radioman

Radioman

Visite des 4 sous-marins retraités de la classe Oberon à Halifax le 24 janvier 2006

Photos taken on January 24, 2006. It was heartbreaking to see those magnificent Oberon submarines rusting away in Halifax Harbour and waiting for disposal. From the jetty outward, you see Canadian submarines HMCS OKANAGAN and HMCS OJIBWA, British submarine HMS OLYMPUS and Canadian submarine HMCS ONONDAGA.

All inside photos were taken onboard the ONONDAGA. The last 8 photos were taken inside my little domain, the Radio Shack, also known as the Wireless Office or the W/T Office.

Scroll down to view the photos and my comments

Photo above - OKANAGAN, OJIBWA, OLYMPUS AND ONONDAGA

Photo above - Looking up the forward hatch on the ONONDAGA

Photo above - Bunks in the gangway near the forward hatch. Not much space between the bunks. We slept in sleeping bags. We had to be careful when sleeping on the lower bunk. If an arm was stretched out during our sleep, there was always a danger that someone would walk on it.

Photo above - Lockers inside the middle bunk. Only one locker belonged to whoever had the middle bunk. The other lockers belonged to others. Hard to get at when someone was sleeping in the middle bunk. Note the limited space to the upper bunk. Turning in bed was sometimes a challenge. Note the light and the air fan which blew in our faces and gave us a feeling of fresh air while sleeping. When snorkeling in the North Atlantic, cold damp air would circulate throughout the boat and we curled up inside our warm sleeping bags. If the snorkel dipped below the surface a few times while we were sleeping, the change in air pressure sometimes woke us up with sharp ear aches.

Photo above - Inside the forward mess, looking at the hatch separating the forward mess from the forward torpedo room. The forward mess is where I spent most of my time when I was not on duty or sleeping. OKANAGAN had a dining room for the men but ONONDAGA and OJIBWA did not. Those of us who slept in the forward section of the boat also ate and played cards in the forward mess. I drank all my tots there. The tot was a ration of 2.5 ounces of 151 proof rum which was served daily before lunch while at sea. It was a tradition of the British Royal Navy which was carried over into the Royal Canadian Navy when it was formed in 1910. I still remember that fateful day, on March 30th, 1972, when the Canadian Navy discontinued this tradition. What a sad day it was when they dumped the left over rum in Halifax harbour. One thing to point out. Whileat sea, I never drank my tot when I had the afternoon watch, which was every third day.

Photo above - Stepping inside the forward torpedo room and looking forward toward the six torpedo tubes. The hanging rope was there to help us keep our balance as we stepped down into the room. The ladder in the forefront goes up to the torpedo loading hatch. The harnesses on each side were used to secure the torpedoes. This is the biggest compartment accessible to men in the submarine so the forward torpedo room was used as a cinema while at sea. The movie projector was installed just to the right of the rope and the movie screen was installed over by the forward torpedo tubes. Men sat on torpedoes, on the deck or anywhere to watch the movie.

Photo above - Here I am, back on boats after 33 years of absence. This was an emotional moment as I sat there with my head full of memories. I would have loved to wear my old uniform that day but it does not fit anymore. I wonder why. The uniform must have shrunk. I am presently sitting in the after section of the forward torpedo room. You can see the forward mess through the hatch.

Photo above - The six forward torpedo tubes. Imagine the pressure on one of those babies at a depth of 600 feet. There was a mechanism to prevent the breech door from opening when the muzzle door was open, or vice versa. If both doors opened while submerged, the submarine would be doomed. With such a large opening to the sea, there would be no time to shut all watertight doors.

Photo above - Looking up, you can see the forward escape hatch. It could be used to escape with the assistance of a DSRV (Deep Submarine Rescue Vehicle) attached to the sub on the outside. This method of escaping was possible only if we were found and if the angle of the sub was not too steep to allow the DSRV to attach itself to the submarine. There were also two other methods of escaping the submarine. One person at a time through the escape lock, or everybody at the same time by flooding the compartment, equalizing the pressure, opening the escape hatch and going up to the surface while exhaling all the way. When using this last method, everyone had a breathing apparatus connected to the B.I.B.S. system and were able to breathe underwater and to advance toward the escape hatch while waiting their turn to exit the submarine. As mentioned, exhaling all the way to the surface was important. This was not a controlled ascent with a pressure regulator as experienced by scuba divers. The pressure was equalized before leaving the submarine, so the air pressure in your lungs were equal to outside pressure at the depth you were. Failure to continuously exhale all the way to the surface would have resulted in death as the lungs expanded.

Photo above - Still facing the forward torpedo tubes but looking down at the deck. You can see where some of the torpedoes where stored on each side. Some of the men would use that space to exercise while at sea. I remember we had a stationary bike kept there on the OKANAGAN.

Photo above - I have now turned around and the forward torpedo tubes are behind me. You can see the ladder going up to the forward torpedo loading hatch. You can also see the hatch going into the forward mess, the hanging rope behind the ladder and the seat where I sat earlier.

Photo above - Walking aft in the forward torpedo room, you can now see the braces strengthening the forward torpedo loading hatch above the ladder. Because of the angle of the torpedo loading hatch, the hull was weakened there and braces were used to make the hull stronger. Someone told me that putting pennies between the braces and the hull before diving to a depth of 600 feet would result in flattened pennies due to high pressure and compression of the steel hull. I never tried it but I believe it. It is hard to imagine that a hull made up of steel would compress due to pressure. A submarine always tries to achieve neutral buoyancy and many factors can affect it. A submarine that has a neutral buoyancy at a depth of 100 feet must pump out water when diving to 600 feet otherwise it becomes too heavy and negatively buoyant. This is because the steel hull contracts as the submarine goes deeper and displaces less water. The process must be reversed as the submarine rises and water must be pumped in to add weight inside the sub and maintain a neutral buoyancy.

Photo above - Bunks in the Chief & Petty Officers Mess.

Photo above - The garbage ejector near the galley. It was used to get rid of garbage while submerged. The principles which applied when operating a torpedo tube also applied when operating the garbage ejector. After inserting garbage bags, the tube had to be flooded and pressure had to equalized to the outside. After the garbage had been ejected, the process was reversed and the tube was vented inside the submarine. Similar to torpedo tubes, a safety mechanism was in place to prevent the opening of outside and inside doors at the same time.

Photo above - The galley. We eat good in the Royal Canadian Navy. Even on submarines, I never had a complaint about the food. I remember serving in the Standing Naval Forces Atlantic for NATO when I was on destroyer HMCS Gatineau before volunteering for submarine service. We had American, British, Dutch, French and German ships working with us and we regularly exchanged sailors during exercises. Sailors from the other Navies wanted to come over to the Canadian ship because of the food. The French ship was popular for the wine onboard and the Dutch ship had pop machines full of Heineken beer but they were short of fresh milk which we had plenty on the Canadian ship. You can imagine the exchange that sometimes took place.

Photo above - Standing outside the galley and looking aft through the hatch. The officer's wardroom is to the left of the gangway. The end of the gangway is the entrance to the control room.

Photo above - Inside the officer's wardroom

Photo above - The sonar room.The "ears" of the submarine. If you have watched the movie "The Hunt for Red October", you know how important Sonarmen are on submarines. Remember the efforts of Sonarman 2nd Class Ronald "Jonesey" Jones onboard USS Dallas as he uses his skills and talents to detect the man-made noise from Red October's new propulsion system. I would say that some of our Sonarmen in the First Canadian Submarine Squadron were of same caliber as Jonesey.

Photo above - This is where the submarine movements were controlled hydraulically. Depth of the submarine was controlled by moving the forward hydroplanes. The angle of the submarine was controlled by moving the after hydroplanes. Port and starboard movements were controlled by moving the rudder. All of these movements were controlled simultaneously by one man. He had quite a challenge when snorkeling in heavy seas to recharge the batteries at periscope depth. The diesel engines took their air inside the submarine and there was no problem as long as the snorkel was kept above the surface. Whenever the snorkel dipped below the surface, the air being sucked in by the diesel engines would not be replaced through the snorkel and air pressure would quickly go down inside the submarine. If the man controlling the movements of the submarine was unable to quickly bring back the snorkel above the surface, emergency shut down of the diesel was required before air pressure was reduced to a dangerous level.

Photo above - Looking aft from the control room. You can see the hatch going into the engine room at the other end. The wood frames on your right are the heads (or washrooms). On your left is the S/HF/DF mast and the Snorkel Induction Mast.

Photo above - This is the hydraulic control to raise and lower the Communications Mast, used for HF ship-to-shore radio communications as well as VHF and UHF communications with other ships and aircrafts. This lever was located just outside the Wireless Office door.

Photo above - Here it is again. The hydraulic control located outside the Wireless Office door to raise and lower the Communications Mast.

Photo above - The famous Emergency Flap Valve to prevent water from entering through the diesel engine exhaust system. To minimize detection, the exhaust mast was always kept underwater to prevent smoke from rising into the air. Constant exhaust pressure was maintained to prevent sea water from entering via the exhaust system. If pressure dropped and water started coming in, the Emergency Flap Valve would automatically shut to prevent a disaster. It was located just outside the Wireless Office where I worked and it made quite a bang when it automatically shut down. It took a while to get used to the noise. The Emergency Flap Valve could also be shut manually if required.

The next 8 photos were taken inside my little domain, the Radio Shack, also known as the Wireless Office or the W/T Office

Photo above - The access door to the Radio Shack. It was a restricted area. The little domain of the Radiomen, also known as Sparkers. This is the place where I spent most of my time in submarines. Top Secret security clearance was required to enter. In addition to Radio Sparkers, people who were allowed to enter were the Captain, the Communications Officer and the P.O. Tel (also known as POTS). The P.O. Tel (Petty Officer Telecommunication) was the Radio Sparkers's immediate boss. Note CGNQ on the door. It was ONONDAGA's call sign when using morse code. The call sign for voice transmission was " Voyage Pride ". Shipmates who had business with Sparkers knocked on the door and waited. Messages (and hot coffee) were passed on to the sparkers through the little door.

Photo above - Another view of the access door to the Radio Shack. Ship-to-shore radio messages were sent and received on the surface or at periscope depth by raising the communications mast. Radio Sparkers were the only ones onboard in contact with the outside world. So when we came up to copy our radio schedules, we also copied radioteletype news services when we had the time. A good time for this was when we snorkeled and recharged the batteries. The communications mast was raised most of that time when at periscope depth and we caught up on the news for the crew onboard. Of special interest were hockey scores, especially during the playoffs. Whenever we could, a news bulletin was printed in multiple copies using baudot tapes from the teletype machine and was distributed throughout the submarine. But all of this was impossible whenever we stayed submerged for long periods of time. We had limited VLF receiving capabilities when submerged and HF reception as well as ship-to-shore radio communications were impossible. Unless we were on a special stealth or spy mission, a submarine check report had to be sent every 72 hours to advise HQ that we were OK. On many occasions, the Captain would bring the submarine to periscope depth and would order that the communications mast be raised quickly and the check report be sent as quickly as possible. Once the message was acknowledged by the shore station, the submarine quickly went back to the deep to continue its mission.

Photo above - The access door to the Radio Shack is now open and I am looking into the Wireless Office while standing in the gangway with the heads (washroom) in my back.

Photo above - I have now entered the Radio Shack and I have turned around to look at the Heads across the gangway. Being so close to the Heads had some good and bad points. It was good because if you had to go urgently and there was nobody to replace you, all you had to do is keep both doors open and do "your thing" while keeping an eye on the Radio Shack. The bad thing happened once a day. Being on a submarine, human waste was kept into a tank and had to be emptied daily. The process included shutting some valves, equalizing the pressure, opening other valves, blowing the waste out, and reversing the process. The problem was the venting of the tank at the end of the process. The aroma which was released inside the submarine sometimes reached the Radio Shack due to its proximity. There was also another problem which affected the users of the Heads when venting was not done properly at the end of the process. There was a flap valve inside the toilet bowl which was open with your foot after you had done your business so you could flush the waste into the tank using a manual hose. Imagine someone opening the valve with his foot when high pressure is still in the tank. You can imagine the results. Not a pleasant experience. It was a good thing that the access door to the Radio Shack was kept shut at all times.

Photo above - I am now standing inside the Radio Shack with the access door on my right and looking aft. A lot of the radio equipment is gone but some is still there. This equipment is from the 1990s and completely different from what I was using in the late 1960s and early 1970s. Morse code and teletype were the two main modes of ship-to-shore radio communications back then. The world of satellite communications had not yet arrived.

Photo above - Same view as before but looking down at the operating desk. This is where I sat with a tape recorder between my legs to record morse code transmissions at 100 words per minute. It would allow us to quickly copy our schedule and return to the deep where the tape was slowed down so I could copy the morse code at 25 words per minute. The safe containing secret documents was located in the same spot as the safe in this photo. The equipment rack to the right of the safe was not there in my days. This is the spot where the cryptographic equipment was located to decode morse code messages. Decoding morse code messages was basically the same process as used by Germans during World War II with their enigma machines. There was no need to decode teletype messages since it was transmitted in a secure mode with decoding devices incorporated in the receiving equipment. Above my head, to the left, was the control for the Collins ARC-552 UHF transceiver used to communicate with aircrafts and ships. This transceiver was mostly used by the Captain and Officers in the Control Room or on the bridge via remote sets. Above my head to the right was the control for the Collins MF/HF 618-T Transceiver. This transceiver was used mostly for morse code ship-to-shore radio communications and SSB communications with surface ships and other submarines.

Photo above - Another view of the equipment rack, aft of the operating desk, where the cryptographic equipment was located in the 1960s and 1970s.

Photo above - I have now turned around and I am looking forward. The operating desk is on my right and the access door on my left. Going back to the 1960s and 1970s, the Model 28 teletype equipment and the shredder was located to the right as well as an intercom system for the submarine. Being in control of the music onboard was not always pleasant. I was accused at one time of playing The Beatles too often. The equipment racks to the left contained the Collins URC-32 HF transceiver used mainly for teletype radio communications, but also used for morse code and SSB transmissions. There was also an equipment rack on the left, closer to the operating desk, which had two Racal RA-17 VLF/LF/MF/HF receivers as well as radioteletype and facsimile equipment, additional crypto gear, and direction finding equipment.

I have so many memories of those days on submarines. Here are a few...

I recall one time when the Commander of the Fleet was onboard for a few days during an exercise in the Caribbeans. Apparently, there was a deserted island used by the surface fleet for bombing practice and someone had bombed the wrong location and had created a diplomatic incident. Pierre Elliott Trudeau, the Prime Minister of Canada, was standing by to talk to the Commander of the Fleet and I used the Collins URC-32 HF transceiver to establish communications with the Prime Minister via CFS Mill Cove.

I also remember that day, in October 1970, when the War Measures Act was declared. We were submerged at sea and we came up around 5 AM to snorkel, charge the batteries and pass radio traffic. This is when I learned about the War Measures Act. Being at sea, we were not 100% up-to-date on what was happening in Montreal, and I had no clue what the War Measures Act was all about. So when I saw the message, I concluded that Canada was at war, and I rushed to wake up the Captain and inform him of the situation. The Captain quickly concluded that the submarine, in the middle of the North Atlantic, was not in imminent danger of being attacked by the FLQ.

I remember another time when the submarine had surfaced near Puerto Rico between two exercises and we went for a swim under the watchful eyes of shipmates armed with FN rifles and watching out for sharks. The Captain had decided to have a meeting topside after the swim and the last person from the after ends entering the control room had closed the hatch to the engine room. When the time came to go back to the after ends, the hatch had jammed and could not be open. Here we were, at sea, and no access to the engine room, the motor room and the after ends. It took a while to smash the glass in the centre of the hatch and to get the hatch open. In the meantime, I had an emergency message ready to go in case the hatch could not be open. The Captain seemed quite relieved when he told me to tear up the message.

I remember one time being sick as the submarine was entering St. Georges, Bermuda for the weekend. My situation worsened over the weekend and I was quite sick as we left port on Monday morning. The sea was rough that day and we stayed on the surface for most of the day. In the afternoon, the Captain requested a Radio Sparker to the bridge with the aldis lamp to communicate by light to a U.S. submarine on the surface. I spent a long time on the bridge sending morse code by lamp while being drenched by big waves of water ( a bit like that scene in Das Boot when two U-boats meet on the surface in stormy weather). By the end of the day, I was delirious and my fever had skyrocketed. We were now facing a hurricane and the submarine went deep to escape the weather. I didn't know at the time but my situation had developed into a pneumonia. I could not be evacuated due to the weather. I don't remember what happened to me over the next two days. I was delirious and continuously being washed down to control my temperature. I finally came around and spent the rest of the trip recovering in my bunk. Hospital tests later revealed that I had suffered a pneumonia. I was told that, while delirious, I had said some "not very nice things" to the XO (Executive Officer), so I went to apologize to him, just in case....

Those were the days...............

To be continued................