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Warship Wednesday April 1, 2015: Lucky Georgios, the last man standing

Posted on April 1, 2015 by laststandonzombieisland 4 comments

Here at LSOZI, we are going to take off every Wednesday for a look at the old steam/diesel navies of the 1859-1946 time period and will profile a different ship each week. These ships have a life, a tale all of their own, which sometimes takes them to the strangest places. – Christopher Eger.

Warship Wednesday, April 1, 2015: Lucky Georgios, the last man standing

Click to big up

Here we see the Italian-made Pisa-class armored cruiser Georgios Averof of the Royal Hellenic Navy as she appeared in 1913, shortly after almost single-handedly routing the entire Ottoman fleet the year before.

In the early 20th Century, Southeastern Europe, popularly known as the Balkans, was a powder keg of a number of upstart countries living in the shadow of the “sick man of Europe”– the Ottoman Empire. With more than a century of low-key warfare between the Greeks, Romanians, Serbs, Bulgars, Croats and so on to try to break free from the Sultan and his court, by about 1900 the lines had been drawn between the Turks and the Greco-Slavic nations. Combined, the Balkan countries could cough up nearly a million men under arms– more the enough to take on the Turks. However, they could not match the Turkish Navy in either the ancient Adriatic, Aegean, Ionian, Med, and Black Seas.

That’s where Greece, who had a small army but an excellent naval tradition, stood alone against the Turks.

Between 1879 and 1914, the Royal Hellenic Navy was transformed into a modern force, picking up battleships and destroyers from Italy, France, the UK, and the U.S.

However, their French-built pre-dreadnoughts: Hydra, Spetsai, and Psara, were exceptionally small at just 5,300-tons and were lightly armed (3x 10-inch guns) and slow (16 knots). After winning the Greco-Turkish War of 1897, the Greeks went shopping for a new mega-ship with a 2.5 million gold franc donation from Greek philanthropist George M. Averoff.

George M. Averoff, the man. He left the Greek government a fortune in his will and they went warship shopping

Across the Adriatic, they inspected the Italian (by no less of a naval engineer than Giuseppe Orlando) Pisa-class “second-class battleship” and fell in love. These 10,000-ton ships, technically armored cruisers, could break 23-knots through the power of 22 Belleville boilers and carried a quartet of 10″/45 cal guns backed up by eight 7.5-inchers in four twin turrets on the centerline and more than a dozen smaller anti-torpedo boat pieces. Sheathed in up to 7-inches of steel plate, they could fight off ships their own size and outrun most that were larger.

The Italian cruiser Pisa or the Regina Marina, the sister of the Greek Averoff. (Click to big up)

Although they only needed a crew of about 700, they also could accommodate a battalion of naval infantry if needed for amphibious landings which is key in the far-flung and disputed islands that the Greeks cruised in. Not perfect when compared to British and German ships of the day, certainly, these cruisers were still better than anything the Turks had at the time. Better yet, the Italian Navy had the third Pisa that they had ordered but were going to cancel– talk about timing.

Swapping out the 10″/45 cal guns for a set of much more modern British-made 9.2″/47 (23.4 cm) Mark X breechloaders, (which had been the standard at the time of the Royal Navy’s armored cruisers), the Greek “battleship” Georgios Averof was laid down at Orlando, Livorno in 1910. With tensions between the Balkan countries and the Turks ramping up (the Italians themselves went to war with the Ottomans in 1911 over Libya), construction progressed rapidly and just 15 months later the Averof was commissioned on May 16, 1911, and was made fleet flagship.

Postcard of her as completed. Note the very Italian scheme

When war came the very next year, the Averof led the older French battleships to first blockade and then engage the Turkish fleet off the Dardanelles. There, on 16 December 1912, the four Greek capital ships met four elderly Ottoman battleships and the largest battleship fight to take place not involving “Great Powers” occurred.

Elli naval battle, painting by Vasiileios Chatzis. Charging ahead to reach cut off the Ottoman line

Elli naval battle, painting by Vasiileios Chatzis. Charging ahead to cut off the Ottoman line

Borrowing a page from Admiral Togo’s 1905 Battle of the Tsushima Straits, the Averof raced ahead all alone at over 20-knots and crossed the Turkish T, taking on each of the enemy ships single file.

While the casualties were minimal, the Turks ran after Averof‘s big British 9-inchers hammered the flagship Barbaros Hayreddin (the old German SMS Kurfürst Friedrich Wilhelm) enough to where they figured that it was either shook and jive or sink. This sharp scrap is remembered in Greece as the Battle of Elli.

Just a month later, the two fleets again met with similar outcome off Lemnos Island.

Averof entering the port of Lemnos after a patrol, guns point towards the camera. April 10, 1913.

Between the two battles, the lucky Averof was hit a total of four times by Turkish shells and suffered just three casualties. It was her guns that by large part helped win the First Balkan War.

Averof 1916 during WWI

Averof color

Although Greece eventually joined the Allies in World War I, she saw little service. However, across the Adriatic, her sistership, the Italian cruiser Amalfi, was torpedoed by the Austria-Hungarian submarine U-26 and sank in 1915.

Painting of the Greek Battleship Averof in Bosporus, Hagia Sophia in the background, in 1919

After the war, she became the first Greek warship to enter Constantinople as part of the Allied victory mission to that town and– soon enough — was back in the fight against the Turks in 1919 during the Greco-Turkish War where she was used to help evacuate a defeated Greek Army.

In addition, she helped safeguard the withdrawal of the White Russian exiles after the Russian Civil War, reportedly exchanging a few rounds with the Reds.

In the 1920s, as one of the last armored cruisers around (most had been mothballed, replaced by more modern designs), she was upgraded in France where she lost her obsolete torpedo tubes and half of her low-angle 3-inch guns in exchange for a decent battery of high-angle AAA weapons. At about the same time her final sistership, the Italian cruiser Pisa, was relegated to a training status in 1921 and was eventually scrapped by the Depression.

After that, Averof was the sole remaining member of her class afloat.

Averof after her refit

By WWII, she had been downgraded to the third most powerful Greek ship, after President Wilson had sold the Greeks the battleships USS Mississippi and Idaho (who served as the Kilkis and Lemnos respectively). Those American ships, though unwanted by the U.S. Navy, at 13,000-tons and with a quartet of 12″/45 and sixteen 7 and 8-inch guns, were a good deal better armed.

Averoff with RHSKilkis (ex-USS Mississippi) and RHS Lemnos (ex-USS Idaho) pre-WWII

Averoff outside with RHS Kilkis (ex-USS Mississippi) and RHS Lemnos (ex-USS Idaho) taken pre-WWII. Note the size difference and the very 1914-ish lattice masts of the former U.S. battle wagons.

Nevertheless, when the next world war came to Greece, both the Kilkis and Limnos were sunk by Hitler’s Luftwaffe while at anchor yet the 30-year old Averof was able to beat feet across the Med with three destroyers and five submarines to the join up with the British Mediterranean Fleet at Alexandria.

Georgios Averof at anchor at Port Said, Egypt, 23rd February 1943 via IWM. Note, no camo

Averoff in WWII under British orders, 1944 note typical RN camo scheme

Georgios Averof, Free Hellenic Navy armored cruiser, dressed up in dazzle camo, WWII

She spent the rest of the war, which if you are keeping count was at least her fifth, in Royal Navy service escorting convoys in the Indian Ocean and hiding from both Japanese and German submarines. In 1944, she carried the Greek government in exile home from London.

Armored cruiser GEORGIOS AVEROF at Piraeus Oct.1944, returning the Free Greek government after three and half year in the exile due to the occupation of the state by the Axis forces

As in the first World War, she came out of the Second unscathed and without losing a single man.

Averoff in WWII under British orders, note typical RN camo scheme

After 41 years at sea, she was the last pre-WWI era armored cruiser in active service in any fleet when she was finally decommissioned August 1, 1952. Held in mothballs for three decades, in 1984 she was overhauled, disarmed, and emplaced as a historical museum ship at Palaio Faliro where she is a popular tourist attraction.

Averof today

Averof is her latest dry dock. Note the rearward facing 7.5-inch turret to the port side. Averof has four of these mounting a total of 8 guns, which is a significant battery all its own.

Now, still officially on the Greek Navy’s list and with an active duty (if greatly reduced) crew assigned, she will celebrate her 114th birthday under the flag of the Hellenic Navy in May.

Averof is the last armored cruiser in existence above the water. The only two comparable pre-WWI steel blue water ships to her still around, Dewey’s protected cruiser USS Olympia at Philadelphia, and Togo’s pre-dreadnought battleship Mikasa preserved at Yokosuka.

Specs

Displacement: Full load 10,200 tons
Standard 9,956 tons
Length: 140.13 m (459.7 ft.)
Beam: 21 m (69 ft.)
Draft: 7.18 m (23.6 ft.)
Propulsion: Boilers: 22 Belleville water tube type, Engines: 2 four cylinder reciprocating steam engines, Shafts: 2 (twin screw ship), Power: 19,000 shp (14.2 MW)
Speed: 23.5 knots (43.5 km/h; 27.0 mph) maximum
20 knots operational
Range: 2,480 nautical miles (4,590 km) at 17.5 knots (32 km/h)
Complement: 670
Maximum capacity: 1200
Armor: Belt: 200 mm (7.9 in) midships, 80 mm (3.15 in) at ends
Deck: up to 40 mm (1.6 in)
Turrets: 200 mm (7.9 in) at 234mm turrets, 175 mm (6.9 in) at 190mm turrets
Barbettes: up to 180 mm (7.1 in)
Conning tower: up to 180 mm (7.1 in)
Armament: Original configuration:

4 × 234mm (9.2in) guns (2 × 2)
8 × 190mm (7.5in) guns (4 × 2)
16 × 76mm (3in) guns
4 × 47 mm (1.85in) guns
3 × 430mm (17in) torpedo tubes
After 1927 refit:
4 × 234mm (9.2in) guns (2 × 2)
8 × 190mm (7.5in) guns (4 × 2)
8 × 76mm (3in) guns
4 × 76 mm (3in) A/A guns
6 × 36mm (1.42in) A/A guns

If you liked this column, please consider joining the International Naval Research Organization (INRO), Publishers of Warship International, they are possibly one of the best sources of naval study, images, and fellowship you can find http://www.warship.org/

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.

Nearing their 50th Anniversary, Warship International, the written tome of the INRO has published hundreds of articles, most of which are unique in their sweep and subject.

I’m a member, so should you be!

Warship Wednesday March 25, 2015 the Granite Ship of the Line

Posted on March 25, 2015 by laststandonzombieisland Leave a comment

Warship Wednesday March 25, 2015 the Granite Ship of the Line

Here we see the once-majestic old ship of the line USS Granite State as she appeared in a much more humble state towards the end of her career. When this image was taken, she was the last such ship afloat on the Naval List.

During the War of 1812, the U.S. Navy gave a good account of itself, especially for its size, and its frigates such as Constitution and Constellation, proved their weight in gold repeatedly.

With the end of the war, the U.S. Navy had to be revitalized and as such, “An Act for the Gradual Increase of the Navy of the United States,” was approved 29 April 1816. This provided for nine larger 74-gun ships of the line and funding of $1 million per year for a period of 8 years to see these craft completed. These were to be monster ships capable of taking on just about anything the modern European powers could send across the Atlantic in single ship combat.

Do not let the name fool you, most of the American ‘74s generally carried more like 80-90 guns. Alabama‘s sistership, USS North Carolina was actually pierced (had gunports) for 102 guns. Another, ’74 sister, USS Pennsylvania carried 16 8-inch shell guns and 104 32-pounders.

Some 196-feet long, these triple-deckers were exceptionally wide at 53-feet, giving them a very tubby 1:4 length-to-beam ratio and were very deep in hold ships, drawing over 30 feet full draft when fully loaded with over 800 officers, men and Marines and shipping a pretty respectable 2600-tons displacement.

James Guy Evans (United States, born England, circa 1810–1860) U.S. Ships of the Line “Delaware” and “North Carolina” and Frigates “Brandywine” and “Constellation,” circa 1835–60 Oil on canvas, 31¾ x 44⅛ inches New-York Historical Society; The Alabama was the sistership to the two ’74s shown here, Delaware and North Carolina, though she never shipped in this configuration.

These nine ships it was decided would be named Columbus, Alabama, Delaware, New York, North Carolina, Ohio, Pennsylvania, Vermont, and Virginia and all were nominally completed by 1825.

I say nominally because by the time they were complete, the Navy had run out of money to pay for things like cannons, sails, rigging and crews so some of these ships were left “in the stocks” on land until cash could be freed.

Alabama was one of the most neglected, although President Madison himself visited her while under construction at Portsmouth Naval Shipyard.

While most of her sisters joined the fleet eventually in the 1830s, although some with much less firepower than designed, Alabama was still on land when the Civil War started.

She was a ship built, at least initially, in the period just after the War of 1812 and as such was constructed with fine live oak timbers from the South and fitted with copper spikes, sheeting, and deck nails made by the Paul Revere and Sons Copper Company of Massachusetts. Revere himself in fact, was still alive when his firm won the contract in 1816.

Doughty, the man who literally designed the early U.S. Navy

Alabama was designed by no less a naval architect than William Doughty, the same nautical genius who was responsible for the USS President, USS Independence, and USS United States 74s, Peacock class, Erie class, Java and Guerrier, North Carolina 74s class, Brandywine 44s Class, brigs, revenue cutters, and the Baltimore Clipper model so she had a good pedigree.

It was as an ode to this impressive lineage that the old girl was finally completed during the war. Her original name, now belonging to a succeeded southern state, was somewhat too ironic so she was renamed New Hampshire on 28 October 1863. She then took to the water for the first time at launching on 23 April 1864 and proceeded to fitting out.

The thing is, the U.S. Navy of 1864 did not need a classic 1816-designed ’74 in its battle line. In fact, the old girl, with provision for sail only, was an anachronism in a fleet increasingly populated with steam and iron monitors equipped with rifled guns. Therefore, she was armed much more simply with a quartet of 100-pounder Parrott rifles and a half dozen 9-inch Dahlgren smoothbore guns, so ten pieces rather than 74, but hey, at least she was afloat!

Commissioned 13 May 1864 at Portsmouth, just 48 years after she was authorized, she proceeded to Port Royal South Carolina where she spent the last nine months of the Civil War as a depot and store ship, her huge below deck berthing areas designed for up to and empty cannon ports proving just the thing to make her a floating warehouse.

It was while at Port Royal, a photographer who took a number of iconic images of her crew visited her.

Believed to be taken on the USS New Hampshire in Charleston, South Carolina, in 1864 note the boarding cutlasses on wall.

USS New Hampshire in Charleston, South Carolina, in 1864 powder monkey, same cutlasses same cannon

After the war ended, she was put out to pasture and sailed to Norfolk, once more the headquarters of the U.S. Navy, where she served as a receiving ship (again, lots of unused hammock space on a ’74 with less than a dozen guns) for more than a decade.

It was then that the Navy figured out a better use for the grand old girl.

New Hampshire as apprentice ship at Newport

According to the Naval War College Museum Blog,

In 1881 the USS New Hampshire became the flagship for Commodore Stephen B. Luce’s Apprentice Training Program in Newport. Luce and others established an apprentice system to formally educate young boys and improve the overall quality of naval recruits. The boys needed parental permission and criminals were not allowed to apply. New Hampshire, docked at ‘South Point’ on Coasters Harbor Island, was the home of these boys for a six-month period before each was assigned to a training ship. In nearby buildings the teenagers were instructed in seamanship and gunnery as well as reading, writing, arithmetic, and history.

New Hampshire was not alone in this ultimate fate. By the late 19th century, many of the famous old sailing ships of the Navy to include the USS Constitution, Farragut’s USS Hartford, and the fellow Doughty-designed ’74 USS Independence were still in daily use as roofed-over receiving ships. Their gun ports were replaced by windows, their sails and riggings largely trashed, and their armament replaced by training sets with powder enough for harbor salutes.

The Newport experiment continued for over a decade until, decommissioned 5 June 1892 but still on the Naval List, she was loaned to the New York Naval Militia as a stationary training ship based in New York City.

For the next 28 years, the mighty ship of the line endured at her post in the Hudson River where she participated in the 1892 Columbia Ship parade as well as the 1909 Hudson Fulton parade and trained thousands of naval reservists that went on to serve in both the Spanish American War and WWI. During the flare up with Spain, she was armed and made ready to repel an assault by wayward Spanish cruisers on the Big Apple that never came.

In that time, she lost her New Hampshire name (let’s be honest, it was never really hers anyway, she was a Dixie girl) to the new battleship BB-25 and was renamed Granite State, 30 November 1904.

She was the floating armory for the 1st Battalion, New York Naval Militia, who had a pretty good football team.

According to NYNM records, she “moored at first at East 27th Street & the East River (In 1898 during Spanish-American War it was used as the Naval Militia Receiving Ship); then at Whitestone, finally from 1912 at West 97th Street (to W. 94th) on the Hudson River. The barracks were on the dock side”

Bayonet drill 1898. Note the very Civil War style dress of the pre-Span Am War New York Naval Militia. At the time it was cheap surplus and Bannerman’s downtown sold it by the pound.

In April 1913 she suffered a topside fire that caused more than $3800 in damages, which is about $95K in today’s cash.

In 1918, she again chopped from NYNM service to active duty, performing duties as a U.S. Navy Hospital Ship in New York for the duration of the War. Enlisting on her deck at the time was a local boy, S1C Humphrey Bogart, who went on to star in a few movies later in life.

One of the Granite State’s toughguys

On July 21, 1918, she suffered her only known death during warfare when John James Malone, Seaman, 2nd class, USNRF, drowned during a training evolution.

Moving back to the militia after the war, with 105 years on her hull she suffered yet another fire, this time with a near catastrophic loss.

Oil, pooling around the ship from a leaking 6-inch Standard Oil Company pipe, was ignited from the backfire of a passing Captains gig. The resulting fire destroyed the gig, a three story naval office, storehouse, and the Granite State. Low water pressure on shore contributed to the loss. However, before the crew abandoned ship the vessels powder magazine was flooded, preventing an explosion that would have devastated the surrounding area. Fireboats pumped tons of water into the flaming hulk until it settled into the mud. Listing sharply to port only the mooring chains kept the vessel from capsizing.

Here we see the “Granite State,” sunk and listing, after burning at her pier in the Hudson River on May 23, 1921. The Granite State was formerly the USS New Hampshire, built in 1825, launched in 1864, and served as part of the South Atlantic Blockading Squadron in the Civil War. (Eugene de Salignac/Courtesy NYC Municipal Archives)

A total loss, she was stricken from the Naval List, and her hulk was sold for $5000 for salvage 19 August 1921 to the Mulhollund Machinery Corp. Fastened and sheathed with over 100 tons of copper, it was estimated in a New York Times article then that $70,000 of salvageable material could be removed from the hulk. Two, five ton anchors along with 100 tons of chain were still aboard and it was rumored there were three gold spikes in the ship’s keel from her original 1816 construction.

She refloated in July 1922 and was taken in tow to the Bay of Fundy. The towline parted during a storm, she again caught fire for a third time while under tow (!) and sank off Half Way Rock in Massachusetts Bay.

Wreck of the Granite State (U.S.S. New Hampshire) by Charles Hopkinson, 1922 Cape Ann Museum

The wreck’s remains on Graves Island, Manchester, Mass, just off east side of island are well documented and are in very shallow water (20-30 feet) making it an easy dive. In fact, the USS New Hampshire Exempt Site is on the list of Marine Protected Areas maintained by NOAA.

The copper bits, harkening back to Paul Revere, have been collected by local Gloucester divers for years, are held in the collection of the Gloucester Marine Heritage Center, and at least one 7-inch spike is now aboard the current Virginia-class attack submarine USS New Hampshire (SSN-778) commissioned in Portsmouth in 2008.

Spikes and recovered copper wear from New Hampshire

Speaking of copper bolts and pins, at least 22-pounds worth of these were collected in the early 1970s by Boston area scuba divers and melted down to form the Boston Cup, which is used by area schools as a liberty trophy in drum corps competitions. Other spikes and flotsam from the NH has been floating around on the collectors market for years.

Today in Newport, where the old girl remained pier side for decades, there is New Hampshire road and New Hampshire field on board the Naval Station named in her honor rather than the state’s and the base museum houses a number of items from the ship.

Specs

Displacement 2,633 t.
Length 203′ 8″
Beam 51′ 4″
Draft 21′ 6″
Propulsion: Sail, Square Rigged, 3 masts
Speed As fast as the wind could carry her
Complement unknown as completed, 820 as designed
Armament (as designed) 74 guns, mix of 42 and 32 pounders
Armament (as completed)
Four 100-pdrs
Six 9″ Parrot guns

If you liked this column, please consider joining the International Naval Research Organization (INRO), Publishers of Warship International

They are possibly one of the best sources of naval study, images, and fellowship you can find http://www.warship.org/

Nearing their 50th Anniversary, Warship International, the written tome of the INRO has published hundreds of articles, most of which are unique in their sweep and subject.

I’m a member, so should you be!

Warship Wednesday March 18, 2015 Her Majesty’s Final Cruiser

Posted on March 18, 2015 by laststandonzombieisland 2 comments

Here at LSOZI, we will take off every Wednesday to look at the old steam/diesel navies of the 1859-1946 time period and profile a different ship each week. These ships have a life, a tale all of their own, which sometimes takes them to the strangest places. – Christopher Eger

Warship Wednesday, March 18, 2015, Her Majesty’s Final Cruiser

Here we see the Minotaur-class cruiser, Her Majesty’s Ship Blake, pennant C99, of the Royal Navy as she appeared after her refit to accommodate both a fleet flag suite and a quartet of helicopters.

When the Royal Navy entered World War II, they did so with several modern light cruisers to include 10 11,000-ton Town-class and had another 11 improved Crown Colony-class vessels on the builder’s ways.

However, within the first couple years of the war, the fleet lost a number of these ships to include HMS Fiji and HMS Gloucester (both sunk in an air attack at Crete, 22 May 1941) HMS Trinidad (scuttled following air attack off North Cape, 15 May 1942), HMS Southampton (scuttled following air attack off Malta, 11 January 1941), HMS Manchester (scuttled following torpedo attack off Cap Bon, 13 August 1942) and HMS Edinburgh (scuttled following torpedo attack, 2 May 1942).

With the RN down a quarter of their new cruisers and a long war expected, the call went out in another nine emergency ships to be funded as part of the Additional Naval Programme also known as the “something keeps happening to all of our bloody cruisers” program.

These new ships would be the Minotaur-class light cruiser.

Fundamentally an improvement of the Crown Colony-class design that was already being built, these 11,130-ton ships could make 31.5-knots which didn’t make them the fastest cruisers in the world, but the fact that they could steam at an economical 16-knots (the going rate for convoys) for 8,000 nautical miles on a single fill-up made it clear they were intended for distant travels.

Two triple 6″/50 (15.2 cm) BL Mark XXIII mounts as seen on HMS Belfast. The Minotaur class repeated these and carried a third mount aft for a total of 9 tubes. Via Navweaps

Armed with 9 6″/50 (15.2 cm) BL Mark XXIII guns in 3 triple turrets, they had the same big tubes as the rest of the Commonwealth light cruiser fleet. These guns could fire a 112-pound shell to a maximum of 25,480 yards and the Minotaur-class was set up to carry as many as 1800 shells in their magazines at a rate of 6 rounds per minute per tube.

The thing is, by 1943, the Royal Navy was concentrating more on destroyers, and small escorts, which meant the new Minotaur‘s were put on the back burner.

Only one, HMS Swiftsure was completed during the war and even this ship just became operational in late 1944 (rushed to the Pacific she was the flagship of the British Pacific Cruiser Squadron, and was selected by Admiral Cecil Harcourt to hoist his flag for the Japanese surrender.) Class leader Minotaur was transferred before she was complete to Canada who commissioned her as HMCS Ontario almost a month after Hitler ate a bullet (or went to Argentina whichever you believe). A third ship, HMS Superb, was commissioned after the war.

That left six incomplete hulls at the end of WWII, lingering.

Three of these, Mars, Hawke, and Bellerophon were canceled, their steel broken back up and recycled.

Three floating hulls that had made it far enough to be launched, Tiger, Lion, and Blake, were left hanging out while the Admiralty decided what to do with them.

This brings us to the hero of our story.

Laid down 17 August 1942 at the Fairfield Shipbuilding and Engineering Co Ltd, Govan, Glasgow, Scotland, Blake was launched 20 December 1945– some three months after the end of World War II, and work was suspended. Named after Admiral Robert Blake (1598-1657), considered the founder of what became the modern Royal Navy, of whom even Nelson wrote, “I do not reckon myself equal to Blake” she was the fifth (and last as of 2015) RN warship to bear his name.

This guy

Finally, after nine years of languishing, it was decided to complete the three floating but yet unfinished Minotaurs, Blake included, to a modified design due in large part to the perceived threat of the new Soviet Sverdlov-class cruisers.

This modification amounted to scrapping the entire armament scheme to include 6 and 5-inch guns, AAA pieces, and surface torpedo tubes, in exchange for a trio of twin 3″ guns QF Mark N1 DP guns and a pair of twin 6″/50 (15.2 cm) QF Mark N5 mounts.

A good view of the twin 152mm QF Mark N5 mount forward and the twin 3″ QF Mark N1 DP guns in the No.2 mount. This same gun scheme was repeated aft and was the primary and secondary teeth of the Tiger, Blake, and Lion as commissioned. Via Navweaps.

The latter, only mounted in these three post-WWII British light cruisers, were the first to use complete cartridges rather than bagged powder under a shell. As noted by Navweaps, “Controlled by the Gun Direction System (GDS1) using the Type 992 radar. This system enabled the ships to engage multiple targets within a few seconds of each other and was technically very advanced for its time.”

Out of the six turrets used afloat, three used RP15 hydraulic control, and three used RP53 electric control. It is believed that HMS Tiger had all hydraulic control; HMS Blake had all-electric control while HMS Lion had one of each. They could fire a 133-pound shell 20 rounds per minute per tube to about 25,000 yards.

As such, the four tubes on Blake and her two full sisters could dish out 80 shells in a frantic minute while their original 9-gun Minotaur half-sisters could only fire 54.

Science!

With the three “new” cruisers entering the fleet, the RN took their half-sister baggers Swiftsure and Superb out of service and both were scrap by 1962. The Canadians followed suit with Ontario/Minotaur.

Finally commissioned 18 March 1961, HMS Blake took to the sea.

HMS Lion in Malta early 1960s. Tiger and Blake shared the same outline at the same time. Bigup and note the arrangement of the twin 3″ DP guns to the stern.

Tiger-class cruiser HMS Lion (C34) during FOTEX63 with a Whirlwind of 846 NAS from HMS Albion

After just two years she was withdrawn and converted once more in 1965 to become one of the first modern helicopter cruisers.

While she retained her forward mounts, those aft were replaced by a hangar enormous enough to fit a quartet of Wessex (later Sea King) helicopters inside. Additionally, she was given room, space, and commo equipment to serve as a fleet flagship.

HMS Tiger (C-20) and HMS Churchill (S-46), South Atlantic, April 1977

Stern view of Tiger, showing the same conversion that Blake endured

Further, she was given realistic anti-air protection in the form of a pair of quad GWS.21 Sea Cat missile launchers. Short-legged surface-to-air missiles with a range of about 5km, Sea Cat was effective enough to earn at least one confirmed kill in the Falklands.

Blake is shown with a Wessex helicopter landing

Sea King of No 820 FAA coming in to land on HMS Blake. Note the size of her hangar.

Rejoining the active list in 1969, she was perhaps one of the only cruisers to have a Harrier jump jet land upon her.

On the 52nd anniversary of Sqn Cdr E.H. Dunning’s first landing on board the cruiser, HMS Furious in 1917, 2 August 1969, Hawker Siddeley Aviation chief test pilot Hugh Merewether landed an experimental early Harrier onboard the cruiser HMS Blake.

IWM

Her sister Tiger was similarly converted while the Lion was cannibalized for future spare parts.

Then there were two…

Good overhead view of Blake

Blake 1979. Note the Seacat launcher amidships.

HMS Blake C99, a Tiger class light cruiser, and USS Nimitz underway in the English Channel in October 1975.

Blake endured through the 70s as something of a love boat design: big and expensive to operate and only trotted out for special occasions.

Tiger Class Light Cruiser HMS Blake at Copenhagen after helicopter conversion, 1973. Just 28 years prior, KMS Prince Eugen was tied up at the same pier.

HMS Blake leaving Portsmouth Harbour, June 1979

She had happy if mechanically troublesome cruises in the Med, Indian, and Pacific before a 1980 refit saw her placed in mothballs, the Invincible-class “harrier cruisers” built to replace Tiger and Blake.

Blake in layup. Via Flickr

When the Argentinians moved into the Falklands/Malvinas in 1982, both Blake and Tiger were pulled out of storage and readied for use in the South Atlantic. As the Royal Marines and Paras only brought 105mm light guns with them, it was thought that the rapid-fire 152mm models of Tiger and Blake may help in naval gunfire support while the extensive helicopter facilities allowed them to be lily pads for thirsty harriers and choppers.

However, the war soon proved faster than the old cruiser’s reactivation and, following the conflict, both Blake and Tiger were sold for scrap.

In all Blake spent just 15 years of her 40-year life in active fleet service and, though technically part of the RN during WWII, Korea, and the Falklands, never fired a shot in anger.

Blake was the last cruiser in the Royal Navy and, when she ran her battery before entering refit in 1979, fired the last “big gun” salvo in Britannia’s history.

HMS Blake by Ivan Berryman. “The newly converted Command Helicopter Cruiser HMS Blake leaves Grand Harbour Malta at the end of the 1960s. In the background, the old Submarine Depot ship HMS Forth lies at anchor at the very end of her long career.” Via Cranston.

The bell of the last HMS Blake, scrapped in 1982, is on display in Saint Mary’s Church, Bridgewater while numerous statutes and plaques exist for her namesake.

HMS Belfast, a Crown Colony-class cruiser preserved as a museum ship in London, is the closest living survivor to the “Shakey Blakey.”

Specs

Minotaur design

HMS Jamaica, 1945. This Crown Colony class cruiser was essentally the same scheme that the Minotaurs were designed to. Via shipbucket.

HMS Jamaica, 1945. This Crown Colony class cruiser was essentially the same scheme that the Minotaurs were designed to. Via ship bucket.

Displacement: 8,800 tons standard 11,130 tons full
Length: 555.5 ft. (169.3 m)
Beam: 63 ft. (19 m) (Superb: 64 ft.)
Draught: 17.25 ft. (5.26 m)
Installed power: 72,500 shp (54.1 MW)
Propulsion: Four Admiralty-type three-drum boilers
Four shaft Parsons steam turbines
Speed: 31.5 knots (58.3 km/h)
Range: 2,000 nautical miles (3,700 km) at 30 knots (60 km/h)
8,000 nautical miles (15,000 km) at 16 knots (30 km/h); 1,850 tons fuel oil
Complement: 867
Armament:
3 × triple BL 6 inch Mk XXIII guns
5 × dual 4-inch / 45 QF Mk 16 HA
4 × quad QF 2 pdr
6 × single 40 mm AA
2 × triple 21-inch (530 mm) Torpedo Tubes.
Armour:
3.25 to 3.5-inch (89 mm) belt
2-inch deck
1 to 2-inch (51 mm) turrets
1.5 to 2-inch (51 mm) bulkheads

Blake as-built

Blake, 1961. Note the different armament scheme than the original as above. Photo via ship bucket

Displacement: 11,700 tons (12,080 tons after helicopter conversion)
Length: 555.5 ft. (169 m)
Beam: 64 ft. (19.5 m)
Draught: 23 ft. (7.0 m)
Installed power: 80,000 shp (60 MW)
Propulsion: Four Admiralty-type three-drum boilers
Four shaft Parsons steam turbines
Speed: 31.5 knots (58.3 km/h)
Range: 8,000 nautical miles (15,000 km) at 16 knots (30 km/h)
Complement: 716 (885 after conversion)
Armament: As-built:
2 × twin 6 in guns QF Mark N5 with RP53 (electric) control
3 × twin 3 in guns QF Mark N1

Armour:
Belt 3.5 in – 3.25 in
Bulkheads 2 in – 1.5 in
Turrets 2 in – 1 in
Crowns of engine room and magazines 2 inches.

As helicopter cruiser

Note radically different aft profile. Photo via ship bucket

1 × twin 6 in guns QF Mark N5 with RP53 (electric) RPC
1 × twin 3 in guns QF Mark N1
2 × quad GWS.21 Sea Cat missile launchers

Aircraft carried 4 × helicopters (originally Wessex then Sea King)

If you liked this column, please consider joining the International Naval Research Organization (INRO), Publishers of Warship International

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Warship Wednesday March 11, 2015: The Teller of Tales

Posted on March 11, 2015 by laststandonzombieisland 4 comments

Warship Wednesday March 11, 2015: The Teller of Tales

Here we see the white hulled training ship Tusitala under sail in the 1930s in a painting by maritime artist Joseph Arnold. At which point she was the last commercial square-rigger in American service.

Built in 1882 by the Robert Steel & Co., Greenock, Scotland, as Yard No 130, she was an iron hulled, full-rigged ship. As such, she was in that last generation of elegant windjammers that carried cargo economically around the world. She was no steamship, and relied on the wind for her forward movement.

According to a 1952 article by Roger Dudley, “In rig she was a ship in the strictest sense of the word—a three-masted vessel, square-rigged on all three masts. Her total sail area was more than 20,000 square feet; the mainsail alone being 3,200 feet and the foresail 2,600. She carried single topgallant sails below fore, main and mizzen royals.”

Named originally Inveruglas, she flew a British merchant ensign and was British Reg. No. 87394 and signal PGVL in 1883.

As Inveruglas 1884– note the figurehead she would lose in 1917

Just three years later she was sold to the Sierra Shipping Co., Liverpool, and was renamed Sierra Lucena where she made regular runs from the home islands to Australia for wool and India on the jute trade.

As Sierra Lucena around 1900

Her British service came to an end in 1907 when, renamed Sophia, she was sold to the Norwegian shipping firm of Nielsen & Co., Larvik, Norway. The company was concerned in tramping work, but also had a steady grain trade from the River Plate to Europe.

World War I found her dodging both Allied and German warships as Norway was a strict neutral, however she did not come out of the conflict unscathed. While in the River Plate in 1917, she was ran over by a steamship that shattered her bowsprit and destroyed her figurehead. By 1921, she was laid up in Hampton Roads, with her backers unable to find suitable freights for her.

In May 1923, she was bought for a token price by the New York-based “Three Hours for Lunch Club” artists and writers association lead by Christopher Morley, and renamed Tusitala in honor of novelist Robert Louis Stevenson. The meaning is “Teller of Tales.” Stevenson was known to go by the moniker himself.

The one and only Joseph Conrad wrote a congratulatory letter to the new owners:

Joseph Conrad letter

“On leaving this hospitable country where the cream is excellent and the milk of human kindness apparently never ceases to flow, I assume an ancient mariner’s privilege of sending to the owners and ship’s company of the Tusitala my brotherly good wishes for fair winds and clear skies on all their voyages. And may they be many!

“And I would recommend to them to watch the weather,” it goes on; “to keep the halliards clear for running, to remember that any fool can carry on, but only the wise man knows how to shorten sail in time … “

The writers club wanted to use the ship to cruise among the islands so loved by Stevenson, but when that proved unlikely, James A. Farrell, a former president of U.S. Steel, acquired the ship from the writers and used her on a series of commercial voyages for his Argonaut Line from New York to Honolulu via the Panama Canal, completing one of the trips in just 76 days– all under sail.

When you consider the voyage was on the order of 5,452 miles, that’s pretty respectable for a 40+ year old vessel.

Furling the royal– four hands out on the yard passing the gaskets, by Roger Dudley from her 1932 voyage

With main and mizzen royals furled and cross-jack unbent, the “Tusitala” makes the best of a fair wind (left) by Roger Dudley from her 1932 voyage

Outward boynd, the Tusitala’s sails are set and sheeted home one by one as the tug takes her to sea, by Roger Dudley from her 1932 voyage

Out on the yardarm. Two of her crew, drafted by the old windjammer’s huge lower yard, are bending the main course to its jackstay, by Roger Dudley from her 1932 voyage

On these trips, she would carry 2600 tons of nitrates to the islands and bring back sugar on the return trips. In 1925, she made a sprint from Honolulu to Seattle, WA, in 16 days and 9 hours.

Shot from port bow, 1920-30s

abeam shot under U.S. flag 1930s

Full rig

The full-rigged ship Tusitala returning to New York with cargo from across the South Atlantic has run out of wind. The steam tug Federal No. 1 is towing, while a second tug lies along the starboard side of the ship in order to assist in the docking. Via NYT

In 1932 she was laid up, her commercial career over. Farrell sold her to the breakers six years later when maintaining her pier side at New York’s Riverside Drive wharf proved too costly.

1938 laid up

However, naval purchasing agents on the East Coast came across the leaky old girl and acquired her in 1939 for $10,000 as a training ship.

Refitted at Staten Island for another $30,000 of MARAD funds, for the first time she carried an electrical system as well as a modern cafeteria and accommodations for up to 150 cadets.

Tusitala was turned over to the U.S. Coast Guard, who ran the government’s merchie training vessels at the time. Placed in commission but not given a pennant number, she was given an “unclassified” hull designation (WIX) which is the same as the current U.S. Coast Guard Training Barque Eagle (WIX-327) carries.

In May 1940 USCGC Mohawk (WPG-75) towed the sailing ship to St. Petersburg, Florida, where she was used during the conflict to instruct thousands of new merchant sailors and officers at the U.S. Merchant Service Training Station (USMSTS) there.

Oddly enough, one of her fellow training ships at St. Pete was the world’s last sailing frigate, the Danish-built Joseph Conrad.

According to the American Merchant Marine at War (www.usmm.org) :

Her masts were cropped, decks cleared of sailing gear, and she was towed into St. Petersburg to be tied up and used as a stationary training ship to augment class facilities. First classes held aboard this ship utilized the galley and mess room as class rooms for courses which included theory and practical instruction in cooking, baking, butchering, care and use of tools and equipment, sanitation, cooks and messmen duties at sea, and ship routine. In addition, there was instruction in boat drill, gunnery, physical education, regulations, customs, and traditions.

View of Training Station from the sea. Vessel on left TV Tusitala, right is the TV Vigil

Cadets seen in a postcard from the USMSTC– the stern of the white hulled Tusitala very visible to the left

Tusitala spent the war as part of the 7-ship USMM fleet at St. Pete under the overall command of CDR. G.F. Harrington, USMS, a World War I vet with some 40-years of swaying decks under his feet. During WWII, more than 25,000 mariners passed through St. Pete’s halls and tread the decks of the Tusitala.

When the Maritime Service took over all training functions from the Coast Guard after 31 August 1942 Tusitala was administratively decommissioned and transferred to Maritime Service control and operation– even though the latter had run her for two years already.

Trainee at the United States Maritime Service training station handling a life boat in an abandon ship drill-- note the Joseph Conrad

Trainee at the United States Maritime Service training station handling a life boat in an abandon ship drill– note the dark hulled Joseph Conrad in the background. LOC image

With the war over and the facility drawing down their fleet to just a handful of ships, she was offered free of charge to the Marine Historical Association of Mystic for their museum, who instead took the Joseph Conrad as that vessel was smaller and in more seaworthy condition.

With her last chance at salvation evaporated, the old Tusitala was towed one final time across the Gulf to Mobile, Alabama in 1948, where she was scrapped. In all she saw six decades at sea under the flags of three countries while inspiring legions of artists, writers, and mariners both young and old.

Prints of http://www.paulmcgeheeart.com/pages/StormyPassage.htm "Stormy Passage" by Paul McGehee show the square-rigged ship "Tusitala" in rough seas.

Prints of “Stormy Passage” by Paul McGehee show the square-rigged ship “Tusitala” in rough seas.

Today, the former Unites States Maritime Services Training Center facility, decommissioned in March 1950, is incorporated into the University of South Florida.

While the Tusitala is no more, the Conrad remains at Mystic Seaport and is still used for training young mariners.

Specs:

Displacement: 1200 tons nominal. 1746 GRT, 1684 NRT and 1622 tons under deck
Length: 261′ long between perpendiculars (310′ overall)
Beam: 39’5″
Draft: 23’5″ depth
Engine: Nope
Rig (1883-1938) Three masts, rigged with royal sails over double topgallant and top sails, spike bowsprit after 1917. Armament: private small arms as a commercial ship, 1940-47 various gunnery tools including 3-inch and 5-inch gun mockups.

If you liked this column, please consider joining the International Naval Research Organization (INRO), Publishers of Warship International

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Warship Wednesday March 4, 2015: The Endangered D.C. Destroyer

Posted on March 4, 2015 by laststandonzombieisland 3 comments

Warship Wednesday March 4, 2015: The Endangered D.C. Destroyer

Here we see the Forrest Sherman-class destroyer USS Barry (DD-933) in a beautiful shot of a breakaway after refueling as provided by Jim Buttleman via Navsource.

Following World War II, the U.S. Navy had literally hundreds of very advanced Fletcher, Gearing, and Sumner-class destroyers in the fleet. In fact, many of these ships to include most of the Fletchers, were in mothballs or part-time NRF service. However, by the 1950s the Big Blue was looking for some more advanced tin cans to carry forth fleet operations and help screen the new breed of super-carriers. Four giant 490-foot Mitscher-class destroyers were completed during the Korean conflict era but the Navy thought they were too big. A smaller design, just a bit larger than the WWII Gearings but with more modern equipment was then designed– the Forest Sherman class.

Class leader DD-931 was ordered March 1951 from Bath and was the first of some 18 sisters. These 418-foot long, 4,000-ton full load greyhounds used GE steam turbines and Foster-Wheeler boilers to generate over 32.5-knots at max speed. Equipped with the a trio of the new 5″/54 caliber Mark 42 guns, they could shoot further (26,000 yards) and faster (40-rounds per minute per mount) than other destroyers in the fleet armed with the legacy 5″/38 cal guns. A quartet of 3 inch (76 mm) 50-caliber Mark 33 AAA guns were mounted instead of the previous generations Bofors and Oerlikons and the ships carried both 21-inch anti-surface torpedo tubes and Hedgehog ASW weapons.

The third ship of the class was named after “The Father of the American Navy,” Commodore John Barry. Barry, an American by way of County Wexford Ireland, was a bible-thumping catholic who commanded the early Continental and later United States Ships Delaware, Lexington, Raleigh, and Alliance in a series of combats during the War of Independence after receiving a commission signed by John Hancock. In 1797, at age 52, he received Commission #1 in the U.S. Navy at the hand of George Washington. Fittingly, Barry died while on active duty in 1803. DD-933 was named not only after this venerated gentleman of the sea but in honor of a Clemson-class destroyer, DD-248/APD-29 that was sunk by kamikazes 21 June 1945.

The Commodore still stands tall at Philly’s Independence Hall.

USS Barry (DD-933) was ordered 15 December 1952 and built alongside several of her classmates at Bath in Maine, commissioning on 7 September 1956.

USS Barry (DD-933) Underway, circa 1960, after she had been refitted with a bow-mounted sonar. Official U.S. Navy Photograph, from the collections of the Naval Historical Center.

She soon was deployed far and wide, conducting port calls with the fleet in South America and Europe before a refit in 1959 that saw her Mk. 25 torpedo tubes removed, new Mk.32 ASW tubes installed, and an advanced SQS-23 sonar fitted.

This made her one of the most advanced platforms in the Atlantic Fleet when the Cuban Missile Crisis kicked off.

Can you say pucker-factor?

Barry lived through that terror-inducing operation, making her own footnote in history when she investigated the Soviet-flagged merchantman Metallurg Anosov, coming close enough to photograph deck cargo. She also kept tabs on C-19, a Soviet Foxtrot-class diesel sub.

Following Cuban service, she led DesRon 24 to Vietnam. There in Southeast Asian waters she spent much of 1965-66 on plane duty watching for crashed naval aviators and alternated this with coastal naval gunfire support of Marine, 1st Cav and ARVN units ashore. Barry fired more than 2200 5-inch shells into Viet Cong and NVA positions with the aid of spotters, receiving two battle stars for her service.

USS Barry (DD-933) at sea after completion of her conversion to ASW configuration, location unknown. United States Navy, Official. Note the 5-inch mount replaced by the ASROC box.

In 1967, another refit saw her ditch a 5-inch mount for a new-fangled ASROC launcher as well as new electronics. The MK-112 “Matchbox” launcher held eight 1100-pound RUR-5 Anti-Submarine Rockets each with a Mk.46 torpedo or a W44 Nuclear depth bomb attached. A below-deck magazine, in the same compartment that held 600 5-inch shells for the mount, was replaced by magazine for another 8 rockets.

Barry then changing her homeport to Athens, Greece. There she had a ringside seat for another Red Banner Fleet v. U.S. Navy standoff in 1973 when the Soviets came eyeball to eyeball in the Med with NATO forces during the Yom Kippur War.

Moving back to CONUS with a homeport in Boston, Barry saw a yearlong overhaul that ended March 1981 that included, among other improvements, the ability for her ASROC to fire Harpoon anti-ship missiles.

Although fresh and ready, she and her sisters were rapidly retired in the early 1980s to make room on the Naval List for the new Spruance-class destroyers. On 5 November 1982, Barry was decommissioned just 19 months after refit and towed to Philly’s red lead row where she was stricken January 31, 1983.

By the end of 1983, 16 of her sisters were mothballed with only USS Edson (DD-946) remaining active until 1988.

Barry, in large part due to her recently reconditioned appearance and storage close to the nation’s capital, was given a reprieve from the scrappers and towed to Washington Navy Yard in May 1983. Used as a floating museum ship maintained by the Navy, she has been used for hundreds of change of command, retirement, and re-enlistment ceremonies for maritime personnel in the D.C. area for the past 32 years.

“A port bow view of the decommissioned destroyer BARRY (DD-933) being towed to the Washington Navy Yard by the fleet tug USNS APACHE (T-AF-172). The BARRY is to be docked permanently at Pier 2 and will be opened to the public as a museum.” 1983 U.S. Navy Photo DN-ST-84-02636 by PH3 Dixon.

Open to the public nine months a year, she sees over 9,000 civilian visitors to the Navy Museum annually.

Barry on display

If you do the math on that, more than a quarter million people have walked her decks as a museum ship since the Reagan-era while her decks and bridge have been the setting for film and TV series. Her ASROC magazine is now a vistor’s center.

Every Halloween for the past several years she turned into “Ghost Ship Barry” for the sake of the kids.

Now, with the new Frederick Douglass Memorial Bridge being built, the ship would be trapped in the Anacostia River after October 2015, and in response, the Navy intends to tow the 59-year old destroyer out of the capitol and dismantle her.

WASHINGTON (Aug. 21, 2014) The Pride of Baltimore II hosts visitors while at anchor next to Washington Navy Yard’s display ship Barry on Washington D.C.’s Anacostia Riverwalk Trail. The ship, a working replica of the first Pride of Baltimore which was a privateer during the War of 1812, is hosting visitors from Aug. 20-25 in commemoration of the 200th anniversary of the burning of the Washington Navy Yard and Washington D.C. in 1814. (U.S. Navy photo by Mass communication Specialist 1st Class Tim Comerford/Released)

Even when Barry takes her final cruise to the scrappers, her name will live on in the fleet in USS Barry (DDG-52), an Arleigh Burke-class guided missile destroyer, commissioned in 1992.

Of DD-933‘s sisters, 9 were sunk is training exercises in the 1990s, 6 have been sold for scrap (including Forrest Sherman herself last December), and two, USS Turner Joy (DD-951), and Edson, are currently saved as museum ships in Bremerton, Washington and at Bay City, Michigan respectively.

Specs

Post ASW conversion via Shipbucket, McConrads, Scifibug

Displacement: 4050 tons
Length:    418 ft 6 in (128 m)
Beam:    45 ft (13.7 m)
Draught:    19 ft 6 in (5.9 m)
Propulsion:    70,000 shp (52.2 MW); Geared turbines, two propellers
Speed:    33 knots (61 km/h)
Range:    4500 nautical miles (8,300 km)
Complement:    337
Armament:    (in 1956)
3 × 5 in (127 mm)/54,
2 × 3 in (76 mm)/50 twin mounts,
2 × ASW hedgehogs (Mk 11),
4 × 21 in (533 mm) Mk 25 torpedo tubes

If you liked this column, please consider joining the International Naval Research Organization (INRO), Publishers of Warship International

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Warship Wednesday Feb. 25, 2015: A Minesweeping Narcissus in Tampa

Posted on February 25, 2015 by laststandonzombieisland Leave a comment

Warship Wednesday Feb. 25, 2015 A Narcissus in Tampa

Painting by Rob Gelhardt

Here we see the wooden hulled steam-powered gunboat USS Narcissus as she appeared during the Civil War. She was a needed addition to a fleet that was very much overtaxed.

When the U.S. Navy plunged headlong into the Civil War in 1861, the Navy List held the names of 90 vessels, only 42 of which, less than half, were in commissioned service. Even these ships were spread all over the world (9 were in the African Squadron, 3 in the Med, 3 in Brazil, 5 were in Japan or the East Indies, et.al) . Those ships in U.S. waters were hardly ready for modern naval combat on any scale. Compared to the giant Royal Navy who had a staggering 53 steam-powered ships of the line (that mounted between 60 to 131 guns and weighed between 2400 to 4200 tons), the largest ships in the U.S. service were five 1800-ton sail frigates which mounted but 50 guns each. Indeed, the French and Russians outmatched the U.S. Navy as well.

However, with a need to blockade some thousands of miles of coastline from Maryland to Mexico while chasing down Confederate raiders on the high seas, the force soon formed four powerful blockade squadrons as well as the Mississippi River Squadron to help strangle the South in Gen. Scott’s “Anaconda plan.”

By the end of the war in 1865, the Union Navy ballooned to 671 ships on its list and its rolls contained 84,000 sailors and another 13,000 Marines. They did this by a massive shipbuilding program in every yard north of the Mason-Dixon Line as well as taking up ships from trade.

The Narcissus was one of the latter.

Built as the civilian steam tug Mary Cook in East Albany New York to move ships out of port, she was completed in the summer of 1863. That year she was purchased by Navy buyers and, after adding a 20-pounder Parrott rifle to stern deck and a 12-pounder to her bow, the little 81-foot vessel was named, for reasons unknown, the USS Narcissus. This moniker was only used this one time in the Navy (*however a USCG buoy tender, WAGL-238, did repeat it in the 20th Century).

A rather interesting single-cylinder inverted steam engine fed by a coal boiler drove her at 14-knots, which was PT-boat fast for her day.

Commissioned 2 February 1864 at Brooklyn Naval Yard, she left for the Gulf of Mexico where she was to join Rear Admiral David Farragut’s West Gulf Blockading Squadron. The admiral’s father, George Farragut, had died at Pascagoula Mississippi in 1817 and as a young boy; David hung around New Orleans and the Mississippi Sound, which made it something of a bittersweet homecoming for him to be in charge of the squadron tasked to blockade those waters.

Farragut

Speaking of which, the Narcissus, due to her shallow 6-foot draft, was perfect for patrolling inside the waters of the Sound. Shallow draft schooners from Pascagoula and Biloxi ran the blockade with great regularity even while the Union fleet controlled Ship Island, which closed in half of the Sound. One of the most notorious, the 180-foot blockade-runner Fox, had only just been burned by her crew while hard aground off Pascagoula’s front beach (the wreckage of which can still be seen off 11th Street at low winter tide). However, there were others to pick up the Fox‘s slack.

Within weeks, the little Narcissus was victorious. On Aug. 24, 1864 she captured the confederate schooner Oregon in Biloxi Bay while under the command of 56-year old recessed U.S. District Judge and then-Acting Ensign William G. Jones. The Oregon had scrapped before with the steamer USS New London and Farragut had long ached to either catch or sink her. So, mission accomplished.

It was just after this prize that the little gunboat was ordered to Mobile Bay, the location of some very hot action when Farragut “dammed the torpedoes.” And by torpedoes, we mean floating naval mines. It would be Narcissus’s job to become one of the first mine-sweepers in history and, as the joke goes, any ship can be a minesweeper once.

As you may have guessed she caught a mine, (we mean torpedo) right in the teeth while off the Dog River Bar in Mobile Bay in 7 December and sank in the shallow mud there. Jones reported: ”. . . the vessel struck a torpedo, which exploded, lifting her nearly out of water and breaking out a large hole in the starboard side, amidships . . . causing the vessel to sink in about fifteen minutes.”

While Jones and the crew, which suffered no losses, were reassigned around the squadron, the Narcissus was raised for salvage. She was at Pensacola Naval Station when the war ended, undergoing repairs. Made seaworthy, she received her last crew.

She wasnt the last Union steam tug/minesweeper to hit bottom in Mobile Bay. On 12 April, the day Mobile finally surrendered, USS Althea struck a torpedo in the Blake River and sank while dragging primitive sweep gear in an effort to clear the channels of explosive devices. Like Narcissus, she was raised and repaired.

The two battered tugs were ordered to the East Coast for decommissioning and disposal. The two unlucky ships became separated off Tampa, Florida in a storm on the night of Jan. 3/4, 1866. It was then that Althea grounded on a sandbar and the two ships exchanged signals in the howling wind and rain but when the dawn came, the Althea, after working herself free, only found bodies and floating wreckage of her companion.

It is believed that Narcissus, under Acting Ensign Isaac S. Bradbury and with a 28-man crew, hit a shifting bar 1.5 miles northwest of Egmont Key at the mouth of Tampa Bay and her boiler exploded, destroying the vessel. No living crew members were ever recovered.

Although her war was short, the hardy tug survived a rebel torpedo, supported the capture of Fort Morgan, helped close off the Mississippi Sound, and in the end gave her charges over to the sea in what could be taken as some of the last casualties of the Civil War.

Her wreck has always been known to some extent, lying in pieces along the sandy bottom off Tampa in just 15 feet of water. Texas A&M extensively mapped the site in 1999, however, most relics of the vessel are long since gone, ether carried away by divers over the years or by Union troops who salvaged her cannon and anything else useable back in the 1860s.

An easy and popular dive due to the shallow water, she became the state’s 12th underwater archaeological preserve last month in partnership with the U.S. Navy who still owns the wreck and the Florida Aquarium.

Florida’s Underwater Archeological Preserves and the Florida Aquarium maintain excellent relics to include sheathing, lanterns, and other items that were recovered. Her rare steam engine, anchor, and screw rest remarkably intact along the ocean floor.

On Jan. 15, 2015, the inshore construction tender USCGC Vise (WLIC-75305), dropped a reef ball monument on the site of USS Narcissus

As for former U.S. District Judge and former U.S. Navy Acting Ensign William Giles Jones? He liked Mobile Bay so much that he remained there after the war and took up private practice as a lawyer, dying at age 80. Althea, the Narcissus‘s traveling companion, was sold in December 1866 in New York and remained in service as a commercial tug until the turn of the century.

Specs

Displacement: 101 long tons (103 t)
Length:            81 ft. 6 in (24.84 m)
Beam: 18 ft. 9 in (5.72 m)
Draft: 6 ft. (1.8 m)
Depth of hold: 8 ft. (2.4 m)
Propulsion:      Steam engine
Speed:             14 kn (16 mph; 26 km/h)
Complement: 19 officers and enlisted
Armament:      1 × 20-pounder Parrott rifle, 1 × heavy 12-pounder

If you liked this column, please consider joining the International Naval Research Organization (INRO), Publishers of Warship International

They are possibly one of the best sources of naval study, images, and fellowship you can find http://www.warship.org/

Nearing their 50th Anniversary, Warship International, the written tome of the INRO has published hundreds of articles, most of which are unique in their sweep and subject.

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Warship Wednesday Feb. 18, 2015 Marshal Massena of Gallipoli

Posted on February 18, 2015 by laststandonzombieisland Leave a comment

Warship Wednesday Feb. 18, 2015 Marshal Massena of Gallipoli

Click to bigup

Here we see the Charles Martel-class pre-dreadnought battleship of the Navy of the French Republic, Marshal André Masséna. Just about one of the coolest late-19th century warwagons, she is a classic of Edwardian naval tumblehome hull architecture.

This 11,000-ton, 369-foot warship today would be classified as a cruiser or even a Zumwalt-class destroyer, but in 1892, she was an ass kicker. An incredibly complicated system of two dozen Lagrafel d’Allest water-tube boilers fed manually by coal pushed three triple expansion engines that could propel her and her near sisters at about 17-ish knots, which was pretty good for the day.

in port

If she had to fight, a pair of 12”/40 caliber (305mm) Modèle 1893 guns, mounted in single turrets fore and aft, could hole an enemy ship with a 770-pound AP shell out to 13,00 yards. These were backed up by another pair of 10-inch guns, 16 smaller mounts and, like most battleships of the era, had submerged torpedo tubes. She was made to be able to slug it out, being fitted with up to 18-inches of steel plate armor.

A great overhead shot. Note the armarment plan, with the two 12-inchers fore and aft and two single 10-inchesr port and starboard.

A great overhead shot. Note the armament plan, with the two 12-inchers fore and aft and two single 10-inchesr port and starboard.

Laid down at Ateliers et Chantiers de la Loire in 1892, she was named after André Masséna, Duc de Rivoli, Prince d’Essling, one of Napoleon’s original 18 Marshals. Of course Massena turned his back in little N when the Bourbons came back to power and kept it turned during the 100 Days, but hey nobody is perfect.

The namesake battleship was commissioned in June 1898, after five years on the builder’s ways. Coming out during the Spanish-American War, in which most of the ships in combat were armored cruisers smaller and less heavily armed than Masséna, her design was felt validated.

French pre-dreadnought battleship Masséna, alongside one of her sisters

She spent the next decade in happy peacetime maneuvers, gunnery trials, and practice. However, by 1908 a funny thing happened. You see after the Russo Japanese War of 1904-05, dreadnoughts of her type were hamburger. In fact, four Russian Borodino-class battleships, themselves actually more modern versions of the Masséna and her sisters, lasted just minutes in combat. With the all-big-gun HMS Dreadnought being commissioned in 1906, she was further made obsolete.

Masséna was sitting in French mothballs when World War One erupted and she was eventually dusted off. Even old battleships are useful in a Great War after all. She was to be used to help force the straits to the Bosporus during the Gallipoli Campaign in late 1914 along with her recently recalled sisters.

Note the hull shape

There, Bouvet, one of these sisterships struck a mine and sunk in just two minutes during operations off the Dardanelles on 18 March 1915. That was indicative of campaign. When that whole thing unraveled, Massena, the 17-year-old bruiser was scuttled in shallow water and used as a breakwater to help evac the ANZAC/French forces in 1916. In 1923, the postwar French Naval Bureau sold the hulk, which they still technically owned, to breakers for scrap.

Her three surviving near sisters in French service, Charles Martel, Jauréguiberry, and Carnot, were out of front line service after Gallipoli and scrapped before the next war, the class forgotten.

As for Masséna himself, his sabre is on display at the musée d’Art et d’Histoire de Neuchâte

Specs

Charles Martel class line drawing as commissioned. Image from Shipbucket

Displacement: 11,735 tons (11,550 long tons)
Length: 112.65 m (369 ft. 7 in)
Beam: 20.27 m (66 ft. 6 in)
Draft: 8.84 m (29 ft. 0 in)
Propulsion: Three triple expansion engines
Speed: 17 kn (31 km/h; 20 mph)
Complement: 667
Armament:
2 × 305 mm/40 (12 in) Modèle 1893 guns
2 × 274 mm/45 (10.8 in) Modèle 1893 guns
8 × 138 mm/45 (5.5 in) Modèle 1888 guns
8 × 100 mm (3.9 in) guns
4 × 450 mm torpedo tubes (submerged)
Armor:
Belt: 450 mm (18 in)
Turrets: 400 mm (16 in)
Conning tower: 350 mm (14 in)

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Warship Wednesday Feb 11, 2015: Of Cyclops and Covered Wagons

Posted on February 11, 2015 by laststandonzombieisland 7 comments

Warship Wednesday, Feb 11, 2015: Of Cyclops and Covered Wagons

Click to big up

Here we see the U.S. Navy’s first aircraft carrier in 1924 with a dozen early biplanes on her deck, the one that started the whole shebang of sea-going Naval Aviation in the Western Hemisphere: the converted Proteus-class collier USS Langley (CV-1) nee USS Jupiter (AC-3).

One cold harsh realization that the original Global Force for Good,–Teddy Roosevelt’s 1908 Great White Fleet– came to know during its round-the-world sortie, was that a large force of battleships and cruisers needed huge, dedicated coal-carriers to keep the fleet moving. You see those water tube boilers of the day had to have a steady stream of the black stuff to make steam or the whole thing was dead in the water.

That’s when the Navy decided to ask for a quartet of new, purpose-built, colliers. Operated by the Naval Auxiliary Service, the forerunner of the MSC of today, these would be unarmed, civilian-crewed ships, owned by the government and under Navy orders.

Like class leader USS Proteus laid down in 1911 at Newport News, the four colliers would have names drawn from Greek mythology. Sisterships, Cyclops, Nereus, and Jupiter were likewise named and ordered at the same time. Nereus would be constructed at Newport News alongside Proteus while Cyclops was built at Cramp in Pennsylvania. Jupiter, our subject was laid down on 18 October 1911 at the Mare Island Naval Shipyard in Vallejo, California.

USS Jupiter in the Mare Island Channel, 7 April 1913 (Commissioning Day). The collier USS Saturn is aft of Jupiter Navy Yard Mare Island photo # AC 3 001-4-13 via Navsource

These 522-foot long ships, built at a bargain price of $1 million a pop, they could tote 11,800 tons of coal and 1,125 ton of oil in six holds. They were made distinctive by their seven tall A-frame towers, standing five stories above deck (remember this later) that allowed coal or oil to be moved via a complicated series of 24 winches and 12 cable-ways to vessels along either side. In tests with the battleship Wyoming, it was found that one of these colliers could transfer 217 tons per hour if needed, which was pretty efficient.

They could also carry 8,000 tons of dry cargo in place of coal and small amounts of men from place to place. As such, they proved handy as a sort of low-budget federal shipping service for the government.

Post card of USS Jupiter moored pier side, probably at Mare Island Navy Yard, sometime about the time of her completion in 1913. Robert M. Cieri via Navsource

Postcard of USS Jupiter moored pier side, probably at Mare Island Navy Yard, sometimes about the time of her completion in 1913. Robert M. Cieri via Navsource

Jupiter was commissioned on 7 April 1913 and, like her three sisters, proved yeoman service to the fleet both in the days leading up to WWI and in the war itself. By 1916, the Navy had directed that these ships be crewed by actual naval personnel, and they picked up a quartet of 4-inch popguns for self-defense. Jupiter did her duty when the Great War came and coaled the U.S. Atlantic Fleet on both sides of the pond, seeing service in dangerous U-boat-infested waters without a hitch.

Lead Ship, Dreadnought Battleship USS South Carolina pictured conducting experimental coaling at sea with Collier USS Cyclops while underway in April 1914. Two 800 lb bags of coal were moved at once by the line between the vessels

Speaking of dangerous, her sister ship, USS Cyclops, carrying the United States Consul-General to Rio, Alfred Louis Moreau Gottschalk among her passengers, as well as 231 crew and an overloaded cargo of manganese, went missing somewhere between Barbados and Virginia in March 1918. This disappearance was blamed at the time on U-boats, or possibly a fierce storm that swept through the Virginia Capes. Other theories included the possibility that her German-born Captain may have done something with her, and, later Bermuda Triangle advocates have advanced all sorts of crap claims ranging from UFOs to magnetic shifts. Other more plausible reasons include the ship’s very high messianic height (have you seen those derrick towers!?), the numerous huge hatches on deck, and low freeboard (just 8-feet when fully loaded) leading to unsafe conditions in rough seas.

Cyclops has never been found although at least one Navy diver, Dean Hawes in 1968, descended on a large hulk lying in 180 feet of water about 40 nautical miles northeast of Cape Charles, that is thought to have been the Cyclops. The ship has been an ongoing topic for Clive Cussler and his NUMA crew, even making it into a rather entertaining Dirk Pitt novel that I read back in 7th grade…and again in 10th…

Anyways, back to Jupiter.

With the war over and the Navy moving to oilers rather than colliers, Jupiter was surplus. In fact, her surviving sisters Nereus and Proteus were laid up on red lead row for good. That fate was almost shared by Jupiter, who was decommissioned on 24 March 1920, except that she was converted to use as the U.S. Navy’s first, albeit experimental, aircraft carrier.

In 1922, she reemerged from the Norfolk Navy Yard dubbed USS Langley after aviation pioneer Samuel Pierpont Langley. Gone were her huge towers, her topside now covered with a wooden flight deck for aircraft. As such, she took on the nickname of “The Covered Wagon.”

USS Langley (CV-1) early in her career (note single stack to port). Photo is stamped on back: “Chief of Information. Navy Department. Washington, 25 D.C.” Photo by Jim Bulebush via Navsource

With her huge derricks removed and topside weight reduced, she shed some 5,000 tons and could float in water some five feet more shallow. She also picked up a couple knots in speed without all that bulk. In addition to her flight deck, she was fitted with an elevator and catapult as well as a carrier pigeon house on the stern. Her old 4″/50s were replaced by newer 5″/51s and her holds were converted to berthing for up to 500 bluejackets and air wing members as well as bunkering for avgas and lubricants.

An image taken from a departing biplane, Aug 03, 1923 of the U.S. Navy's first aircraft carrier. NARA Photo 520639

An image is taken from a departing biplane, Aug 03, 1923, of the U.S. Navy’s first aircraft carrier. NARA Photo 520639

USS Langley, 1923, showing off those fine collier lines!

1931 Jane’s, showing a plan for the carrier Langley

Holy built-up, Batman! January 1930 photo shows USS Langley (CV 1) in drydock 2 at the Puget Sound Navy Yard

For the next 15 years, Langley served as the cradle of U.S. Naval aviation, with most of the service’s pre-WWII aviators learning their trade on her humble decks. In fact, she was the only carrier in the fleet, not to mention the hemisphere, until late 1927. She conducted several important firsts including launching and recovering the first Navy’s first rotary-wing aircraft, a Pitcairn XOP-1 autogyro, on Sept. 23, 1931.

Hangar of the USS Langley, circa 1920. She could carry as many as 42 aircraft, 30 being the average. The larger plane in the foreground is a Douglas DT torpedo bomber, with its wings removed. Other aircraft are Vought VE-7s.

Had there been no Langley, there likely would have been no Lexington, Yorktown, or Enterprise air wings in 1942. Further, five of her skippers went on to become admirals.

“Fleet Plane Carrier on Night Maneuvers,” circa 1925. Robert M. Cieri/ Thomas M. McDermott via Navsource.

Still, at the end of the day, Langley was just a collier by any other name and a slow one at that. In 1936, she was stripped of her fighters, bombers, and torpedo planes, reclassified as a seaplane tender (AV-3) and her deck cut back to less than half its former length.

USS Langley (AV-3) at anchor in 1937, near NAS Coco Solo Panama. The aircraft overflying Langley are Consolidated PBY-2s from Patrol Squadron Two (VP-2). US Navy photo via Navsource. Note the half-length deck.

When WWII started, she was forward deployed to the Philippines and dodged incoming Japanese planes on the very first day of the War in the Pacific. Escaping the PI by the skin of her teeth, she worked her way south to the Dutch East Indies where she was used by the Army to deliver a load of 32 Curtiss P-40 Warhawks of the 13th USAAF Pursuit Squadron to Java.

However, the Japanese caught up to the old girl and on 27 February 1942, left her dead in the water off Java with five bomb hits turning her into an inferno and taking 16 of her crew to the deep. Nine 4-inch shells and two torpedoes from the destroyer USS Whipple (DD-217) finished her off after her crew was offloaded to prevent her from falling into enemy hands.

Most of her crew was rescued by the fleet oiler USS Pecos (AO–6) but tragically were lost when that ship was sunk by Japanese air attack from the carriers Kaga and Soryu, 1 March.

Her sisters Nereus and Proteus? As it turned out, Langley/Jupiter outlived them both.

They were struck from the Naval List in 1940 after spending nearly two decades in mothballs. The Navy just didn’t need any colliers or, for that matter, cargo ships with corrosion and engine issues. The two were sold to Saguenay Terminals Ltd. of Montreal, Quebec on March 8 and 10th, 1941 respectively, and operated in the Canadian Merchant Navy during World War II. In the ultimate in Theremin music soundtracked creepiness on the high seas, both of these ships, like the Cyclops before them, disappeared in the Bermuda Triangle area within three weeks of each other. M/V Proteus left St. Thomas, USVI with a load of bauxite to be turned into aluminum bound for Maine on Nov. 23, 1941. M/V Nereus left the same port, with the same cargo, for the same destination, on Dec. 10th.

Neither was seen again.

While the three colliers are somewhere in Poseidon’s Bermuda flotilla, Langley‘s wreck is some 75 miles south of Tjilatjap, Indonesia while a very well-done model is on display at the National Naval Aviation Museum, Pensacola, Florida. Her name was later carried by the USS Langley (CVL-27), an 11,000-ton Independence-class aircraft carrier that served the United States Navy from 1943 to 1947. Since that ship was stricken in March 1963, there has not been a Langley on the Naval List.

She is remembered as the Covered Wagon

Specs

As collier:

http://www.shipbucket.com/images.php?dir=Real%20Designs/United%20States%20of%20America/AC-3%20Jupiter%201918.png Image via Shipbucket

Image via Shipbucket. Click to big up

Displacement: 19,000 long tons (19,000 t) full
Length: 522 ft. (159 m)
Beam: 63 ft. (19 m)
Draft: 27 ft. 8 in (8.43 m)
Speed: 15 kn (17 mph; 28 km/h)
Complement: 13 officers, 91 men, all civilians, bunks for 158
Armament: 4-4″/50 (Fitted 1916/17)

Specs: As Aircraft Carrier

http://www.shipbucket.com/images.php?dir=Real%20Designs/United%20States%20of%20America/CV-1%20Langley.png Image via Shipbucket

Image via Shipbucket. Cick to big up

Displacement:
13,900 long tons (14,100 t)
Length: 542 ft. (165.2 m)
Beam: 65 ft. 5 in (19.9 m)
Draft: 24 ft. (7.3 m)
Installed power: 7,200 shp (5,400 kW)
Propulsion: General Electric turbo-electric transmission
3 × boilers
2 × shafts
Speed: 15.5 kn (17.8 mph; 28.7 km/h)
Range: 3,500 nmi (4,000 mi; 6,500 km) at 10 kn (12 mph; 19 km/h)
Complement: 468 officers and men
Armament: 4 × 5 in (127 mm)/51 cal guns
Aircraft carried: up to 55 in tests. Typically, 36 embarked. As seaplane tender after 1936, would be responsible for 10-20 flying boats
Aviation facilities: 1 × elevator
1 × catapult

If you liked this column, please consider joining the International Naval Research Organization (INRO), Publishers of Warship International

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Warship Wednesday January 28, 2015 the Tsar’s Panther

Posted on February 4, 2015 by laststandonzombieisland 3 comments

Warship Wednesday, January 28, 2015, the Tsar’s Panther

Russian submarine Pantera, note four drop collars and two deck guns

Here we see the His Imperial Russian Highness’s Ship Pantera (Panther), a Bars-class submersible that ended up being the most successful Soviet ship of the World War I-era and to this day holds the all-Russian record for warship ‘kills.’

The Russians were quick to develop submarines, with their own early Nikonov ‘Barrel Sub’ predating the American Colonial ‘Turtle‘ by nearly a century.

Russian sub design from 1834…

When Mr. Holland’s working submersibles came out, the Tsar’s navy ordered several and by 1903 Naval architect Ivan Grigoryevich Bubnov, then 32, had designed the first all-Russian combat capable submarine, the 64-foot Delfin (Dolphin) which was rushed to the Pacific just in time for an uneventful role in the Russo-Japanese War.

Delfin– all 64-feet of Russian U-boat. She only proved dangerous to her own crews.

Well the Delfin, being a gasoline-powered boat, suffered from explosive fumes and sank at least twice in her career. This sub also took up to a dozen minutes to submerge, which was less than ideal.

Naval architect Ivan Grigoryevich Bubnov. The sub in the background was his one-off Akula (Shark). She was the world’s submarine capable of firing a multi-torpedo volley with five torpedoes. During the war, she attacked the old Küstenpanzerschiffe SMS Beowulf and in turn was sunk by a German mine.

Well between 1904-1914, Bubnov was given free rein to develop submarines, which he did; producing 11 steel sharks for the Tsar spread across four different classes, each an improvement on the last. The Russians also bought 23 German, Italian and American-built subs outright, which the design bureau crawled through and took notes from.

By early 1914, the seminal Tsarist naval design for submarines was developed, that of the 233-foot long Bars (Snow Leopard) class.

Pantera sistership Submarine Lioness note extensive drop collars and deck guns

These 24-ships carried an impressive dozen 18-inch torpedoes including four launched from internal torpedo tubes and 8 carried in external Drzewiecki drop collars. The use of drop collars, which carried a torpedo in a cradle outside of the hull and was launched from that position, was unique to Tsarist and some French subs. It was the brainchild of Stefan Drzewiecki who, before Bubnov came along, had designed a group of human-powered (think CSS Hunley) submarines.

Emperor Nicholas II is listening to the report of the Russian captain at the Baltic shipbuilding and mechanical factory

For action on the surface, a small 3-inch deck gun was mounted, as were a few smaller mounts. Unlike many subs of the day, the Bars-class was relatively fast, able to break 18-knots on the surface. Better yet, they could submerge within about 90 seconds if the 33-man crew was trained enough (more on this later.)

In all some two dozen were built, 18 by the Baltic Shipyard, St. Petersburg or Noblessner Yard, Reval (Estonia) for use by the Baltic Fleet, and another half dozen by the Nikolayev Navy Yard for use on the Black Sea.

The thing is, Russia’s submarine crews, being new to the game, were very inexperienced.

After all, when these 24 new subs came out, they more than doubled the Russian underwater fleet, which had only existed for a scant decade. In fact, many of the older boats were laid up to help provide crews while sailors were often cross-decked to help fill out rosters just before a patrol. There just was not the wealth of operational experience for these new craft. They did, however, have one of the world’s first submarine tender/rescue ships, the catamaran Volkov (which is still in service a 100-years later).

When WWI broke out, these ships sortied against the German fleet (in the Baltic) and the Turks (in the Black) but didn’t chalk up many victories. The Russians only pulled off 14 combat patrols in 1914, which resulted in no kills.

When several British E-class subs snuck into the Baltic and set up operations, and the Russian officers started emulating the Brits, even going out on (successful) RN patrols sinking German steamers off Sweden, things grew more aggressive. This led to no less than 50 (unsuccessful) torpedo attacks on German cruisers SMS Lubeck, Pillau, and Konigsberg without a hit. However, the Bars-class was modified to carry eight M-08 sea mines on deck and as such helped expand the mine belt in the Baltic.

1916 was a better year for the Bars-class, with the Volk (Wolf) sinking at least four small steamers on the Sweden-to-Germany ore run while the Vepr (Boar) took a fifth. It was in this “Golden Age of Tsarist Submarine ops” that Pantera was commissioned. She conducted only three short combat patrols that year before being iced in at Revel.

Pantera, note large vent for running diesel on surface and only one deck gun (the 75mm) a smaller 37mm gun was fitted later.

Pantera, note large vent for running diesel on the surface and only one deck gun (the 75mm) a smaller 37mm gun was fitted later.

The year 1917, which led to a revolution in Holy Russia, found the Bars-class subs flying red flags from their towers, but still kinda operational. In June of that year, Pantera became the only Russian submarine to be attacked by an airship, when a German naval Zeppelin saw her on the surface and dropped a couple smallish bombs that slightly damaged her.

These boats had to be careful, as they had not a single watertight bulkhead, which meant that any hole in the casing was fatal.

“Volk” (“Wolf”) and “Bars” (“Leopard”) iced in at Reval, 1916. Note the lack of torpedoes in drop collars. An enduring problem with the Russian Baltic fleet is that they are locked into their harbors from December-March.

While these subs were getting better, the class paid a heavy butcher’s bill in turn.

While on combat patrols, the Bars herself was lost 25 May 1917, as was sistership Lvitsa (Lioness) just three weeks later; the first to German surface ships, the second by mines. Edinorog (Unicorn) was lost to a mine while trying to avoid oncoming German Army troops in the general collapse on the Eastern Front in Feb. 1918.

Speaking of advances, all six Black-sea Bars boats were captured by the Germans at the time at their slips in Odessa. Turned over to the British at the end of WWII and then given to the White Russian forces, four were scuttled when the White evacuated Odessa to the oncoming Red Army in 1919 and shipped out two last survivors, Utka (Duck) and Burvestnik (Petrel) to French-controlled North Africa where they remained a fleet in being until 1924 when their benefactors ordered them scrapped.

Pantera with her decks awash. Very good view of her two guns, 75mm forward, 37mm high-angle aft. A third smaller deck gun is located on her sail area.

Back in the Baltic, when 1918 came, Pantera, like the rest of the survivors of her class in the Baltic, was sitting frozen in the ice at Kronstadt. There, they remained largely inoperable while their crews were plundered for volunteers to fight in the ongoing Russian Civil War on the side of the Reds. Of the dozen or so now-Soviet subs at Kronstadt when the spring thaw of 1919 came, just two, Pantera and the steamer-killer Volk, were capable of putting to sea.

And they did just that when the Royal Navy came steaming into the Gulf of Finland as part of the Allied Intervention in the civil war.

Sortieing in late July, the red banner submarine of the people’s navy came across His Majesty’s Submarine, E-40, and traditionally, was unsuccessful. However, on 31 August 1919, Pantera stalked two British warships, including the brand-new 1300-ton Admiralty V-class destroyer HMS Vittoria (F-96) off the island of Seiskari in the Gulf of Finland.

Vittoria

Hunting the British ship, she spent 28 hours underwater before getting close enough to Vittoria to spit two torpedoes from her bow tubes. One hit her mark and Vittoria blew up then went down in 75 feet of water– extremely shallow for submarine operations.

The sinking of the HMS Vittoria

This was the first warship sunk by a Russian submarine and no less than 18 members of the crew, over half, were decorated. This included 24-year old commander Alexander Bakhtin, who cut his teeth on the Volk sinking steamers during the Great War, and 25-year old engineer Aksel Ivanovich Berg, who served with the British E-class subs. Bakhtin, who fell out of favor in the 1920s, died an early death after five years in the gulag while Berg died as a retired Admiral in 1979, a noted scientist who made advances in radio communications, microelectronics, and cybernetics.

The boat herself, renamed Kommisar (hull #5), was awarded the Order of the Red Banner, and kept as a training vessel in the Baltic Fleet. She was rebuilt in 1924, losing her drop collars and picking up a more modern above deck structure as did seven of her sisters.

Pantera after the refit.

She remained as a training ship in the Baltic Fleet into the late 1930s, treasured for her role in the Civil War, while her remaining sisters were scrapped. As such, she was the first Soviet submarine equipped with a then-experimental passive sonar array.

Pantera-crew 1935. At the time she was the last operational Tsarist-era submarine and the ‘grand old lady’ of the fleet

Largely hulked during WWII where she served as a battery charging barge for newer subs, she remained afloat until at least 1955 when she was scrapped after nearly 40-years of service to Tsar Nicholas, Lenin, and Stalin– all of which she outlived!

Her and her class, however, were recognized by the Soviets as being the basis for their enormous submarine fleet.

Evolution of Soviet subs from 1914-1955 with Bars-class at top

In 2007, Bakhtin, now famous decades after his death in obscurity, had a plaque installed in St. Petersburg that celebrates both him and the Pantera. The latter’s name was reissued to a modern submarine, an Akula-class SSN, hull number K-317. That very dangerous vessel is still part of the Russian Northern Fleet.

Bakhtin marker, which also serves as a monument to Pantera

And the Vittoria? She was given as a gift to Finland, whose territorial waters she rests in, by the British government in the 1920s, but the Finns passed on salvaging her. In 2013, a Russian diving club found her broken hull and left a marker.

Specs:

Bars class model by http://www.modelshipgallery.com/gallery/ss/ru/bars-700-vy/bars.html Vladimir Yakubov

Bars class model by Vladimir Yakubov

Displacement: 650 tons surfaced, 780 tons submerged
Length: 68 m (223 ft. 1 in)
Beam: 4.5 m (14 ft. 9 in)
Draft: 3.9 m (12 ft. 10 in)
Propulsion: Diesel-electric
2,640 hp diesel
900 hp electric
2 shafts
Speed: 18 knots (33 km/h) surfaced
9 knots (17 km/h) submerged
Range: 400 nmi (740 km)
Complement: 33
Armament: 1 × 75mm (3.0 in) gun
1 × 37 mm (1.5 in) AA gun
4 × 457 mm (18.0 in) torpedo tubes
8 × torpedoes in drop collars (later removed)

If you liked this column, please consider joining the International Naval Research Organization (INRO), Publishers of Warship International.

They are possibly one of the best sources of naval study, images, and fellowship you can find http://www.warship.org/

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I’m a member, so should you be!

Warship Wednesday January 28, 2015: The Lucky Okie

Posted on January 28, 2015 by laststandonzombieisland 6 comments

Warship Wednesday January 28, 2015: The Lucky Okie

Here we see the forward 6″/47 (15.2 cm) Mark 16 mount of the Cleveland-class light cruiser (guided missile) USS Oklahoma City (CL-91/CLG-5/CG-5) dropping it like its hot on the heads of Viet Cong forces, “somewhere off the coast of South Vietnam,” in an August 1965 LIFE Magazine cover. At the time the 21-year old Okie Boat, as she was known, was one of the last WWII-era ‘gun cruisers” still afloat but she had been brought into the Atomic-era as a hybrid missile slinger and for nearly a generation served as the “Fighting Flagship” of the U.S. Navy’s Seventh Fleet in the Western Pacific, often coming in close just like this to rain fire and brimstone when called.

She was part of the large and successful USS Cleveland (CL-55) class of light cruisers during WWII. Originally planned to be some 52-ships strong, 9 were carved off to become USS Independence class light carriers, while about half of the others were canceled as the end of the war was fast approaching. These were mighty “10,000-ton” designed light cruisers capable of making 32-knots while cruising some 14,500 nm at half that to reach those out-of-the-way Pacific battlegrounds without stopping for gas.

USS Oklahoma City (CLG 5) View of the ship’s 6″/47 guns. Photograph was received in August 1972 and was probably taken during naval gunfire support operations off Vietnam earlier in that year as the paint on the gun barrels is charred and blistered from the heat of firing. Official U.S. Navy Photograph, from the collections of the Naval Historical Center #NH 98680.

Packing a dozen Mk.16 guns in four triple turrets each protected by 6-inches of armor themselves) these rapid-fire guns could bring an incredible amount of pain to enemy warships and land forces in a short time. As noted in prewar tests with these mounts, during gunnery trials in March 1939, USS Savannah (CL-42) fired 138 6-inch rounds in one minute. When you keep in mind that each of these guns fired a 130-lb. shell to 26,118 yards at maximum elevation, that’s pretty strong medicine. To augment this, these ships also carried a dozen 5-inch DP guns as well as an impressive AAA suite.

USS Oklahoma City (CL 91) Underway in the Delaware River, while operating out of the Philadelphia Navy Yard, Pennsylvania, 9 April 1945. Courtesy of the U.S. Naval Institute, Annapolis, Maryland. Collection of James C. Fahey. Official U.S. Navy Photograph, from the collections of the Naval Historical Center #NH 95753.

Oklahoma City (as CL-91) was laid down 8 December 1942 by the Cramp Shipbuilding Co., Philadelphia, Pa. She was finally commissioned 22 Dec. 1944, with just nine months left in the World War. Rushing to the Pacific, she joined Carrier Task Group 38.1 by June 1945 and saw some hot service off Okinawa and in Japan’s home waters just before the end of the war. In the first of a stream of luck, she suffered no wartime casualties and won a battle star for her service.

With a surplus of ships and a shrinking Navy, the gently used cruiser was mothballed 30 June 1947 where she sat for the next decade, often surrounded by her sisterships.

While many of her sisters never saw active service again, the Okie was far luckier. In 1957, she began a three-year conversion to a guided missile cruiser to fire the gigantic Talos long-range surface-to-air missile system. Two of her sisters, Galveston (CL-93/CLG-3) and Little Rock (CL-92/CLG- 4), both ironically also built by Cramp, were similarly converted. This conversion consisted of removing the two aft 6-inch mounts and their magazines to make room for the two-armed bandit Talos system and a below-deck magazine for 46 of the comically large (38-foot long 7800-pound) Bendix RIM-8 missiles. These beasts, to include a RIM-8D W30 nuclear-warhead version, could make Mach 2.2 and reach out to 100 nm– that made them among the best SAMs of the era.

Talos missiles on CG-5 USS Oklahoma City 1979. These things are huge! Photo Courtsey of then-ET1 John Andresen. His blog is yokosukasasebojapan.wordpress.com

Forward of the bridge, the No.2 6-inch mount was replaced by a twin 5-inch DP to help offset the weight of all the added surface search radars, fire control directors and commo gear. Much of her WWII armament, such as the 20mm guns, and gear were ditched. Gone were her seaplanes, which had been retired a decade earlier anyway, and their catapults, replaced by deck space and refueling facilities for naval helicopters. Below decks, she (and Little Rock) was given extra room and facilities to support a fleet flag operation.

All these extras pushed the boat to some 14,000-tons, which included additional ballast to help fight that 113-foot above deck height, all of which resulted in awful hogging in high seas and an increased draft to the near battleship-worthy 26-feet of seawater.

Underway, Showing general details of missile conversion rebuild

Port bow view while underway, date and location unknown photo by Charles Lamm via Navsource. Note the twin 5-inch mount forward and the huge radar masts.

Recommissioned 7 Sept 1960, she became 7th Fleet flagship at Yokosuka, Japan that Christmas Eve. It was a job she would keep for much of her second career.

From the Gulf of Tonkin include in August 1964 to the evacuation of Saigon in April 1975, she spent the majority of those ten+ years somewhere between the coastline of Vietnam, delivering gunfire support, and Yankee Station, providing air defense for the carriers stationed there.

Six inch 47 caliber guns in action, date unknown photo by Craig Chaddock

USS Oklahoma City 6 Inch Guns firing. Photo From Okie Boat.com

While Talos missiles splashed three North Vietnamese MIGs during the conflict, these came from other cruisers and not the Okie boat. She herself survived an attack by two MIG-17s on 19 April 1972.

Her missiles did draw some significant blood however when she conducted the first surface-to-surface war shot in Navy history, destroying a NVA air control radar with a Talos RIM-8H anti-radar homing missile from fifty miles offshore.

Port quarter view, underway in Sydney Harbor, Austrailia, late 1970s Barry A. Seward via navsource

Port quarter view, underway in Sydney Harbor, Australia, late 1970s Barry A. Seward via Navsource. Note the Sea King on her pad.

In all she earned 13 battle stars for Vietnam and by 1975, at age thirty, the lucky penny was well-worn but, with all of the other big gun ships of her era turned to scrap or laid up, she was an interesting niche. However, even having the 6-inch hood ornament only went so far.

USS Oklahoma City CG-5 visiting Singapore in 1979. The old girl was the ultimate flag-waver around the Western Pacific from 1960-79. Note how small the huge 55-foot long SH-3H Sea King helicopter looks when compared to the Talos launcher on her stern . Courtsey of then-ET1 John Andresen. His blog is yokosukasasebojapan.wordpress.com

Her class had all been decommissioned by 1976 and her Talos missile system, designed in the 50s, was an Edsel in a world of AMC Pacers. Oklahoma City‘s last designation, applied at this time, was to simply drop the “L” from her hull number, making her CG-5.

Moored at Pearl Harbor, HI, 18 October 1979 with friendship lights lit. The “Okie Boat” was on her way to San Diego for decommissioning after serving as Flagship of the Seventh Fleet for eleven years. This picture was taken from the roof of the old Enlisted Barracks, which has since been torn down. Photo by Tom Bateman via Navsource.

She had one more thing to before being decommissioned.

A view of a Talos surface-to-air guided missile, moments after being launched from the starboard side of the guided missile cruiser USS OKLAHOMA CITY (CG 5) at the Pacific Missile Test Range. This is the final firing of the Talos missile by the United States Navy conducted on 1 Nov 1979 National Archive# NN33300514 2005-06-30 by PH1 DAVID C. MACLEAN.

By 15 December 1979, she was decommissioned, the last WWII-era cruiser in the U.S. Navy on active service, and remained in mothballs for twenty years, contributing many of her parts to help recondition WWII era museum ships around the country.

She spent 1979-99 in layup on red lead row. It was speculated by the Lehman-Reagan Navy of the 1980s of reactivating her for a third tour but funds were never allocated. After 1989 ,with the Cold War over, it became open season on the salvage of minor parts for museum donation that went to help outfit her sister Little Rock as well as the USS Missouri.

Finally, she was towed to deep water in February 1999 and subjected to a series of target shoots by U.S. and Allied fleets.

The battered 44-year old was sent to the bottom by a final merciful SUT torpedo coup de grâce from the South Korean Navy Chang Bogo Type 209/1200 Submarine Lee Chun (SS-062) on 26 March 1999. Let us face it; she belonged in the 20th Century and it was better this way than to have her turned to scrap.

Under attack and taking water, her keel is broken

Broken in two and headed to the bottom.

The memory of the “Fighting Flagship” is maintained by the Okieboat website as well as the USS OK City Association.

As for her sisters, most of them had been long scrapped in the 1950s and 60s. Only three survived into the disco era, USS Springfield (CL-66/CLG-7/CG-7) who was decommissioned in 1974 and sold for scrap in 1980, USS Providence (CL–82/CLG-6/CG-6) who shared the same fate and timeline, and USS Little Rock (CL-92/CLG-4/CG-4) who was decommissioned in 1976 and is now a museum ship at Buffalo and Erie County Naval & Military Park.

USS Little Rock, the only ship of her kind that was given the same conversion as the OKC. She is a museum ship in Buffalo New York. Photo by Wiki

Please visit her if you have a chance.

Specs

As commissioned, WWII, Image by Ship Bucket

At end of service post missile modification Image by Ship Bucket

Displacement: 10,000 designed, 14,100 full load final
Length: 610 ft. 1 in
Beam: 66 ft. 2 in
Draft: 24 ft. 10 in, 26+ post conversion
Height above waterline: 113 feet
Propulsion: Four Babcock & Wilcox, 634 psi boilers
Four GE geared steam turbines, 100,000 hp (74,570 kW) total, 4 shafts
Speed: 32.5 as designed, 31.6 knots post conversion, 25 post-1975
Complement: 992 designed, 1255 actual (WWII) 1,426 post conversion
Armament (as completed):

12 Mk.16 6 inch guns (4 × 3)
12 5 in/38 cal gun (6 × 2)
28 40 mm Bofors guns (4 × 4, 6 × 2)
10 20 mm Oerlikons cannons
Aircraft carried: Four seaplanes launched from two catapults

(Post Conversion)
• 3 × 6 in (152 mm) guns in 1 Mark 16 turret
• 2 × 5 in/38 cal guns in 1 Mark 32 mount
• 1 × twin-rail Mark 7 Talos SAM launcher, 46 missiles
Aircraft carried: Kaman SH-2B Seasprite (1964–1972) SH-2H Sea King (1975–79) helicopter (Call Sign: Blackbeard 1)

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laststandonzombieisland

Weapons, Wars, Preparation and Security from a recovering gun nut turned bad writer

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