SSN 680 Sea Stories
- Brad Williamson
- Sea Stories - 680
- Hits: 3029
This is a story about a cow, a cow that walked on water, the Jesus cow. And I'm not making this up. This is a no-s______!
It takes place just off the coast of South Korea...
You really have to love South Korea. I've been there many times since I left the Navy, and every visit has been exciting and interesting. Looking out over the night time brilliance of the Seoul city lights from the observation deck of the Seoul Tower, rivaling the Seattle Space Needle for majestic views. Scurrying along, crab like, 500 feet underground in the cramped invasion tunnels the North Koreans dug under the DMZ. Enjoying magnificent traditional Korean fare in restaurants hundreds of years old.
I've really come to love the place.
But all that was in the future back in 1985, when our Westpac adventures took us to the port of Chin Hae.
Sonar had been fighting some self-originated noise for days, if not weeks. It was killing our capability for the Spec Op, and the crew was feeling the pain. We scoured the boat for sound shorts. Days had been spent crawling around outboard everything, under the deck plates, and in the overhead, looking for this elusive noise problem.
9 comments- Brad Williamson
- Sea Stories - 680
- Hits: 3206
Anybody been sailing in San Francisco Bay lately? I don't mean Sunday afternoon, lazing under the sun, draped around the cockpit of your 47 foot Carver. I don't even mean scudding before a stiff breeze on your 14 foot Hobie Cat hanging on a lanyard with only one hull in the water.
I'm talking about the serious, no holds barred, get dirty, get wet, darn near get drowned kind of sailing, best done in a 300 foot pleasure liner with more shaft horsepower than you can talk about and a power plant you only refuel once every twelve years, if you get my drift. I'm talking about taking the Bates into Alameda and Mare Island Naval Shipyard. Serious sailing.
Every sailor knows that the approach to San Francisco Bay is one of the most dangerous in the world. The coastline and the wave action combine to produce truly horrendous sea states, with hard to predict wave action and treacherous currents. Rocks and shoals abound and eye your boat with salacious greed, ready to grind you up for a single mistake. Bridge crew have been lost here. Shipping traffic is nearly equal to the straits of Malacca, and the seascape and Golden Gate bridge combine to produce a relatively narrow channel. And that's when the weather is good!
- Sean Gawne
- Sea Stories - 680
- Hits: 3684
Submarines are very complicated machines, so the crews get a lot of training on how to operate them. Some of this training is unique to submarines, such as the submarine escape training at sub school. One thing a lot of people don’t realize is that nukes don’t usually get to attend sub school, so we missed out on a lot of the fun stuff. It’s also rather odd that most of the engineering department, with the exception of the officers and the auxiliary mechanics, never got the benefit of submarine school training. Perhaps this is why the submarine damage control trainer was invented.
The damage control trainer is a very special training simulator, designed to replicate the experience of flooding in a submarine. Flooding is an awful thing on any ship, but at least for most sailors there has always been the option of jumping overboard or getting into a lifeboat. Submariners don’t have that option. To make things worse, flooding on a submarine is a much more serious problem than on a surface ship.
- Albert Frankel
- Sea Stories - 680
- Hits: 2836
It was about three days into my first time underway on the "Billy B". I had only been in the Navy for about five months. I had not chosen a rate, (my recruiter said it was not important. Yeah, right.) so I was assigned to the boat directly out of sub school. Everything about the boat and being in the "REAL NAVY" was still quite a lot to handle and a little overwhelming to a new nub like me.
I was told Deck division and mess-cooking were extremely short-handed, and was welcomed with open arms by my fellow shipmates. You can imagine my surprise when my Division Officer, Lt. Coatsworth, told me that Deck division was responsible for retrieving the mail buoy and that he thought that I could handle it.
Being new on-board and eager to make a good impression I immediately asked what I had to do.
- Brad Williamson
- Sea Stories - 680
- Hits: 3511
Fall of 1982, and we have navigated the island strewn channel into the harbor at Sasebo, Japan. As we make our final turn into the port, we see our target, the USS TUSCALOOSA (LST 1187), anchored out, awaiting our arrival. The wind is brisk, but not too cold, and line handlers are mustering topside in preparation for mooring.
Communication on deck is difficult. Eight or ten news helicopters orbit the boat like a swarm of angry bees, the whine of their turbines adding to the noise level and the metaphor.
- Sean Gawne
- Sea Stories - 680
- Hits: 7220
There was a tradition at the Horse and Cow tavern in Vallejo that if you brought in your ship's brow banner on the first weekend in port, the bar would give you a free keg of beer. Of course, CDR Uplinger was former enlisted and knew of such things, so he made it clear that ANYONE who tried to steal the ship's brow banner would be court martialed, and any topside watch who allowed it to be stolen would also face punishment.
This would strike fear in the hearts of ordinary mortals but not submariners, (and all those who served with me during my four years on the Bates know well that I could hardly pass up such a challenge).
Read more: Welcome to the Horse and Cow Tavern in Mare Island!
- Brad Williamson
- Sea Stories - 680
- Hits: 3476
On the bridge of our Sturgeon-class stretch-hull, the USS WILLIAM H. BATES (SSN 680), the OOD and I enjoyed the last few minutes of fresh air as we headed out past Point Loma to our dive point. The tranquility was broken by a gaggle of midshipman peering up from the access trunk, asking permission to come to the bridge. One by one they made their way up the ladder, each proudly sporting their newly purchased ships ball caps. Soon the six of us were squeezed in tight as we enjoyed one of the best parts of the op.
Answering Ahead Standard into the wind, it didn’t come as a surprise when the OOD’s ball cap was blown overboard. A stream of invective followed his brief glance back at the blue and gold disappearing into the wake and I commented that it was typical of the wet-behind-the–ears middies to blatantly ignore naval tradition and continue to wear their brand new ball caps when the OOD had just lost his.
