COMEDY AND TRAGEDY IN SUBMARINE DEVELOPMENT
One of the first queries which laymen usually direct at the submarine
navigator is, "Are you not afraid that the boat will never come up?"
and other variants on the same theme. Most people are surprised and
many are very sceptical when they are informed that there is no
sensation at all connected with the act of going under water in a boat
except that due to one's own imagination. The fact is that if one were
going down inside the vessel in some of the modern submarines he could
not readily tell whether the vessel was running on the surface or
navigating in a submerged condition.
I remember the time when it was first decided to give a public
exhibition of the _Argonaut_ in 1897. Various newspapers were permitted
to send their representatives to make a submerged trip in the vessel.
Quite a large number of newspaper men were present, and among the
reporters was one young lady representing a New York newspaper. This
being the first time that the newspaper fraternity had been given the
opportunity to make a submarine trip, speculation ran rife as to the
outcome of the venture. So great a number of reporters came that all
could not be permitted to board the vessel. Lots were therefore cast
as to who should go. The lady claimed the privilege of her sex, and
all agreed that she should be one of the party. When the lots were
drawn, one of those who had drawn a lucky number suddenly recalled
that he was afflicted with a very diseased heart, and he did not feel
it wise to go. Another discovered that his life insurance had just
expired, and he gave up his opportunity to a friend. Finally the party
was made up and the boat started away from the dock. They were all
invited down into the cabin, where a general conversation ensued as to
the possibilities of submarine navigation proving a success, upon the
sensation of going under water, and other related subjects; I had given
the signal to submerge, in the meantime, several minutes before they
had finished visiting with each other. Soon one of them asked me when I
expected to submerge. They were all greatly surprised when I informed
them that we had already been under water for several minutes, and they
would hardly believe it until I took them into the conning tower, where
they could see the dark green of the water through the glass of the
eye-ports. Two of the party promptly discovered that they had each a
bottle of champagne concealed about their persons. It was their opinion
that it was time to drink to the health of the lady and to the success
of the _Argonaut_. After we had rummaged around and finally found an
old rusty tin cup, this was done.
All first experiences, however, have not been so pleasant as that of
the _Argonaut's_ trial. The submarine _Hunley_ (page 150) suffocated
and drowned four different crews during her brief career. Twice she was
found standing on end with her bow stuck in the mud in the bottom of
the river, with a crew of nine men dead in her fore part, where they
had been thrown when she dived to the bottom. In these two instances
the men were suffocated, due to lack of air, as no water was found in
the boat when she was raised. The gradual exhaustion of the air and
final unconsciousness which overtook these brave volunteers can only be
left to the imagination.
When experimenting with the _Argonaut_, I received a visit from the
late Col. Charles H. Hasker, of Richmond, Va. He had volunteered as one
of the party to try the _Hunley_ after she had suffocated her second
crew. On the trial, for which Mr. Hasker volunteered, she started away
from the dock in tow of the gunboat _Ettawan_ by a line thrown over the
hatch combing. She had been trimmed down so that she had very little
freeboard, and as she gained headway she started to "shear," due to her
peculiar flatiron-shaped bow. Lieutenant Payne, who was in command,
attempted to throw the towline off the hatch combing, but got caught
in the bight of the line. On his struggle to free himself he knocked
a prop from under the tiller of the horizontal diving rudder, which
had been set to hold the bow up. As soon as the prop was knocked out
the tiller dropped down and inclined the horizontal rudder to dive,
and the vessel dove with her hatches open. Lieutenant Payne freed
himself, and Colonel Hasker managed to get partly out of one of the
hatches before the vessel sank, but the inrushing force of the water
closed the hatch door, which caught him by the calf of his leg, and he
was carried with the vessel to the bottom in forty-two feet of water.
However, he maintained his presence of mind, and when the vessel became
full it balanced the pressure so that he could release himself from the
hatch cover. He was a good swimmer and escaped to the surface. Two men
escaped from the other hatch. The other five members of the crew were
drowned in the vessel.
Notwithstanding that this was the third time she had sunk and killed a
number of men, she was again raised and a crew of nine other brave men
was found to man her. Under command of Lieutenant Dixon, on the night
of February 17, 1864, she was brought alongside of the United States
battleship _Housatonic_ and sank her, but Lieutenant Dixon and his crew
went down with the _Hunley_ at the same time. Thus, in the various
attempts to operate this vessel in a submerged condition, a total of
thirty-two lives were lost.
The New Orleans submarine boat was also built by the Confederates
during the Civil War. A friend who took the photograph of this vessel
told me the following story as related to him by a Southern gentleman
who was familiar with the history of the boat. It appears that this
submarine was the conception of a wealthy planter who owned a number
of slaves. He thought that it would add considerable interest to the
occasion of her launching if, when the vessel left the ways, she should
disappear beneath the waves and make a short run beneath the surface
before coming up. So he took two of his most intelligent slaves and
instructed them how to hold the tiller when the vessel slid down the
ways, and in which way to turn the propeller for a time after she began
to lose her launched speed. He told them when they got ready to come
up they should push the tiller down and the vessel would come to the
surface to be towed ashore.
A great crowd assembled to see this novel launching. "When things
were all ready," said the old Southern gentleman, "sure enough, them
two niggers got into the boat and shut down the hatches; and do you
know, suh, that at that time them niggers was worth a thousand
dollars apiece." Well, it seems that the boat slid down the ways and
disappeared under the water just as had been planned. The crowd waited
expectantly, but the vessel did not reappear. Eventually they got into
boats and put out hooks and grappling lines, but she could not be
found. The designer of the craft stated as his opinion that "he might
have known better than to trust them pesky niggers anyway," and he was
willing to bet that they had taken the opportunity to steal the vessel
and run away. He asserted that very likely they would take the boat up
North and give it to the Yankees, and that they could expect to hear of
the "Yanks" using it to blow up some of their own (Confederate) ships.
Her disappearance remained a mystery for a great many years--until long
after the war closed, in fact, and the incident had been forgotten.
Years afterward, during some dredging operations to deepen the harbor,
the dredge buckets one day got hold of something they could not lift. A
diver was sent down to investigate, and he reported that there was some
metal object buried in the mud which looked like a steam boiler. They
set to work to raise this, and putting chains around it they lifted it
on to the wharf. The old gentleman, in closing the narrative, remarked,
"And do you know, suh, when they opened the hatch them two blamed
niggers was still in thar, but they warn't wuth a damned cent."
One amusing experience that I had occurred in the Chesapeake Bay in
1898, a few miles below the Potomac River. We were bound from Baltimore
to Hampton Roads, and a part of the journey was made on the bottom
of the bay. We found this exceedingly interesting, as we could sit
in the divers' compartment and view, through the open divers' door,
the various kinds of bottom we were passing over, rake up oysters and
clams, catch crabs with a crab net, and amuse ourselves in trying to
spear fish.
The _Argonaut_ at this time had a double pipe mast fifty feet in
height, through one of which we got air to run our engines. The other
was to provide for the exhaust. We carried a red flag on top of this
mast as a warning to surface vessels to keep clear. One afternoon we
had been submerged about four hours, running on the bottom in depths
varying from twenty-five to forty-five feet; night coming on, we
decided to come up and seek a harbor. When we came to the surface we
noticed a "bugeye" (a small schooner) "hove to" about fifty yards to
the leeward. I blew the centre tank, which brought our conning tower
up out of the water, opened the hatch, and hailed the skipper of the
bugeye to ask our location and the nearest harbor. He did not wait to
answer, but as soon as I yelled he squared away "wing and wing" for
the shore. As there was a stiff breeze blowing, it did not take him
long to make it, and he ran his vessel right up on the sandy beach,
where we saw him and another man--who composed the crew--clamber out
over the bow and start to run inland as fast as they could go, leaving
their boat without so much as lowering their sails. We finally located
ourselves as just north of the mouth of the Rappahannock River, and
saw that there was a good harbor very near, so we put in there for the
night. After supper, as we were in need of fresh provisions, we went
ashore and learned that there was a store a couple of miles down the
peninsula. We walked down there and found the store full of natives who
were obviously curious as to our identity and business. Finally the
storekeeper gathered up his courage and asked us who we were. When he
learned that we were down on an experimental cruise in the submarine
boat _Argonaut_, he burst into laughter and told us that we had solved
a mystery which had stirred up the entire community. He then explained
that just about dark one of his neighbors, who never had been known
to drink and whose reputation for veracity was excellent, had rushed
into the store, followed by his mate. Both were pale from fright, and
sank on the porch completely exhausted. They then related a weird tale
of seeing a red flag moving down the bay _against the current_ on a
buoy. When they went alongside of it they heard a "puff-puff" like
a locomotive--that was the exhaust from our engine coming up out of
the pipe--and, furthermore, they stated that they had smelt sulphur
distinctly. Just then, they claimed, the buoy commenced to rise up and
a smokestack--our conning tower--came up out of the water and "out
stepped the devil"--myself, who at that time had on a rather brilliant
red cap. Then they had "moseyed" for shore as fast as they could go.
The storekeeper said that they had put the honorable captain to bed,
and implied that he would be "right smart mad" when he learned how
he had deceived himself. We went back to our boat and got an early
start in the morning, as we did not know but that the "guying" of his
neighbors might "rile" the captain considerably--and these Virginians
are usually pretty good rifle shots.
One of the greatest dangers in submarine navigation is that of being
run down by surface vessels when the submarine comes to the surface
after a deep submergence. I mean by a deep submergence when the vessel
goes down so far that the water covers the top of her periscope and
the commander gets out of touch with surface vessels. All submarine
commanders have probably had narrow escapes from this danger; it is one
of the chances that go with the business. I myself have had several
very close calls. The first was with the _Protector_ manoeuvring in
rough weather in Long Island Sound off Bridgeport in 1903. The weather
was exceedingly rough, the wind blowing a halfgale and blowing the
spume from the white-caps into spray. Some of our directors were in
a large towboat at anchor and we were manoeuvring in their vicinity,
running back and forth, submerging, etc., so that they might observe
how steadily she could run in a rough sea. Finally, upon submerging,
we observed a sloop in distress; part of her rigging had been carried
away, and she was half full of water. The sea had broken the cabin
windows and she was on the verge of sinking. We observed this through
the periscope, so we came up and got a line to her and took her into
Bridgeport. There were several young men aboard her, and when they
first saw us standing on our conning tower they thought we also had
been wrecked and were on top of a buoy.
As the _Protector_ had functioned beautifully and we had in addition
saved a shipwrecked crew, I felt quite proud of the day's performance,
and was greatly surprised, therefore, when I reported to the directors,
who had preceded us into the harbor, to have one of them "call me down"
for taking such a foolhardy chance in submerging just in front of the
steamer _Bridgeport_. He was astonished when I told him that I had
never seen the steamer, and then he informed me that I had submerged
just under her bow, and as she was going very fast they all expected
us to be hit. The white-caps and spray had prevented us from seeing the
steamer, as our periscope was a short one and only gave us intermittent
views in the rough water. I was curious to learn whether the captain
of the steamer had seen us, but I was told by him that he had not.
The rough water had prevented the captain from seeing the wake of our
periscope, just as it had made it impossible for us to catch a sight of
his vessel.
At another time of close escape I was in the channel leading from the
Gulf of Finland into Cronstadt, Russia.
We were requested to conduct some manoeuvres for the purpose of
familiarizing the Russian officers and crew with the method of handling
the boat. Admiral Rodjevensky's fleet was outfitting off Cronstadt,
preparing to start for the Orient. As the officers of the battle
squadron had never seen a submarine in operation, we were requested
to conduct our manoeuvres in their vicinity. One of the high Russian
admirals, whom I afterward met at the officers' club in Cronstadt, said
to me: "Mr. Lake, I do not like your submarine boat. One can never tell
where it is going to bob up, and I think if you were my enemy I should
slip my anchor and run." After manoeuvring around the fleet at anchor
we took a run out in the channel. Captain Alexander Gadd, the officer
who was to command the _Protector_, was in the sighting hood. Our
periscope had gone "blind" because one of the crew did not make up a
joint properly. Water had entered and dropped on the lower prism, which
destroyed our ability to see. We were anxious, however, to continue
our manoeuvres, and Captain Gadd had volunteered to "con" the vessel
from the sighting hood and give us our steering directions. We were
thus able to make submergences of short duration. In leaving the port
we appeared to have a clear passageway down the channel. After running
for a few minutes we brought the sighting hood above the surface,
upon which Captain Gadd became very much excited and cried out in
German--which I had no difficulty in understanding--that a big ship was
coming right toward us. I was puzzled to know what to do, so I pulled
the commander away from the sighting hood, got a look myself, and
discovered a big white ship headed directly for us. The only thing to
do under the circumstances was to blow the centre tank, give the signal
to back up, and to blow our whistle, as there was hardly sufficient
time to turn out of our course. Blowing the centre tank relieved us
very quickly of sufficient water to bring the conning tower above the
surface. Fortunately we were observed, and both vessels reversed and
went full speed astern, thus preventing a collision which only could
have been disastrous to us, because, as there was not sufficient depth
of water in the channel to permit the large ship to pass over us, the
small boat would have been crushed like an egg-shell. By looking at the
chart I saw that we had sufficient water on either side of the main
channel to carry on our work of instructing the crew, so I instructed
the quartermaster, in English, to change his course. Captain Gadd, not
understanding English, was not aware that I had changed the course, and
I did not know that mines had been planted for the defense of Cronstadt
and Admiral Rodjevensky's fleet, so the next time we came to the
surface Captain Gadd once more became very much excited, finally making
me understand that we were in a mine field. It seems that the Russians
feared the Japanese might by hook or crook, during the night or at
a time of fog, which at that time of the year occurred frequently,
get hold of some vessel, equip her with torpedoes, and make a raid
on the fleet at anchor. Consequently they had mined all except the
principal channel, which could be watched. We immediately stopped the
_Protector_, blew tanks, and proceeded with caution back to the main
channel and returned to Cronstadt. I felt that we had had sufficient
manoeuvres for that day at least.
Another experience which came very close to a tragedy was brought
about by the spirit of mischief of one of the trial officers while
conducting the official trials of the _Protector_ in the Gulf of
Finland. One of the trial conditions set by the Russian Government
was that we were to be able to run the _Protector_ under her engine
with her decks submerged and conning tower awash, I standing in the
open hatchway with the _Protector_ running under these conditions,
ready for instant submergence, her conning tower being held above the
surface by setting her hydroplanes up. By pulling the hatch cover down
and inclining the hydroplanes downward the vessel could be almost
instantly submerged--submergence not occupying over fifteen seconds. I
had so much confidence in the safety of the _Protector_ running in this
condition that I did not hesitate to leave the depth-control mechanism
for considerable periods of time.
During this official trial in the Gulf of Finland we ran through a
school of small fish, and, leaving the hydroplane control gear, I went
out upon the deck of the conning tower and watched the fish, which
could be plainly seen as the _Protector_ passed through them. At this
time there was about three feet of water over the decks, and the
deck of the conning tower was about a foot or eighteen inches out of
the water. All at once the _Protector_ started to go down. I jumped
down inside the conning tower, pulling the hatch after me, and I am
free to confess that my hair stood on end. I then observed that the
_Protector_ had gone back to her normal condition, and saw at the
same time that the senior Russian officer, a very tall man who had to
stand in a stooping position in the conning tower, was shaking with
laughter. Captain Gadd then explained to me that the other officer--I
shall not mention his name, because he is now a high admiral--had "set"
the hydroplanes a little down for the purpose of seeing if he could
frighten me. He frightened me all right, and I assure you that I never
ran the _Protector_ afterward in that condition, because I came to
the conclusion that, while it might be possible to make a submarine
fool-proof, one could never make reasonable calculations which would
eliminate danger from the actions of the practical joker. It was only
a few weeks after this incident that I read the account of the A-8,
one of the diving type of boats in the British Navy, making the fatal
dive when running on the surface with the hatch open, even though she
had, according to the testimony of the officer, who was standing on the
top of the conning tower at the time she went down--and drowned her
crew--as much as six or eight tons reserve of buoyancy.
Some of the early boats of the diving type were fitted with fixed
periscopes through which one could see in one direction only, and
that straight ahead, and with a limited field of vision. In order to
get a complete view of the horizon it was therefore necessary for the
commander of a vessel equipped in this way to turn the boat completely
around. This was the cause of the first serious accident and loss of
life in the British submarines of the A type. The A-1, running in the
English Channel with her periscope extended above the surface, did
not see a steamer following her at a speed exceeding her own; the
lookout of the steamer did not see the periscope, and ran the A-1
down, drowning her entire crew. The foolishness of having a periscope
that could see in one direction only was demonstrated by some of the
officers in the Austrian Navy. Our company had built the first two
boats for the Austrian Government, U-1 and U-2. Another type of boat
had been built later which had only a fixed periscope of the type
described. One day, when this submarine was running along with her
periscope above the surface, which gave her commander no vision back of
him, some officers approached in a speedy little launch and left their
cards tied to the periscope without the knowledge of the commander of
the submerged vessel. This demonstrated perfectly that it is essential,
both in war and peace times, for the commander of the submarine to know
what is going on in his vicinity on the surface. With the noise of
machinery running it was difficult in the early boats for the commander
to tell whether there was any other power boat in the vicinity of the
submarine. That fact led to the practice of running mostly with the
periscope above the surface, and eventually to the introduction of two
periscopes, one to con the course of the ship and the other to keep
watch of the surrounding water to see that other ships do not approach
the submarine unawares. That is now the usual practice in peace-time
manoeuvres.
At Hampton Roads, on one occasion, after a submarine run, we came up
under a small launch and picked her up bodily on the deck. We had not
seen the boat until we heard her bump against the conning tower and
heard some of the ladies scream. We submerged quickly and lowered them
into the water again. Another time we came up under a large barge,
but all the damage incurred was a broken flagstaff. The best mode of
procedure at such times is to bring the vessel to rest while submerged
and stop all machinery, then listen for the sound of the machinery of
surface vessels. These noises can be heard for a considerable distance
under water. If no sound is heard it is then safe to come up. Even
in this case there is some possibility of coming up under or just in
front of a sailing vessel. One has to take some chances, and I do not
consider this taking any greater chance than is taken by the navigator
of a surface vessel in running in a fog or in a snow storm.
The question of air supply was at one time one of the most difficult
problems to solve on paper with which early experimenters with
submarines had to contend. There was no exception in my case. I thought
it would be possible to remain submerged only a short time unless I
provided some sort of apparatus to extract the carbonic acid gas and
restore oxygen to the air after breathing and exhaling the air in an
enclosed space like a submerged vessel. I took up the question with
various physicians and with a professor of physiology at Johns Hopkins
University, and, according to their information and text-books, it
would be a very difficult matter to carry sufficient air to remain
submerged without change of air except for a very short time. Their
text-books stated the quantity of free air that should be allowed per
individual. This varied from fifteen hundred to three thousand cubic
feet of air per individual per hour. It would be impossible to provide
this amount of air in a submarine. What it was essential to discover
was _how little_ air a man could live on without suffering ill effects.
I then built a box containing twenty-seven cubic feet of air space. I
entered this and was hermetically sealed within it. At fifteen-minute
intervals I lighted matches to note how freely they would burn. At
the expiration of three-quarters of an hour the matches still burned
brilliantly at the top of the box, but went out when lowered to about
the level of my waist. This indicated that about one-half of the oxygen
had been consumed and converted into carbonic acid gas. I was surprised
to find how distinctly the line was drawn between the air containing
oxygen and that containing the heavier carbonic acid gas. I concluded
from this experiment that from fifteen to twenty cubic feet of air per
individual per hour was sufficient to maintain life for short periods
of time without injury.
On completing the _Argonaut_ in 1897 we amplified these experiments,
five men remaining hermetically sealed in the _Argonaut_ for a period
of five hours without admitting any air from our air storage tanks,
and later on in the _Protector_ eight men remained submerged for
twenty-four hours, no fresh air being admitted during the first twenty
hours. As the volume of air space in the _Protector_ was about three
thousand cubic feet, this averaged about eighteen cubic feet per man
per hour. Without the definite knowledge of my previous box experiment
it is very doubtful if the crew would have consented to remain
submerged so long without renewing the air supply, so great is the
effect of imagination.
In our first test to determine a practical time of submergence in
1897 we had been submerged for nearly two hours when I noticed some
members of the crew showing signs of distress. After a time they got
together in the after part of the boat and appointed a spokesman, who
came to me and asked if I had not noticed that breathing had become
very difficult. They urged that we should go up immediately. By this
time two of the men were breathing with evident exertion, and beads
of perspiration were on their faces. I told them they were suffering
from imagination, and explained my experiment with the box. I then
took a candle and proved to them that it burned freely in all parts
of the boat. We measured the height of the candle flame at the floor
of the boat and found it one and five-eighths inches high. In the
twenty-four hours' test on the _Protector_ the men became frightened
in the same way, but after an explanation had been made and the candle
demonstration had been shown them they lost their fear and in a few
minutes all were breathing as normally as ever.
I have always had some little sympathy for the sensations or fears
which those without a knowledge of natural physics might experience on
going down into the water; but I have had little sympathy for those
who by their education should know and understand the principles of
submarine navigation, when operating with a properly designed boat with
an experienced crew.
Now, one of the features which the _Argonaut_ possessed, which was new
in its application to submarine boats at that time, was the use of a
diving compartment and air-lock connected with the main hull of the
vessel, which would permit divers to leave the vessel when submerged
by opening a door in the bottom of this diving compartment after
first filling the compartment with compressed air corresponding to the
pressure of the water outside of the vessel, which varies in accordance
with the depth of submergence.
Every schoolboy is taught the principle of the diving bell, which can
be illustrated by the use of a tumbler or glass. If a tumbler is turned
upside down and forced into water, the water will not rise to fill the
tumbler, owing to the fact that the air, being the lighter, will remain
in the tumbler and the water will simply rise, compressing the air to
the same pressure per square inch as the pressure surrounding it. Now
if you push a tumbler down into the water a distance of thirty-four
feet the tumbler would be about one-half full of water and one-half
full of air, which corresponds to one atmosphere in pressure. Now if an
additional tumbler full of air was compressed to the same pressure and
released in that tumbler it would force the water out, and there would
be a double volume, or two atmospheres of air, in the tumbler, or just
twice what there would be on the surface and under normal atmospheric
pressure. This is the principle on which the diving compartment in the
Lake type boat operates, it being only necessary to admit air into
the diving compartment until the pressure equals the outside water
pressure; then a door opening outwardly from the bottom may be opened
to permit ready egress or ingress, and so long as the air pressure is
maintained no water will rise in the boat.
A professor of physics in the University of Pennsylvania visited the
_Argonaut_ in Baltimore during some early experiments with her, and
in discussing the features of the diving compartment with which, from
his position as a professor of natural physics, he should have been
entirely familiar, expressed some doubt as to its practicability.
He said he understood the theory of it all right, but thought there
might be some difficulty in carrying it out in a practical way as I
had explained. I invited him into the diving compartment and told
him that I would submerge the boat and open the door for him for his
benefit, so that he could explain to his students that he had actually
seen it done. He turned pale and said, "Oh, no; I would not put you
to that trouble for the world"; but by that time I had the heavy iron
door closed between the diving compartment and the main hull, and had
already started to raise the pressure of the air in the compartment,
and assured him that it was not the least trouble in the world; on the
contrary, it was a great pleasure. By this time beads of perspiration
were standing on his face. When one undergoes air pressure for the
first time considerable pain is ofttimes experienced in the ears, due
to the pressure on the Eustachian tubes and ear-drums not becoming
equalized. To equalize this pressure it is necessary for divers or
those undergoing pressure to go through the movement of swallowing,
which has a tendency to relieve the unequal pressure and stop the pain.
I noticed that the professor was experiencing quite a little pain and
consequently told him to swallow, and it was really amusing to see the
rapidity with which he worked his "Adam's apple" up and down. He then
asked if there was any danger. I answered him that there was none,
except to those who were troubled with heart-disease. He immediately
put his hand up over his heart and said, "Well, my heart is quite
seriously affected," but by that time we had secured the necessary
pressure to enable me to open the diving door at the bottom, so I
released the "locking dogs" and allowed the door to open, and when he
saw the water did not come in, his face cleared and he said, "Well, you
know I never would have believed it if I had not seen it," and then he
added that he would not have missed seeing it for the world.
Another interesting incident in connection with undergoing pressure
occurred while at Hampton Roads, Va. One day I received a visit from
a professor of mathematics and his wife at the Hampton Institute,
each of whom held a professorship in the college. They stated that
the _Argonaut_ had been discussed before the faculty and that they
would like very much to go down in her and see the diving door opened,
which I was very glad to show them. Just previous to going into the
diving compartment Professor S---- explained to me that his wife was
deaf in one ear, that she had been under a physician's care for about
two years, and he wanted to know if undergoing pressure was likely to
have an injurious effect upon her. Not being a physician or knowing
what might occur, I advised against her undergoing pressure; but she
insisted on going into the compartment, promising that if she felt any
ill effect from the air pressure she would tell me and I could let
her out. I was reluctant to have her go in, and when we entered the
compartment I allowed the air to come in very slowly, in the meantime
giving a general description of the vessel, and occupying as long a
time in the procedure as possible. I noticed almost at once that she
was in pain. Although she turned her back to me, I could tell by her
clenched jaws and hands that she was probably suffering agony. I then
stopped the pressure and suggested to the professor that he had better
let his wife go out, but through clenched teeth she still protested,
"No, go ahead; I can stand it!" Finally we got the pressure on and
opened the door, but, while the professor seemed delighted, his wife
made no remark. She simply stood with her hands clenched and I was
afraid she was going to faint. Then all at once she screamed; but
immediately after her face lighted up with a smile and she exclaimed,
"It is all gone!" When she came out of the compartment, after the
experiment was over, I noticed her put her hand up to one ear, and
she said to her husband, "Do you know, I can hear as plainly out of
that ear as I ever could!" About a year afterward I saw Professor
S---- and he told me that apparently the experiment had cured his
wife of deafness where physicians had failed to help her; that to
date it had never returned, and that she could hear as well as she
had ever heard. In discussing this matter with an ear specialist some
time afterward, he explained to me that the lady had probably been
suffering with a disease which caused the small bones connected with
the ear-drum to freeze fast, so that the ear-drum did not vibrate.
He stated that it is a very common cause of deafness and can seldom
be cured; that the bringing of the uneven pressure on the Eustachian
tube or other parts had broken away the secretion which had cemented
these small bones together and permitted the ear-drum to vibrate as it
should, and probably that was the only way in which she could have been
helped. I am publishing this incident in the hope that it may lead to
the construction of scientific apparatus for the cure of deafness in
cases where the deafness is caused by trouble similar to that of the
professor's wife.
After our experiments with the _Argonaut_ in the Chesapeake Bay and on
the Atlantic coast, she was enlarged and otherwise improved and in the
winter of 1899 I brought her to Bridgeport, Connecticut, which offered
excellent harbor conveniences and deep water, as well as providing the
necessary manufacturing facilities for continuing my experimental work.
While there the request was made of me to let some of the newspaper
people and some prominent men of the town witness her trials; I
therefore invited them to take a trip out into the Sound. I remember
that we extended in all twenty-eight invitations to the Mayor, to the
press, and to some other prominent citizens, expecting that perhaps
three or four of the number would accept. Very much to my surprise,
twenty-nine appeared, and only one of those who had received the
invitation failed to come, while two others brought their friends with
them. Among the number was John J. Fisher, at that time quite a noted
singer for the American Graphophone Company. I had planned to cook and
serve a dinner for the party on board, and we intended to be back about
two o'clock in the afternoon, but when we got out on the bottom of the
Sound all the different members of the party wanted to see the bottom,
so we travelled out over some oyster beds and clam beds and I opened
the diving door and let the party all see the bottom of the Sound and
pick up clams and "jingle" shells, in depths varying from twenty-four
to thirty-odd feet, while running along the bottom. The air-lock was
small and we could take only two at a time through it into the diving
compartment. In the meantime a meal had been cooked for the others and
served. Mr. Fisher amused the company by singing "Rocked in the Cradle
of the Deep" and other songs appropriate to the occasion.
We did not arrive at Bridgeport until after four o'clock, and then
found the wharf black with an excited populace, largely composed of
friends of those who had taken the trip. Tugboats had been engaged,
and the editor of one of the afternoon papers gave me a very severe
"dressing down" for having kept the party out so long, as the whole
city was excited and every one feared that we had been lost. The
afternoon editions of the papers had all been held up awaiting our
return, and the editor of the paper in question informed me that they
were just telegraphing New York for a wrecking outfit to come and raise
us, as they had sent a tugboat out and the captain had reported that we
were submerged off Stratford Point Light and that our red flag, which
extended from the top of the mast, was above water, but that we were
not moving at that time and hence they thought that all hands must have
perished.
Working under water from a submarine boat is very interesting work. The
_Argonaut_ was built with the idea of demonstrating the practicability
of conducting explorations under water, locating and recovering beds
of shellfish, in addition to locating and recovering wrecks and their
cargoes. This line of work is the most interesting of the submarine
work in which I have been engaged, and offers, in my judgment, great
opportunities for the benefit of the human race. A submarine boat is
a rather expensive craft, however, for conducting such operations,
and there are certain disadvantages in operating around wrecks in
a submarine without any surface connections, as there is always a
possibility of the vessel becoming entangled in the wreckage of the
sunken ship. I remember in one case we had located a sunken wreck and
had gone down alongside of her with the _Argonaut_. This sunken wreck
had an overhanging guard and was quite strongly built. The tide carried
the _Argonaut_ up against the side of the sunken wreck, and after our
divers had come in and made their report in regard to her we attempted
to come up to the surface, but the Argonaut could not come up, because
the current had carried her in under the guard, and it was necessary
for us to wait until the tide turned to enable us to get away from the
obstruction.
At another time we were operating alongside of a wreck in which we were
demonstrating the practicability of removing cargo from the sunken
wreck to a small experimental cargo or freight-carrying submarine.
This freight-carrying submarine was practically a tank, and was built
purely for demonstrating purposes. It was nine feet in diameter and
twenty-five feet long, with conical ends (see illustration, page 278).
It had wheels underneath so that it could be towed on the bottom by
the _Argonaut_. The _Argonaut_ had gone down alongside of a sunken
wreck loaded with coal, with the freight submarine alongside opposite
to the wreck. The _Argonaut_ had a centrifugal wrecking pump mounted
on her deck, driven by a shaft extending through a stuffing box, and
to fill the little cargo-carrying submarine it was necessary for the
diver only to place the suction pipe connected with the wrecking pump
into the sunken coal barge and the discharge pipe into the hatch of the
cargo submarine, start the pump, and transfer the coal from the sunken
wreck to the cargo-carrying submarine. We made several successful
demonstrations of this, and actually transferred fifteen tons of coal
from the sunken wreck to the cargo submarine with a six-inch pump in
nine minutes. It was then necessary for the diver only to close the
hatch of the freight-carrying submarine, admitting compressed air
into the interior which blew the water out through check valves in
the bottom of the freight submarine, and then the freight submarine
would come to the surface with her cargo, which could be towed into
port on the surface by surface tugboats. One day, when down on the
bottom repeating this experiment, the diver came back into the diving
compartment and said that he wanted the _Argonaut_ moved ahead about
twenty feet. The divers, having become familiar with the operation at
this time, were a little careless. There were three of us in the diving
compartment at the time, and it was "up to me" to go back into the
machinery compartment and move the boat forward twenty feet; we could
tell the distance by the revolutions of her wheels over the bottom. I
told them to close the bottom diving door, and when I left the diving
compartment they were in the act of doing so. As I looked back through
the lookout window in the air-lock door I saw that the diver had taken
off his helmet and was smoking his pipe--this being the first thing a
diver always wants to do when coming out of the water. I then started
to move the boat, assuming that the diving door was closed, but the
boat did not move. Having been at rest there for some time, I assumed
that she had probably taken in through a leaky valve some additional
water, and I decided that it was necessary to lighten her somewhat, so
I called on the telephone and asked them if everything was all right
in the diving compartment and they replied that it was. I then pumped
and tried her again; still she did not move, so I pumped out a little
more from the forward end of the boat for the purpose of lightening her
burden some more. All at once she left the bottom with a rapid rush and
ascended to the surface. There was something which held her down, I do
not know what it was, but it was not released until we had given her a
partial buoyancy of perhaps two or three tons. I submerged her again
quickly and went back through the air-lock into the diving compartment
and then observed that the diver was taking off his diving suit; he
was pale and appeared to be very much excited. I asked his helper, who
was laughing, what the matter was. To this question the diver himself
replied, "I will tell you a funny story when we get ashore." The tender
then explained to me that they had not closed the door entirely, but
had left it open about four inches, and when the boat rose, the air,
rushing out of the compartment with a noise like a thousand locomotive
whistles, had scared Captain S---- half to death. The tender had
been with me in the diving compartment once before when a similar
accident occurred and consequently he was used to it. As soon as we got
alongside of the dock the diver referred to jumped ashore and said,
"The funny story I am going to tell you is this: I will never set foot
in your d---- boat again."
Another amusing situation occurred on the _Argonaut_ which might
have proved very serious. After we had completed our experiments
with the _Argonaut_ and started to build the _Protector_, not having
any immediate use for her, the _Argonaut_ was anchored in the river
off the place where we were conducting our building operations. Our
engineer, W----, received a visit one day from a friend of his who
had visited Bridgeport on his wedding trip and had left his wife in
the depot between trains while he ran up to see his old friend, our
chief engineer. The chief took him out on board the _Argonaut_ to show
him through, and in explaining the boat to him the two men went into
the diving compartment. Now the Argonaut had been shut up for some
months, but the chief found that there was still sufficient air in the
air tanks to enable him to admit the air into the diving compartment
and show his friend how the door could be opened. The door, which
opened downward, was quite heavy, weighing something over four hundred
pounds, and was raised by block and tackle. He got the air pressure
on all right and opened the door; the boat was near the bottom, and
when the door opened downward the lower end of it settled into the
mud. In attempting to lift it again the rope, which had become rotten,
due to dampness, broke, and consequently he could not lift the door.
In the meantime the tide was falling and the diving door was forced
farther into the mud. As no one at the works knew that the chief had
gone on board the _Argonaut_, when night came everybody went home and
it was not until eleven o'clock that night that the watchman went down
to the end of the pier and heard some one tapping on the _Argonaut_.
Thinking this somewhat strange, he got into a boat and rowed out
alongside. He still heard the tapping at regular intervals, and was
astonished to see a small boat alongside; then he struck the _Argonaut_
with his oar and immediately got a rapid tattoo in response. Feeling
sure now that somebody in distress must be down in the _Argonaut_, he
got a lantern, went down inside the boat and forward to the diving
compartment. There, on the other side of the lookout window, he saw
the face of the engineer. The chief had made the mistake of closing
the forward air-lock door, so that when he got the pressure on in the
diving compartment and the diving door open he could not close it
again. There was no way for him to relieve the pressure and open the
air-lock door without flooding the whole boat; while, had he closed
the first or inner door he could have gone through into the air-lock,
closing and securing the forward door behind him. He could then have
released the air from the air-lock and escaped, in the meantime leaving
the pressure on in the diver's compartment and the divers' door open.
When the watchman appeared the chief wrote a note and put it up to the
window, instructing the watchman to close the inner air-lock door. This
was done, and then he and his friend got out. It was nearly midnight
when they were released; and, feeling a natural curiosity in the
circumstances, I asked the chief if his friend found his bride still
waiting for him at the station. He replied that after they had managed
to get out his visitor would not even speak to him, and that he had
never heard from him since the occurrence.
I have described above how I ran grave risks while navigating in
Russian waters, and it was in connection with the construction and
delivery of these same boats for the Russian Government that I met with
still other interesting experiences.
[Illustration: THE LAUNCHING OF THE "PROTECTOR"
Built in Bridgeport, Connecticut, in 1901-1902. Sent to Vladivostock,
Russia, during the Russian-Japanese war, and was the only Russian
submarine in full commission during that war. She was the forerunner
of the German U type of boat, with her large flat deck, light-weight
watertight superstructure and hydroplane control.]
At the time of the Russo-Japanese War the _Protector_ was being tried
out in Long Island Sound, and representatives of both warring countries
sent officers to witness her perform and to make propositions for her
purchase. Russia secured her, however, and it then became a problem
to get her out of the country without evading the neutrality laws. We
discovered that we were being watched by spies, and had reason to
believe that if it became known that Russia had purchased her, and
that we were planning to take her out of the country, an injunction
would be secured against us. We had secured high legal advice that
if she were shipped incomplete we would not be evading the United
States laws, but that she might, notwithstanding this precaution, be
captured on the high seas or held in this country by injunction as
contraband. We therefore removed her battery and sent it to New York,
ostensibly for repairs; from there it was later shipped to Russia
_via_ steamer. The agents of the Russian Government then chartered the
steamer _Fortuna_ to carry a cargo of coal from Norfolk, Va., to Libau,
Russia. While loading coal, heavy timbers to form a cradle on the deck
were also shipped on board, and while coming up the coast this cradle
was assembled and the _Fortuna's_ decks strengthened sufficiently
to carry the _Protector_, which had been stripped down to about one
hundred and thirty tons by the removal of her battery. The plan was
that the _Fortuna_ should come into Sandy Hook at midnight on Saturday
and proceed to Prince's Bay, a cove back of Staten Island. There the
_Protector_ was to be picked up by the powerful floating derrick,
the _Monarch_, and the _Fortuna_, with the _Protector_ on her deck,
was then to get outside of Sandy Hook before daylight and pass the
three-mile limit on Sunday morning. None of my crew was in the secret
that an effort was to be made to get the _Protector_ out of the country
before legal proceedings could be taken to prevent her going; and, as
she had no batteries on board, they were much surprised to be informed
on Saturday--the morning of the day set to make the attempt--that they
were to bring their suitcases and a change of clothing with them, as
I was going to give the _Protector_ a trial under her engines alone
and we might be away a day or two. When we left Bridgeport I headed
the _Protector_ away from New York, and our men thought we were bound
for Newport, but as soon as we got out of sight of the shore, in which
we were assisted by a fog, I ran over under the Long Island shore
and headed for New York. We remained in hiding during the day and
passed through Hell Gate, the entrance into the East River, at about
nine o'clock, and reached Prince's Bay according to schedule; but
the _Fortuna_ did not appear until eight o'clock on Sunday morning.
Fortunately for the enterprise, a very heavy rainstorm came up and
shut out all view of us from the shore until the _Protector_ had been
loaded and was out to sea. Before she sailed I called my crew together
and told them that the _Protector_ had been sold to a foreign country,
and that, although I could not tell them to whom or to what port she
was bound, I should like some of them to go with me to assist me in
training the foreign crew to operate her. Every man volunteered and
was anxious to go, so I selected those I wanted and they took their
suitcases on board the _Fortuna_. It was seven years before some of
these men returned to America.
The _Protector_ was covered with canvas and she was sighted but once on
her way across. To prevent suspicion I returned to Bridgeport for a few
days and then took the fast steamer _Kaiser Wilhelm II_ to Cherbourg
and was met by the Russian Ambassador in Paris, who gave me Russian
passports under the assumed name of Elwood Simons, as the Russian
Government did not wish it to become known that it had purchased the
_Protector_ or that the builder was coming to Russia to instruct their
officers and men in the use of submarines. This travelling about
under an assumed name brought about some amusing complications and
experiences later.
I arrived at Libau by train the morning the _Fortuna_ and _Protector_
arrived off that port, but the government had decided to send her on to
Cronstadt, the principal naval station and defense of St. Petersburg,
now called Petrograd, so orders were given accordingly. On the way up
the Baltic the coverings over the _Protector_ had been removed, and
a Russian torpedo boat, seeing her, made off at full speed, soon to
return with another torpedo boat and a larger gunboat and beginning
to fire blank shots for the _Fortuna_ to stop. The captain did not
stop quickly enough, and then they fired solid shot just in front of
the _Fortuna's_ bow and she was forced to stop. It developed that one
of the officers had recognized the _Protector_ from having seen the
pictures of her, but, not knowing that she had been bought by his own
government, suspected that the Japanese Government had purchased her,
and that she would probably be launched somewhere in the Baltic and
attack the Russian fleet. He then sent an armed prize crew on board the
_Fortuna_ to take her into Cronstadt as a prize--which incidentally was
where she was bound, anyhow.
On arriving at Cronstadt we were met by a number of officers of
the Russian Navy, among whom were Captain Becklemechief and Chief
Constructor Bubonoff, who were the joint designers of the Russian
submarine _Delphine_, which had recently been completed. While
sitting in the _Fortuna's_ cabin exchanging congratulations upon the
safe arrival of the _Protector_ a telegram was brought in to Captain
Becklemechief which, I noticed, caused his hitherto cheerful face to
assume a grave aspect. He handed it to Constructor Bubonoff with a word
in Russian which I could not understand. A little later, on our way
to Petrograd, he informed me that the _Delphine_ had sunk and drowned
twenty-three officers and men, a number of whom were in training to be
transferred to the _Protector_ to make up her crew upon her arrival. We
passed her on our way into Petrograd. She lay just off the Baltic works
dock, and divers were then recovering the bodies.
[Illustration: THE "DELPHINE"
Russian submarine, which drowned 23 of her crew the day the author
arrived at Cronstadt.]
It appears that thirty-five men, all told, were on board, and that her
conning tower hatch was closed by a lever arm connected to a nut which
travelled on a threaded shaft operated from down inside the vessel,
and it is believed that the officer in command gave the order to fill
certain tanks which were usually filled previous to closing the hatch,
not taking into consideration the fact that there was so much more
weight on board than usual, due to so many more men--eight being the
usual crew--and at the same time giving the order to close the hatch.
Just then a steamer came by and a sea broke into the hatch, which
frightened one of the men so that he tried to get out, and succeeded in
getting one shoulder and his head out of the hatch. His body prevented
the man down below from closing the hatch before the vessel had sunk
with all hands; but after she sank either the man at the closing
mechanism or some one else must have had sufficient presence of mind
to open the hatch again, as twelve of the men were carried up out of
the boat, presumably by the air bubbles which must escape from any
enclosed airtight vessel before it can become entirely filled with
water. This phenomenon may be observed by taking a bottle and forcing
it down under water; the water will rush in and compress the air,
and then the compressed air will overcome the pressure of the incoming
water and rush out, carrying some of the water with it. Two of these
men and Captain Tillian, who escaped, were afterward members of the
_Protector's_ crew. Captain Tillian told me that he was in the after
part of the boat when she sank, and the last he remembered was being in
water up to his breast and that one of the sailors asked him to kiss
him good-bye. The captain was picked up on the surface unconscious.
Another of the men said that he was carried to one end of the boat
on the first inrush of water and then he felt himself being rapidly
carried back to the centre of the boat and heard a sharp hissing sound
like the rush of air. The next thing he recalled was coming to on the
dock.
The _Alligator_ was the first of the large cruising type of submarines
which we built for the Russian Government. These vessels were five
hundred and thirty-five tons submerged displacement, which was about
twice that of the displacement of any submarines which had previously
been built; and I was very anxious to get a trial of her before the
winter season came on in the fall of 1907. As the winter closes all
navigation in the Gulf of Finland for six or seven months, and as
there were a number of new features to be tried out in this boat, I
knew that unless I succeeded in getting a trial before the winter shut
down I would have several months of worry as to whether or not the
boat would function satisfactorily when submerged. Delays occurred,
so that we were not able to get our trial as early as expected. The
action of the weather indicated that navigation was likely to be
closed within a day's time, as frequently occurs in those northern
latitudes. We had not received the periscopes or lights, and the
boat was not entirely completed, but was sufficiently far advanced to
make it safe for me to try her on a submerged run. Consequently we
arranged with the commandant of Cronstadt to supply us with a sea-going
tender and went out for a trial in the open gulf, where we could get
sufficient water to navigate such a large boat. It was very rough and
stormy, and it took us some little time to get our final adjustments
to enable us to submerge completely. We found that we did not have
sufficient ballast to enable her to be submerged by filling the usual
water ballast tanks, so we had to let some additional water in her
motor-room, being careful not to let it rise high enough to saturate
the windings of our dynamo-motors. In the meantime the storm had been
increasing in velocity and a very rough sea had arisen. I had observed
through the sighting hood that the tender was making very bad weather
of it; the last I saw of her she was pitching and jumping out of the
water to such an extent that at times I could see her keel from the
stem to nearly one-half her length. When we got under water we became
so much interested in the operation, which was entirely satisfactory,
that we did not come to the surface again for about fifteen minutes.
Then we simply rose for a look around and submerged again, giving no
thought to the tender. The seas were so high that we could not see any
distance from our sighting hood, and supposed she was somewhere in the
vicinity. We continued our tests, alternately submerging and trying her
out on the turns and at different speeds of motors until our battery
was nearly run down, then we blew tanks and came to the surface just
at dusk, expecting to find the tender to lead us back to Cronstadt. We
had no lights or compass at this time, but fortunately we were able to
catch sight of one of the lightships off the entrance to the channel
leading to the harbor of Cronstadt, sufficient to set our course for
port. By this time it was blowing a gale; in fact, it was the north
storm which preceded the close of navigation, which followed a day or
two later. Finally it set in to sleet and rain, and shut off our view
of the light. We had nothing to guide us, but took a chance on the
general direction. Fortunately we had no mines to fear, as the war had
closed and they had been removed. Finally it "cleared up" sufficiently
for us to make out the lights again, and we got into Cronstadt in the
early hours of the morning. On our arrival at the dock we found the
commandant of the port and a number of officers who had been informed
of our arrival when we came through the war harbor gateway. We found
the officers and men of the tender which had escorted us, all under
arrest, and the commandant of the port asked me with very great
seriousness if I would like to have them sent to Siberia. It seems that
they had waited about an hour after they saw us disappear, and had
come to the conclusion that we were lost. The commander of the tender
said that if he had remained out any longer he thought that he himself
would have been lost, as the storm was so severe. It broke loose nearly
everything he had in the boat, washed all of his portable deck fittings
overboard, and he feared his vessel would founder. I explained to
the commandant of the port that under the circumstances, and from my
observations of the way the boat had jumped around when we submerged,
as well as from the fact that the commander of the tender could not see
us, he was justified in coming into port. I also said that I would be
very greatly obliged to him--the commandant of the port--if he would
release the captain and crew from arrest, with my compliments; and
this, I am glad to say, was done.
A number of submarine vessels with their crews have been lost in
peace-time manoeuvres. The cause of loss has not always been easy to
determine. In numerous cases it was undoubtedly due to faulty design,
especially in boats of the diving type, where they lacked sufficient
static stability and plunged headfirst into the bottom. Numerous lives
have been lost by the explosion of either gasolene fumes or hydrogen
gas given off by the batteries, and some by asphyxiation, caused by the
escape of the products of combustion from the engines, the accumulation
of carbonic acid gas or chlorine gas generated by salt water getting
into the batteries.
These accidents are usually brought about by the carelessness of some
member or members of the crew. I had been fortunate in not having any
loss of life on any of my boats up to the beginning of the war, but
ignorance and carelessness have, in several instances, caused injuries,
and might as readily have caused loss of life.
I have had a commander, after being coached as to proper procedure, to
attempt to submerge his submarine vessel without checking up to see
that hatches and ventilators were closed.
When we were enlarging the _Argonaut_ at Erie Basin, in Brooklyn, I
went down into the boat one day and found a strong odor of gasolene
and saw numerous kerosene torches burning. Upon investigation I found
that two machinists who were dismantling the engine had broken the
gasolene supply pipe and allowed the gasolene in the pipes to run out
on the floor of the engine-room--about a half-gallon, I should judge.
I ordered the men all out of the boat and blew out the torches, even
taking the precaution to pinch the wicks. Upon going up on the deck,
a sub-foreman in charge of the men declared that there was no danger
and ordered the men back to work. I objected, and went up to the main
office to report that they were doing a dangerous thing, and to see if
I could not get the superintendent to order a blower sent down to blow
the gas fumes out of the boat. But before I could get his attention I
saw the ambulance drive by, and learned that as soon as I had left the
deck a couple of the men said I must be a d---- fool to be afraid of a
little gas, and they had then gone down in the boat and struck a match
to relight one of the torches. By this time an explosive mixture had
been formed, and I can only hope that the explosion which occurred,
as well as the following weeks which they spent in hospital, have now
convinced them, as well as some of the other doubters, that a little
gasolene in an improper place is exceedingly dangerous.
Another more serious explosion occurred on one of our large cruising
submarines at the New Admiralty Works in Russia, which was due to a
combination of both carelessness and ignorance. In this instance,
gasolene had been sent down to the Admiralty dock for conducting
dock trials of the engines. When the fuel arrived, the boat was
full of workmen, carpenters, pipe-fitters, machinists, etc., but,
notwithstanding the fact that there were rules posted that all men
should leave the boat when taking on gasolene--except an inspector,
who should check up to see that the proper valves were opened and
everything tight--the quartermaster in charge of the labor crew,
without notifying anyone in charge or anyone aboard the boat,
connected up with the supply system and started pumping the gasolene
into the boat. The engine was then running and charging batteries. Now
it appears that one of the naval officers had--also without notifying
the engineer--ordered a section of the filling pipe taken down for
the purpose of having a branch pipe connection made in order to carry
some additional fuel in the centre ballast tank--something we did not
approve of; so, when the gasolene was pumped into the boat, instead
of going into the proper tanks it ran out on the floor of the conning
tower, then down through some openings for electric wires that had
not yet been sealed, over the switchboard, and collected in a large
puddle on the floor. One of the Russian electricians, who had been aft
adjusting the dynamos, finally noticed this gasolene running down over
the switchboard and cried out in Russian, "Quick, leave the boat for
your lives!" and in his excitement he pulled the switch through which
the dynamos were charging the batteries. This created a spark, which
was all that was needed to create an explosion. Fortunately, this was
a large boat and she had three exit hatches, all of which were open. A
number of men were just in the act of going through the hatches; they
were blown up into the air twenty-five or thirty feet, according to
some observers, two of them falling into the water, from which they
were rescued. Many of the men were seriously burned, but none fatally.
Those most seriously injured were those near the hatches, as the flash
of flame rose toward the hatches, the openings being the line of least
resistance for the compressed air and gases. The men in the ends of the
boat were not injured, while those midway between the hatches had about
six inches of the bottom of their trousers burned to a crisp, which
shows that the heavy gasolene fumes had not yet become thoroughly mixed
with the air.
I had been on board this vessel only a few minutes previous to this
explosion and at that time everything was in proper order, but I
had left to keep an appointment with the Minister of Marine. Before
reaching his office, however, one of our office men overtook me and
notified me of the explosion. On my return I found great excitement,
as it was reported that many men had been killed. The explosion had
set fire to a lot of shavings and the wooden deck covering over
the batteries, as well as some joiner work which was in process of
erection. Some of the yard officers had ordered the hatches battened
down, but the engines were still running, receiving sufficient air
through ventilators to supply combustion. It was reported that several
men were missing, and it was believed they had been killed by the
explosion and were still on board. In the meantime the Minister of
Marine and other officers had arrived, also a couple of fire companies,
and I requested them to open the hatches and see if they could not put
out the fire and get out the bodies if any were there. The officers
objected on the ground that if any water were put on board it probably,
upon coming in contact with the batteries, would create a lot of
hydrogen gas and cause a further and perhaps more disastrous explosion.
Finally I procured a couple of flasks of carbonic acid gas and let
that into the boat over the battery compartment where the fire was,
which smothered the flames, and then borrowed one of the firemen's
smoke helmets and went down into the vessel, expecting to find some
of the bodies of our missing men. The fire had burned the rubber
insulators off the wires and some of the asphaltum insulators around
the batteries, and the smoke was so thick that it was impossible to see
anything, even with an electric lamp which I carried, but the heat was
not very intense, as the flames had been put out by the carbonic gas
and I found no bodies, so I ordered the hatches open, blowers put in,
and a few buckets of water, which put out the embers. Our missing men
were later found in the hospital, where they had been rushed before
their names had been taken. Seventeen of the men were injured so
badly that they had to go to the hospital, but the burns were mostly
superficial, only the outer skin and hair being burned, and this was
due to the instantaneous flash of the gasolene. They all eventually
recovered.
The following day I held an investigation and learned the above facts
regarding the delivery of the gasolene on board, the breaking of the
pipe, etc. Several of the Russian workmen saw the gasolene leaking
down into the compartment; one whom I interrogated said it had been
leaking in for about five minutes before the explosion. I asked him if
he knew it was gasolene. He said, "Yes." I asked him if he knew it was
dangerous, and he said, "Yes." I asked him then why he did not report
it, and his reply was characteristic of the Russian "moujik." He said,
"I was sent down there to clean up the shavings after carpenters and
not to look after the gasolene, as to whether that was being put on
board in a proper manner or not, and I know enough to attend to my own
business and do only what I am told to do."
The evidence further shows that about a quarter of a barrel of gasolene
had been pumped into the boat before it was discovered that the pipe
had been disconnected.
From the fact that the trousers of the men standing between the
hatches were burned only about six inches up from the bottom, it shows
that the gasolene fumes were still lying close to the floor, owing to
the fact that the fumes of gasolene are heavier than atmospheric air.
Had the explosion come a few minutes later, when the gasolene fumes and
the air had been more thoroughly mixed, the explosion would have been
more powerful and would probably have killed every man on board, as it
did in the Italian submarine _Foca_, when twenty-three men were killed
by an explosion due to a leaky gasolene tank.
There have been many other explosions, resulting in fatalities, in
almost all of the navies using gasolene boats, especially where the
fuel was carried in tanks built within the main hulls of the vessel,
as it seems impossible to so "caulk" a seam in a tank that the fumes
of gasolene will not leak through. The fact that it first settles to
the floor makes it not easy to detect by the nostrils. When gasolene
fumes become sufficiently mixed with air to rise up to the height of
one's nostrils I always consider it an explosive mixture and would not
think of striking a spark, as experiments show that a proper mixture
of air and gasolene or hydrogen and air at only atmospheric pressure
in an enclosed vessel will exert an explosive force of about ninety
pounds per square inch, which will cause practically instant death.
The above case, in regard to the Russian vessel, was undoubtedly due
to carelessness or thoughtlessness of the officer who ordered the pipe
to be disconnected, and the ignorance of the "moujik" who failed to
give warning when he saw the gasolene coming into the boat; also to the
further thoughtlessness of the electrician who pulled the switch which
made the spark.
Among other accidents that have happened in peace times, causing loss
of life, are several in the British Navy in vessels of the diving type;
the _Farfadet_ and _Lutine_ in the French Navy, due to lost control in
diving; also the _Pluviose_, which was run down and cut in two as she
was coming to the surface; the _Fulton_, during an experimental cruise,
and the F-4, E-2, and F-1 in the American Navy. In war time there have
undoubtedly been many submarine vessels and entire crews lost, with
none to tell the story of their passing.