The future Block IV Virginia-class submarine USS Arkansas (SSN 800) was recently launched into the James River at Newport News. She was ordered on 28 April 2014 and not laid down until November 2022, highlighting how far behind 774 production is running.
Arkansas SSN 800 Rollout from MOF to FDD
Arkansas SSN 800 with dock flooded before Launch
Arkansas SSN 800 Launch
Arkansas SSN 800 Launch
Arkansas is the 27th Virginia-class submarine and will be the 13th delivered by HII’s NNS.
She is the fifth vessel to be named for the “Toothpick State,” following CGN-41, a Virginia-class nuclear-powered guided missile cruiser that left the fleet unexpectedly in 1998, and BB-33, the iconic Wyoming-class dreadnought that gave 34 years of service across both World Wars.
“Opening the Attack” Painting, Watercolor on Paper; by Dwight C. Shepler; 1944 D-Day, USS Arkansas opening up off Normandy. NHHC 88-199-ew
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Warship Wednesday, July 9, 2025: Gravity Boat
Koninklijke Marine image via the Netherlands Institute of Military History (NIMH) file no. 2173-223-109
Above we see the Dutch Navy’s fully-dressed K XIV-class colonial submarine Hr.Ms. K XVIII arriving in Surabaya, Java in what was then the Dutch East Indies, some 90 years ago this week, on 11 July 1935, to a welcome from several Dutch warships, including the destroyer Hr.Ms. Van Galen in the background. Our subject submarine had left Den Helder some eight months and 22,710 miles prior. For reference, the circumference of the Earth around the Equator is approximately 24,901 miles.
At the time, it was the longest unescorted journey by a submarine, just besting a 1926 cruise by another Dutch sub. Shipping aboard the boat was one Prof. Felix Andries Vening Meinesz– a Dutch geophysicist and geodesist known for his work in the field of gravimetry– packing his “Golden Calf,” which was beloved by the crew for reasons we will cover.
Don’t let her bookish origins fool you, K XVIII proved to have teeth when the war started in the Pacific just seven short years later.
The K XIV-class
Paid for by the oil-rich government of the Dutch East Indies in 1930 to serve as “colonial” submarines with the “K” for “Koloniën,” the five K XIV-class boats were designed by Dutch Navy engineer J. J. van der Struyff, who already had the smaller 0 9 and K XI-classes under his belt. A bit larger and more modern than previous Dutch classes, they leveraged input from across Europe. Using a pair of 1,600 hp German-made MAN diesel engines and two 430 kW domestically built Smit Slikkerveer electric motors lined up on two shafts, these 1,045-ton vessels could push their 241-foot welded steel hulls at speeds approaching 17 knots on the surface (they made 19 on trials) and nine while submerged. The plant enabled them to cruise at an impressive 10,000nm at 12 knots, ideal for West Pacific patrols.
Using double hulls with a test depth of 250 feet, they carried both search and attack periscopes provided by Stroud and a periscopic radio antenna that could be used while submerged. Ideally, for their intended use around the 18,000-island East Indies archipelago, they could float in just 13 feet of water and submerge in anything over 50.
When it came to armament, they were outfitted with help from the British, including tubes for a batch of 200 Weymouth-built dialed-down Mark VIII torpedoes (dubbed II53 in Dutch service) that could hit 42 knots and carry a 660-pound warhead– not bad performance for the era.
A British-made II53 torpedo on board the destroyer Hr.Ms. Evertsen in 1929. The Dutch used these on both surface ships and subs. NIMH 2173-224-077
The torpedo tube layout in the class was interesting and not repeated in another Dutch class. They mounted eight 21-inch torpedo tubes–four bows (two on each side of the hull), two in the stern, and a twin external trainable mount forward of the conning tower– with room for 14 fish.
Hr.Ms. K XIV, seen in a Colombo drydock in December 1942, shows a good view of her bow tubes and the inset cavity forward of the fairwater for her trainable twin tubes.
A good view of the twin tubes mounted outside of the hull under the deck, prior to installation in 1931.
Besides their torpedoes, they were armed with a Swedish 88mm/42cal Bofors No.2 deck gun and two British Vickers 2-pdr QF Mark II (40mm/39cal) large-bore AAA machine guns, the latter contained in neat disappearing installations, a novel idea for guns that weighed over 500-pounds including a water-cooled jacket.
The crew of the Dutch submarine Hr.Ms. K XV with her 40mm Vickers “ack-ack” machine gun in position and 88mm Bofors gun pointing over the bow. Note the mixed crew, common for boats in the colonies. Circa late 1930s. NIMH 2158_005757
The first three boats– K XIV,K XV, and K XVI— were ordered from Rotterdamsche Droogdok Maatschappij on the same day in 1930 as Yard Nos. 167-169. The final two– K XVII and K XVIII— were ordered in 1931 as Yard Nos. 322 and 322 from neighboring Wilton-Fijenoord, Schiedam. All five were complete and ready to deploy by early 1934.
Dutch submarine Hr.Ms. K XV central control 1935 NIMH 2158_005759
Dutch submarine K XV at Rotterdamsche Droogdok Maatschappij Jan 1931 NIMH 2158_008934
Dutch submarine K XV at Rotterdamsche Droogdok Maatschappij Feb 22 1934 NIMH 2158_008935
With the class complete, they typically self-deployed some 9,000 miles to the East Indies, stopping along the way at Lisbon, Cadiz, Palermo, Port Said, Suez, Aden, and Colombo. In theory, they could have done this on one tank of diesel oil without having to refuel.
The departure of the submarine Hr.Ms. K XIV and sister Hr.Ms. K XV from Den Helder, Holland, for the Dutch East Indies, 7 February 1934. In the background can be seen sisters K XVI and K XVII, waiting offshore. NIMH 2158_008920
Dutch submarine K XV on the Tagus River, Lisbon, likely on her way to East Asia. Photo via the Direcção-Geral de Arquivos of Portugal.
The arrival of Hr.Ms. K XV in Surabaya, April 1934. In the background is the destroyer Hr.Ms. Van Nes, which would be lost in February 1942, was sunk by Japanese aircraft. The white ship in the distance is Hr.Ms. Koning der Nederlanden, a 70-year-old 5,300-ton ramtorenschip ironclad that had been disarmed and turned into a barracks ship in 1920. NIMH 2173-223-089.
DOZ 3 (Divisie Onderzeeboten), consisting at this time of the colonial submarines Hr.Ms. K-XIV, Hr.Ms. K-XV and Hr.Ms. K-XVI, seen here in anti-aircraft exercises ca 1938. Note, you can see both Vickers 40mm being extended from the sail. You have a good view of the trainable twin external torpedo mounts via the opening just under the deck forward of the 88mm gun and the large escape hatches (drägervests) near the bow and aft of the sail. NIMH 2158_019998
Dutch submarines, including sisters K XVI, K XIV, K XII, and K XV (1933-1946,) along with the older (circa 1925) and smaller (216-feet/688 tons) Hr.Ms. K XI, alongside the supply ship Hr.Ms. Zuiderkruis, circa 1936. Of note, the obsolete little K XI, armed with more primitive Italian-made I53 torpedoes, would complete seven war patrols in WWII. Meanwhile, the 2,600-ton Zuiderkruis would escape from Java in February 1942 and spend the rest of WWII in Ceylon, operating as a depot ship and transport for the British Eastern Fleet. She would return home in 1945 and go on in 1950 after Indonesia’s independence to become the flagship of the Indonesian Navy (as Bimasakti) and President Soekarno’s yacht. NIMH 2158_019986
Circa 1931 scale model of Hr.Ms. K XVIII, a K XIV-class submarine. Note her main deck gun before the fairwater with her AAA gun atop, hull mounted diving planes, net cutters on the bow, extensive running lines, forward trunk, upside down ship’s dingy aft near its crane, and twin screws on either side of a centerline rudder. 2158_054141
A similar model endures today in the collection of the Dutch Marine Elektronisch en Optisch Bedrijf. Note the arrangement of the four periscopes and aerials, but no AAA mount and a torpedo on deck over her external tubes. 0075_15_N0007294-01
A cutaway model gives a better look at her twin stowed AAA guns on either side of the conning tower, and her external tubes are shown forward between two trunks, placed between the deck and pressure hull. NIMH_2024-033_0003
K XVIII’s forward four-pack of torpedo tubes before installation in 1932. 2158_009163
Meet K XVIII
Ordered at the Wilton-Fijenoord shipyard in Rotterdam, the future K XVIII was laid down on 10 June 1931.
Construction of the K XVIII at the NV Dock and Yard Company Wilton-Fijenoord. 2158_009140
Launched 27 September 1932, by the next July, she had completed fitting out and was conducting her first of two months of trials.
K XVIII’s Langroom. Note the ornate brass fan on the bulkhead and wooden cabinetry. 2158_009184
The officers’ quarters. Note the rugs. 2158_009181
The non-commissioned officers’ quarters are seen forward, complete with padlocked lockers, with the firing installation of the deck tubes and one of the four periscopes, probably the antenna array, in the middle. 2158_009186
Construction of the K XVIII at the NV Dok en Werf Maatschappij Wilton-Fijenoord, July-August 1933. The K XVIII is undergoing a sea trial on the Nieuwe Maas. Note her telescoping radio mast and DF gear. 2158_012445
23 March 1933. Her plankowners assembled on deck in winter dress uniforms. Note the main deck gun is not fitted yet, but the forward submergible AAA is stowed with its hatch closed and the wheel on the flying bridge. 2158_009187
Construction of the K XVIII at the NV Dok en Werf Maatschappij Wilton-Fijenoord, July-August 1933. The K XVIII is undergoing a sea trial on the Nieuwe Maas. Note that her main gun has not been fitted. 2158_012442
Having been accepted and delivered, she was commissioned into service on 23 March 1934.
Hr.Ms. Submarine K XVIII, cruising in the North Sea shortly after completion. 2158_005746
Beginning on 20 June 1934, she underwent a six-week summer voyage with a squadron from Nieuwediep through the Baltic and back. The squadron included her sistership, Hr.Ms. K XVII, the old coastal battleship (pantserschip) Hertog Hendrik, and the destroyers Evertsen and Z 5. They called at several ports including Danzig, Konigsberg in East Prussia, Riga, and Copenhagen.
Crew of the submarine Hr.Ms. K XVIII at Königsberg during the squadron voyage to the Baltic Sea in 1934. The old (circa 1917) destroyer Hr.Ms. Z 5 is moored behind the K XVIII. 2158_012382
Arrival of submarine Hr.Ms. K XVIII in Danzig during the voyage to the Baltic Sea in the summer of 1934. Behind K XVIII, the destroyer Hr.Ms. Z 5. 2158_012405
20.000 Mijlen over Zee!
Returning home in the tail end of August 1934, our brand spanking new submarine was ordered to her intended duty station, with the fleet in the Dutch East Indies.
However, it was determined that this outbound sortie would be a bit more of a slow boat to (Indo)china so to speak, as she was tasked with a series of international port calls and put at the disposal of Prof. Vening Meinesz, who taught geodesy, cartography and geophysics part time at Utrecht University.
Why part-time?
Well, that’s because the good professor, under the auspices of the KNMI (Royal Dutch Meteorological Institute), had been tagging along on Dutch submarines for over a decade on a mission to measure the gravity field of the Earth. You see, it was in the subsurface dives that he could get the best readings, and almost every existing gravity reading up to that time had been done on dry land.
Before arriving on K XVIII, the professor had already shipped out several times on at least five other Dutch subs. The longest of these had been a six-month (27 May-13 December 1926) outward-bound cruise on the older K XI class boat Hr. Ms K XIII, when she deployed from Den Helder for the Dutch East Indies, via the Panama Canal and Hawaii.
Vening Meinesz’s primary instrument was one of his designs, a bronze-cased, wool-packed pendulum apparatus termed a gravimeter for obvious reasons. While the workings of his machine are beyond the scope of this post, the story goes that, to isolate its readings from the activities of working submariners, the best solution was to halt the work of said bluejackets, sending them to their racks, and halting the motors.
Rig for silence indeed.
As compensation for having to put up with the yo-yo work cycle when the professor was doing his thing, the Dutch admiralty authorized an extra guilder per man per dive when the gravimeter required them to secure stations. Thus, the machine became known to the submarine crews as Het Gouden Kalf (the Golden Calf).
The pendulum apparatus of Vening Meinesz, “Slingerapparaat van Vening Meinesz,” also known as “the Golden Calf. Positioned on the left side is the protective casing with the recording instrument on top. On the right side is the pendulum apparatus with the three pendulums at the back. Built in 1923, the instrument has been in the collection of the Delft University of Technology since 1966 and, in its time, had made over 500 submarine dives
The route from Holland to Java would be accomplished in 12 legs, the shortest just 1,200 miles, and the longest running 3,520 miles.
The end of each leg would be rewarded with a liberal port call (sometimes as long as three weeks) to show the flag, refresh supplies, and interact with the locals– with the side benefit of allowing the professor ashore to confer with regional scientific types and take gravimeter measurements in strange new places.
The port calls would include Funchal (Madeira), Saint Vincent (Cape Verde), Dakar, Pernambuco (Suriname), Rio de Janeiro, Montevideo/Buenos Aires/Mar del Plata, Tristan da Cunha, Cape Town (Kaapstad) and Durban in South Africa, Port Louis (Mauritius), and Fremantle in Western Australia before heading north to Surabaya.
NIMH_2024-033_0002
Under 43-year-old Luitenant ter zee 1e klasse (LCDR) Dirk Christiaan Marie Hetterschij, a career officer who joined the Dutch navy as a midshipman in 1910 and held his first seagoing command in 1922, K XVIII made ready for her epic voyage to East Asia. He knew the vessel well, having previously supervised the construction of the submarine.
With a wardroom of five junior officers led by 30-year-old Penang-born LTZ2 Max Samuel Wytema and Officer Marinestoomvaartdienst C. van der Linden (both of whom had sailed with Vening Meinesz previously on K XIII in 1926), a goat locker of eight petty officers, and 20 enlisted, the boat had an all-up complement of 34, skipper included.
The ship’s officers on the eve of leaving Den Helder, with Professor Vening Meinesz dutifully attired in white tropical mufti to match.
And with the whole crew. 2158_012351
13 November 1934. Submarine Hr.Ms. K XVIII before departure for the world voyage of 1934-35. Prof. Vening Meinesz foreground. 2158_012349
Submarine Hr.Ms. K XVIII leaves the port of Den Helder for her world voyage, 14 November 1934, before an assembled crowd of well-wishers. 2158_012347
The submarine Hr.Ms. K XVIII stands out, moored in the harbor of Funchal, Madeira, on 24 November 1934, some 1,680nm down on the initial leg of her 1934-35 cruise. 2158_012354
However, before leaving the Atlantic, she had a side quest.
The Snip
Dutch airline KLM in 1934 was the only operator of a precious group of five triple-engine Fokker F.XVIIIs. With an 80-foot wingspan and 9-ton maximum takeoff weight, they could carry a crew of three and a dozen passengers on convertible sleeping berths on long-range flights, able to span 950 miles in six hours before needing to refuel. They were put into service on epic 7,000-mile Amsterdam-to-Batavia (now Jakarta) runs, once making it in just 73 flying hours.
One of the five KLM Fokker XVIIIs, PH-AIS “Snip” 2161_026829
Named after birds, in December 1934, one of the five F.XVIIIs, PH-AIS “Snip” (Snipe), set out on a history-making flight, KLM’s first transatlantic service to colonial Suriname and the Antilles from Holland.
Unable to make the flight non-stop, it accomplished legs from Amsterdam to Marseille, Marseille to Alicante, Spain; Alicante to Casablanca, and Casablanca to Porto Praia in the Cape Verde Islands. Waiting for the weather to clear to hop the Atlantic and packed with extra fuel, Snip and her four-man crew set out for Paramaribo in Suriname from Praia on 19 December, making the South American strip 17 hours and 35 minutes later, by far the longest leg.
Refueling once again, it went on to Curacao, where it landed on 22 December before a crowd of thousands at Hato airport, covering the 6,516nm from Amsterdam in just under 56 flying hours. While the extra fuel tanks had taken up the normal passenger space, she had carried a cargo of 233 pounds of Christmas mail containing 26,521 airmail letters and at least one bottle of beer.
It was midway on its 2,236nm Atlantic crossing from Praia that K XVIII was waiting, surfaced, lit up, and broadcasting weather conditions and forecasts as a beacon to point Snip in the right direction and be the first on the search should she not make it. While the Dutch KNSM merchant steamships Stuyvesant and Van Rensselaer were nearby, K XVIII was the only naval vessel tasked with support, and her crew heard the plane cross over on the night of the 21st in thick cloud cover.
Snip’s 1934 flight
On December 12, 1934, the Fokker F.XVIII “Snip” departed for KLM’s first transatlantic flight to Suriname and the Antilles. The plane arrived in Curacao 10 days and 6,500 air miles later without an issue, spotted along the way by K XVIII. 2161_026836
K XVIII underway on the surface in rough seas of the Atlantic. Note the barrel of her deck gun. 2158_012391
Anyway, back to our trip
On the way to Dakar in West Africa, the crew and the professor celebrated a somber Christmas on board before a paper tree while three musically inclined crew members formed an ersatz jazz band with a couple of horns and an accordion. They would cross the Equator just after New Year’s 1935 and hold the traditional crossing the line ceremony, dubbed Neptunusfeest in Dutch parlance.
Groot Feest means “big party.” 2158_012387
At each port, K XVIII picked up staged mail and supplies, dropped off beforehand by Dutch merchant vessels. Note the “Por K XVIII, Dakar” stencil on these boxes.
The shortest stop would be an overnight anchor on 22 March 1935 at the lonely island of Tristan da Cunha, a romantic harbor for Dutch mariners as it was where Pieter Groen from Katwijk had famously lived as an uncrowned king for years, becoming the paterfamilias of the largest family on the remote South Atlantic colony. Rarely visited, the crew passed on food and medical supplies to the colony.
Arriving in Cape Town (Kaapstad) on 2 April 1935. Note the deck awning and table forward, as well as the well-mixed uniforms of the crew, all veteran subjects of Neptune Rex (and almost blue noses), some 13,190 nm into her world cruise. 2158_012377
Twin stops in South Africa at Cape Town and Durban brought extensive interaction with the colony’s Dutch expatriates, and the ship’s officers made a pilgrimage to the statue of Jan van Riebeek to adorn it with a wreath. During her call, she was the first submarine to enter False Bay and the first to use the RN dry dock at Simon’s Town, where she was hurriedly scraped and repainted in five days, with her crew pitching in to meet the scheduled ship’s movement.
Then came the longest, 27-day stint across the Indian Ocean from Mauritius to Fremantle. Three dozen men in a 261-foot tin can for 3,520 nautical miles. Importantly, they would skirt a gravitational feature known today as the Indian Ocean Geoid Low (IOGL), a gravity “hole” that formed around 20 million years ago and is the deepest one known to man. Professor Vening Meinesz would only identify the IOGL in 1948 when looking at past data.
The home stretch arrival off Java coincided with the 339th anniversary celebration of the July 1596 arrival of Dutch merchant mariner Cornelis de Houtman in his VOC ship Mauritius after a 15-month voyage from Amsterdam, an expedition that began Dutch influence in the region.
Over the course of the voyage, Vening Meinesz had made 240 measurements while submerged.
Hr.Ms. Submarine K XVIII arriving in Surabaya after her “world voyage,” July 1935. She is being escorted in by a flight of three big Dornier Do J Wal seaplanes while her crew is assembled on deck. Do you have any idea how hard it would have been to keep those whites, white after eight months on a “pig boat?” 2158_005745
The Dutch Marineluchtvaartdienst, or Naval Aviation Service, bought five distinctive twin-engine push/pull Do J Wals from Dornier’s Italian factory in Marina di Pisa in 1926, then purchased a license to assemble a further 41 domestically at Aviolanda’s facility. Able to carry two machine guns and 2,200 pounds of bombs to 500nm, the “Whales” served in the Far East in rescue, reconnaissance, transport, and patrol roles for over a decade. They were replaced in MLD service by 1941 by 34 Dornier Do 24K flying boats and 25 Consolidated PBY Catalina flying boats.
Submarine Hr.Ms. K XVIII in the Dutch East Indies, decorated and on parade duty, 11 July 1935. 2158_012424
K XVIII settles into the sheltered submarine docks in Surabaya, Dutch East Indies, after arriving. The Dutch would operate over a dozen subs from the port in the 1930s and early 1940s. Sadly, these were not hardened pens. 2158_012434
Crew members of the submarine Hr.Ms. K XVIII gathered for a welcome speech during Alle Hens, after arriving in Surabaya, Dutch East Indies, 11 July 1935. The suited Professor Vening Meinesz stands out, literally, between grinning skipper LTZ1 Hetterschij and his XO, LTZ2 Wytema. Note the white gloves and (usually German-made) Model of 1882 swords of the Dutch officers. For those curious, Dutch ships carried a very functional Model of 1911 Klewang profile naval cutlass through the 1950s, for enlisted use. 2158_012429
All the crew were presented with a special silver medal (the Draagpenning van de Rijkscommissie voor graadmeting en waterpassing) for the occasion, with Wytema and engineering officer Van der Linden earning a second award as they had earned one previously in 1926 on K XIII.
Skipper Dirk Hetterschij also picked up the Gold De Ruyter medal and was knighted, made an Officer in the Order of Orange-Nassau. He would similarly be made an Officer in the Belgian Ordre de Léopold II in 1936.
The chapels at the submarine barracks in both Surabaya and Den Helder received a stained-glass window with a tribute to the cruise of K XVIII. Painted by Willem Mengelberg in Zeist, it was paid for by the Stichting Algemeen Nederlandsch Comité “Onze Marine” association and includes a panel with Houtman’s circa 1596 VOC ship Mauritius. I believe they were both lost during WWII. 2158_012437
K XVIII’s XO during her 1934-35 cruise, LTZ2 Max Wytema, would go on to write two different submarine works, Klaar voor onderwater (“Clear for diving”) and, with Van der Linden, Met Hr. Ms. K XIII naar Nederlandsch-Indie (“With Hr. Ms. K XIII to the Dutch East Indies”) about their 1926 cruise. Wytema also shot several hours of amateur film footage during the cruise, which would later be edited by Brand D. Ochse, founder of Filmfabriek Polygoon, into an exotic 96-minute travel documentary, 20.000 mijlen over zee De wereldreis van onderzeeboot K XVIII (“20,000 Leagues of the Sea, The World Voyage of the Submarine K XVIII”).
Carrying a music arrangement by Max Tak, it showed many the first known moving images from such far-off locations as Tristan da Cunha, in addition to stirring sea shots of diving operations of a submarine underway, accompanied by dolphins.
Released in Dutch cinemas with the admiralty’s blessing and approval, the film was well-received and shown in several European countries, reportedly doing well for months in England and Spain.
I managed to find the first reel, which covers up to March 1935, leaving Argentina, in the NIMH, and have uploaded it, below.
Her film and book-worthy cruise behind her, K XVIII got to work as a normal Dutch fleet boat. She spent the next four years in a series of peacetime exercises and maneuvers, the highlight of which was the 23-ship September 1938 fleet review off Surabaya for (but not attended by) Queen Wilhelmina to celebrate her 40th anniversary.
War!
September 1939 brought an uneasy time to the Dutch East Indies. With Japan openly pressuring the colony, the local governor and his forces stepped up preparations to repel what was felt to be a looming invasion. Once metropolitan Holland was occupied in May 1940 by Germany, the DEI, still loyal to Queen Wilhelmina’s government in exile, sent its naval forces on patrol for Axis vessels in the region.
When the Pacific War with Japan kicked off in December 1941, K XVIII was in refit at Surabaya. One of 15 Dutch boats in the Pacific at the time (along with O-16, O-19, O-20, K-VII, K-VIII, K-IX, K-X, K-XI, K-XII, K-XIII, K-XIV, K-XV, K-XVI, and K-XVII), K-XVIII was soon back in the water, making war patrols and pumping torpedoes in the Emperor’s ships, one of the brighter moments in a campaign that was otherwise dark for the doomed ABDA Allies.
Her wartime skipper, LTZ1 Carel Adrianus Johannes van Well Groeneveld, had taken her sister, Hr. Ms K XIV, whose c/o was sick, on two short patrols while K XVIII was in refit in December. During which he torpedoed four Japanese steamers, sinking three for some 23,000 tons, a great start to the war!
With K XVIII back in the water in early January 1942, Van Well Groeneveld rejoined his command and departed Surabaya on his boat’s 1st war patrol on the 14th. After scuttling the evacuated Balikpapan light vessel Orion with gunfire so that it could not function as a beacon to the expected Japanese landing force, K XVIII spent the night of 22/23 January on a series of attacks on said force.
Narrowly missing the Japanese Sendai-class light cruiser Naka with four torpedoes, he sent the transport Tsuruga Maru(7289 GRT), carrying elements of the Sakaguchi Detachment (56th Regimental Group), to the bottom with a second load of four fish.
Tsuruga Maru was built down at Mitsubishi Shipyard as Yard No. 250, a 7,289-ton cargo ship for Nippon Yusen Kaisha (NYK), K.K. (Japan Mail Steamship Co.) in 1916. K XVIII sent her to the bottom in January 1942.
It was while avoiding depth charges from the responding Japanese submarine chaser Ch-12 that K XVIII bottomed and was extremely damaged, cutting her war patrol short. Returning to Surabaya by the 27th, she was still in repair when the Japanese neared the strategic port in March and was ordered scuttled along with 120 assorted Allied vessels in the area.
Before she was set ablaze, her deck gun was used to scuttle the unseaworthy Dutch Admiralen-class destroyer Hr. Ms Banckert.
K XVIII’s wartime boss, the budding sub ace Van Well Groeneveld, while in charge of the Torpedo Works at Surabaya in March 1942, went missing and was believed killed while inspecting faulty demolition charges with two other men during the destruction of the port, just shy of his 36th birthday. Besides a Dutch MWO.4, he earned the British DSO, although he was never able to receive it.
Ignoble service under the Setting Sun
With Surabaya under new management for the next five years, the Japanese had a chance to raise and repair several of the ships that were hastily scuttled there. One of these was K XVIII. Patched up to a degree, she was put into service as an unnamed and lightly armed air warning picket hulk in the shallows of the Madoera Strait in 1944. She was sent to the bottom a final time by HM Submarine Taciturn (P334) on 16 June 1945 alongside the Japanese auxiliary submarine chaser Cha 105 (130 tons). Taciturn described the action with the former pride of the Dutch submarine service as
“A K-16 class Dutch submarine covered with yellow lead and rust, she was very high in the water…Several hits were obtained and the hulk was seen listing shortly afterwards..” Before turning to sink Cha 160. Then, “target was now shifted to the rusty submarine hulk whose machine gun fire became annoying as the range closed. A considerable number of 4″ rounds were fired against her before she was seen to be sinking in position 06°52’S, 112°48’E. One of the hits was a direct hit on her gun.”
Of her four sisters, all gave hard service in East Asia in WWII, opposing the Japanese invasion of the Dutch East Indies. Two were lost during the conflict.
Hr.Ms. K XVI sank the Japanese Fubuki-class destroyer Sagiri on Christmas Eve 1941, then was, in turn, sunk by the Japanese submarine I-66 on Christmas Day, lost with all hands.
Hr.Ms. K XVII was believed lost in a newly laid Japanese minefield on or about 21 December 1941 in the Gulf of Siam and is still on patrol with 38 crewmembers. There are wild rumors she was lost in the “cover-up” in the Pearl Harbor advance-knowledge conspiracy theory, but they are, most assuredly, groundless.
Class leader Hr.Ms. K XIV (N 22), as we touched on above, was the most successful when it came to chalking up “kills,” is credited with three Japanese troopships — SS Katori Maru (9,848 tons), SS Ninchinan Maru (6,503 tons), and SS Hiyoshi Maru (4,943 tons)– sunk along with a fourth — MS Hokkai Maru (8,416 tons)– damaged in late December 1941 alone. Updated in America, she spent the rest of the war in Fremantle and would damage the 4,410-ton Japanese minelayer Tsugaru and bag numerous small vessels. She was retired in 1946, having completed nine war patrols. Also, like K XV, she languished in Soerabaja during the Dutch war against Soekarno, then was towed out and sunk in deep water following independence.
Hr.Ms. onderzeeboot K XIV (1933-1946) z.g.n. getrimd dieselen. NIMH 2158_005756
The K XIV class Bloedvlaggen, with K XVIII on the far right.
In all, wily “Free Dutch” submarines with nothing to lose accounted for at least 168,183 tons of enemy shipping and warships between May 1940 and August 1945, sinking no less than 69 ships– a figure that doesn’t count the myriad of small craft they also sent to the bottom. They also lost 16 boats, with seven still on eternal patrol.
In an ode to these old K boats, Indonesian rice (Indische rijsttafel) is a staple meal on Dutch submarines today, especially for service in the wardroom as a Blauwe hap (Blue Snack).
Epilogue
Little tangible remains of K XVIII. Her hulk was later raised (again) and scrapped in the 1950s after the Dutch had left. With so much war wreckage around Surabaya post-war, and with an active civil war going on in the islands until Indonesia’s independence in 1949, there was little appetite to set aside the relics of the once-famous submarine.
She is remembered in maritime art, such as on a recently released stamp from Tristan da Cunha.
Incidentally, when 20.000 mijlen over zee hit the theatres, it sparked a shoe drive in Holland for the island’s moccasin-wearing population, which ultimately received 760 assorted new pairs of wooden clogs for its 200 inhabitants. Unsuited for use in the rocky islands, the locals instead appreciated them as they kept the islanders in firewood for six months. K XVIII’s circa 1934-35 skipper, Dirk Hetterschij, after the legendary voyage to East Asia, became commander of the Dutch submarine service in Surabaya for two years, then returned home just in time for the German invasion. During WWII, he remained in the occupied Netherlands, where he played a key role in the Dutch resistance and was later arrested by the Germans for a time, but was released for health reasons. Placed in command of the Loodswezen, the Dutch Pilotage Service, post-war, he was made a rear admiral in 1947, but died in poor health the following year, just 57 years old.
RADM Dirk Hetterschij completed 38 years of honorable service to the Dutch Navy, most of it in submarines, with a dash of science and espionage behind enemy lines when needed. He is buried in Rhenen, with his wife joining him in 1974. As a side note, she had been the third wife of the swashbuckling late Dutch RADM Kaarel Doorman of Java Sea fame.
K XVIII’s multimedia talented XO during her 1934-35 cruise, LTZ2 Max Wytema, likewise continued to serve. The Dutch Naval Control Officer in San Francisco during WWII, he was recognized with a Legion of Merit by the U.S. Navy in 1942. While in California, he settled down and retired there, with his wife Annette passing in 1979. He joined her at age 78 in 1982.
In 2016, Dutch TV network VPRO released a digital version of 20.000 mijlen over zee in two parts. The website is kind of funky and takes a while to build, but it’s interesting to view once you get it going.
And finally, Professor Vening Meinesz, who became akin in his time to a Dutch Neil deGrasse Tyson after 20.000 mijlen over zee, continued his gravitational quest. He shipped out on four further Dutch subs in the late 1930s, including a three-month trip on Hr. Ms. O 16 in 1937. Teaching part-time both at the University of Utrecht and the Delft University of Technology, like his old pal Dirk Hetterschij, he rolled up his sleeves during the German occupation and helped organize the Resistance movement. Post-war, he took students and his instruments aboard a further six Dutch submarines, sailing as late as 1959.
Professor Vering Meinsez passed in 1966, aged 79. Utrecht University has the Vening Meinesz Research School for Geodynamics in his honor, while a crater on the moon also carries his name. Though he never wore a uniform, he earned his dolphins for sure.
The International Naval Research Organization is a non-profit corporation dedicated to the encouragement of the study of naval vessels and their histories, principally in the era of iron and steel warships (about 1860 to date). Its purpose is to provide information and a means of contact for those interested in warships. With more than 50 years of scholarship, Warship International, the written tome of the INRO, has published hundreds of articles, most of which are unique in their sweep and subject. PRINT still has its place.
If you LOVE warships, you should belong. I’m a member, so should you be!
Spotted on submarine reddit: Los Angeles-class Flight II hunter-killer USS Pittsburgh (SSN-720) with her VLS hatches open, showing badges of some famous WWII USN submarines. I don’t know the author, photos taken possibly during SSN-720’s inactivation in dry dock at PSNS & IMF, 2019-2020:
Gato-class USS Wahoo (SS-238) – she gained fame as an aggressive & highly successful submarine after Lieutenant Commander Dudley Walker “Mush” Morton became her skipper. She was sunk by Japanese aircraft in October 1943 while returning home from a patrol in the Sea of Japan.
Gato-class USS Grunion (SS-216) – she sank off Kiska around 30 July 1942, due to accidents caused/related to the circular run of her torpedo.
Gato-class USS Harder (SS-257) – her Commanding Officer, Commander Samuel D. Dealey (1906–1944), “a submariner’s submariner”, was posthumously awarded the Medal of Honor, as well as four Navy Crosses during his lifetime
Gato-class USS Darter (SS-227) – she sank a total of 19,429 tons of Japanese shipping and received the Naval Unit Commendation and four battle stars.
Tambor-class USS Triton (SS-201) – she is credited with the sinking of over 20,000 tons of Japanese shipping & warships and was lost with all hands on or around 15 March 1943. Porpoise-class USS Perch (SS-176) – she was scuttled on March 3, 1942, after a heroic battle against Japanese destroyers.
Salmon-class USS Salmon (SS-182) – she was awarded the Presidential Unit Citation for extraordinary heroism against enemy surface vessels. Tambor-class USS Trout (SS-202) – she sank 12 ships and was lost with all hands on her eleventh war patrol in 1944.
S-class “Sugar boat” USS S-28 (SS-133) – she sank one Japanese ship and was lost at sea with all hands in July 1944. Her wreck was discovered in 2017 at a depth of 8,500 feet (2,600 m) off the coast of Oahu.
Gato-class USS Trigger (SS-237) – she sank 18 ships and received 11 battle stars for World War II service and the Presidential Unit Citation for her fifth, sixth, and seventh war patrols.
Tang-class USS Tang (SS-306) – she sank 33 ships and was sunk during the last engagement by a circular run of her torpedo.
Compare the crests with the list of boats on Eternal Patrol:
“The sun reflected on the ocean’s surface as two MH-60R (Romeo) Sea Hawk helicopters carrying a duo of Navy photographers flew toward a metal behemoth steaming quietly on the horizon. As the helicopters approached the vessel, they were joined by two U.S. Army AH-64 Apaches—their wasp-like appearance befitting the attack helicopter’s mission and armament.
Mass Communication Specialist 1st Class Ryan Riley, a U.S. Navy Sailor assigned to Submarine Group (SUBGRU) 9, raised the viewfinder of his camera, adjusted the settings, and snapped a photo of the first-of-its-kind armed air escort (AAE) exercise led by U.S. Strategic Command (STRATCOM).”
250424-N-DK460-1015 PACIFIC OCEAN (April 24, 2025)—U.S. Army AH-64 Apache helicopters, attached to the 25th Combat Aviation Brigade, an MH-60R Sea Hawk helicopter, attached to Helicopter Maritime Strike Squadron (HSM) 37, and Military Sealift Command submarine support vessel MV Malama escort the Ohio-class ballistic missile submarine USS Kentucky (SSBN 737) during a routine armed air escort exercise, April 24, 2025. Commander, Submarine Group (SUBGRU) 9 exercises administrative control authority for assigned submarine commands and units in the Pacific Northwest, providing oversight for shipboard training, personnel, supply, and material readiness of submarines and their crews. SUBGRU-9 is also responsible for nuclear submarines undergoing conversion or overhaul at Puget Sound Naval Shipyard in Bremerton, Washington. (U.S. Navy photo by Mass Communication Specialist 2nd Class Gwendelyn Ohrazda)
U.S. Army AH-64 Apache helicopters and a submarine support vessel escort the Ohio-class ballistic missile submarine USS Kentucky (SSBN 737) during a routine armed air escort (AAE) exercise, April 24, 2025. AAEs are designed to improve interoperability between our services, increasing lethality through multi-domain integration. Commander, Submarine Group (SUBGRU) 9, exercises administrative control authority for assigned submarine commands and units in the Pacific Northwest, providing oversight for shipboard training, personnel, supply, and material readiness of submarines and their crews. SUBGRU-9 is also responsible for nuclear submarines undergoing conversion or overhaul at Puget Sound Naval Shipyard in Bremerton, Washington. (U.S. Navy photo by Mass Communication Specialist 2nd Class Gwendelyn Ohrazda)
Of course, they won’t be yellow when they get operational, but the Navy quietly marked a milestone in undersea warfare: the successful forward-deployed launch and recovery of the HHI Yellow Moray uncrewed underwater vehicle, a variant of the company’s REMUS 600 series UUV, from the USS Delaware (SSN 791), a Block III Virginia-class submarine. In a further note, Delaware was the first American warship commissioned while underwater, making her the ideal historical testbed for such devices.
250501-N-N0736-1001 NORFOLK (May 01, 2025) – Sailors attached to the Virginia-class fast-attack submarine USS Delaware (SSN 791) lower a Yellow Moray (REMUS 600) unmanned underwater vehicle (UUV) into the water during a UUV exercise in Haakosnsvern Naval Base in Haakonsvern, Norway, and then swim it to the sub. (Courtesy Photo)
The Yellow Moray UUV executed a pre-programmed mission profile showcasing the potential to greatly enhance the Navy’s subsea and seabed warfare (SSW) capabilities. The successful completion of this mission demonstrates the feasibility of deploying robotic and autonomous systems from submarines, opening new possibilities for clandestine operations and battlespace preparation. As part of this operation, Delaware executed three Yellow Moray UUV sorties of about 6-10 hours each using the same vehicle, validating the reliability of the system and the ability to execute multiple missions without the need for divers to launch and recover the vehicle.
But wait, there is more:
This deployment also highlighted the ability of the Submarine Force and UUV Group 1 to learn fast and overcome barriers. During the first attempts to launch and recover in a Norwegian Fjord in February, the vehicle failed to recover to the torpedo tube after multiple attempts. After recovering the UUV to a surface support vessel, technicians discovered damage to a critical part. To avoid impacts to the ship’s deployment schedule and operations, the Submarine Force (SUBFOR) shipped the UUV back to the U.S. and replaced the failed component. Knowing there was another opportunity to operate the system later in the deployment, SUBFOR returned the UUV to the theater where Delaware completed an expeditionary reload, and multiple successful UUV torpedo tube launch and recovery operations. As part of the expeditionary load, the team also executed a first-ever pierside diver torpedo tube load of the UUV in Norway, providing the operational commander with flexible options.
While the Yellow Moray itself doesn’t have much information, check out this backgrounder on the REMUS 620, its developmental “daddy”:
Here we see the submarine Bars (Snow Leopard), the first of a class of 24 planned boats for the Imperial Russian Navy, after being launched on 2 June 1915 at the Baltic Shipyard in St. Petersburg (then Petrograd).
Note her Romanov eagle bow crest and four port topside “drop collar” torpedo launcher positions. Designed by a Polish-Russian submarine engineer, Prof. Stefan Karlovich Dzhevetskiy, the launchers were a cost-effective and easy way of carrying torpedoes and were used by both the French and Tsarist navies. However, the design proved an issue in winter months, especially in ice, and greatly shortened the lifespan of the weapons carried.
On 25 July 1915, the boat, under the command of LT V. F. Dudkin, entered service and became part of the 1st Division of the Baltic Sea Submarine Force, and would be operational for the next 22 months.
Russia. Baltic. Submarine Bars 1915-1917. Note: torpedoes carried in the Dzhevetsky drop collars
Designed by Maj. Gen. (Russian admiralty officers in non-line billets were listed as colonels and generals, not admirals) Ivan Grigorievich Bubnov, the head of the GUK (Main Directorate of Shipbuilding), the Bars class was probably the most advanced and effective Russian submarines until the late mid-1930s when the Malyutka (type M) class boats began entering service.
Russian submarines Volk and Bars (center), iced in over a Baltic Winter. 1915-1917.
At 223-feet oal, they had a displacement of 650 tons (780 submerged) and could operate down to 300 feet. This made them almost ideal for the Baltic. Keep in mind that today’s Sweden’s Blekinge (A26)-class SSKs under construction right now run just 216 feet overall.
Diesel electric (with German Krupp or Russian Ludwig Nobel Kolomna plant diesels, later augmented by some American-made engines sent from New London) powering twin screws, they could make 9 knots submerged (13 on the surface) and carried enough fuel and food for 14 days of operations.
Heavily armed, they had eight 18-inch torpedos carried on the deck in Dzhevetsky drop collar trapeeze systems, and another eight fish in fore and aft torpedo rooms with two tubes in each. A small deck gun or two and a light machine gun were added. Mines could also be carried.
The Russians were able to complete 20 Bars-type boats, of which four were lost during the Great War (including Bars) while three others sank in peacetime operations. Four, as well as two of the unfinished hulls, were captured by the Germans in 1917-18. Post-war, the Soviets kept a dozen of the class in operation into the 1930s, with at least two surviving until the 1950s in use as training ships and battery charging barges.
The Soviets considered them the first “modern” submarines in Russian service.
Evolution of Soviet subs from 1914-1955 with Bars-class at top
In 1993, in the Baltic Sea, in the area of Gotska Sandön Island, the Swedish minesweeper Landsort discovered a Bars-type submarine (most likely Bars herself, which went missing in May 1917) at a depth of 127 meters.
Cap ribbon and model of the Russian submarine Bars at Vladivostok
As for her father, designer Bubnov died of typhus during the Russian Civil War in 1919, aged just 47.
MG Bubnov, in front of the building Tsarist submarine Akula, in happier days
The Tambor-class submarine, USS Tautog (SS-199), photographed from an altitude of 300 feet off the Florida coast by Navy airship ZP-31 on 29 May 1945. Note the scoreboard painted on her conning tower, representing Japanese ships sunk by the fleet boat.
Official U.S. Navy Photograph, now in the collections of the National Archives. Catalog #: 80-G-323879
Over the course of 13 war patrols,Tautog received 14 battle stars and the Navy Unit Commendation for her war service. According to Joint Army-Navy Assessment Committee figures, she sank 26 Japanese vessels, accounting for 72,606 tons of enemy shipping, against 39 ships claimed for 133,726 tons.
Artwork of USS Tautog’s (SS-199) World War II battle flag. Photographed circa the early 1970s. U.S. Naval History and Heritage Command photograph, NH 98808-KN.
After the war, Tautog served as a USNR training boat for about a decade in Milwaukee, Wisconsin, before her illustrious career ended in 1959.
The Gato-class fleet boat USS Cobia (SS-245), a WWII museum sub in Manitowoc, Wisconsin, is heading to Fincantieri in September to undergo essential dry dock maintenance for the first time since 1996. Credited with having sunk a total of 16,835 tons of Japanese shipping across four war patrols, the dry docking will address maintaining her structural integrity.
However, when it comes to restoring and maintaining the historical accuracy of these old fleet boats, the USS Cod museum has been hard at work experimenting with Cobia with in manufacturing replica period submarine parts that have been missing from these vessels for decades.
That’s when 3-D printed replacements come into play.
The French-built Daphne-class submarine SAS Johanna van der Merwe (S99) was ordered in 1967 by South Africa for use by the SAN, one of 26 of Daphnes constructed during the Cold War for service in six different fleets around the world.
Commissioned in 1971, “JDM” gave lots of shadowy and unsung service during the assorted “Bush Wars” in the 1970s and 80s in which South Africa was a proxy for the West against the Soviets in Angola and Mozambique.
SAS Johanna van der Merwe Daphne-class submarine South African Navy by Tim Johnson
She reportedly took part in at least ten clandestine special operations, dropping commandos behind enemy lines. However, Söderlund details at least 11 commando runs by JDM as: Op Extend (June 1978), Op Lark 1, Op Bargain (January 1979), Op Artist (February/March 1980), Op Nobilis (July 1984), Op Legaro (September 1984), Op Magic (March 1985), Op Argon (May 1985), Op Cide (February/March 1986), Op Drosdy (May/June 1986), and Op Appliance (May/June 1987).
Kept in operation somehow despite layers of embargoes, she outlasted the Apartheid era in South Africa and was renamed SAS Assegaai in 1997 with the change in government in Jo’Burg.
Decommissioned in 2003 after a 32-year career, her three sisters in SAN service were cut up for scrap, but a shoestring operation over the past 22 years has finally saved her. While she spent a few years as a floating museum before closing to the public in 2015, the “Silent Stalker” is now preserved on shore in Simon’s Town.
South Africa – Cape Town – 30 April 2025 – The Naval Heritage Trust (NHT) celebrated the official opening of the SAS Assegaai Submarine Museum in Simon’s Town. This milestone marks the culmination of years of dedication and hard work by NHT volunteers, donors, and stakeholders. This also happens to be the first submarine museum in Africa, a valuable tourism drawcard for the Western Cape. SAS Assegaai, formerly known as SAS Johanna van der Merwe, was a Daphné-class submarine of the South African Navy. Launc
South Africa – Cape Town – 30 April 2025 – The Naval Heritage Trust (NHT) celebrated the official opening of the SAS Assegaai Submarine Museum in Simon’s Town. This milestone marks the culmination of years of dedication and hard work by NHT volunteers, donors, and stakeholders. This also happens to be the first submarine museum in Africa, a valuable tourism drawcard for the Western Cape. SAS Assegaai, formerly known as SAS Johanna van der Merwe, was a Daphné-class submarine of the South African Navy. Launc
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Warship Wednesday, May 7, 2025: Ray of Hope
Photo by CDR Gerald Durbin of Shangri-La (CVA-38) via Bob Canchola, via Navsource.
Above we see the Gato-class fleet boat turned submarine radar-picket USS Ray (SSR-271) in Hong Kong Harbor while on her way home from her 1956 6th Fleet deployment. During WWII, she was a menace to the emperor’s fleet, running up a tally of 155,171 tons across eight war patrols.
However, she was also one of the most impressive lifesavers of the conflict.
The Gatos
The 77 Gatos were cranked out by four shipyards from 1940 to 1944 for the U.S. Navy. They were impressive 311-foot-long fleet boats, diesel-electric submarines capable of extended operations in the far reaches of the Pacific. Able to swim an impressive 11,000 nautical miles on their economical power plant while still having room for 24 (often cranky) torpedoes.
A 3-inch deck gun served for surface action in poking holes in vessels deemed not worth a torpedo while a few .50 and .30-cal machine guns provided the illusion of an anti-aircraft armament. Developed from the Tambor-class submarines, they were the first fleet boats able to plumb to 300 feet test depth, then the deepest that U.S. Navy submersibles were rated.
Meet Ray
Our subject is the first U.S. Navy warship named for the flat-bodied, whip-tailed marine cousin of the shark. She was one of the “Manitowoc 28” submarines (10 “thin-skinned” Gatos with a test depth of 300 feet and 18 thicker follow-on Balaos) constructed by the Manitowoc Shipbuilding Company of (wait for it) Manitowoc, Wisconsin between 1942 and 1945.
With all 28, initial sea trials were done in Lake Michigan then the boats were sent down the Mississippi River (via the Chicago Sanitary and Ship Canal, then the Des Plaines and Illinois Rivers to the “Mighty Miss”) to New Orleans, a freshwater trip of just over 2,000 miles, for completion and fitting out.
Gato-class submarine USS Peto (SS-265) side launched at Manitowoc
Laid down 20 July 1942, Ray launched 28 February 1943, just a month after sister USS Raton (SS-270) and a month before USS Redfin (SS-272).Ray’s sponsor was the wife of Capt. Sam Colby Loomis, Sr. (USNA ’02) and mother of then LCDR Sam Loomis, Jr. (USNA ’35), the latter one of the most decorated sub skippers of WWII.
Ray commissioned 27 July 1943 and her plank owner skipper was CDR Brooks Jared Harral (USNA ’32), a New Yorker by way of New Orleans who had learned his trade on the cramped “Sugar Boat” USS S-17 (SS-122) earlier in the war, carrying out seven short war patrols in the Panama and Caribbean area.
Ray on Great Lakes sea trials
After six weeks motoring around Lake Michigan in light conditions in the summer of 1943, she departed the Lakes on 15 August, bound for the Big Easy, where she arrived a short week later, propelled by the Mississippi. Loading stores and torpedoes there, she left for Coco Solo, Panama, on 26 August, then spent five weeks training in those tropical waters for her war in the Pacific.
Deemed ready for combat, she left Baltra Island in the Galapagos on 9 October, bound on a 7,800-mile direct trip for Brisbane.
War!
Arriving in Australia on 30 October 1943– just three months after her Manitowoc commissioning– a fortnight later, Ray departed from Milne Bay, New Guinea for her 1st War Patrol, ordered to stalk Japanese shipping north of the Bismarck Archipelago. For 60 percent of her crew, it was their first war patrol on any submarine.
On the early morning of 26 November, she sank the Japanese army Shinkyo Maru-class auxiliary transport Nikkai Maru (2562 GRT) south-west of Truk, with the vessel breaking apart into three pieces and sinking. For this, Ray suffered her first depth charging in return.
A few hours later, she pressed an attack on a ship of some 10,000 tons and reported a sinking. This could be the 2,700-ton auxiliary water carrier Wayo Maru, which was sailing with Nikkai Maru but arrived at Truk on 28 November with no damage.
In her attacks, Ray expended 10 torpedoes for seven claimed hits, which is rather good for American fish at this stage of the war. Recalled for operational reasons, Ray completed her 1st patrol on 7 December 1943, returning to Milne Bay after covering 7,479 miles in 24 days. She was credited with sinking two freighters of 9,800 tons and 4,500 tons, respectively.
Ray departed Milne Bay on her 2nd War Patrol on 11 December after a three-day turnaround alongside the tender USS Fulton, ordered to patrol in the Banda Sea.
On the overnight of 26/27 December, she stalked, then torpedoed and sank the Japanese fleet tanker Kyoko Maru(5800 GRT, former Dutch Semiramis) in the Tioro Strait 14 miles northwest of Kabaena Island. She broke in two and sank, carrying 41 passengers and crew to the bottom along with 7,500 tons of crude oil cargo.
The six-torpedo attack left a “huge billowing column of orange flames” some 75 feet wide that “mushroomed out like a thunderhead as it rose hundreds of feet in the air.”
From Ray’s patrol report:
On New Year’s Day 1944, Ray celebrated by sinking the Japanese auxiliary gunboat Okuyo Maru (2904 GRT), towing a landing craft some five miles from the mouth of Ambon Bay, with three torpedoes, killing 135 passengers and crew.
Three days later, she attacked two Japanese cargo ships in the Savu Sea just off Timor with four torpedoes, reportedly damaging one of them.
On 12 January, Ray ended her 2nd war patrol at the big Allied sub base at Fremantle, completing 7,007 miles in 46 days. She was given credit for sinking a 10,020-ton AO (Sinkoku type) and a 7,886-ton auxiliary.
Having steamed over 25,000 miles since leaving her builders six months prior, Ray was allowed a full three-week turnaround time before she left on her 3rd War Patrol on 6 February 1944.
Ordered to patrol in the Java and South China Seas, she also carried a cargo of mines to sow off Japanese-occupied Saigon, French Indochina.
Working close to shore, she grounded in the shallows on 17 February but was able to float free with the tide and the next day shrugged off two near-miss bombs dropped from a Japanese Rufe (Nakajima A6M2-N) floatplane. She dodged three more on 24 February.
Coming across a nine-ship convoy on the night of 2/3 March in the South China Sea, she fired four torpedoes, claiming a damaging hit on a 10,000-ton tanker and suffering a “severe” depth-charging in the process.
She ended her patrol back at Fremantle on 27 March after 51 days, covering 10,688 miles.
Her 4th War Patrol started on 23 April, ordered to range south off the Davao Gulf in the Philippines.
Haunted by Japanese land-based Betty bombers (Ray logged 71 aircraft contacts on the patrol), she birddogged several small enemy convoys but couldn’t line up an attack– that was until she found a “well disciplined” large convoy (Convoy H-26) of six escorts (with some emitting radar signals) covering eight Marus and a tanker on the afternoon of 21 May. Just after midnight on 22 May, she had lined up on the largest targets, the Japanese army tanker Kenwa Maru (6384 GRT) and the cargo ship Tempei Maru (6097 GRT), firing six torpedoes that damaged the former and sank the latter. Tempei Maru blew up and went to the bottom with a cargo of rice and gasoline, along with 35 crew and passengers.
The next day, teaming up with sister USS Cero, she sank the freighter Taijun Maru (2825 GRT) carrying a cargo of Daihatsu landing barges.
She made four radar-assisted night attacks on the convoy in all, firing 18 torpedoes in two successful runs, and claimed six kills.
Then she came across a Japanese cruiser task force on the afternoon of 31 May that she continued to track but could not attack for the next two days. However, she did get ineffectively strafed by one of the cruiser’s floatplanes for her efforts.
Wrapping up her 4th War Patrol at Fremantle on 14 June, she was credited with 42,000 tons of shipping, roughly three times what she bagged, but hey, it’s war.
With that, LCDR Harral was pulled from Ray and bumped upstairs to COMSUBPAC staff. In his four patrols on our boat, he had earned the Navy Cross, two Silver Stars, and two Bronze Stars, so it’s safe to say he deserved the promotion.
His replacement was Keystone stater LCDR William Thomas Kinsella (USNA 1935), late of the old (had been laid up in 1931) USS O-8 (SS-69), a training boat out of New London.
Kinsella took the repaired Ray out on her 5th War Patrol (his first) from Fremantle on 9 July, headed to patrol in the South China Sea.
He proved a fast study and sank three Japanese tankers– Jambi Maru (a.k.a. Janbi Maru and Jinbi Maru) (5244 GRT, former Dutch Djambi), Nansei Maru (5878 GRT, former British Pleiodon), and Taketoyo Maru (6964 GRT)– as well as two cargo ships– Koshu Maru (2812 GRT) and Zuisho Maru (5286 GRT) over the next month. The Koshu Maru was a particularly sad footnote, as she was packed with 1,500 Javanese laborers destined to repair the Japanese airfield at Makassar, and 540 other passengers, with most perishing as she disappeared below the surface in just two minutes.
The chase for the unescorted Jambi Maru was almost pyrrhic, with Ray firing 22 torpedoes (!) in six attacks to get eight hits on the tanker– a move that forced the sub to return to Australia mid-patrol to quickly grab more fish and head out for more havoc.
She ended her extraordinarily successful 5th War Patrol at Fremantle on 31 August 1944, completely out of torpedoes (going through 46!), capping 14,237 miles underway in 67 days.
She was credited with four “kills” totaling 36,400 tons.
On 23 September 1944, Ray departed Fremantle to begin her 6th War Patrol, ordered again to the South China Sea where she had been so busy the month before. Setting off for the waters around the Japanese-occupied Philippines with 16 Mk 14-3A torpedoes loaded forward and eight newer Mk 18 electric fish loaded aft, it would be one of her most historic sorties.
On 12 October, she sank the Japanese troop transport Toko Maru (4180 GRT) near Cape Cavalite, Mindoro, and ate 30 depth charges in return.
Two days later, a hatch inadvertently left open while submerging ended up flooding two-thirds of the control room. While she suffered mechanically from this– and was forced to call on the services of the tender USS Orion at Mios Woendi for five days of emergency repairs– she had no casualties.
On 1 November, Ray sank the Japanese coastal tanker Horai Maru No.7 (834 GRT) west of Mindoro, then completed a “special mission,” typically code for landing agents or supplies to resistance groups. Post-war, it was known that this mission saw a landing party sent ashore on the west coast of Mindoro to recover two Naval Aviators that had been shot down during carrier raids and rescued by Filipino insurgents, along with two U.S. Army officers that had been fighting with the guerillas since 1942, and a local escaped political prisoner.
Three days later, operating in a Yankee wolf pack with USS Bream, Guitarro, and Raton, the pack came across Convoy TAMA-31A and shared in sending the big Japanese transport ship Kagu Maru (6806 GRT) to the bottom off Dasol Bay, Philippines, with Ray delivering the coup de grace by blowing off the damaged ship’s bow with two torpedoes.
On 5 November, lookouts from the submarine USS Batfish spotted Japanese Convoy MATA-31, some 15 ships with air cover, heading from Manila to Formosa. The convoy included six freighters, two kaibokan frigates, and five subchasers, while the heavy cruiser Aoba and famed Mogami-class heavy cruiser Kumanowere riding along for good measure. Batfish tried to get in an attack on Aoba but came up short. She nonetheless passed on the contact, and Ray’s wolfpack made ready to receive.
Cruiser Kumano, circa Oct 1938, as seen in the U.S. Navy Division of Naval Intelligence’s A503 FM30-50 booklet for identification of ships
The next day, while off Cape Bolinao, Luzon, the four waiting American submarines concentrated on Kumano and would fire an amazing 23 fish at the big 14,000-ton bruiser.
Two hits– one blowing off her bow section and the second flooding her engine rooms– left Kumano dead in the water with an 11-degree list. However, with the swarm of aircraft keeping Ray deep during daylight hours, and the swarm of escorts too tight once she surfaced after dark, Kinsella found himself presented with a dream target– but one he could not claim. Kumano, towed to Dasol Bay by the freighter Doryo Maru, would be finished off in Santa Cruz harbor less than three weeks later by carrier aircraft from USS Ticonderoga.
Operating independently, on 14 November, Ray sank the Japanese corvette Kaibokan CD-7 (745 tons) about 65 nautical miles north-west of Cape Bolinao while the vessel was escorting Convoy MATA-32. She was sent to the bottom with 156 men. The sub followed up on this by sinking the transport Unkai Maru No. 5 (2,841 GRT) from the convoy seven minutes later.
On 19 November, Ray performed lifeguard missions, scooping up Lt. James Arthur Bryce, USNR, of VF-22, from the drink off Cape Bolinao. A young fighter pilot flying from USS Cowpens (CVL-25), his F6F-5 was damaged by anti-aircraft fire while attacking a Japanese convoy. Bryce would pick up a DFC for his actions that day, adding a second one to his salad bar in January 1945 for downing three enemy aircraft in the same sortie. Sadly, this ace (he ended up with 5.25 victories) was killed in an accident soon after.
Ending her 6th War Patrol on 8 December at Pearl Harbor via Midway with a waterlogged Lt. Bryce aboard, Ray covered a lucky 17,777 miles in an exceedingly long 98 days, firing all 16 of her Mk 14-3A torpedoes. She was given credit for 6.5 kills (sharing Kumano) for a total of 35,100 tons.
This brought her running tally sheet to 20.5 kills for 146,206 tons.
Following a much-needed refit and overhaul at Mare Island Navy Yard– which allowed her crew to spend Christmas stateside, Ray only made it back to “the line” in April 1945, at which point she was in a quite different war.
USS Ray, Mare Island 9 March 1945
With Japanese convoys no longer abundant on the high seas, her 7th War Patrol, off Kyushu in Japanese home waters and in the Yellow Sea, would be one of surface engagements against small craft that didn’t rate a torpedo.
Departing Guam on 30 April 1945, she capped this patrol at Midway on 16 June, having traveled 14,463 miles. In that interval, she had made 46 surface contacts in the Yellow Sea, with about a quarter of those being other American submarines patrolling the same area.
The rest were small coasters and trawlers– which she was determined to destroy.
Throughout 21 gun attacks, most at night, she expended 815 rounds of 40mm and 137 rounds of 5-inch, accounting for 19 small craft (two sea trucks, two small patrol boats, 15 four-masted rice schooners) carrying supplies between Japan and Korea for a total of 6,000 tons. She also encountered 24 mines, exploding or sinking most via gunfire.
However, her most important piece of work during this patrol was in two large rescues while spending 11 days on a lifeguard station off Japan. In one week, she pulled aboard 20 aviators, 10 from an Army B-29 and 10 from a Navy PBM Mariner. As noted by COMSUBDIV 141, “This second rescue was a particularly beautiful piece of work, being conducted at night in heavy seas and in close proximity to rocks and shoals.” Ray transferred the rescued crews to USS Lionfish and Pompon and continued her patrol.
In all, 86 American submarines spent 3,272 days on life guard duty during the war, with the bulk of that time (2,739 days) in 1945 when the conflict moved to the Japanese home islands. They rescued 504 men from the sea. Ray was the second most prolific life guard sub with 23 recoveries, just behind USS Tigrone, which had an impressive 52, the latter largely due to spending most of two patrols on such duty.
Ray’s8th War Patrol, beginning on 11 July 1945, saw the boat leave Subic Bay headed south to the Gulf of Siam, one of the few areas that still had enemy shipping traffic, albeit of the shallow draft kind.
Arriving in the patrol zone, by 2 August, she fought her first surface action in the region– against two junks– with Kinsella noting in his log, “We now have 3 fathoms of water under us. This is indeed poor employment for as valuable a fighting unit as a U.S. submarine, but this is the way we must get our targets nowadays.”
She continued her rampage against the lilliputian shipping on an epic scale. It was a necessary war, as the craft, under Japanese orders, were carrying salt, fish, rice, and sugar to enemy units, all inside the 10-fathom curve.
Case in point: On the morning of 7 August, while patrolling off Lem Chong Pra, she encountered a coaster and, stopping it by ramming, found the vessel with contraband and sank it via boarding party.
Pursuing another small coaster, which beached itself, Ray spotted seven two-masted cargo junks in a hidden cove as well as masts for another 16 vessels (six 250-ton schooners, a 180-ton schooner, 5 75-ton junks, a 50-ton junk, and three 30-ton junks) further down the anchorage. At 1950, on all four engines running on the surface and all deck guns loaded, “With range 2,000 yards and 1 fathom of water under keel, turned right to bring 5-inch gun to bear.” An hour later, after 64 rounds of 5-inch, all 16 of the vessels at the anchorage were sunk or sinking.
To destroy the junks in the hidden cove, just after dusk, a boarding party consisting of a JG and two gunners mates in the sub’s No. 1 rubber boat, loaded with small arms, covered No. 2 rubber boat with the ship’s XO and two torpedo mates with demo gear.
By midnight, all seven junks, floating in just four feet of water, were “burning furiously,” and the away team had been recovered with no casualties, with 40 rounds of 40mm pumped into the illuminated targets for good measure. The sub had destroyed 24 vessels in 24 hours.
On 9 August, having expended almost all of her 5-inch rounds in sinking 35 small craft (totaling 2,915 tons), she was ordered back to Subic Bay.
She covered 12,165 miles in what turned out to be her final war patrol. Ordered stateside with the outbreak of peace, she made Pearl Harbor on 15 September 1945, celebrating VJ Day underway, and left for New London five days later, arriving in Connecticut on 5 October.
She ended the war with an unofficial tally of 75.5 enemy ships sunk (including all the coastal vessels) for a sum of 155,171 claimed tons, later adjusted post-war to a more correct 49,185. She also rescued no less than 23 aviators, laid at least one minefield with unknown results, and conducted two special missions.
USS Ray earned eight Battle Stars across her WWII patrols, along with the Navy Unit Citation and the Philippine Republic Presidential Citation.
Her Jolly Roger, complete with eight battle stars under the submarine insignia, dozens of warships and maru tallies and parachutes for her 13 Naval aviators and 10 Army aircrew rescued
Ray served in a training capacity at New London until 12 February 1947, when she was placed out of commission in reserve.
SSR conversion
The Navy embarked on a series of radar picket conversions to fleet submarines starting just after WWII. This carried across three Project “Migraine” series conversions that saw 10 veteran boats land their guns and torpedoes in exchange for large surface search and height-finding radars.
Of course, this kneecapped the subs for operations as…subs… since they had to lock their radar arrays parallel with the axis of the boat before diving, and they were relegated to 6 knots or less while submerged.
Migraine I: (pre-SCB number) two Tench-class submarines, USS Requin (SS-481) and USS Spinax (SS-489), in which radar panels and electronics took up the space of the rear torpedo room, originally intended to serve in the invasion of Japan in 1946. They still had their forward torpedo room, and the stern tubes could be loaded/reloaded externally and retained their forward deck guns.
Migraine II (SCB 12): belowdecks radar equipment moved to aft battery room, radars moved to masts, and rear torpedo room and two forward torpedo tubes converted to berthing for operators. This limited these boats to just four forward tubes and eight torpedoes. Four subs were converted: Balao-class boat USS Burrfish (SS-312),Tench class USS Tigrone (SS-419), while Spinax and Requin were upgraded. These boats were all redesignated SSR (submarine, radar).
Migraine III (SCB 12A): All six of the boats in this program were “stretched” Manitowoc-built Gatos: USS Pompon (SSR-267), Rasher (SSR-269), Raton (SSR-270), Ray (SSR-271), Redfin (SSR-272), and Rock (SSR-274), with each given a 29-foot hull insert amidships ahead of the main control room to allow a dedicated CIC compartment for the radars. This grew these 312-footers to 341 feet oal and saw the entire sail replaced with an enlarged, more streamlined version. It was also the first SSR conversion to delete all installed deck guns. However, the addition of the CIC “plug” allowed these boats to retain all six of their forward torpedo tubes. They carried a sail-mounted BPS-2 search radar mounted aft of the periscopes, a BPS-3 height finding radar on a pedestal behind the sail, and an AN/URN-3 TACAN beacon on the afterdeck.
The profiles of the three Migraine project generations from the Navy’s ONI 31 sighting guide from 1955:
Redfin (SSR-272) as a radar picket submarine, Migraine III (aka SCB 12A)
In December 1950, Ray was towed from mothballs to the Philadelphia Navy Yard for her Migraine III conversion, and she was recommissioned on 13 August 1952.
She was one of ultimately eight SSR/SSRNs in the Atlantic fleet in the 1950s and made two deployments (1 March to 26 May 1954 and 5 March to 4 June 1956) to the Med under 6th Fleet orders, the rest of her short second career was occupied in a series of fleet exercises and type training.
30 April 1954. USS Ray (SSR-271) acting as a radar picket submarine for USS Randolph (CV-15) during operation “Italic Sky One” in the Mediterranean. 80-G-639551
The SSR was made obsolete by the one-two deployment of the new land-based EC-121 Warning Star in 1954 and the carrier-borne E-1 Tracer in 1958, which could operate from even older Essex-class flattops.
USS Mauna Kea (AE-22) highlines ammunition to the USS Bennington (CVS-20) in the Gulf of Tonkin the 10 September 1968. Our carrier has nine S-2E Trackers, two E-1B Tracer “Stoof with a Roof” models, and at least four SH-3A Sea Kings on deck. This would be Bennington’s final deployment and would end on 9 November. USN 1137061
With the nature of their conversion rendering them less than ideal for retention as traditional fleet subs, the end of the road was reached.
Ray departed Norfolk on 30 June 1958 and entered the Charleston Navy Yard for inactivation. Placed out of commission in reserve on 30 September 1958, she was struck from the Navy list on 1 April 1960, stripped of anything useful to keep her sisters in service, and her hulk was sold for scrap.
Her unconverted sisters lingered on for a few more years as USNR training boats.
Gato-class submarines Jane’s, 1960
The salvage price for most of the WWII fleet subs sold for scrap during this period was about $35,000 per hull, versus a $4.6 million construction cost.
As for her two wartime skippers, plank owner Brooks Harral was a submarine division and squadron commander in Panama, Key West, and San Diego before returning to Annapolis, where he served as head of English, history, and government until 1957. Retiring as a rear admiral in 1959, he later penned “Service Etiquette” for all military academies.
He passed in 1999 and is buried in the Naval Academy Cemetery.
Ray’s second wartime skipper, Bill Kinsella, also retired from the Navy as a rear admiral after a stint teaching at the Naval Academy. During his time on SS-271, he earned two Navy Crosses and the Legion of Merit. He passed in 2003 at age 89.
In the early 1980s, he wrote a pamphlet about the boat, “The History of a Fighting Ship U.S.S. RAY (SS271)” by Rear Admiral William T. Kinsella, USN (Ret.), which is long since out of publication.
The Navy soon recycled Ray’s fine name for a Sturgeon-class submarine (SSN-653) commissioned in 1967. Notably, she was the first of her class to become Tomahawk certified in 1985, capable of shooting both TLAM and TLAM-N cruise missiles through her torpedo tubes, a game changer for SSN ops.
A port bow view of the nuclear-powered attack submarine USS Ray (SSN-653) underway near Naval Station, Norfolk, Virginia, February 1991. DNST9105698
This latter Ray earned five Navy Unit Commendations, six Meritorious Unit Commendations, six Navy Expeditionary Medals, and at least three Arctic Service ribbons across her 26-year career.
USS Ray (SSN-653), USS Hawkbill (SSN-666) USS Archerfish (SSN-678) surfaced at geographic North Pole, 6 May 1986 330-CFD-DN-SC-86-07408
Tell me again why we aren’t recycling these great old submarine names?
Meminisse est ad Vivificandum – To Remember is to Keep Alive
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