Hello Mother. Hello Father. I am writing, underwater.
Section 3, relieve the watch.
The major staple of life at sea is the watch. A sharp eye must be kept to ensure that each aspect of submarine operations is as it should be. The front pages of newspapers have been littered with examples of submarine crews letting their guard down for the briefest of moments. Ship names like GREENEVILLE, HARTFORD, JACKSONVILLE, AND NEWPORT NEWS have almost become synonyms for ‘accident’ amongst the sailors of the relatively small submarine force.
The most stark example of what is at stake is that of the USS MIAMI (SSN 755). What started as a small fire onboard while she was in shipyard resulted in the entire forward half of the ship being destroyed. No lives were lost but the ship was deemed to be too expensive to repair and she was decommissioned several years ahead of schedule. At least a handful of deployed boats in the ensuing years could directly point to the MIAMI disaster as the cause of their being extended on that deployment.
At sea, a submarine operates on a three-section rotation. There is always an “on watch” section, as well as one “off-going” and one “on-coming.” For decades, the entire sub force operated on a six hour rotation which had the effect of creating an eighteen hour day. The major downfall of such a rotation is that the three sections rotate the time of day during which they stand watch each day. Each watch is six hours earlier than the previous; in effect, rotating backwards.
Recently, and accompanied by weeping and gnashing of teeth by the old guard of the force, we transitioned to an eight hour rotation. The advantage of this schedule is simple; with an eight hour rotation everyone stands watch at the same time each day and can establish a rhythm that is easy to maintain.
For those eight hours, the sailor is spoken for and not to be assigned any duties that might conflict with those of the watch. For a sonarman like myself, the composition of the watchteam is of utmost importance. The proper balance of authority and knowledge, enthusiasm and humor, professionalism and tact is essential to the makeup of the team. Spending eight hours with a team that does not enjoy each other’s company in a dark room with white noise being pumped into your ears is no picnic. Out of those eight hours, seven hours and fifty-seven minutes are likely quite routine with three minutes of terror thrown in and not necessarily consecutively.
Other watches around the ship are required to rove and still others are posted alone in a particular space. The rovers are the salvation of those posted. Some latitude is given for stopping and chatting a bit as a sailor roves through the space.
After a sailor’s watch is over, the next eight hours are theirs to study for the next qualification or conduct maintenance. Training may also be scheduled for this time. Tell a sailor that the only certainties are death and taxes and you are likely to have Naval Nuclear training explained to you.
The remaining eight hours of the day belong to the sailor. This is the sailor’s on-coming time and is generally considered sacred. A submarine sailor learns to sleep almost anywhere and at the drop of a hat due to what can often be a chaotic schedule. During one’s on-coming time it is frowned upon to disturb someone without good cause.
The wake-up will always come sooner than you want and the watch must be relieved once again. The watch never ends.
This column is not endorsed by the US Navy and any opinions herein are my own.
STS1(SS) Aaron B. Skellenger, USN
USS OLYMPIA (SSN 717)
