RECOLLECTION

L.C. Gore 1988

“MID WATCH”

We had by passed several Jap held islands and now the Task Force seemed to be heading in the general direction of the Philippines. Just a guess, but probably a good one. Engineers are usually the last ones to get the “straight dope” on any pending operations. Of course it doesn’t make all that much difference to the engineer as his job continues to be, keep the steam up and the wheels spinning.

23:30 I was awakened by the messenger of the watch and advised that it was time for me to assume the mid-watch in the forward fire room. I was up, dressed and on the main deck in seven minutes, standing by the forward fire room’s starboard scuttle, looking out across a hazy starlight sea.

I could make out two Aircraft Carriers and a lone destroyer in the process of turning for a new position. I could feel the Swanson’s deck leaning to starboard, indicating a rather abrupt turn to port. The Task Force was either changing its base course or heading into the wind to launch planes. A tactic often used. Launch at night, recover in early daylight. I looked at my watch. 23:44. I headed for the scuttle.

My hands hit the wheel actuating the scuttle dogs and the scuttle flew open. As I disappeared through the scuttle, it seemed to close automatically behind me. But all that automation was years of practice at manual operation of the scuttle’s control mechanism from the inside. I landed on the first level of the fireroom, spun around to speak with the “checkman.” He maintains the proper water level in the boiler. Water too high or too low could result in an explosion. The boiler water levels were in their normal range. I grabbed one of the ladder railings and swung myself down, easily, to the lower control level. I glanced at the engine order indicators and noted that we were moving ahead at “STANDARD SPEED.” The firemen on watch were just finishing their burner cleaning routine in preparation for their relief. The blower operators were being relieved. Steam pressure was normal at 600psi, with two size 36’s in the saturated side of both boilers. Only a smaller size 42 was in use in the superheaters. At these lower speeds superheaters are kept idling at about 750 degrees Fahrenheit. Ready for full power when necessary. We were carrying minimal air pressure, about 3.5 inches hg to the casings due to the light load requirements.

23:54 The watch has been relieved. We settle down for a quiet mid watch.

23:56 The horn of the engineering telephone system sounds its urgent squawk twice. It was a call from the main engine room. Orders from the bridge, be ready for full power momentarily. Very unusual, getting, getting advance notice.

The bridge usually lets you have it right in the gut, with out warning.

00:00 The messenger of the watch makes his rounds, reading the various temperatures and pressures. I’m informed the temperature of the fire room is 118 degrees.

00:05 A loud bell heralds the engine order indicator change to “FULL SPEED.” Stand by burners are made ready, susperheators are eased up to 825 degrees. Burner men begin systematically to increase fuel oil pressure to 350 psi to increase burner output. More and larger burners are now in the boilers. Blower operators swing the throttles of the forced draft blowers to increase their output from a steady drone to a much higher pitched whine. Casing pressure is up to 9 inches and increasing. A quick check with the water tender above. Boiler water is ok. Feed water pressure holding steady at 750 psi. We’re easing on up to 22 knots as smooth as a kitten.

00:12 About 7 minutes getting settled down with the increase and the engine order indicator sounds the alarm for “FLANK SPEED”. Activity in the fireroom is humming with the precision of 17 jewel watch. Boiler pressure riding at 615 psi. To stay ahead of the main engine throttles. Blowers now screaming at their deafening 130 decibels, feeding the hungry boilers air to insure complete combustion with no smoke. The check men were riding the big water check valves as though they were steering a Greyhound bus. Their heart beat in tune with the water dancing in the gauge glasses.

00:20 We finally settled down at just over 30 knots. Very noisy, but running well. The big rush in building up speed is behind us.

01:10 The messenger of the watch completed computing the hourly readings. Every thing was fine, but we were parched. The messenger was dispatched topside to get a big pitcher of ice water from the mess hall. A little news is never amiss under these circumstances, so he found that the carriers were launching planes every few minutes and would be resuming normal operations about 01:15. Another little tidbit he offered was that the bakers were baking bread. We had already begun to smell that sweet aroma, drifting down the ventilation system. Security was so tight, though, there was no possibility of getting a fresh baked loaf. As soon as they came out of the oven, they immediately went into the bread locker under lock and key.

There was plenty of dough rising and ready for the pans. But who eats raw dough? The bakers didn’t guard the dough at all just for that reason. So, no fresh bread for this mid watch, it would seem.

01:20 The engine order indicator suddenly rang “STANDARD SPEED”. Burners were being jerked out of the boilers with a rapidity to make your head swim. Blowers went screaming into a steady easy drone. A relief for the ears! Pressures and temperatures back to a range compatible with “STANDARD SPEED”. Boiler water control almost got out of hand, but was soon held steady by the expert check men. As machinery and men began once again to fall back into an easier pattern of watch control, we put on a pot of coffee.

02:00 Hourly readings. By this time the whole atmosphere had been permeated with the smell of fresh baked bread. The pot of coffee had just brewed was making it worse. What to do? We had already sent up our very best bread scroungers, to no avail. The same story. Plenty of dough laying about, but not one loaf of bread within arms reach, not under lock and key. Well, enough is enough! My watch was tired and hungry and certainly deserved better.

Since the high speed run the fire room temperature had risen 122 degrees. We were in no mood for failure at this hour. I sent our bread scrounger back to the galley, but not for bread. For dough! No one was watching the dough, as no one eats raw dough. Right? So, getting a loaf of raw dough was a cinch.

02:10 The messenger, having completed his hourly computations, was rumbling through our materials bin looking for a certain size piece of light sheet metal for me. The entire watch was becoming excited about the small round of bread dough resting on top of the rag can. The heat of the fire room had accelerated its rising. It was getting larger by the second. The messenger spun from around the corner of #2 boiler with an oily piece of sheet metal in his hand. “This is all I could find, I bought a pair of tin snips so you can get what you want from it.” I took the piece of sheet metal, wiped the excess oil from it and with the tin snips headed to the upper level. I had the check man remove the insulated end cover from the steam drum. With the cover off, I trimmed the sheet metal to fit, like a small cradle, between the dogs that secure the drum entrance plate. With every thing set, the bread dough is brought up and placed on the sheet metal, positioned between the dogs. Sort of a pan without ends.

02:15 The cover is replaced and we set our mental timers for about 45 minutes.

02:35 If there had been any “Doubting Thomas’s”, they were beginning to disappear as the smell of fresh bread was definitely on the increase. I explained to the younger members of the watch that it was a very simple solution they may wish to remember for the future use. Steam, confined in a vessel, at 600 pounds pressure has a temperature of about 487 degrees. I had figured the area under the cover, where we placed the dough should bake our bread readily at a temperature of 450 degrees. And so it did, though the shape left a lot to be desired.

03:00 The watch is maintaining a steady and easy “STANDARD SPEED”.

03:05 The big event, Cover removed from the steam drum. Voila, Our bread! There was some problem, wresting the bread from between the dogs. Solved with a paint scrapper. No problem with the oily sheet metal. It came right off. I figure the rust became imbedded in the bread, caught between those dogs, gave these men their full ration of iron for at least the next six months. There was no point in trying to keep them (and me too) from eating that rusty, crusty part. Everybody knows the crust is always the best part.

03:10 A freshly brewed cup of coffee and a big chunk of freshly baked bread. If that’s not living, I don’t know what is.

03:25. I said, “O.K. fellas, relief is on the way, clean up all the bread crumbs. Even if we told them they’d never believe it.”

03:45 My relief hit the floor plates. After the usual exchange of watch information, he asks , “Well Gore, how was the mid watch ? Any thing unusual?” I responded, “Same old routine. Nothing unusual.”

03:50 I followed my men through the scuttle. another mid watch.