Ensign Hank Mathews slushed through the snow as he walked to the end of NETC Newport’s Pier Four. His footprints quickly vanished as the snowstorm pelted the wharf. In the distance Rose Island’s foghorn reverberated across Narraganset Bay. Even through water spotted eyeglasses Hank could see that USS SAMUEL B. ROBERTS weather decks were deserted. Usually at this time of day the ship would be bustling with maintenance activities, but not today. No one was topside, except the OOD who huddled inside an open watertight door near the quarterdeck. Steam lines that provided heat and hot water to the ships at the pier made serpent like hisses. Their silver insulated pipes snaked along the wharf’s edge. Steam clouds rising from the pipes quickly vanished as they were whisked away by gale force winds.
A prolonged blast, followed immediately by a short blast from a ship’s horn came from the west, a warning to all maritime traffic that a vessel at anchor lay ahead. The USS MILLER had been anchored off Gould Island for over a week.
When Hank reached the head of the wharf the outline of the USS EXPLOIT started to appear. The old wooden minesweeper bobbed in the Nor’easter moving in whatever direction nature’s force dictated. Hank turned his collar up when a large white cap broke against the pier and sprayed him with ice-cold water.
A powerful gust of wind pushed the minesweeper seaward stretching her mooring lines tight. Then like an overstretched rubber band, she snapped back and smash into the wharf. Firmly grabbing the handrail of the ship’s brow, Hank braced himself when the 700-ton ship slammed once more against the pier. After saluting the National Ensign, he rendered a traditional hand salute to the Officer of the Deck. “I report my return aboard, sir.” The OOD, Boatswain’s Mate First Class Silva, returned his salute. Silva’s muscular frame was a size too large for his Service Dress Blue jumper. His Cracker Jack uniform strained at the seams whenever he saluted. Silva turned up the collar of his peacoat and held onto his white hat when a cat’s paw of arctic air swatted the EXPLOIT. “Mornin’, sir. It’s wicked cold out here today.”
The burly petty officer was no stranger to the harsh North Atlantic seas. Hailing from New Bedford, he often bragged about growing up on his father’s scalloper, the Mary Jane. Silva’s knowledge of scallop dredging made him a natural minesweeping Rig Captain. Silva said, “Mr. Clute’s pissed, he’s waitin’ for you in the wardroom.”
Hank crossed the quarterdeck and entered the ship. The warm air felt good. The smell of fresh brewed coffee and frying bacon evoked memories of home. When he entered the small wood paneled wardroom, he found LT (jg) Doug Clute, the Chief Engineer, sitting alone at the table. Doug, still wearing grease spotted coveralls, looked up from his plate of scrambled eggs, ham and hashbrowns with a scowl. EXPLOIT slammed against the pier again. This time Doug’s coffee spilled over the brim leaving a large tan stain on the white linen tablecloth. “You’re late.”
“Sorry Doug, I got snowed in last night.”
“Maybe check the weather the night before so you can relieve the watch on time. Of all the days to be late. I gotta’ go to Boston this weekend. How are the roads?”
“Passable, but you better take it easy, the temperature’s dropping. It’s getting bad out there.”
The agitated chief engineer made a dismissive grunt.
Clute said, “The XO called last night. He’s stranded in Charleston, all flights to Providence have been cancelled. He’s hoping to make it back by Sunday afternoon.”
“Hope he’s back before we leave for Halifax. Is there anything else I need to know before I relieve you?”
“The snipes are working on the #2 Diesel. It’s still leaking oil like a sieve. Chief Edwards is gonna try sealing it with Balzona epoxy again.”
“Balzona, that’s the only thing holding this tub together. They outta put this old girl out of her misery and send her to the mothball fleet with all the other derelicts. What about the evaporator? Are we gonna be able to make fresh water next week, it would be nice to take a shower occasionally when we are underway.”
“No, I can’t get repair parts. They’re not available in the supply system anymore. I’m working on an open purchase from the Scalapini Brothers. We won’t be able to make fresh water on this trip.”
“More water hours?”
“Yep, better get used to Navy showers.”
Hank made an exasperated groan, “Great, anything else.”
“Yeah, your deck apes spent most of their duty day on the mess decks screwing around. It’s not fair that my guys work until taps and your guys spend their duty days smokin’ and jokin.”
“Don’t worry about my department and I won’t worry about yours.”
“I’ll worry about whatever I want to worry about Ensign, don’t forget I’m the senior officer in this conversation.”
“Come on Doug, you don’t have to remind me that you graduated OCS two months before me. I get it. You had better hit the road if you want to make it to Boston before the roads get too bad. I relieve you. See you on Monday.”
Doug had been difficult to get along with ever since his divorce. With no life outside of the ship he spent most nights onboard. He took his anger out on his department, frequently keeping his sailors working unnecessarily late into the evening. At least he had somewhere to go this weekend.
Hank turned the handset dial of the sound-powered Growler to the Quarter Deck. “Petty Officer Silva, this is Mr. Mathews, I’ve assumed the duty as Command Duty Officer. How’s it looking topside?”
“Sir, I recommend doublin’ up the lines. This bangin’ against the pier is a real pisser.”
“Make it so. Are we getting any topside icing?”
“Some.”
“Have Duty Deck start knocking the ice off the standing rigging and keep the decks shoveled.”
“Will do, sir.”
Hank hung his foul weather jacket on the hook inside his stateroom and changed into a dry uniform. The small stateroom had become his second home. Tacked to the bulkhead above his desk was a picture of the ill-fated USS PLEDGE. The PLEDGE was one of two minesweepers destroyed while clearing the port of Wonson during the Korean War. A Navy photographer had captured the minesweeper precisely when it hit a mine. The only thing left of the ship were planks, splinters and debris blasted skyward in a massive plume. It had become a tradition on the EXPLOIT for deck officers to pass down the old black and white photo from First Lieutenant to First Lieutenant. The picture served as a reminder of the hazards of minesweeping. A disgruntled officer along the way had circled a piece of debris in the exploding plume and labeled it: XO.
Hank took a seat at the wardroom table to update the 3M maintenance schedule. Unlike most ships in the Navy the EXPLOIT’s wardroom was unusually small. Its table could only accommodate six officers. The wardroom served several purposes. Not only was it the officer’s mess, but it also served as a meeting room, medical operating room, and Damage Control Central.
Time seemed to go by at a snail’s pace on EXPLOIT. Hank was sick of three section duty, but he didn’t have much choice. There were only six officers onboard, and the XO and skipper didn’t stand watch. The new ensign, Jack Kimball, had just reported aboard. It would be several months until he was qualified as an Officer of the Deck Underway. One 24-hour day of duty followed by two days off, layered on top of the ship’s normal 40-hour work week, was bad enough. When combined with the EXPLOIT’s heavy underway schedule he rarely had time for himself. Where were the exotic ports and the overseas adventures that the recruiter had promised? As far as Hank was concerned, he would kiss the Navy goodbye once his service obligation was up. Resigned to the fact that he had weekend duty again he decided to make the most of it. At least Doug was gone, and he had the wardroom to himself.
At lunchtime Seaman Torres brought him a slider with French fries. Since he was the only officer onboard it seemed silly being served burgers and fries on a bone China plate. He would have preferred to eat lunch on the mess deck with the crew, but the Navy valued its traditions, one of which was having junior enlisted personnel serve the officers. Hank poured himself a large glass of red bug juice from a dented stainless-steel pitcher. When he took his first bite of lunch there was a jarring crash and the sound of snapping timbers. An announcement on the 1MC followed. “Command Duty Officer your presence is requested on the quarterdeck.”
Silva leaned over the side pointing. “Sir, we’re bustin’ up the pier.”
The relentless pounding against the wharf had caused two large creosote pilings to break off below the waterline. Now with each smack against the pier, a large broken piling stabbed the underbelly of the ship like a harpoon. Each jab ripping away more of the ship’s sheathing. Large haze grey planks and splinters of broken wood floated in the confused water between the ship and the pier.
“Where’s the camel?”
“It broke loose sir; it’s under the pier.”
“Pass the word to muster all duty department heads on the Mess Decks, then call SURFGRU FOUR’s duty officer. We’re gonna need a tug to hold us off. In the meantime, get as many fenders over the side as possible.”
Soon Chief Edwards and two first class petty officers showed up on the Mess Decks. Hank began, “Listen up guys. Two of the pilings on the pier busted off. Silva’s working on getting us a tug but in the meantime, I want to start the underway checklist.
‘Chief Edwards, I need a status report of the main engines and do a functional check of the electrical system. Be prepared to light off the diesels if necessary and get me a report on the status of the steering system and auxiliary equipment. Have the Sounding and Security Watch take continuous soundings of the bilge. We’ll need to have a repair party standing by in case we start taking on water.
‘Duty Ops, I need operational checks of the gyro compass, radar, and all communications gear. Have RM2 start calling the captain and page me once you get a hold of him.
‘Duty Deck, be prepared to take the tug alongside when it gets here. Also, inspect the anchor, ground tackle, and anchor windlass. I want to be able to drop the hook in an emergency.”
‘Any questions?”
Chief Edwards asked, “Sir, we ain’t gettin’ underway, are we? You don’t have authority to get the ship underway without the captain.”
“Chief, we need to be ready in case the pier gives way. The command duty officer is empowered to make decisions for the captain in his absence. If that means getting underway to get away from a collapsing pier, so be it. Every duty section is supposed to have the ability to get the ship underway in an emergency. Anything else? OK, turn two. We got a lot goin’ on today.”
Hank toured the topside weather decks. Seaman Ginardi and BM3 Pullet were having a snowball fight on the fantail.
Hank shouted. “What are you doing? You’re supposed to be knocking the ice off the standing rigging. Stop screwing around. Ginardi, go to the Pilot House and man the helm. Pullet, come with me.”
Hank and BM3 Pullet took shelter on the unheated bridge. The canvas bridge cover luffed wildly from the severe winds. On the bow the Union Jack whipped back and forth violently fraying the flag’s blue fabric. The Nor’easter created a shrill high-pitched whistle as wind blew through the standing rigging. Hank said, “BM3, we’re going to be setting the Special Sea and Anchor Detail. You’re Boatswain’s Mate of the Watch. Hank walked out on the bridge wing so he could have a bird’s eye view of the deteriorating conditions. He shouted to the quarter deck. “Silva, any word on the tug.”
“Yes Sir, McAllister is sending a boat from Providence. They said they’ll be hear in ‘bout three hours.”
“What about the captain? Any word?”
“No sir.”
The minesweeper continued to hammer away at the pier. Every time it slammed against the wharf the ship’s timbers would snap and crack. Hank called Main Control, “How are things looking in the engine room?”
“Wait one. Sir, Sounding and Security says the water level in the bilge is starting to rise.”
Have the repair party start dewatering.” Turning to Pullet he said, “Pass the word to set the Special Sea and Achor Detail.”
Another piling gave way as Pullet was making the announcement. Moments later the repair party’s emergency P-250 pump ran in the background. Hank shouted to Petty Officer Silva, “We’re gonna light off the diesels and shift from shore power to ship’s power. Let’s disconnect all our hotel services except the shore power line and keep the brow over for now.
“Sir, are you sure you want to do that? I mean we can’t get underway without the captain.”
“Don’t you think I know that? But what do we do if the pier collapses?
“I know sir, but we could do more damage to the ship by getting underway. We only have a third of the crew on board.”
“Let me worry about that.”
“Aye, sir.”
Turning to Pullet he said, “Transfer the watch from the quarterdeck to the bridge.”
“Aye, sir.”
An announcement came over the 1MC, “The officer of the deck is shifting the watch from the port quarterdeck to the bridge.”
“Tell main control to light off #1 and #2 Diesels.”
Soon a loud hissing came from the engine room as the air starter turned over the 12-cylinder Packard engines. Next a series of booming thuds and clacks followed by the reassuring sound of the deep rumbling engines. All most immediately dark black exhaust appeared from the stack.
BM3 Pullet shouted, “Sir, Chief says the Balzona patch didn’t hold. He’s gonna shut down the number two diesel. The Chief says it’s going to reduce our maneuverability, but if he don’t shut it down it could cause a main space fire.”
“Very well, make it so. BM3, tell main control to shift from shore power to ships power.”
Pullet’s staticky voice reverberated throughout the ship. “Attention all hands. Now shifting from shore power to ship’s power. Stand clear of all electrical and electronic equipment and machinery.” Sailors started disconnecting hotel services.
Hank shouted to Silva. “Boats single up all lines but do not bring them aboard.”
Silva shouted to the line handlers, “Take in all lines.”
Hank shouted, “No! Stop! I said single up. Single up all lines.”
Silva shouted to the line handlers, “Hold what you got.”
From the bridge wing Hank could see a car’s headlights barely visible through the heavy snow. When the car reached the end of the pier, he recognized the black Ford sedan; it was Lieutenant Commander Brown, the ship’s commanding officer. The captain bolted from his car and crossed the brow.
Hank made a sigh of relief when he heard the 1 MC announce, “EXPLOIT arriving.” Minutes later the skipper joined Hank on the Bridge, “Mr. Mathews, what the Hell is going on?”
“Sir, the pier’s breaking apart. I’ve called for a tug, and they should be arriving soon. We had to shut down the #2 Diesel because of an oil leak. I started the underway checklist just in case we need to break away in an emergency. If the pier gives way I am going to take in all lines and drop the anchor when we are clear.”
LCDR Brown remained quiet for a long moment. Hank assumed the worst; would it be courts martial or a Maritime Board of Inquiry. Either way he pictured himself sitting at a long green table and there would be no coffee cups at his end. But if this was how his career was going to end, he preferred to go down for taking action. Captain Brown climbed into his captain’s chair. The captain took a deep breath. “Mr. Mathews.”
“Sir.”
“It looks like you have everything under control. Carry on. Continue making underway preparations.”
The next morning the captain called Ensign Mathews to his cabin. “Take a seat.” Hank took a deep breath expecting the worst. “Mathews, you did a hell of a job yesterday. I know a lot of officers who would have choked in such a situation. You’re the kind of leader’s the Navy’s looking for. Have you thought about what you want to do once you finish your tour on EXPLOIT.”
“Sir, I’ve been thinking about it a lot. I’m probably going to leave the Navy after I’m done here. I think I’m going to use my GI Bill and go to the International Diving Institute in North Carolina. I’ve always wanted to be a commercial diver.”
“Don’t be too quick to give up on the Navy. The best commercial divers in the world are Navy trained. If you’re serious I could make a few calls and get you a seat in next year’s class at the Navy Diving and Salvage Training Center in Panama City.”
“Sir, that would be great.” What? Did he say that? Did he really say he was considering staying in the Navy?
“If you put in a request to change your designator to Special Operations I’ll give you my strongest endorsement.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“OK, you better get back to work.”
“Aye, sir.”
“Just a minute Hank. One more thing.”
LCDR Brown handed Hank a manila folder. “I’m sending this to SURFGRU FOUR and thought you might want to have a copy for your records.”
Hank took the envelope and returned to his stateroom and opened it.
To: Commander, Naval Surface Group FOUR
From: LCDR Sheldon Brown, Commanding Officer, USS EXPLOIT (MSO-440)
Subject: Endorsement for Navy Commendation Medal – ENS Hank Mathews
It is with great pride and with no hesitation that I endorse ENS Hank Mathews for the Navy Commendation Medal. Through his exceptional service, unwavering dedication, and professional excellence, Mathews has significantly contributed to the operational success and mission readiness of USS EXPLOIT during the ‘Great Nor’easter of 84’ over the period of 19 March 1984 to 20 March 1984
With unrelenting gale force winds and near white out conditions, Ensign Mathews showed outstanding courage and professionalism. Foreseeing that Pier Four was in danger of collapse, ENS Mathews made all preparations to get the ship underway with the Onboard Duty Section. His outstanding leadership in a fast-moving, chaotic situation instilled confidence in the crew and ensured EXPLOIT would remain safe in the event of a collapse. Ensign Mathews critical thinking and performance under pressure are notable. He has set a new benchmark for excellence for our duty sections.
Demonstrating a level of professionalism and commitment that goes above and beyond the call of duty, Mathews has embodied the core values of honor, courage, and commitment.
In recognition of his exemplary leadership, I wholeheartedly recommend Ensign Hank Mathews for the Navy Commendation Medal. He is well deserving of this esteemed recognition.
I am confident that Ensign Mathews will continue to excel and inspire those around him, further demonstrating the highest values of the United States Navy.
Respectfully,
Lieutenant Commander Sheldon Brown
Commanding Officer, USS EXPLOIT (MSO-440)