The following story is based on the experiences of Engineman Second Class Donald Kirkwood. An enlisted man since graduating from high school, Don joined the Navy and received a great deal of training that would prepare him for a life after the Navy. In this story, he has not yet reached the rank of Engineman Second Class; he is a throttleman on the USS Sailfish. He works in the Auxiliary Gang, specializing in air-conditioning/refrigeration. Growing up on a farm in western Pennsylvania, he was never prepared for the experiences of a lifetime that the Navy would offer him. What follows in one of those memorable experiences of hurricane Helene, one of the worst in North Carolina’s recorded history with winds of 125 mph.
‘What a boring day,’ Don thought. Stuck on watch again in the engine room all by himself, he busied himself with the small tasks as throttleman on the USS Sailfish, a submarine in the United States Navy. He let out a yawn and stretched his arms for a minute. ‘I wonder where we are?’ he though. He furrowed his brow, doing some quick calculations… ‘I guess we must be somewhere off of North Carolina by now.’ He strolled around the cramped engine room, pausing every now and then to check some of the gauges and indicators. Everything looked normal, so he walked back to his station. Running a submarine’s two engines certainly isn’t an easy task, but with the oilers to help you, and the training Don had, he managed quite well. He could tell by the subtle rolling back and forth of the ship that they were chugging along at half speed. Not much to do now but wait until his shift was over so he could get some much appreciated rest and grab a quick meal before his next shift came around. He checked the engine status and then returned to daydreaming. He stared at the cream colored walls, which he considered much more pleasant than the fore engine room’s color, some kind of mediocre blue. At least it wasn’t the cold, sterile Navy blue that the outside was painted.
He sat back in a small chair and listened to the soft rumble of the engines coming up through the floor. The room was basically soundproof, but you still got some of the vibrations and sound from the engines though the noise was essentially filtered out. It was such cramped room though. A soup can does not make for a comfortable place to spend your time.
He leaned over to check an engine speed gauge and caught the smell of his uniform. It smelled heavily of diesel fuel, just like everything else on the ship. But since he was around it everyday, all the time, the smell went unnoticed. That is of course, until he went ashore on leave; then people cleared out of his way pretty quickly because of the residual smell he carried on his uniform. It made getting a seat at a diner pretty easy. He chuckled a bit after remembering the last time he tried to get into a restaurant smelling pretty ripe.
He stood up to check the dials again, but surprisingly lost his footing and sank back into the chair. It was then that he realized that the ship was heaving back and for pretty badly. He hadn’t noticed it until just then, but now that he was aware of it he could definitely see that this was no ordinary rough weather. He checked the scope, and the listing was pretty bad. The ship had already tilted far beyond what was normal rough weather. Something bad was certainly coming their way…
The door behind him flew open. He spun around as his oilier burst in.
“We’re caught in a storm a little of Cape Hatteras. It’s pretty bad. Looks like it might be a hurricane. We’re going to have to stay on the surface and ride this one out. Just thought you’d like to know because your shift doesn’t end until later”
“Thanks,” Don said. “I think this is going to be a bad one”
“Yeah,” the oiler continued, “I have a bad felling about this”… He shut the door and walked away. The ship was definitely tilting at much sharper angles now as the waves beat it relentlessly against the surface.
He stumbled back to the scope. The readings showed that the sub was taking 45° rolls, lying to one side, snapping back up and then rolling the other way. The stifling heat of the enclosed engine room was starting to build up. He walked over to the inspection cover for the main induction to bring cool air to the engines and pried the cover off it. Cool air rushed out of the induction vent and created some much needed air circulation in the hot, cramped room. He went back to the control station and made sure that the engines were still running properly, no easy feat with the ship rolling back and forth the way it was. The big radar sub was being pounded by the relentless forces of nature, literally being shaken to the very bolts which held her together. The ship shuddered again as another wave hit the side. He wished the sub could dive, but he knew it couldn’t dive unless they wanted to be vulnerable to a well-placed wave at the exact point when it had no equilibrium. If the ship were hit then, it would go spinning crazily through the water. So they had no choice, but to ride it out on the surface. It was going to be one of those really long nights...
Later, after the storm had subsided and life returned to normal, Don went to walk around the ship, maybe visit one of his buddies in the command tower. As he was walking along the cramped walkways, several people ran past him with repair equipment. Intrigued, he followed them. He was surprised to see that when he turned the corner, he was greeted by the beautiful morning sky. There was a large gaping hole where the large steel door that went in from the deck level up to the bridge used to be. It had been held to the superstructure of the ship’s sail by 8 interlocking steel bars, all of which were either missing or bent horribly out of shape. The door was nowhere to be found, and they would probably never see it again. He shook his head in disbelief as he turned the other way and began to walk back down the hallway. That was the second time in the last 24 hours where he was reminded of the awesome and terribly destructive power of Mother Nature.