Memorial Day

To answer those who have emailed questions to the effect of "What's taking so long?", allow me to explain. Two weekends ago, I admit, I was not in Albany. I vacationed to Boston to visit an old friend from college. Last weekend, though I believe I made up for it, and will relate my activities.

Sunday I took one of my roommates, Koop, down to see SLATER, hoping to rope him into giving tours, or at the very least helping with restoration. I think my efforts will prove worthwhile, despite the fact that he probably won't want to put in the hours I do. I mean, let's face it, he does have a life. But while he was around, he insisted that I pose for a photo op. Despite my natural disinclination for the idea, I decided to go against my nature for the sake of this blog. Perhaps more photos such as these will follow, particularly since, after joining one of my tours Koop made the remark that, despite my volunteer status, I'm still an "overpaid ham".

I had been previously conned to stay that night for an overnight group of 24 Cub Scouts. Of course, the little detail of the number I was not aware of until the Scouts were there. Despite my original misgivings, the whole deal was not really as bad as it seemed at first. Truth be told, the worst part was the 4-hour security watch each of the two overnight crewmen had to stand, which means I got a 4-hour nap rather than a good night's sleep. The fact that they put me up in the XO's cabin managed to atone for this slight sacrifice. That Monday morning, we did some more activities with the Scouts, including morning colors. Before too long, they were all gone, and I was busy preparing for the ceremony that was to be held for Memorial Day.

First were the 3" shells. Well, not authentic ammunition, but a home-made series of blanks. SLATER was able to procure several 3" shell casings, three of which were cut down and drilled out so that instead of the primer, there is a hole in the bottom the same diameter as a 20-ga. shotgun shell. Cut off the shell itself and insert the brass, add about a cup of black powder, and top it off with a cardboard disc, and presto, from the Chief's mess come three home-made 3" blanks. After a Navy shower (cold & quick), I had to make the change. I had been recruited for colors detail.

I have yet to mention the Admiral. One of our volunteers is, well, a retired Rear Admiral (Upper Half). He prefers that we not fly his flag when he's not in uniform, but this being Memorial Day, he couldn't not be in uniform, and one of the other volunteers and I immediately beat it up to the chart room where all the spare flags are kept. In no time, we had the blue flag with the two white stars flying in the breeze. But as the brass kept arriving, one after another, I couldn't help but be overcome by a feeling of wondering what I had gotten myself into. Besides the two-star Admiral, we also had a Commander, two Lieutenant Commanders and a Warrant Officer from the Coast Guard on hand. It wasn't until later, when GM1 and ET2 arrived to bolster the ranks of the enlisted present, that I began to feel less like the little fish in a big pond. But, as it happened, the other two enlisted were to join me for colors detail, under command of the Warrant Officer (who has some very interesting and rather funny stories, if you ever run into Mr. Walker).

There's not too much to say about the ceremony, other than that it was nice, quite appropriate in that it was neither unbearably long, nor disrespectfully short. On top of that, there was a rather sizable crowd on hand, and the color guard, not to boast, performed flawlessly. Of course, it goes without saying that those three blanks that I helped manufacture were disposed of in a most appropriate manner.

In that a picture is worth a thousand words, I'll curtail the writing and let the photos do the rest.

(NOTE: I apologize for the crummy nature of the photo editing. I am neither a professional web designer, nor do I pretend to be. Your patience in this regard is appreciated.)

(AUTHOR'S NOTE: Special thanks to all the nit-pickers who have nothing better to do than to comb through this blog and find the one, minor, insiginificant spelling mistake I made. I mean, seriously, I've been called on technical matters, and that's okay, because if I goof that up, then, yes, I want to be called on it, but, all kidding aside, a small error such as mistakenly typing "to" when I really meant "do", seriously, that's pushing it a little, don't you think? I mean, really?)

(PUBLISHER'S NOTE: The author is insane. Thanks for the catch.)

(TRANSLATOR'S NOTE: Ringraziamenti speciali a tutte le nit-raccoglitrici che non hanno più meglio niente fare che pettinarsi attraverso questo blog e trovare quello, minore, errore che insiginificant di ortografia ho fatto. Lo significo, seriamente, sono stato argomenti tecnici invitati e quello è giusto, perché se goof che su, allora, sì, io desiderano essere invitatgi, ma, interamente scherzando da parte, un piccolo errore come erroneamente battitura a macchina "a" quando realmente ho significato che "et", seriamente, che sta spingendola poco, non pensate? Significo, realmente?)

Finishing the Basement and Moving to Valves

To date, I have taken over 65 photos of USS SLATER, some of them more interesting than others. In an attempt to acquaint you somewhat with SLATER, I'll include some of the more interesting ones here. Of course, I would encourage you to check the official website of SLATER (www.ussslater.org) for more information. The "Online Tour" is especially helpful, I've found.

The first photo is of the #1 3"/50-caliber mount. It is an open, pedestal-type, dual-purpose mount. The 3" refers to the inside diameter of the barrel, while the /50-caliber refers to the length of the barrel. Naval guns are classified so that 3"/50 indicates the barrel is 150" long (3x50=150). Thus, a 5"/37 would be 185" long, and so on. There were four types of rounds: common (what might be called "high explosive" today), armor-piercing, anti-aricraft, and illuminating (starshells). The dummy shell in the contraption on the left of the photo is meant to be an anti-aircraft shell, and the contraption has a crank which would set the timed fuse that would cause the shell to explode in mid-air, hopefully close enough to the target aircraft to bring it down. That is the cause of all the puffy black smoke bursts you see in old films and in the movies.

This second photo is the best one I have of the crew's berthing. This is in the forward berthing compartment, in case you have the deck plans open in another window and are following along. The crew was bunked three high, and the senior petty officers would often take the top racks. Top bunks were prime real estate, because no one was climbing over you to get to their rack, and the fans were all mounted high up on the bulkheads, so there was better air circulation up there, and thus a bit cooler. Underneath each set of three racks was a set of three lockers. Each man had this one locker to contain all of his uniforms and personal effects. If it didn't fit into the locker, it didn't come aboard with you. Unlike submarines, where each rack had two men assigned to it (one would sleep while the other was on watch), each man on DEs got their own rack.

This one is a pretty good shot of the Captain's Cabin. The term "Captain" is somewhat misleading, because DEs were commonly commanded by Lieutenant Commanders or, in some instances, Lieutenants (two and three ranks below a full Captain respectively). However, according to Naval tradition, no matter the rank of the CO, he or she is still called "Captain". Needless to say, the CO got the largest stateroom, but most of the space was crammed with logbooks, records, and technical manuals. The uniform jacket on the left of the photo is that of the CO of SLATER, Lt. Cdr. Marcel Blanc, of Louisiana. Of course, everything in these photos you can see with your own two eyes, should you find yourself in Albany. Just follow Hwy. 20 all the way down to the Hudson and follow the signs. Or, better yet, get directions off the website. But now, let me show you photos of some of the stuff that's not on the tour. At least, not until we finish fixing these spaces up...

When I first volunteered to help restore and guide tours aboard SLATER, I looked the volunteer coordinator in the eye, and told him, "Look, you realize I'm a mechanic for the Navy. Trying to keep me out of the enginerooms will be like trying to keep a preacher out of church or a wine-o out of a liquor store." I think he got the point, because Saturdays I work down in the enginerooms, and on Sundays I typically guide tours.

SLATER, like all other Cannon-class DEs, is diesel-electric powered. Four 16-cylinder GM diesels turn four generators. These generators supply power to two electric motors, which turn the two shafts that provide the ship's propulsion. This is more efficient than a straight diesel design, because, without getting into too much technical detail, there are certain ways to change the speed at which the motors rotate without having to adjust the speed of the diesels. So you can change speeds while keeping the diesels on their most fuel-efficient setting. Being diesels, and being 16-cylinder, and thus rather large, I was unable to get a full diesel in a photograph. However, this is the best one. You can see the exhaust (the large, white, insulated pipe) running up to a large muffler room, and from there to the funnel ("smokestack").

Having no actual Naval experience, at least not having ever been to sea, I'm not exactly qualified to work on the diesels. Not that you wouldn't find a diesel on a nuclear-powered submarine, but that's beside the point. My first tasking was small valve repair. Not being a steam plant, there aren't as many as you might think, but with all the seawater systems, freshwater lines, fire mains, lube oil lines, fuel oil lines, exhausts, and other such plumbing, there are plenty of valves to be had. And none of them are in all that great of shape. Some of the valves are beyond repair. Just today, I put a wrench on a valve and gave it a turn, and the valve didn't come off, the pipe twisted off about two inches up from the valve. The line was so rusted through, that the valve could have been pulled out of the pipe by hand with no great effort. Other valves are so painted over that once you put the wrench on it and give it a turn, there is a small blizzard of white paint chips. After I brush the chips away, I have to adjust the crescent wrench down a little less than a quarter inch to get a good grip on the actual metal.

This valve is a gate valve in a fire main. All the valves in the enginerooms are color coded. The handwheel on this valve is, or at least was, red, which tells you it's a fire main. Green is for seawater, blue is for freshwater, yellow is lube oil, and white is for steam. (Yes, I know, I said that SLATER was not a steam ship, but steam was still used for most heating applications throughout the ship.) Now, aboard ships, firefighting water is saltwater, because if you used freshwater, it would run out long before the fire was extinguished. I decided to tackle this valve today, and knowing it one held seawater, I was expecting the worst from a corrosion standpoint. When I put my wrench on one of the bolts and began to turn; of course I expected it to be no easy task, but I was amazed that, once I put my full weight on the wrench and the nut broke free, it began to turn rather freely. For all of a quarter turn. Then, with a faint "tink", the whole bolt sheared right below the nut, and I sat there for a minute, staring dumbly at the nut with the bolt still firmly in the flange. After cursing appropriately, but not excessively, I tried another nut. However, none of the others would turn. So, temporarily stymied, I decided to take on a foe, though far from my own size, somewhat smaller.

Attacking several smaller valves, I managed to get a fairly (or barely) respectable assembly of valve parts. Due to corrosion, paint, and general stubborness of parts, this is the fruit of about 90 minutes or so of effort. I expected this to be slow work, no doubt, but this was mildly depressing. The engineroom is in sorry shape, and I am one of three volunteers in the engineering division currently working on the one engineering space that we hope to have open by September. I couldn't help thinking as I toted my bucket of valve parts up to the Machine Shop, that at this rate, it'll take the remaining five years of my enlistment to get the engineroom in presentable shape. But SLATER has been a pretty lucky ship so far, having survived not only World War II, but use as a training ship for 40 years in the Greek navy, and then barely escaping the scrapyard in Greece before returning to the US. Something has got to give, as I'm sure it will.

After having taken the valves apart and putting the individual bits to the wire wheel and/or the sandblaster, they actually began to look like servicable valves. Granted it was rather time-intensive, but they actually came out looking rather good. After a tiny bit of filing here and there, and a fair amount of loosening up, hand-working, and greasing, they were actually not bad at all. Of course, the point is not to get the valves where they'll stand pressure so much as to get them looking good for the tour; but it was a point of professional pride to take what initially looked like a bucket of junk and turn it into something that might actually be able to serve the purpose for which it was built.

The first full weekend was not as successful as I had originally imagined, but it wasn't really all that bad. Of course there is plenty of work to be done, and it won't be easy work in the least, but there is one but of motivation that I have. Remember I said I'm one of three in the engineering division? The other two have been with SLATER for a while. Now, in addition to the four 16-cylinder diesels, there are two 8-cylinder diesels that turn generators to supply all the electrical loads aboard the ship. The two others have restored one of these smaller diesels. The unrestored diesel looks pretty much like the picture of the 16-cylinder diesel I showed you before. Anytime I need some reassurance that the task I'm trying to accomplish is not impossible, I go down and look at that one restored diesel. Once you take a look at it, you might be reassured yourself...

In the beginning...

A story is like a house: without a solid foundation, it really isn't worth all that much, and probably won't last long in any case. So pardon me while I dig a literary basement for you.

Without going into gross detail, let's just say that getting a decent job with a history degree is, while not impossible, close enough that the difference doesn't matter. So off to the Navy I go, degree and all. What field do they talk me into getting into? Nuclear power. Don't ask me, I just work here. You've heard the old cliche, truth is stranger than fiction...?

During the 14 months I've been in the Navy, a grand total of, well, 14 months have been spent in training. The only naval vessels I've seen have been museum ships or in pictures. My current phase of training has sent me off to Saratoga Springs, NY, the upstate home of horseracing. In that horseracing season has yet to kick off, there really isn't too much to do in the area, so one Saturday, I decided to make the 45 minute drive to Albany and see what was there. You know, it never hurts a place to have a look at it.

While driving around, I come across the USS SLATER, DE-766. During World War II, DEs (destroyer escorts) were tasked with protecting shipping from U-boats in the Atlantic, and a wide range of threats from the Japanese in the Pacific. It just so happens that, of the 560+ built during the war, only one is still afloat. (There is a second, USS STEWART, but she's on dry land and, she'll pardon my saying so, is in rather unfortunate shape.) Figuring that being the last of anything left on the planet is enough claim to fame, I decided to take the tour. Long story short, I decided about halfway through the tour that SLATER needed another volunteer, and I had just the man for the job: me. After the tour was over, I took my tour guide off to the side and broke the news. Within 10 minutes, I had filled in and submitted an application.

That was two weeks ago. Today, Saturday, I qualified as a tour guide myself. But I have to finish off this basement, and I'll try to do so in good time, for your benefit. I am a Third Class Machinist's Mate in the Navy. Which means, basically, if it hisses, hums, whirrs, whirls, spins, or coughs smoke, steam, air or water, it's my job to know about it, maintain it, and fix it. And what major spaces have yet to be restored? Why, the engineering spaces! (You know, where most of the things that hiss, hum, whir, whirl, spin or cough smoke, steam, air and water live?) So most Saturdays I spend in the engineering spaces, cursing stuck valves and rusted over pipes (while trying to repair them), and the Sundays I take the time to show folks around.

Okay, so that basement is finished off. Kind of laborious, but what well-done project isn't? For your information, the rest of this blog will be devoted to detailing the work I do on SLATER, and will be updated as I get to it, but it should be about weekly. Oh, and if you want to finish off this basement, you know, hang some drywall, run some plumbing and electricity down, maybe turn it into a guest suite or maybe a rec room, everything you need to know can be found at www.ussslater.org.