AROUND THE WORLD
Submerged
This book has been brought to publication by the generous assistance of Marguerite and Gerry Lenfest.
Naval Institute Press
291 Wood Road
Annapolis, MD 21402
© 1962 by Edward L. Beach
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or utilized in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying and recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
First Bluejacket Books printing, 2001
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Beach, Edward Latimer, 1918–
Around the world submerged : the voyage of the Triton / Edward L. Beach,
p.cm.
Originally published: New York : Holt, Rinehart and Winston, 1962.
ISBN 978-1-61251-198-6
1. Triton (Submarine) 2. Voyages around the world. 3. Beach, Edward Latimer, 1918– I. Title.
VA65.T7B38 2001
910.4’5—dc21
00-052445
CONTENTS
IN GRATEFUL ACKNOWLEDGMENT
PROLOGUE
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
EPILOGUE
USS TRITON (SSR(N)586)
ADMINISTRATIVE REMARKS
About the Author
The man whose inspiration, genius, and perseverance created the power plant without which Triton’s voyage could not have been conceived has never been categorized as easy to deal with, nor is his high resolve entirely without problems for himself and others. But his single-minded determination, his idealism, his relentless insistence upon the right, and his love for the United States of America distinguish him as one of the great men of our time.
To Vice-Admiral H. G. Rickover, United States Navy, who made Triton possible, and without whom the fantastic power of the nuclear reaction would still, in my opinion, be harnessed only for atomic explosives, this book, without his permission, is very respectfully dedicated.
IN GRATEFUL
ACKNOWLEDGMENT
Ship’s Company During Submerged Circumnavigation
OFFICERS
LCDR Will Mont Adams, Jr.
Executive Officer
CDR James Ellis Stark, MC
Medical Officer
LCDR Robert Dean Fisher, SC
Supply Officer
LCDR Robert William Bulmer
Operations Officer
LT Donald Gene Fears
Engineer Officer
LT Robert Brodie III
Communications Officer
LT Robert Patrick McDonald
Reactor Control Officer
LT Tom Brobeck Thamm
Auxiliary Division Officer
LT George John Troffer
Electrical Officer
LT Curtis Barnett Shellman, Jr.
Machinery Division Officer
LT George Albert Sawyer, Jr.
Gunnery Officer
LT Richard Adams Harris
CIC/ECM Officer
LT Milton Robert Rubb
Electronics Officer
LT James Cahill Hay
Assistant A Division
MACH Phillip Brown Kinnie, Jr.
Assistant M Division
CHIEF PETTY OFFICERS
Chester Raymond Fitzjarrald,
Harry W. Hampson, ETCA
TMC Chief of the Ship
Herbert F. Hardman, EMCS
Alfred E. Abel, ENCA
Clarence M. Hathaway, Jr., ENCA
Hugh M. Bennett, Jr., ICC
Robert L. Jordan, ICC
Joseph H. Blair, Jr., EMCA
Jack R. Judd, ETCS
James J. DeGange, EMCA
Ralph A. Kennedy, ENCA
John F. Faerber, ENCA
James T. Lightner, ENCA
Loyd [sic] L. Garlock, FTC
Lynn S. Loveland, MMCA
William L. Green, SDCA
William J. Marshall, QMC
William R. Hadley, CTC
George W. McDaniel, SOCA
Walter H. O’Dell, EMCA
Fred Rotgers, ENC
Mack Parker, EMCA
Frank W. Snyder, ENC
Richard N. Peterson, ICCA
Joseph W. Walker, YNC
Bernard E. Pile, RDCS
Joseph E. Walsh, RMC
“L” “E” [sic] Poe, EMC
Hosie Washington, ENCA
* John R. Poole, RDCA
Roy J. Williams, Jr., HMC
Edwin C. Rauch, ENCS
Marion A. Windell, RMCA
Joseph Rosenblum, EMCS
ENLISTED
Walter J. Allen, ET1
Bertram Cutillo, DK3
Ronald Everett Almeida, RM2
Raymond R. Davis, EN1
Erland N. Alto, EN1
James Obie Dixon, Jr., YN2
Edward G. Arsenault, RM2
Martin F. Docker, ET1
Ramon D. Baney, CS2
Gary L. Dowrey, SOSSN
Robert F. Barrila, EN3
Ralph F. Droster, EN2
Horace H. Bates, EN2
Alan T. Ferdinandsen, IC3
Curtis K. Beacham, QM1
Richard R. Fickel, HM1
Lawrence W. Beckhaus, SO1
James A. Flaherty, RM1
James C. Bennett, RM2
Joseph R. Flasco, EN1
Nathan L. Blaede, ET1
Fred J. Foerster, FN
George M. Bloomingdale, EM1
René C. Freeze, RD1
David E. Boe, SN
Gerald W. Gallagher, IC1
John S. Boreczky, Jr., EN3
Bruce F. Gaudet, IC3
Robert U. Boylan, ETNSN
Adrian D. Gladd, HM1
Richard L. Brown, EM1
Edward R. Hadley, EN3
Earl E. Bruch, Jr., CS2
Carl C. Hall, QM3
Franklin D. Caldwell, EMFN
Lawrence C. Hankins, Jr., EN1
Edward C. Carbullido, SD2
Carlus G. Harris, EN2
Robert M. Carolus, EN1
Ralph W. Harris, EN2
Robert C. Carter, MM1
David L. Hartman, EN2
Leslie R. Chamberlin, Jr., CS3
Gene R. Hoke, IC1
Gerald J. Clark, RD3
William C. Holly, RD2
Charles E. Cleveland, EM1
Floyd W. Honeysette, QM2
Colvin R. Cochrane, MM1
Berten J. Huselton, IC1
Raymond J. Comeau, Jr., EM2
Wilmot A. Jones, TM2
William E. Constantine, FT1
Edward K. Kammer, EM1
William J. Crow, CS1
Fred Kenst, SN
Ronald D. Kettlehake, EMFN
Donald R. Quick, EN1
Richard R. Knorr, ENFN
Kenneth J. Remillard, SO1
Peter P. J. Kollar, GM1
Max L. Rose, SN
John F. Kuester, CS3
Richard M. Rowlands, TM1
Raymond R. Kuhn, Jr., FN
Jerry D. Saunders, RD2
Leonard F. Lehman, EM1
Russell K. Savage, QM2
Larry N. Mace, EM1
Paul K. Schulze, EN1
Ross S. MacGregor, FT2
&nb
sp; Thomas J. Schwartz, TM3
Edward J. Madden, EN2
Stanley L. Sieveking, TM1
Anton F. Madsen, QM3
Donald P. Singleton, EN3
Robert M. Maerkel, FN
Gordon E. Simpson, ET1
Harry A. Marenbach, MM1
James H. Smith, Jr., SN
Harold J. Marley, Jr., RM1
Peter F. Springer, EN1
Arlan F. Martin, EN3
Allen W. Steele, TM3
George W. Mather, ET1
Richard W. Steeley, EN3
Boyd L. McCombs, EN1
James A. Steinbauer, EN3
Douglas G. McIntyre, EN1
Gerald Royden Stott, ET1
William A. McKamey, SN
Leonard H. Strang, EN3
Robert R. Tambling, TM1
Charles F. Medrow II, ETN3
Joseph W. Tilenda, SN
Roger A. Miller, QM3
Jessie L. Vail, EM1
Philip P. Mortimer, Jr., EN2
James O. Ward, SD3
John Moulton, FA
William R. Welch, MM1
Larry E. Musselman, MM1
Henry H. Weygant, EN1
Bruce H. Nelson, FN
Robert W. Whitehouse, EN1
Ronald D. Nelson, EN1
Lamar “C” Williams, EN2
Rudolf P. Neustadter, IC3
William Williams, EN1
Raymond J. O’Brien, SK1
Audley R. Wilson, RD1
Harry Olsen, EN2
Donald R. Wilson, SD3
Charles S. Pawlowicz, ETRSN
John W. Wouldridge, RM1
Charles P. Peace, ET2
Gordon W. Yetter, EN1
Robert C. Perkins, Jr., RM2
Raymond F. Young, YNSN
Richard H. Phenicie, IC3
Robert C. Zane, YN2
Russell F. Pion, ET1
Herbert J. Zeller, EM1
George V. Putnam, TM2
Ernest O. Zimmerman, RD2
TECHNICAL AND SCIENTIFIC PERSONNEL
CDR Joseph B. Roberts, USNR, Office of Information, Navy Department
Earnest R. Meadows, PH1
Dr. Benjamin B. Weybrew, Psychologist, Naval Medical Research Laboratory, Submarine Base, New London
Mr. Michael Smalet, Geophysicist, USN Hydrographic Office
Mr. Gordon E. Wilkes, Civil Engineer, USN Hydrographic Office
Mr. Nicholas R. Mabry, Oceanographer, USN Hydrographic Office
Mr. Frank E. McConnell, Engineer, General Dynamics
Mr. Eldon E. Good, Inertial Guidance Division, Sperry
In the account of Triton’s voyage which follows, I have drawn freely upon the narrative section of the official report of our trip. When assembled, this report formed a tome about three inches thick. It contained many detailed tabulations and much succinctly presented raw information, and all the officers of the ship participated in its preparation. My contribution was the narrative section, which was made public when we arrived back in the United States.
Here, interspersed between the sections of the “Log” and forming the major portion of this book, are my own personal thoughts and observations as later reconstituted at my typewriter at home after all the excitement had died down.
All portions of this manuscript have been submitted to the Navy Department for clearance, and each chapter bears the stamp “no objection to publication on grounds of military security.” Over and above this, the entire responsibility for everything which appears in these pages obviously must be my own.
—Edward L. Beach
Captain, United States Navy
Mystic, Connecticut
* Did not complete voyage.
PROLOGUE
As a small boy, I had the good fortune of being a Navy Junior while living a settled life in a small community, without the frenetic shifts of locale inherent in a Service life. My father, as a Captain, after a long and rewarding career in the Navy, retired when I was four years old to accept the post of Professor of Military and Naval History at Stanford University. He had served the Navy thirty-seven-and-a-half years, and his sea duty had culminated with command of the American flagship in the European war zone during World War I.
During the course of his career, Dad had written thirteen books about naval life, most of them for teen-aged youths, plus several others aimed at a more mature audience. He had made a lifetime avocation of the study of history, with a natural inclination, of course, toward naval history; he had fought in three minor and two major wars (and was fond of saying that the minor ones were far more dangerous, so far as he personally was concerned, than the major). He had commanded one repair ship, two armored cruisers, and two battleships; I was born while he skippered the new “superdreadnaught” New York, in 1918.
My formative youth was spent in Palo Alto, California, where, after his years as a professor at Stanford, Father held the combined posts of City Clerk and Assessor. Among my childhood recollections were the stories Father used to tell about his experiences in the Philippines during and after the Spanish-American War, at the Naval Academy as a midshipman and later as an instructor, and particularly about that dreadful day in 1916 when his ship, the armored cruiser Memphis, was engulfed and destroyed by a tidal wave. The latter was my favorite yarn, and I never wearied of forcing my poor father to repeat all the details of the catastrophe which had blighted his career.
Father said that I would do well to study medicine, but I felt his heart wasn’t in it. My only thoughts were of going to the Naval Academy and becoming, like him, an officer in the US Navy.
The long-sought fulfillment of my ambitions came in 1935. So great was my anticipation I couldn’t understand why Mother was crying when my parents took me to the train station, nor the meaning behind Father’s faraway look. I was then just seventeen years old.
Four years at the Naval Academy had more ups than downs and were most satisfying, but when I graduated on the first of June, 1939, it was with the sad knowledge that Father was slipping away from me. His long and interesting letters had become increasingly difficult to read. The thoughts in them of late had begun to wander, and I noticed that more and more he relived the past, particularly the loss of his old Memphis and the crew members he had had to watch drown.
Father used to say that the place for a young officer was in a big ship; so upon graduation from Annapolis, I applied for the ten thousand ton cruiser Chester. I had been aboard about two months when the war in Europe broke out. Because of a surname beginning early in the alphabet I found myself transferred to the Lea, destroyer number 118.
The Lea was tiny, one-tenth the displacement of the Chester, and she had been “permanently” retired to mothballs some years before. The brass plate on her varnished wooden mast revealed her age as being the same as my own. There were only five officers in the Lea, and I was the most junior. Later on, when the “Third” was transferred, I automatically rose to the high eminence of Fourth, but this, under the circumstances, had little effect on my unofficial title of “George.”
“George,” the traditional name of the most junior officer on board, always served as the ship’s commissary officer, communications officer, ship’s service officer, torpedo officer, gunnery officer, and first lieutenant. In addition, I had to insert a three-year stack of corrections into the ship’s allotment of classified books and pamphlets—a horrendous job—was in charge of the landing party (luckily it seldom got an opportunity to go ashore), stood two four-hour watches a day on the bridge while under way, and while in port stood a twenty-four-hour “day’s duty” every third day (except for a short period when I had the duty every other day).
There was also a Destroyer Officers Qualification Course of some twenty lengthy assignments, which I was required to complete within a year’s time; and the Bureau of Navigation, evidently afraid that Ensigns might neglect their leisure time reading, had decided that we should submit
a two thousand word book report each month.
The ship also had a skipper, an engineer, and an executive officer, but I never had time to discover what any of them did.
After two years on the Lea, in September, 1941, a message arrived directing me to submarine school in New London for instruction in submarine duty. By this time, I loved that slender four-stacked race horse of a destroyer, and didn’t want to leave; but my skipper, an old submariner himself, would not send the protest I drafted, so off I went.
The course of instruction at the submarine school, originally six months long, had been curtailed to three by the war emergency, and on December 20, 1941,1 was one of fifty-one graduates who heard the officer in charge of the school deliver a graduation address. In the course of it he said, “Many of you will command your own ships before this war is over.”
None of us believed we could achieve such greatness, but a little later we all noted the other side of the coin, when the first of our group went to eternity in the shattered submarine to which he had reported only a couple of weeks before.
My first submarine was USS Trigger (SS237), then under construction at the Navy Yard, Mare Island, California. During my two years on the Lea, I had finally bequeathed the “George” spot to someone else, but in the Trigger I found myself with that familiar title again. As before, I was greeted by a huge stack of uncorrected confidential and secret publications. The similarity, however, ended here; for Trigger, a first-line ship of war, was designed to operate in an entirely new and unfamiliar medium. The amount of highly technical equipment crammed into her sturdy hull amazed me.