COMSUBBBS
Posts: 2561
Location: Rapid City, SD | Subject: RE: How'd they do this?
From "Submarine Commander" by Paul Schratz:
"Since the time the AP photographer in Houston had pleaded to get a shot of the steep angle on surfacing. I had been trying to contrive an opportunity. More than camera equipment was required. We needed an observing ship with sonar gear to track us accurately and coordinate the action of both ships. Things happened so quickly in those wild surfacings that rapid and efficient two-way communications were vital. Off Manila, sonar conditions were excellent, and Queenfish thought she had an adequate camera aboard. Ned Beach in Amberjack off Key West had surfaced at forty-five degree angles with no difficulty. We had done thirty-five to fifty degrees many times. I thought we could do considerably better. Obviously it required tremendous concentration, intensive training, and careful preparation of the ship. I had nightmares of a torpedo sliding from the racks and bouncing around the room. The three-thousand-pound air pressure in the flask almost as dangerous as the warhead. They were cinched down with double and triple straps, and every piece of gear in the ship was just as tightly secured.
The ship's test depth was four hundred feet, but we had operated as deep as six hundred feet on several occasions. For the big angle, I decided to start at five hundred feet. The first sharp up angle would throw the stern deep, and I didn't want the aft compartments, the weakest on the ship, to go below six hundred feet. We were making eighteen knots. The diving officer commenced blowing all the forward tanks until he could no longer hold the ship on an even keel, then threw the bow and stern planes on full rise and hung on. It took only microseconds to break the surface; we came out at seventy-two degrees. A tool in the overhead dropped through two compartments before hitting the deck. The only unanticipated casualty involved the gyroscope. Steep angles sometimes spilled mercury from the gryo; this happened so fast there was no time for a spill, but the sudden change in the axis of rotation confused the gyro enough that it almost tumbled. The compass card jumped about forty-five degrees, and the helmsman, trying to regain his course, almost put us on a collision course with Queenfish.
As we emerged, two-thirds of the ship--two hundred feet of its length--came clear of the water, then the ship fell back to about periscope depth, coming up the second time on an even keel. I was standing at the forward periscope and suddenly found myself lying on the after one. Most of the men were standing in their bunks. Things were a bit sticky for a few moments. The only "official" photography was from a 16-mm movie camera. The sight bordered on the unbelievable, but because it had no telephoto lens, the largest still print Kodak Hawaii could make was little over postcard size. Only in recent years could laser techniques finally produce a suitable enlargement ."
Captain Schratz called this chapter of his book, "Dipsydoodling on Government Time."
Edited by Corabelle 2007-11-11 1:13 PM
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