John Holland, inventor of the modern day submarine, is pictured above testing the USS Holland before officially turning it over to the United States Navy in New London Connecticut on October 12, 1900
Still air, high overcast and a smoky blue colored sea that on this day is as smooth as glass makes for a perfect autumn day along the New England coastline. Distinguished guests and naval officers gather to witness the commissioning of a first of kind 53.8 foot, 64 ton vessel with a displacement of just 287 tons. Small in size as naval warships go, this October 12, 1900 New London, CT audience knows full well that what is taking place on this crisp sunless fall day in the first year of the twentieth century is little understood yet revolutionary in its application. Dockside in New London is a vessel that only Jules Verne could be expected to understand and appreciate. The tiny ship sits motionless in the cold still blue-black water of the Atlantic ocean, its deck barely protruding above the waterline, the hatch open as if inviting wary guests to descend into the bowels of the boat and see the future. With the exception of John Holland, the vessel’s inventor (an Irishman who had immigrated to America almost 30 years earlier), his partner Simon Lake and members of the New Jersey based Crescent Shipyard who had constructed the vessel, few at the gathering were able to grasp the full implication to warfare at sea that this vessel would portend. Purchased for $150,000 by the U.S. Navy and commissioned the USS Holland, the vessel would later be assigned the designation SS-1—but even in light of this it would be very difficult for the uninformed to understand the full purpose or mission of this vessel without first witnessing a practical demonstration. Crammed below the steel deck and outer hull of this tiny vessel were fuel tanks, an electric motor, a gasoline engine, compressed air tanks complete with multiple compressors, miles of pipes, plumbing and a myriad of valves. This combination of equipment, crew and emerging technology comprised America’s first submarine. Underway, the USS Holland required a crew of seven: one officer and six enlisted men; it traveled at a speed of just 6 knots. Within a decade, U.S. submarine builders, like their French counterparts, replaced the Otto-type gasoline engine with diesel for use when operating on the surface and recharging batteries. Also, newer ships would be refitted with a more powerful electric engine for running underwater. By the start of World War I the new K Class Submarine, a much larger and more capable vessel requiring 2 officers and 26 enlisted men, took to the sea. Able to operate on the surface at 14 knots, the 153.6 foot 392 ton displacement vessel proved to be lethal, but the submarines of World War I suffered a reputation that would haunt the service for decades to come. Because of its low grey silhouette, stubby nose, lack of ventilation and poor hygiene facilities, it was not long before the moniker“pig boats” became synonymous with submarines. Temperatures often exceeding 100 degrees inside early subs during patrols filled the air in the cramped vessels with a stench that permeated every fiber. Living and working quarters inside the vessels were often overwhelmed with a super heated combination of stale air, diesel, motor oil and chlorine fumes from the massive batteries–plus the body odor of men who had been days if not weeks without a bath or a change of clothes. The stench dared to come on board. Throughout the First World War the evolution of the submarine continued, and by the end of hostilities in 1919 the American navy was operating several improved versions of the K Class including the L, M, N and O type submarines, but submarine service had much to overcome. In addition to their ships being referred to as “pig boats,” the service itself had an ominous nickname: the “coffin service.” Between 1929 and 1939 the peacetime service lost 700 U.S. sailors in 20 submarine accidents. It was clear that a way of rescuing sailors from submarines stranded on the bottom of the ocean was needed. The Navy Department during the last stages of World War I was making plans for a “fleet submarine”–an underwater vessel capable of 20 knots when traveling on the surface, enabling it to keep pace with the battle fleet. Development of rescue equipment was left to a few dedicated submariners with foresight, talent and ambition.
TRAPPED: In October of 1937 the keel of the SS-192, a fleet capable submarine measuring 310.6 feet with a 27.1 foot beam and a displacement of 1,457 tons, was laid in the Portsmouth NH Shipyard. Armed with 8 torpedo tubes, one 3 inch deck gun and 2 fifty caliber machine guns, this new fleet sub was potentially a formidable weapon. Named the USS Squalus she was launched September 14, 1938 with a regular crew of 55: five officers and fifty enlisted men. Early on the morning of May 12, 1939 the Squalus arrived off the Isle of Shoals and began a series of 18 successful test dives, and the ship performed magnificently; on board was a crew of 56 and 2 civilians. On May 13, 1939 the ship’s Captain, Lt. Oliver F. Naquin, ordered a final test dive at 0740. After submerging, the main engine air induction valve failed and water poured into the after engine room and the sub sank 240 feet to the bottom of the ocean killing the 26 men (including 1 civilian) who were trapped in the aft portion of the sub. However 32 crew members and 1 civilian were still alive in the forward section waiting for help; no one on board expected help would or could arrive in time to save them. No rescue from a submarine at that depth had ever succeeded; no fully tested or proven equipment existed. However, a navy commander named Charles B. Momsen had developed an underwater escape device referred to as the “Momsen Lung” and he had worked on a diving bell in conjunction with a Lt. Commander Allan McCann. It was hoped the diving bell could be used to extract stranded sailors from crippled submarines. After arriving at the site of the Squalus, Commander Momsen took charge of the navy divers and Commander McCann supervised the use of the untested but crucial rescue chamber/ diving bell that had been dispatched from Washington DC. Tangled cables created anxious moments and exhaustion plagued the rescue crew as the trapped sailors were being slowly overcome by the effects of chlorine gas released from the ship’s battery compartment. Shortly after midnight on the 25th of May 1939 the rescue of the crew was completed and 33 men who initially doubted that they could or would be rescued became the first survivors of a submarine accident of this magnitude.
AT WAR AGAIN: As the world once again became enveloped in war, fleet subs had a new problem: they were plagued with torpedoes that misfired. Commander Momsen initiated tests of the torpedoes in Hawaii and, with a little help from Albert Einstein working from his home in New Jersey, they found and solved the problem: a faulty firing pin. The new Gato, Balao and Tench Class submarine with their superior air conditioning and ventilation along with better crew accommodations and facilities for hygiene gave greater respectability to life on board U.S.submarines and the term “pig boat” slowly disappeared. Also the reliability and ruggedness of this new class of sub signaled the end of the term “coffin service” and ushered in the more apt and appropriate designation: the “Silent Service.” These new subs would soon be manned by a new kind of skipper–men who were aggressive, intelligent and intuitively able to command. This new brand of skipper armed with aggressive tactics such as daytime submerged attacks followed by nighttime surface attacks, proved to be too much for the Japanese in the battle to control the shipping lanes of the Pacific. However, the victories of the Silent Service in World War II came at a heavy cost. 20% of the 16,000 men serving in submarines (or 375 officers and 3,131 enlisted men) lost their lives–the highest loss rate of any U.S. Service. It is said that the 52 submarines lost in World War II and the crews who manned them shall remain always on “Eternal Patrol.”
MAKING FRIENDS: Sun Trust Bank Market Chairman and CEO for North West Florida Dave Ramsay, an avid FSU fan, accompanied by FSU President Emeritus Sandy D’Alemberte and Vice President Beverly Spencer, made their way to Miami for the much anticipated NCAA National Football Championship game which was held on January 3, 2001. While there they met the Captain of the USS Florida and the group quickly became friends. Dave Ramsay invited the Captain to join the group in the Sun Trust Bank Sky Box overlooking the Orange Bowl Stadium. The offer was accepted and a relationship of mutual respect and interest began to grow. Out of this initial meeting, an invitation was offered to the Captain and several crew members to meet with the then Florida Governor Jeb Bush and to attend a football game at Doak Campbell Stadium, home of Bobby Bowden football field. In recognition of the significance of the ship and to honor their service, crew members were introduced to FSU fans during the game, strengthening the ties between the ship and FSU that had taken root. Through Dave Ramsay, Hal LaBatt, a part-time Bay Point resident, also met the USS Florida’s Captain John Litherland and soon the planning of a PR visit to the ship that would include a one-day trip out to (and under!) the Atlantic Ocean began.
USS FLORIDA being pushed out to sea from her home in Port Canaveral
ARMED AND DEADLY: The USS Florida (SSGN 728) is a very special vessel uniquely tied to its Florida roots in that it makes subtle use of FSU colors and has on prominent display within the converted boomer a picture of FSU coach Bobby Bowden and a Seminole football team helmet. Perhaps this is meant to be a gentle and familiar reminder to these underwater warriors as well as confirmation to our enemies that the best defense may be a potent offense and that the USS Florida is not to be trifled with. It is lethal, deadly and capable of operating alone. In retrospect even the most visionary among those present at the commissioning ceremony of the USS Holland in October of 1900 could not have imagined that before them on that day was the harbinger of the most sophisticated and powerful underwater weapons platform ever to exist–with the ability of roaming the world’s oceans out of sight, without a sound, and capable of obliterating any target on the planet without ever leaving a hint as to its position, existence, point of origin or destination. 560 feet in length, a displacement of 18,750 tons, a hull diameter of 42 feet and a crew compliment of 16 Officers, 19 Chief Petty officers and 125 men with ranks of E-6 and below, the USS Florida’s recent conversion to a Tactical Trident makes it perfectly suited for engagement in the war on terror. The ship can receive and deliver a compliment of 66 Special Operation forces (mostly Navy Seals) to any place in the world and back them up with the ferocity of what may seem to any enemy to be the equivalent of an entire battle group. One of only four Ohio Class Boomers converted to the new SSGN configuration, USS Florida is silent, stealthy and deadly. If it chooses to go on offense it can rain down with pinpoint
accuracy 154 Tomahawk cruise missiles from an underwater hideaway while employing a lethal contingency of 66 Special Operation Forces anywhere
in the world, making this stealth warrior as unique as it is fearsome. Unlike submarines of past generations where only one crew per submarine was required, nuclear subs require two crews designated Blue or Gold–allowing the sub to remain on duty while one of the crews has an opportunity to rest and recuperate.
Hal LaBatt is quick to express how impressed he is with his friend Blue Crew Captain John Litherland, pointing out that John has earned degrees in Oceanography, Physics and Mathematics from the University of Washington in
Seattle, and adding that John is also friendly, serious and proud to show off the ship and introduce its crew. Hal is also impressed by how professional this young crew is in spite of the fact that the average age of a USS Florida crew member is only 23 years old.
Hal was thrilled to be part of this lucky group of 13 who made up the Public Relations tour Dave Ramsay arranged. What also made this group particularly unusual was that it included 4 women. Because of the cramped quarters on the submarine there is no way to maintain separate quarters so all permanent crew members are male. More than 100 years have passed since the USS Holland was commissioned. The USS Florida is more than 75 times the displacement of the old USS Holland and still space on submarines is at a premium. Hal observed that even the space between launch silos is used for exercise equipment so the men can stay in shape as they work and live underwater; clearly no space is wasted.
BAY POINTER GOES UNDERWATER : Assembling aboard the nuclear powered USS Florida moored in Port Canaveral, the visiting group of 13 was checked out and approved for the trip before departure. They were asked if anyone had a claustrophobia problem– those who thought they might were given a pill. At 9 a.m. the USS Florida began to make its way out to sea and once underway the group was allowed, two at a time, to make their way up to the conning tower to visit the Captain. There was very little space on the bridge but the visit and the view was impressive. Once they reached the area of the Gulf Stream the USS Florida submerged and remained underwater for about seven hours. During this time the visitors were allowed to observe and ask questions of the crew. It was very quiet on board as the vessel operated submerged propelled by a single screw estimated by some to be 27 feet in diameter. This monstrous vessel seemed to move silently, effortlessly and without resistance through the water. Gone were the noisy, smelly, dirty diesel and electric engine combinations used to provide power to submarines during the first half of the 20th century. In its place was a nuclear reactor that superheated water into steam using a fission process that propelled the ship, submerged or surfaced. Submarines whose time below water was once measured in hours have been replaced by submarines who now measure time below water in months. Also there is a quality of life on subs now that once was not thought possible. The consensus of Hal and the other visitors was that even though every bit of space was in use, they never felt crowded. With the exception of hatchways through bulkheads, which were meant to separate compartments, it was possible to move around the sub standing and moving in a normal manner. Hal said they were not allowed to take pictures of certain parts of the inside but it was impressive to watch the crew go about their business. Later in the day the onboard dinner was steak and lobster served 5-star restaurant style and the overall care given to the shipboard guests was superb and very much appreciated. It was a trip that thirteen fortunate men and women will remember with great affection and fondness, and it further strengthens ties between those who inhabit its namesake and those who crew the USS Florida. Since Hal LaBatt and the other members of the group visited the converted Boomer known as USS Florida, the ship has deployed to Diego Garcia in the Indian Ocean. Once there, what their mission will be is unknown—but you can be sure the USS Florida and its Blue or Gold crew is ready, willing and able to carry out whatever mission it’s assigned. Hal and the group hope the crew will be available for the home coming football game. Go Noles and a safe journey for the crew of the USS Florida! ■