Midshipman OPS: 4th Year Cruise

In the time frame of about 1976, or so, the SOP for FBM operations shifted to that of a more 'liberal' nature.

My command at that time, the USS Simon Bolivar SSBN 641, had changed Home ports. We were now Home ported in Charleston, S.C. from Rota, Spain. And I couldn't have been happier about it.

I lived only about 10 miles from the Naval Weapons Station, in Hanahan, S.C. Not far from North Charleston.

And as with anything good the military does, it comes with a mouthful of nasty.

Our crew had the boat for the first return to a U.S. home port. And our C.O. was obviously, some one special. Not just in the eyes of the crew, but in those of the higher ups of the Atlantic Fleet.

Our patrol was cut short. Largely believed to be a blessing by all, so we could complete the transatlantic cruise and participate in some 'Special Operations.' Not to be confused with SpecOps.

No, these 'Special Operations' were a sort of PAO, to my knowledge, previously unheard of in FBM lore. Public Affairs Orientations.

We were to participate in Middie Mini-cruises for 4th Year Annapolis students. If I remember correctly, for about 3 weeks we took Midshipmen to Sea for 2 and a half days at a time. We'd meet a Tug Boat up the Cooper River close to the lower Naval Base where the surface Navy was kept, and we'd do personnel transfers of about 30 or so Midshipmen off of and then onto the Boat.

We kept topside rigged for the duration of the cruises, for safety.

The idea was to give potential Submarine officer candidates a taste of life at sea on one of the most powerful vessels in the world.

Each middie was going to get to eat, sleep and roam around the Boat, forward of frame 85 for a whole 2 days and several hours. Providing them with answers to their questions, two thirds of the crew remained on board on Port and Starboard duty. The other third got liberty and was transferred with middies to and from the Tug Boat every 2 and a half days.

We'd go out past 'buoy 2 Charlie' into the dive area past 100 fathom curve and dive the Boat. Of course, A Division never stopped for a second during these operations.
With that many Middies on board, the showers were in continuous use. The heads were standing room only. Sanitary Tank #1 was blown on every dive and San#2 was pumped twice a day.
That kept the Air compressors running non stop. We drilled constantly to demonstrate the capabilities of the crew. We'd pressurize the boat before we would proceed to normal patrol depth with the LP Blower. Normal Blows were short, just to demonstrate the procedure and then the Blower was used to empty the Main Ballast tanks.

The Aux Forward was assigned at least 1 middie as a UI, in theory. We would pass on all of the information required to qualify that watch position as best we could. Believe me, they didn't leave with very much knowledge. It was coming at them at Full Speed. In one ear and out the other.

But there was one more interesting thing, we had 3 middies assigned for the Patrol. They were charged with qualifying and standing specific watch stations. You want 3 guesses?
Diving officer of the Watch and Chief of the Watch UI. So the Diving officer could go into 8 or 10 section duty. What ever it was.

During their quals they were charged with learning the Aux Forward duties to better understand the nature of the responsibilities of the Dive.

I had my middie in tow as I acknowledged the order to "prepare to Blow San1".

I ran down to lower level. I hung the signs on all of the enlisted heads, went up to the CPO quarters and hung the signs in there. Then to the Wardroom and the CO/XO stateroom heads and did the same. And ran back down to LLOPs to man the SP phones and begin the process.

San1 is the tank where all human waste, forward of the Missile compartment goes. Human waste is notoriously corrosive. And the bellows for the San1 capacity gauge would last normally about a year before needing to be replaced again. Something done in port.
When it wasn't working the only way to determine how full the tank was, was to view the contents from the most inboard crapper through the ball valve using a flashlight. This was important data for compensation purposes, unless you wanted to surface the Boat by unloading all of that weight and not replacing it. Which was always a no-no.

I had already done that and communicated that data to the Dive, hence the order to blow SAN1. No one liked doing this job.
Immediately outside of the Port head on the centerline of the Boat was the Snakepit. From where we would configure the piping and operate the valves to blow the SAN1 tank.

I was in the Snake Pit and my middie UI was right there with me. It's pretty tight alone in there, but with two, its a crowd.

I was on the SP Phones and informed the COW I was ready to commence to blow. I got the order to begin to pressurize to outboard pressure. I cracked open the 700 psi air valve used to pressurize the tank, when UI inquired about the capacity of the tank.

It gets REAL loud when you do this. And I explained the gauge and the alternate method of visual inspection to the UI as the pressure increased in the SAN1. I carefully watched the gauge so as it approached the "ambient" sea pressure I could inform the COW so he could begin to flood water into the ship and I could begin to discharge to sea.

As I told UI the method of visually estimating the content level I turned to open the Hull valve backup and he grabbed the flashlight and jumped up the ladder. I tried to yell, but he was already in the stall. All I could do was pull the hatch closed on top of me for protection.

When air passes through a pipe it creates a vibration. This is the principle of any horn or flute. Or in this case the neck tube of the crapper.

At the pressure of the surrounding water, around 50psi, the sound is not unlike that of a Tug Boat horn. Deep and deafeningly loud.

But, it wasn't loud enough to drown out the horror in the girlish scream of middie UI, who had entered the stall, sign on the door and all, and closed it behind him to make 'his' visual estimation of the capacity of the SAN1 tank. Now well in the process of being blown to sea.

I could hear the initial impact of his body thru the scream against the stall door as he unsuccessfully tried to escape, like a truck hitting a wall.

Through the visqueen we used to keep debris from falling into the Snake Pit on the hatch I could see the familiar green fog and bits of, well you know, flying through the air.

UI finally figured he needed to close the ball valve to stop the assault he unleased on himself. I was in hysteria. The COW and the Control Room party knew what had happened. They just didn't know who.

UI emerged from the stall as I lifted the hatch, crying like a 5 year old. Covered in remnants of toilet paper and 'stuff'. His hair blown back, looking like he had come out of a wind tunnel.
It only takes about 5 minutes to blow SAN1 properly, without releasing any air over the side. I had secured the blow already and was about to start venting through the charcoal filter as he passed me, after finally regaining his composure, spitting.

He was charged with cleaning up the Port head and took a shower. But, it was days before the smell was tolerable again. His middie associates never let him live it down. And I'm guessing he withdrew his request to be assigned to submarine duty. And volunteered for the Marines, instead. Staying as far from the reminder of a ships horn as possible.
Something like that, never completely washes off your record.

I don't think he will ever be able to listen to a tuba again without reliving those horrifying few moments when he thought his world was coming to an end, starting in the most inboard crapper in the Port head of USS Simon Bolivar SSBN 641.