my bow. As the vessel closed, it became clear that the crew was a lone, white-haired lady intent on close inspection of our strange looking ship. From my vantage point atop the sail I watched her as she carefully circled the submarine at fairly close quarters, returning to a position close to my bow. I feared she might be one of a vocal minority in that part of the world who protested the visit of nuclear powered submarines.
Deliberately she cut out into the wind, stopped her progress and raised a small hand-held megaphone to her lips.
I was prepared for the worst. I was in command of an awesome warship, with thousands of propulsion horsepower on call, armed to the teeth with weapons of unspeakable destruct power, yet cringed at the prospects of a confrontation with a lone grandmother.
My relief was palpable when her words merely reflected the duties of one mariner to another: "Can I offer you a tow?"
She obviously mistook my idleness for a casualty. I politely declined, advising her that I was merely awaiting an appointment with a local pilot.
She waved and sailed off to rejoin her companions - with a great tale of the one that got away.
~ CAPT R.D. Raaz, USN
