when you want to go left and to the left when you want to go right. You had to turn rapidly and hard to get a quick and good response.
It did not take me long to get the idea. In no time I was the one steering the ship. We were cruising just off the shoreline of Cuba. Things seemed to be going smoothly, but of course not for long. Suddenly, we took a hard turn toward the beach. Quickly the order was shouted, “Hard right rudder!” I was turning as hard and quick as I could. The First Class Quartermaster pushed me aside and began turning the wheel for all he was worth, but to no avail. “Sir, we’ve lost steering control,” he called up to the Flying Bridge.
We were headed toward beaching on the Cuban shore. The three other ships in our convoy signaled, asking what maneuver we were making. The response was to send up the “lost steering control” flag. Reading the flag they quickly turned away, back out to sea. By now the shore was very close and getting closer. I could see the headlines: U.S. Naval ship runs aground in Cuba!
Quartermaster Striker Joseph Callihan was at the helm.
I was not yet in a panic mode. At least not until the Lieutenant Commander, the next in command, came down from the Flying Bridge offering to help us. I’m not kidding; this man looked like an exact double of the late Wally Cox, even to the glasses.
“Lost steering control?” he asked, as he looked at the First Class Quartermaster. “Yes sir!” the Quartermaster replied. “Hum…let’s
see” he said, as he looked at a panel of switches. He looked over the switches with a very serious and contemplative look. I was thinking, perhaps we are about to be rescued. I had no idea of what exactly he was doing as he flipped a switch on the panel behind me. Apparently neither did he, because after flipping the switch, the First Class Quartermaster informed him, “Sir, that’s the stern light.” “Oh yes, it’s this one,” turning on another switch. “Sir, you just turned on the bow light” the Quartermaster said. “Let’s try this one,” the Lt. Commander said as he turned yet another switch on. “Sir, those are the port lights,” the Quartermaster told him.
It became apparent he was trying to put on a show that he was “in charge” of the situation. “I see,” he said. “Well I’m going back up to the Flying Bridge. Inform me when you get control back.” “Yes sir, I will,” the First Class Quartermaster answered.
He departed, and I looked at the First Class Quartermaster. He looked back at me, shrugged his shoulders, and we both started to laugh. If the Lieutenant Commander’s intention had been to reassure me, he failed badly. I must confess. I began to wonder just how long Fidel would be holding us in prison. I was thinking, “So…you had to join the Navy Reserve!”
Things were indeed looking bleak, as we were almost in wading deep water. Then the good news came. We’ve regained steering control. The Captain called down from the Flying Bridge saying, “Let’s get to hell out of here!” We quickly turned back out into the deeper waters. Poor Fidel lost his big chance. But what had happened in the first place?
Later, I learned it was the Chief Signalman who had been at the root of our problem. The ship had an area which is called the after steering. It is located at the rear of the ship, on a lower floor. If under attack the Bridge gets blown away, steering can be done from the after steering compartment. It is weird; you are facing to the rear, looking at a blank wall. Yet you are steering the bow of the ship forward, not seeing what is ahead.
The Captain suggested someone go down to the after steering compartment, and see if anyone was there. It was discovered the Chief Signalman had taken a group of Sea Scouts with him. He had been attempting to explain the after steering concept to them. Then wishing to make an impression, he had kicked in to take over steering from the bridge. The problem was he kicked in on the same cable we were using. He was suppose to request permission before doing such a thing, in order to find out which cable we were operating on, so he could then use the opposite cable to smoothly take over control. The Captain gave this Chief a good chewing out over the incident. The Captain was not at all happy, as we had as a “guest” onboard the Commandant of the Sixth Naval District. He had to explain the incident to him. At least I was exonerated of any wrong doing.
We still had the third day to go. On that day it was decided to do something a little safer. We were to practice passing supplies and then personnel from one ship to another, while steaming along side by side on the open sea. A rifle with gunpowder shoots a line over from one ship to the other. The rope attached is pulled in and tied on to the railings between the two ships, after which the passing along of supplies begins. Sounds simple enough, I’d seen it done in movies and on the Victory at Sea television series. I was thinking0 this should be safe and easy for us.
Apparently I had forgotten that “us” was Reservists. Nothing comes easy for untrained Navy Reservists. I think that may even be their motto. Anyway, let the games begin! What FUN games they were to be! The one ship pulled along side the Greenwood about twenty feet apart. As they did, orders such as course and speed changes were yelled into a megaphone between ships. All seemed to be going beautifully. The line was shot across and retrieved by the sailors aboard the other ship. The rope was securely tied, as both ships bobbed up and down, side to side in the rough waters.
Just as they were preparing to pass some supplies, somehow the other ship changed both course and speed. Pulling rapidly ahead of us, they began pulling us toward them like a magnet. You could hear the yelling going on aboard both ships. “Cut the lines! Cut those damn lines!” At the time I had to write all of this into the ships log. It was quite a challenge to keep up; course and speed changes were being called out rapidly, along with frantic orders to sever the lines. Taking a quick glance outside, I could see my fellow Sailors feverishly hacking at the ropes with axes. At the same time we were coming dangerously close to each other.
Thank God the danger passed, and we did not collide. However, embarrassed by this, the Commandant of the Sixth Naval District ordered another try be made. Only this time, since our ropes had been cut to shreds, we were to use the other ship’s ropes. On this second try the adventure really heightened.
The very first attempt was successful. The ropes were again secured, and we actually successfully passed some supplies from one ship to the other. Now it was time for the personnel ladder to transport one person from one ship to another. Volunteers were sought, but oddly enough, no one was stupid enough to want to go, not even the guy who wanted to be a Fireman would volunteer for this. It was rumored the Commandant had first been offered the honor. His reply was said to have been, “What! Are you Crazy?”
The lack of a volunteer proved to be a prudent thing. As shortly afterward the same thing that had happened earlier began to take place again. The other ship began to speed up, pulling out ahead of the Greenwood. Once again we were being pulled rapidly toward the side of the other ship. The same orders to cut the lines were again being screamed with fear and passion in the voices. As I was writing I was thinking, What an adventure! If I live through this, I’ll have quite a story to tell. I felt no sense of panic. Not even when the First Class Quartermaster handed me a life jacket and said, “Quick, put this on, we might have to abandon ship.”
But when the Captain gave the order to sound on the horn “prepare to abandon ship”! I must admit I did become a bit more deeply concerned about what was happening. The big thrill came when those around me were starting to leave. “Should I go to my life boat station?” I asked the First Class Quartermaster. “No, you have to stay here and log in every command that is given. It is important to have a record of what commands are given.” Then he left me, to report to his life station. The only thought which gave me some solace upon hearing this news was: I could have been climbing up that long string of ladders right now, trying to get to where I could jump off.
Once again we passed
