We knew of
this impending operation for some time, having a schedule of sponsor's ship time, and
a brief description - if not classified, of what it was for, and in this case,
to study how depth, and density effected light. Doom, or Deep Ocean Optic
Measurement, was the name given to the operation. A few days before departure,
we started loading the equipment that would be used, and setting up the winches
on deck for it's special cable, etc. Though I had the name of the "Party
Chief", I hadn't met him yet, expecting him not before a day or so before
leaving. As usual, this fellow had a PHD in some science, or other, and would be
addressed as Doctor...naturally. Ordinarily, one would be hard pressed to
recognize any of these "doctors" in a group...appearance, or
character-wise, but not in this case. Our "doctor" for this trip
played the part to the hilt, though minus the stethoscope, he wore a white
"butcher's coat". Doctors, and butchers, at least in Brooklyn always
wore these frocks. Being a seaman, and always cautious about loose clothing that
could be caught up in machinery, I saw wearing such apparel as strange as
umbrellas aboard ship. Then again, we have in our profession, some ship's
officers, including captains who feel naked on the bridge without a pair of
binoculars draped around their neck...a badge of office I presume. Anyhow, to
get back to our "doctor", I wouldn't see him until we got underway,
having to wait until meal time to meet him. In an unusual set-up, he was not
only the party-chief, but acting as SSOB, or Senior Scientist On Board for this
trip. I guess the sponsor was giving our resident SSOB a voyage off.
Yes, you
guessed correctly, our doctor scientist wore his "butcher's coat" to
meals...he may have even slept in it, for I never saw him out of it.
It was custom to have the SSOB seated at the Captain's Table along with
the other department heads like the Chief Mate, Chief Engineer, Radio Officer,
etc.
The other tables reserved for
the other officers, scientists, and their technicians. The unlicensed personnel
had their own mess hall. All told, there was about forty in the ships staff, and
fifteen in the scientific, or sponsors group, though seldom were there this
many. On this trip, we only had the SSOB, his assistant, and a couple of
technicians in his group. The ships deck force ran the deck gear - winches,
"A" frames, and the like.
We departed Norfolk an hour or so after
breakfast, dropping the pilot just around lunch time, setting course for our
first "station" off the coast. Our scheduled next port being Bayonne,
N.J.
Our butcher-coated doctor joined us for the
first time at lunch, laying out his plan...though we knew it already, having the
op-plan ourselves. We were to take a half-dozen or so "stations" off
the coast, working our way eventually in to the last station near
Nantucket. One interesting aspect of this operation was that we would only work
at night - well after sunset when it became night technically, and finish well
before sunrise. Surprisingly, there was no "piggy-back" operation
scheduled to use valuable ship-time during the day light periods. So...this
meant, to our frocked doctor lots of time for quality fishing. Of course many of
our own crew thought the same, but for the crew, on this type of ship spending
alot of time dead in the water, with gear over the side most of the time, it was
no big deal...so to speak. Ship time, or time away from the office or lab didn't
come too often for alot of specialists like our doctor...ship time being at a
premium. Though there were dozens of ships like the Gilliss now, thanks to the
government's new geophysical attitude do to the "Cold War", there were
hundreds of new ideas to test in the ocean, and above it...ships were booked a
year, or two in advance. Possibly, this SSOB wouldn't see a ship again for a
long time after this trip.
Not being very sociable, and short on small talk,
our "doctor" made fast work of his meals, and either headed to his
quarters, or the labratory aft to ready his equipment. So, we never got too
friendly, which was a shame, as things might have turned out better for him if
we had.
His "device" was
quite large, and heavy...about the size of a Volkswagon Beetle of those days.
From what was visible to us, it appeared as two stainless steel spheres, each
several feet in diameter mounted on a frame. Bearing in mind that most of the
weight was contained in the thickness of the shell, these spheres had to
be to with-stand the pressure of the sea water at extreme depths. Like two
mini-bathyscaphs, but tethered. Most of us who supported scientists on these
type vessels, were well aquainted with sea-pressure, having witnessed its
effect when
devices collapsed. I can well remember retrieving a
canister containing a tape recorder that had exceded its design depth...flat as
a fire-hose. The canister was about five inches in diameter, the wall thickness
at least an inch - stainless steel, with caps on each end of two-inch thick
steel. Just for fun of it, someone cut open the tube, and retrieved the
recorder, which was paper thin. Experiments with glass spheres proved
interesting. Taking glass "balls", and attaching explosive charges on
them, the deeper the "balls" went, the more explosives it took to
implode them, until it didn't matter how much explosive was used, the glass
crystals making up the balls become so compressed by the sea pressure, they
became indestructable. Apparently, glass is the way to go...if there are no
"seams".
Anyways, back to the "device". In one
sphere was a light source...a light bulb. In the other, a receptor that would
measure the light...for what...refraction, luminosity?....I don't know. I don't
think it was checking for any change in "speed", as I think that's a
constant. In any event, something to do with the beam of light from one sphere
to the other would be recorded at different depths, and only at night.
The weather held perfect...it was summer time. No
tropical storms forecast...nothing to interfere with the project. Outside the
hundred-fathom curve, skirting the coast, we accomplished several stations, and
were just about east of Barnegat Inlet, N.J. on this station when sometime
around 2200, the "device" being only about one-third of its way down,
orders came from the lab to stop lowering, and commence retrieving. With at
least six or seven hours left, word got to the bridge that the device was on
it's way up. Shortly thereafter, a request was made from the lab to proceed to
the next station...up near Nantucket, a good days run. I happened to be on the
bridge at the time, having my last cup of coffee, and chatting with the Third
Mate - George Hope. George called the engine room, and ordered the engines
started. I then told George to send one of his bridge watch to fetch the good
"doctor"...I wanted to see what the problem was.
As expected, instead of our
"butcher-coated" scientist, his "right-hand" man came to the
bridge. Like Igor sometimes would open up to the young Doctor Frankenstein,
giving details about his monster friend, this fellow, when asked what the
problem was, gave it straight: "The light bulb is burned out.' he
said.
"Oh.' I said. Then: "Well couldn't the
bulb be replaced and we complete this "station"?'
"Nope! It can't be replaced...there's no
spare.' Igor said.
"No spare? Then what are we going to the
next "station" for?' I asked.
"To fish, and sunbathe.' said
Igor.
"Fish, and sunbathe? George...when the engines are ready, shape 'er up
for
Ambrose...we're goin' home!'
Igor dashed off the bridge...clumpity, clump, clump down
the ladder...heading aft.
I got the Radio Office up to send a change in
our movement report, and I turned in.
The next morning, at breakfast, the monster - er -
"doctor" joined us at breakfast smiling, evidently not having spoken
to Igor last night, but turning in himself. "Oh well, Cap'n...I guess we
should be getting up to our last "station" later on today. We can't do
any work, as we have some difficulties with the device, too technical to
explain, but we can use up the rest of our time just lolling around fishing, and
sunbathing.' he said. In fact, the most out of his mouth since the trip
began.
"Look. Look out that port
hole there doctor...see that tower goin' by? That's Ambrose light tower...we will be in
Bayonne, and tied up before noon!' I
said.
With that said, I excused myself, and went to the bridge to
prepare to take on the pilot.
The last I saw of this fellow was him walking down
the pier, his suitcase in hand, his butcher's coat billowing up around him in
the afternoon breeze.
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GALLERIES
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