In the summer of 1941 Sergeant James Allen Ward was awarded the Victoria Cross for climbing out onto the wing of his Wellington bomber, 13,000 feet above the Zuider Zee, to extinguish a fire in the starboard engine. Secured only by a rope around his waist, he managed not only to smother the fire but also to return along the wing to the aircraft's cabin. Churchill, an admirer as well as a performer of swashbuckling exploits, summoned the shy New Zealander to 10 Downing Street. Ward, struck dumb with awe in Churchill's presence, was unable to answer the prime minister's questions. Churchill surveyed the unhappy hero with some compassion. "You must feel very humble and awkward in my presence," he said.
"Yes, sir," managed Ward.
"Then you can imagine how humble and awkward I feel in yours
Thursday, June 2, 2011
Monday, May 9, 2011
I remember Mama
Saw the movie "I remember Mama" with Irene Dunn last night. I remember seeing it years ago when my kids were very little and thinking. That is what people should be shooting for. A life of simple yet vast importance. A life focused on raising your children, helping those around you. And being the rock they lean upon. The most succesful business man, or rock star, or high priced actress will not be as important to your life and history, as your mother will be. Or as you will be to your children.
Thanks Mom
Thanks Mom
Wednesday, March 30, 2011
Wonders of the World
Truely Miraculous Things
- A baby's Smile
- The Aurora Boriealis
- The Cliff dwellings at Mesa Verda
- Flying Fish
- Sunrise over a trout stream
- Sunset over the Southern Pacific ocean
- The curve of my wife's hip
- A well writen sentance
- The Moon landing
- "Pride and Joy" by Stevie Ray Vaughn
- The breath of a warm wind on a cool night
- The night sky over the Arizona desert
and finally
- A man exercising the right to vote
- A baby's Smile
- The Aurora Boriealis
- The Cliff dwellings at Mesa Verda
- Flying Fish
- Sunrise over a trout stream
- Sunset over the Southern Pacific ocean
- The curve of my wife's hip
- A well writen sentance
- The Moon landing
- "Pride and Joy" by Stevie Ray Vaughn
- The breath of a warm wind on a cool night
- The night sky over the Arizona desert
and finally
- A man exercising the right to vote
St. Mathews Island Part 1
“All hands on Deck” “All hands on Deck” yelled the 1st class Boatswain Mate as he walked through the berthing area, rousting us from our racks in the middle of the night. “Dress warm ladies, its colder than a which’s tit, lay to the foc’sle and grab an ax handle. Its going to be a long night.”
We were steaming north into a ranging gale, 2 Korean fishing trawlers with 161 men aboard had become trapped in the pack ice off of St Mathews Island in the north Bearing Sea. The winter pack ice had moved south at an unexpectedly quick rate and caught the trawler unaware.
The Cutter Storis was built in 1943 as a small Ice Breaker and had seen time in Greenland during the war and had been the first vessel to circumnavigate the North American Continent traveling across the north of Canada in 1952, but that was during the summer.
This however was the dead of winter. We were having problems long before we got to the Pack Ice. The usual north wind had generated 20ft swells and we were headed directly into them. Every time we hit a wave we would bury our bow and generate huge showers of sea spray, the spray would land on deck and immediately freeze, this created more weight, causing more spray and more ice, an endless cycle that was causing us to become top heavy and in danger of capsizing. The American crab boats would have the same problem and every year 1 or more would capsize with all hands lost. So the bos’wain was getting everyone on deck to break up the ice.
We put on sweaters and then heavy arctic parkas, this was the late 70’s, no GORTEX or other fancy stuff, cloth parkas with fur lined hoods. And thick fur lined gloves that reached to your elbow. Twenty of us mustered at the foc’sle hatch and grabbed ax handles and baseball bats and made our way onto the foc’sle. The deck crew had previously put up “Life Lines” across the deck. We grabbed these as we made our way forward. The ship had slowed down but was still rising and falling 20 ft every 15 seconds. You learned to control it with your knees. At the bottom, you flexed to take the weight, at the top you flexed to keep yourself from being launched into the sky. Like trying to stop yourself on a trampoline, only it never stops. This is one of the reasons my knees are sore to this day. 10 years of doing this stuff. When the spray hit us, we turned our backs to it. We were soon covered in ice ourselves but continue on. There was no other option. We had to get to the fishermen, and to do so we had to break off the ice.
Once on the foc’sle we started swinging our bats at the ice while others shoveled it over the side. You tried to hit the ice as hard as you could without slipping off the deck into the water. As they say one hand for the ship and one for yourself. We did this for about an hour till we had removed the danger then returned to the warm Mess deck, knowing we would have to do this again in a few hours. Ah to be in the British Navy and issued a cup of grog. Nothing for the U.S. Sailor, the puritans wouldn’t allow it. So, All night, 1 hour on deck, 2 hours getting warm, repeat.
After 2 days we finally reached the Pack Ice, this was my first time seeing it, some observations: the Swells were moving it up and down at the edges but within a few hundred yards, the swells had vanished, all the power that tossed our ship around so easily, could be tamed with a few inches of ice spread over hundreds of square mile. The Sky was blue and ice was White, whiter than anything I have ever seen, You had to wear sun glasses, even a few minutes and you would go blind. I also learned that the Ice was not one big piece, like on a lake or pond. But was constantly moving, large sections 100s of yards wide would rub up against other sections. Everything was slowly moving about, creating ridges and valleys, similar to Tectonic plates, but on a much smaller scale.
We made our way into the ice, at first we progressed easily, it was only a few inches thick and the Storis was made for this stuff, even when it thickened to 6 inches we continued on. A constant groaning sound coming from the hull. Down in the berthing area it was so loud that it was difficult to sleep.
After a day of steady progress we came to a sudden stop. The ice had become over 2 ft thick and we could go no further. At this point the Bridge watch started to look for breaks in the ice, long leads where the ice had split apart, sometimes as much as a 100 ft wide. These leads would open up, then close again a few minutes later. We would then back up and ram our way into a lead, travel a mile or so, then back and ram our way into anther lead, continually traveling in a northerly direction to the Korean Fishing trawlers.
I had established contact with the Korean trawlers earlier in the day via Morse code, everyone onboard was OK and the ships had not experienced any damage yet, but they were firmly held by the ice and being pushed towards the island a few miles away, It was critical that we get there before they went aground. The island was uninhabited, so we could expect no rescue efforts from shore, if the ships were pushed aground, the ships would break up and the men would be unable to make it ashore, they might be able to evacuate to the ice, but close to shore the ice had a habit of breaking up. It was a dicey situation…….
See Part II in next post
We were steaming north into a ranging gale, 2 Korean fishing trawlers with 161 men aboard had become trapped in the pack ice off of St Mathews Island in the north Bearing Sea. The winter pack ice had moved south at an unexpectedly quick rate and caught the trawler unaware.
The Cutter Storis was built in 1943 as a small Ice Breaker and had seen time in Greenland during the war and had been the first vessel to circumnavigate the North American Continent traveling across the north of Canada in 1952, but that was during the summer.
This however was the dead of winter. We were having problems long before we got to the Pack Ice. The usual north wind had generated 20ft swells and we were headed directly into them. Every time we hit a wave we would bury our bow and generate huge showers of sea spray, the spray would land on deck and immediately freeze, this created more weight, causing more spray and more ice, an endless cycle that was causing us to become top heavy and in danger of capsizing. The American crab boats would have the same problem and every year 1 or more would capsize with all hands lost. So the bos’wain was getting everyone on deck to break up the ice.
We put on sweaters and then heavy arctic parkas, this was the late 70’s, no GORTEX or other fancy stuff, cloth parkas with fur lined hoods. And thick fur lined gloves that reached to your elbow. Twenty of us mustered at the foc’sle hatch and grabbed ax handles and baseball bats and made our way onto the foc’sle. The deck crew had previously put up “Life Lines” across the deck. We grabbed these as we made our way forward. The ship had slowed down but was still rising and falling 20 ft every 15 seconds. You learned to control it with your knees. At the bottom, you flexed to take the weight, at the top you flexed to keep yourself from being launched into the sky. Like trying to stop yourself on a trampoline, only it never stops. This is one of the reasons my knees are sore to this day. 10 years of doing this stuff. When the spray hit us, we turned our backs to it. We were soon covered in ice ourselves but continue on. There was no other option. We had to get to the fishermen, and to do so we had to break off the ice.
Once on the foc’sle we started swinging our bats at the ice while others shoveled it over the side. You tried to hit the ice as hard as you could without slipping off the deck into the water. As they say one hand for the ship and one for yourself. We did this for about an hour till we had removed the danger then returned to the warm Mess deck, knowing we would have to do this again in a few hours. Ah to be in the British Navy and issued a cup of grog. Nothing for the U.S. Sailor, the puritans wouldn’t allow it. So, All night, 1 hour on deck, 2 hours getting warm, repeat.
After 2 days we finally reached the Pack Ice, this was my first time seeing it, some observations: the Swells were moving it up and down at the edges but within a few hundred yards, the swells had vanished, all the power that tossed our ship around so easily, could be tamed with a few inches of ice spread over hundreds of square mile. The Sky was blue and ice was White, whiter than anything I have ever seen, You had to wear sun glasses, even a few minutes and you would go blind. I also learned that the Ice was not one big piece, like on a lake or pond. But was constantly moving, large sections 100s of yards wide would rub up against other sections. Everything was slowly moving about, creating ridges and valleys, similar to Tectonic plates, but on a much smaller scale.
We made our way into the ice, at first we progressed easily, it was only a few inches thick and the Storis was made for this stuff, even when it thickened to 6 inches we continued on. A constant groaning sound coming from the hull. Down in the berthing area it was so loud that it was difficult to sleep.
After a day of steady progress we came to a sudden stop. The ice had become over 2 ft thick and we could go no further. At this point the Bridge watch started to look for breaks in the ice, long leads where the ice had split apart, sometimes as much as a 100 ft wide. These leads would open up, then close again a few minutes later. We would then back up and ram our way into a lead, travel a mile or so, then back and ram our way into anther lead, continually traveling in a northerly direction to the Korean Fishing trawlers.
I had established contact with the Korean trawlers earlier in the day via Morse code, everyone onboard was OK and the ships had not experienced any damage yet, but they were firmly held by the ice and being pushed towards the island a few miles away, It was critical that we get there before they went aground. The island was uninhabited, so we could expect no rescue efforts from shore, if the ships were pushed aground, the ships would break up and the men would be unable to make it ashore, they might be able to evacuate to the ice, but close to shore the ice had a habit of breaking up. It was a dicey situation…….
See Part II in next post
Wednesday, February 9, 2011
"Line of Death"
It was my first patrol after graduating from Radioman “C” school in Petaluma CA. Onboard the Coast Guard Cutter Storis out of Kodiak AK. It was the dead of winter and we were in the Bearing Sea, A place I grew to learn intimately over the next few years. But his was my first trip and an extra ordinary experience.
It started when the USSR (Russia) invaded Afghanistan. Strange to think that events on the other side of the world could impact me in the Bearing Sea. President Carter in his infinant wisdom decided to boycott the Moscow Olympics and decided that the Russians would no longer be allowed to fish in the Bearing Sea. I don't know which one upset them the most. Since we were the only military force within a thousand miles it fell to us to insure they stayed out of the fishing grounds. So the mighty Storis, a 230 foot 37 year old medium endurance cutter and her crew of 57 was the pointy end of the vast U.S. Military Industrial Complex. We were armed with a couple of 50 caliber machine guns and a 3 inch WWII era cannon. More than a match for any fishing trawler, but extremely inadequate when the first Russian Cruiser showed up, Their 8 inch guns and anti-ship missiles made it a Mike Tyson vs Pee Wee Herman cage match. We spent 2 weeks cruising up and down the line of separation or as we called it with a false bravdo the "Line of Death", using our significant reputation and fierce stares to hold back the mighty Russian Navy. Of course, we were a mere trip wire, sink us and they would have to answer to our big brother the U.S. Navy. The fact that the nearest Navy ship was off the coast of Hawaii was beside the point. If anything happended we were screwed, but hey that’s the price you pay for being the pointy end of the spear.
Any way some of the first message I ever sent where to the White House situation room. It is extremely empowering to know that the words I typed out on the Teletypewriter would be read by the President of the United States and be used by him in making decisions. True I was only relaying the Capt’s messages, but without me or my fellow radiomen, those messages would never have gotten to the President and he would have no situational awareness of what was going on at the fringes of his empire.
Back then we didn’t have satellite communications; everything had to go via High Frequency (HF) radios. This meant I had to bounce a signal off the Ionosphere, not an easy task in the far north; the Aura Borealis was constantly messing with the higher layers. I had to find the right frequency, correct power settings and just the right antenna to get a signal back to the Kodiak Communication station and then find their incoming signal. Synchronize everything and constantly adjust the demodulators to keep the signal on track. The signal was rarely good enough to receive a message correctly the first time, so we would get it several times and then piece it together. I loved the technical aspects. The problems of maintaining communications were constantly changing and required continuous innovation. We were the only link to shore and where providing a vital function to the Capt and crew.
As I said, we patrolled the line of separation, or as we called it the “the line of death” for 2 weeks until the U.S. Navy showed up and relieved us of the responsibility. As we departed the area to resume our patrol we told the Navy Destroyer to call us if they had any problems they couldn’t handle.
Obviously we were never in any real danger. The USSR was not going to start WWIII over a bunch of fishing trawler being kicked out of the Bearing Sea, But for a few days there I was at the center of an "International Incedent". God I loved my new job!
It started when the USSR (Russia) invaded Afghanistan. Strange to think that events on the other side of the world could impact me in the Bearing Sea. President Carter in his infinant wisdom decided to boycott the Moscow Olympics and decided that the Russians would no longer be allowed to fish in the Bearing Sea. I don't know which one upset them the most. Since we were the only military force within a thousand miles it fell to us to insure they stayed out of the fishing grounds. So the mighty Storis, a 230 foot 37 year old medium endurance cutter and her crew of 57 was the pointy end of the vast U.S. Military Industrial Complex. We were armed with a couple of 50 caliber machine guns and a 3 inch WWII era cannon. More than a match for any fishing trawler, but extremely inadequate when the first Russian Cruiser showed up, Their 8 inch guns and anti-ship missiles made it a Mike Tyson vs Pee Wee Herman cage match. We spent 2 weeks cruising up and down the line of separation or as we called it with a false bravdo the "Line of Death", using our significant reputation and fierce stares to hold back the mighty Russian Navy. Of course, we were a mere trip wire, sink us and they would have to answer to our big brother the U.S. Navy. The fact that the nearest Navy ship was off the coast of Hawaii was beside the point. If anything happended we were screwed, but hey that’s the price you pay for being the pointy end of the spear.
Any way some of the first message I ever sent where to the White House situation room. It is extremely empowering to know that the words I typed out on the Teletypewriter would be read by the President of the United States and be used by him in making decisions. True I was only relaying the Capt’s messages, but without me or my fellow radiomen, those messages would never have gotten to the President and he would have no situational awareness of what was going on at the fringes of his empire.
Back then we didn’t have satellite communications; everything had to go via High Frequency (HF) radios. This meant I had to bounce a signal off the Ionosphere, not an easy task in the far north; the Aura Borealis was constantly messing with the higher layers. I had to find the right frequency, correct power settings and just the right antenna to get a signal back to the Kodiak Communication station and then find their incoming signal. Synchronize everything and constantly adjust the demodulators to keep the signal on track. The signal was rarely good enough to receive a message correctly the first time, so we would get it several times and then piece it together. I loved the technical aspects. The problems of maintaining communications were constantly changing and required continuous innovation. We were the only link to shore and where providing a vital function to the Capt and crew.
As I said, we patrolled the line of separation, or as we called it the “the line of death” for 2 weeks until the U.S. Navy showed up and relieved us of the responsibility. As we departed the area to resume our patrol we told the Navy Destroyer to call us if they had any problems they couldn’t handle.
Obviously we were never in any real danger. The USSR was not going to start WWIII over a bunch of fishing trawler being kicked out of the Bearing Sea, But for a few days there I was at the center of an "International Incedent". God I loved my new job!
Thursday, February 3, 2011
Fisheries Boarding
Fisheries Boarding
One of our major missions in the Bearing during the 1980’s, was to board the foreign fishing trawlers such as the Russian, Japanese, Bulgarian, Polish, Korean, etc and check them for compliance, making sure they reported how much fish they were catching, etc.
This is not an easy task in the middle of the Bearing Sea; things are rough by nature, and waves over 15 ft make the transfer via small boat nearly impossible.
One day we came upon a Bulgarian trawler about 200 miles north of Dutch Harbor in the middle of the Bearing Sea, in about 15 ft seas with a northwest wind at 20 knots. Our job, to board and inspect the vessel. This meant getting the vessel on a course that reduced the rolling and pitching of the ship which would enable our small boat to come along side in the rough seas. Our 17ft Whale boat came alongside and received the painter (line) from the trawler, the coxswain backed down which brought us along side directly next to the Jacobs ladder, a rope ladder with wooden rungs. The small boat was bobbing up and down 15 ft every 5 seconds and slamming into the side of the ship as the waves passed underneath as the coxswain tried to keep us along side, too much reverse thrust and we would slam into the side, to little thrust and we would swing out away from the ship opening a 6ft gap that none of us could get across, and every time the ship hit a waive, it would slow down so the coxswain would have to adjust the power to compensate. It is a very tricking maneuver in rough seas, and impossible in big seas.
This particular day, the new executive officer (XO) had chosen to lead the boarding team, a trained team of 6 enlisted men to conduct the boarding, I was the senior enlisted man for the team and responsible for conducting the inspection of the fish holds and processing lines while the XO met with the ships captain and reviewed the ships documents.
This was to be the XO’s first boarding, I was responsible for getting him onto the ship, The senior person (the XO) always goes first in these situations, both for protocol reasons and leadership reasons, You don’t push your junior personnel into unknown situations, you lead them into them. I would go last; help each team member onto the ladder and then scrambling up after them.
I stood next to the coxswain, trying to steady the ladder as the XO prepared to ascend. The trick is to wait until the top of the swell, jump for the ladder and let the small boat drop from under you, then scramble up the ladder before the boat rises and slams into your legs. So the XO got ready, He hesitated on the first swell, that’s OK, you need to get your timing, he hesitated again on the second and then the third, I knew the coxswain was getting frustrated, it is hard to keep the boat along side, and things were not going to get better by waiting.
Finally on the forth wave, the XO jumped for the ladder, then froze in place, the boat dropped, then to my horror, the XO dropped also, strait down, between the small boat and the ship. He went completely under. The coxswain screamed and tried to keep the boat away from the side of the ship but a larger than normal wave hit us and pushed us into the ship. I expected to feel the soft thud of us squashing him, but we hit the side and bounced off, almost immediate the XO bobbed to the surface between us and the ship. I grabbed him by the collar and pulled him into the boat and we hit the side of the ship again. It all lasted just a few seconds, XO on ladder, XO falling, hitting side of ship, XO bobbing to the surface, XO back into the boat. I still don’t know how we didn’t crush him.
We took the XO back to our ship and got another officer to lead the boarding team. We were all a little shaky approaching that Jacobs ladder but all made it up without any further problems, conducted the boarding (no infractions) and prepared to return to the ship.
Getting back into the boat gracefully is near impossible; it is like transferring between elevators. You go down the ladder, trying to judge the top of the swell, to low and you get your feet crushed, to high and you miss the boat, get in the right position and then step into it.
We all made it no problem, We would conduct 2 or 3 of these boarding’s a day for several days and then go a week with no boarding’s as we moved to the next fishing area.
Anyway, once back onboard I went and visited the XO, he was working in his office as if nothing had happened. I asked him what happened. He said “Petty Officer Snodgrass, I honestly don’t know. I remember falling and remember coming up for air, and that’s it”.
“Oh well, glad to see you are ok” I said and turned to leave his office.
“Gary, thanks!” he said
“No problem sir” I replied and left to relieve the watch.
He was always a good XO.
One of our major missions in the Bearing during the 1980’s, was to board the foreign fishing trawlers such as the Russian, Japanese, Bulgarian, Polish, Korean, etc and check them for compliance, making sure they reported how much fish they were catching, etc.
This is not an easy task in the middle of the Bearing Sea; things are rough by nature, and waves over 15 ft make the transfer via small boat nearly impossible.
One day we came upon a Bulgarian trawler about 200 miles north of Dutch Harbor in the middle of the Bearing Sea, in about 15 ft seas with a northwest wind at 20 knots. Our job, to board and inspect the vessel. This meant getting the vessel on a course that reduced the rolling and pitching of the ship which would enable our small boat to come along side in the rough seas. Our 17ft Whale boat came alongside and received the painter (line) from the trawler, the coxswain backed down which brought us along side directly next to the Jacobs ladder, a rope ladder with wooden rungs. The small boat was bobbing up and down 15 ft every 5 seconds and slamming into the side of the ship as the waves passed underneath as the coxswain tried to keep us along side, too much reverse thrust and we would slam into the side, to little thrust and we would swing out away from the ship opening a 6ft gap that none of us could get across, and every time the ship hit a waive, it would slow down so the coxswain would have to adjust the power to compensate. It is a very tricking maneuver in rough seas, and impossible in big seas.
This particular day, the new executive officer (XO) had chosen to lead the boarding team, a trained team of 6 enlisted men to conduct the boarding, I was the senior enlisted man for the team and responsible for conducting the inspection of the fish holds and processing lines while the XO met with the ships captain and reviewed the ships documents.
This was to be the XO’s first boarding, I was responsible for getting him onto the ship, The senior person (the XO) always goes first in these situations, both for protocol reasons and leadership reasons, You don’t push your junior personnel into unknown situations, you lead them into them. I would go last; help each team member onto the ladder and then scrambling up after them.
I stood next to the coxswain, trying to steady the ladder as the XO prepared to ascend. The trick is to wait until the top of the swell, jump for the ladder and let the small boat drop from under you, then scramble up the ladder before the boat rises and slams into your legs. So the XO got ready, He hesitated on the first swell, that’s OK, you need to get your timing, he hesitated again on the second and then the third, I knew the coxswain was getting frustrated, it is hard to keep the boat along side, and things were not going to get better by waiting.
Finally on the forth wave, the XO jumped for the ladder, then froze in place, the boat dropped, then to my horror, the XO dropped also, strait down, between the small boat and the ship. He went completely under. The coxswain screamed and tried to keep the boat away from the side of the ship but a larger than normal wave hit us and pushed us into the ship. I expected to feel the soft thud of us squashing him, but we hit the side and bounced off, almost immediate the XO bobbed to the surface between us and the ship. I grabbed him by the collar and pulled him into the boat and we hit the side of the ship again. It all lasted just a few seconds, XO on ladder, XO falling, hitting side of ship, XO bobbing to the surface, XO back into the boat. I still don’t know how we didn’t crush him.
We took the XO back to our ship and got another officer to lead the boarding team. We were all a little shaky approaching that Jacobs ladder but all made it up without any further problems, conducted the boarding (no infractions) and prepared to return to the ship.
Getting back into the boat gracefully is near impossible; it is like transferring between elevators. You go down the ladder, trying to judge the top of the swell, to low and you get your feet crushed, to high and you miss the boat, get in the right position and then step into it.
We all made it no problem, We would conduct 2 or 3 of these boarding’s a day for several days and then go a week with no boarding’s as we moved to the next fishing area.
Anyway, once back onboard I went and visited the XO, he was working in his office as if nothing had happened. I asked him what happened. He said “Petty Officer Snodgrass, I honestly don’t know. I remember falling and remember coming up for air, and that’s it”.
“Oh well, glad to see you are ok” I said and turned to leave his office.
“Gary, thanks!” he said
“No problem sir” I replied and left to relieve the watch.
He was always a good XO.
Tuesday, February 1, 2011
Poverty
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