In The Navy (On the Boat), Part 26

There was this one test box on board that was in the middle of the central berthing compartment, that we (the FTs) had to maintain. It was called a Tritium monitor.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tritium Scroll down to the bit about Nuclear Weapons…

We had to do this test every couple weeks (in port or at sea) where we took a tin cup, peed in it and placed it in the Tritium Monitor. The concept was, any leaking Tritium on board would show up in our urine and thus be detected. Part of the test was to put these crystals into the cup (which made a horrible smelling smoke). I think the smoke would be what set off the monitor if levels were too high. Yes, I like being a guinea pig sir!

Taco again amazed me with an act of sheer stupidity. One afternoon when I was off watch, I was leaving the Galley and heading forward, which takes you right past the Doc’s office. Also in the Doc’s office is the 3” Launcher. This is a mini torpedo tube that you use to shoot out flares, dye markers, Bathermogragh sensors (these sink to the bottom and record temperature and salinity as they sink, and report it back to the Boat via a wire) and Countermeasures.

As I passed the office, I saw it was empty besides Taco and another TM (the 3” Launcher was their equipment). They were wrestling the breech door to the Launcher. This thing can be taken off completely, is made of solid brass and weighs about 25 pounds. I asked Taco , “What’s up, you need a hand?” He just snorted “No”, without turning around.

So I watched these guys and it seemed like the Breech door was stuck bad. The other guy asked Taco if the air pressure was vented and Taco kept pointing to the indicator on the wall that said to him it was. So he wrestled at this for a few minutes and then started banging the handle on the breech door with something heavy. It started to move after a few hits and he kept it up. I guess it was instinct, everyone besides the two in the room felt something bad was about to happen and backed away from the ruckus.

Once Taco had the breech fully free, it shot straight into his chest with the force of 700 pounds of air pressure behind it. The strike was enough to send Taco hurtling across the small office and into the bulkhead on the other side of the hall, outside. He hit hard, right in front of me. The noise from the air escaping was so loud (like a car tire exploding), everyone came running to see what happened.

Taco slumped to the floor unconscious and I went into the Galley and called for the Doc to report to his office over the 1MC. He showed up quick too. The Doc checked to see if he was breathing and he was. We told him what happened and then the Doc unbuttoned Taco’s shirt to check for damage. He had a pulse too, so he wasn’t too far gone. A lucky break if ever I had seen one. By all means, he should be dead.

Taco was restricted to the bunk and was given pain meds. He had bruised ribs and maybe some breaks. It wasn’t enough to call in a Helivac (Helicopter Evacuation), which was good. Those are precarious at best. Choppers and Submarines don’t mix well at all.

I looked at the 3” Launcher control panel later and found the lights on the indicator that show the tube is pressurized were burned out. Taco had ignored the gauge on the wall that showed tube pressure, or thought it was faulty. A tough lesson to learn.

As we neared home port, we surfaced and had a “Field Day”. Sounds life fun, right? That is the term for scrubbing the Boat top to bottom. You want it pretty when you get in to port; you never know who might drop in.

It was kind of a joke, all I had to do was sweep forward berthing and wipe up any spills that might be on the tiled deck. Not too tough. I spent the rest of the time packing up my Sea Bag and if anyone came in, I would look busy cleaning any of the many pipes and cable runs that were attached to the ceiling. You would usually wind up shooting the shit with whoever was cleaning the space next to yours. The Chiefs liked to pipe in music when we had a Field Day. It was usually late 60’s stuff, like Jim Croce or The Mamas and The Papas. It was ok, I grew up on that stuff.

After Field day was secured everyone lined up for a last meal before we set the Maneuvering Watch. This time the line snaked through the middle aft berthing area. Sheppard must have done something stupid because as I went past his bunk, someone had lifted the lid of it with him on top and secured the lid locking bar (which holds it up so you can get to your stuff under the mattress. This is a guy on the mattress and the mattress cradle below, lifts up on hinges; http://www.jamd.com/search?assettype=g&assetid=3092183&text=%2522submarine+bunk%2522

Sheppard was freaking out and had pulled a small knife and was blindly and wildly swinging it at everyone going by. Most of the guys were laughing, but I yelled at him that he was going to hurt someone, then I laughed. I kept going and moved towards the Galley. One of the Nukes had a blowup love doll that he was tossing around. It never left the berthing area though. People get strange right before you get back home from a long run.

Later, one of the Chiefs went and let Sheppard out. The Chief had to yell at the kid to put the knife away or he would stay there for the next week. I think he got written up for pulling the knife too.

Later that day, the Blowup Doll appeared in the officer’s mess deck seated in the XO’s chair. A handful of us got to see it sitting there before it was noticed and only heard through the grapevine later, that the XO was only moderately pissed at the prank.