Memories of Torsk Work Weekend 9
Joe Roche, EN3(SS) USS Sirago SS485 1961-64
Now that some time has passed and I can look back at the last work weekend,
the thought that crossed my mind was this was the closest to a regular workday,
circa 1962 on board Sirago that I have ever seen. Every where I went, below
decks and topside there was people working. What was astounding, were the guys
who worked topside during the heat of the day. Some of these people were
way past their prime, long in the tooth, really old, bent over, barely able to
breath in the humid Balmer weather. But work they did. Chipping, scrapping,
grinding and painting?? I even witnessed the commander of LIB (Lockwood
Internet Base, United States Submarine Veterans) holding a long handled scraper,
looking at it with this perplexed look on his face, wondering if this was a tool
he remembered reading about in the EMC Senior practical factors book. I'm sure
he was looking for the motor. Or at least the start button.
It was only slightly cooler below decks. At least we didn't have the sun bearing
down on us. But without the AC working it got a little warm. The after room lockers being stripped and painted. Sonar getting a new CD player
with all sorts of sonar sounds being emitted for the tourists. The scopes, the sound powered phones, #2 sanitary, the fuel injector pumps and
Woodward governor being pulled for overhaul. And so much more. From the forward
torpedo room, to the after torpedo room. Men and women were doing their best to
keep the ravages of Father Time from destroying what is left of Torsk and boats
like her, from the inevitable and ignominious end that would be theirs, without
the dedication of a group of people who refuse to let their past die in such a
manner. Boats such as Cavalla, Torsk, Cod, Becuna, Silversides and others, whose
names I've forgotten and the men and women who willingly, without payment, other
then a place to lay their tired heads at night, will travel across country to be
allowed to make believe they are young and strong again. To see how a bunch of
aging, balding, pot bellied men can get together twice a year. Giving bear hugs
to each other upon meeting for the first time in six months, as if we were
really going to sea again, and we are one crew.
Given the right circumstances, I believe we could have and would have taken Torsk to sea one more time. Maybe not to dive that girl, her hull is in terrible shape. But to hear her engines roar to life again, to set the maneuvering watch and rig for dive. To hear the old, familiar orders called out again?.
"Lookouts to the bridge".
"Prepare to Snorkel".
"Conn - Sonar, I have a contact bearing?.."
"Rig for deep submergence".
"Prepare to surface on four engines".
My very favorite being, my last COB Doc Lay who almost always beat me to the engine air induction valve shutting, by announcing over the 1MC "forward engine room shut your engine air induction?"
I know my purpose in life is to look forward. But after the weekend I just
experienced, it's awful hard not to look back with fond memories, about what,
once was.
DBF
Joe