You have to love the bosun’s pipes, spyglass and flatcaps

“Ten Old Salts”  Photograph taken on board former Warship Wednesday alumni USS Hartford at Hampton Roads, Virginia, winter 1876-77, by order of Chaplain David H. Tribue, USN.

The men present are: (Front row, left to right) Seaman James H. Bell and Quartermaster Thomas Trueman;
(Second row, left to right) Boatswain’s Mate Peter Eagen, Seaman Isaac Turner and Schoolmaster James Connell;
(Rear row, left to right) Boatswain’s Mate Edward Nash, Boatswain’s Mate David Clark, Seaman William McNulty, Quarter Gunner William Harrington and Gunner’s Mate Albert Allen.

U.S. Naval History and Heritage Command Photograph.

Much as once a week I like to take time off to cover warships (Wednesdays), on Sunday, I like to cover military art and the painters, illustrators, sculptors, and the like that produced them. As always, remember to click to embiggen.

Combat Gallery Sunday: The Martial Art of Tom Lea

With this edition coming on Memorial Day weekend, I felt it best to highlight one of the most somber artists to ever cover a military subject. Further, this incredibly skilled painter did so not from photographs or through dry research, but from his own first-hand experience garnered at sea both frozen and aflame and on the bloody sand.

Thomas Calloway “Tom” Lea, III was born in El Paso, Texas on 11 July 1907. Growing up in that rough and tumble border town during the era of Poncho Villa, he had to have an armed escort to school over remarks his father, the mayor, made during that time. Leaving home in the 1920s, Lea studied at the Art Institute of Chicago and under noted muralists (remember this later).

In the 1930s, he got his first steady work as a WPA artist, painting murals in federal buildings across the state as well as in such far off places as Washington D.C., New Mexico, Illinois, and Missouri.

Mural on North Wall, West Texas Room, 1936. Oil on canvas, 7 X 13 feet. Hall of State, Dallas

In 1941, LIFE Magazine asked him to sketch troopers of the El Paso-based 8th Cavalry Regiment (1CAV DIV), which he did and in turn evolved into other requests to supply images of aviators and cannoncockers at nearby bases.

Corporal Butler, 8th Cavalry and his mount, 1941, by Tom Lea. It shows the striker of Maj. Gen. Innis P. Swift‘s aide, who was a friend of Lea’s family. Swift later went on to command I Corps in the Pacific. A colorful character who rode with Pershing chasing Villa in 1916, Swift ordered the depicted horse soldier to ride from Fort Bliss direct to Lea’s house so that he could be sketched while standing dismounted in his studio. Image via the Lea Institute.

By the fall, he was afloat on a U.S. Navy destroyer bobbing along the Atlantic Ocean on the very active Neutrality Patrol in which the man from West Texas saw the world from the heaving decks of Uncle’s tincans.

A Time and a Place, Argentina Bay, Newfoundland, 1941. This ship, the tender USS Prairie (AD-15) with three destroyers moored with her, was his first view of the fleet. Published in LIFE in May 1942, he captioned it “Like a fierce mother with three children sits the big supply ship, blinking a message to the newcomers with her high starboard light …” Oil on canvas, 25 x 40 Life Collection of Art WWII, U.S. Army Center of Military History, Fort Belvoir, Virginia

Tossing the cans, by Tom Lea, depicting the firing of a Y gun depth charge thrower

Next, he shipped out on one of the “original 8″ carriers of the U.S. Navy, USS Hornet (CV-8) for a 66-day run across the Pacific. There, in fierce service off Guadalcanal in late summer 1942, he spent more than two months on a front line carrier in the thick of the war and sketched as he found.

USS Hornet by Tom Lea

He observed the sinking of the Wasp on Sept. 15, 1942.

Carrier ace Silver Somers, by Tom Lea

On 21 October, he left the Hornet, pulling away on a fleet oiler that would land him back at Pearl Harbor. The cleared sketches would appear in LIFE in March and April 1943, sadly, after the carrier had been sunk. You see, the ship in which Lea had spent those hectic two months was sent to the bottom, sunk in the Battle of the Santa Cruz Islands, 26 October 1942– just five days after he left.

As told by Lex

Back at Pearl Harbor, Lea showed Admiral Nimitz some of his drawings. One of them was the one above. Underneath the drawing, he inscribed a quotation from Deuteronomy: “Moreover the Lord thy God shall send the hornet among them, until they that are left, and hide themselves from thee, be destroyed.”

Admiral Nimitz looked at the drawing for a long time, then turned his head to Lea, and said: “Something has happened to the Hornet.”

That was how Lea found out that the aircraft carrier he had been on, together with his friends, perished.

This he immortalized in a painting ran by LIFE of how he pictured the ship going out– fighting.

“An aircraft carrier is by her very nature a very peculiar warship, for she belongs not wholly to the sea nor sufficiently to the sky.” “Without heavy deck guns or stout armor, she is physically the most vulnerable of warships, carrying within her the seeds of her own destruction. Whenever she goes to sea she is loaded with bombs, shells and high-octane gasoline, all concealed behind her thin steel plates. ”
“Such a ship was the Hornet. She feared bombs, but also know that probably only torpedoes would sink her.”
“There is no way to describe how terrible a torpedo seems as it heads for a carrier. It leaves a strange wake, a rather thin, white, bubbly line like fluid ice, cold as the death is presages. Against the ship’s side, it explodes with an appalling concussion and a wild flash of pink flame. Within the ship, there is a terrible wrenching. Decks and bulkheads are twisted like tissue paper, and all things not secured by iron bolts are smashed.”
“The Hornet died under a moonlit sky on a shining tropical sea. She had been hit by two waves of Jap planes, the first in the morning, the second in the afternoon… Then came the last order: ‘Abandon ship.’ The men went over the side on knotted lines, down to life rafts, to floating debris, or simply to the water.”
“Behind them their ship died a smoking death.”
“The great carrier was not alone. She had destroyers and cruisers with her, and they aided in the work of hauling the Hornet’s crew from the sea. In a few hours, it was all over. Those whose fate it was to live were alive, and those who had to die were dead.”
“A tropical sunset colored the hulk of the carrier and the stars came out faintly. After dark she went down.”
-LIFE Magazine, “HORNET’S LAST DAY: Tom Lea paints death of a great carrier”

Next, fate found him landing with the 7th Marines at the green hell that was Peleliu. The 11 paintings he produced from that front line horror are some of the most haunting military art of all time and should be viewed by any politician who claims there is no alternative to starting a war.

“GOING IN – FIRST WAVE” “For an hour we plowed toward the beach, the sun above us coming down through the overcast like a silver burning ball….Over the gunwale of the craft abreast of us I saw a Marine, his face painted for the jungle, his eyes set for the beach, his mouth set for murder, his big hands quiet now in the last moments before the tough tendons drew up to kill.” Life Collection of Art WWII, U.S. Army Center of Military History, Fort Belvoir, Virginia.

“2000 YARD STARE” “Down from Bloody Ridge Too Late. He’s Finished – Washed Up – Gone”
“As we passed sick bay, still in the shell hole, it was crowded with wounded, and somehow hushed in the evening light. I noticed a tattered Marine standing quietly by a corpsman, staring stiffly at nothing. His mind had crumbled in battle, his jaw hung, and his eyes were like two black empty holes in his head. Down by the beach again, we walked silently as we passed the long line of dead Marines under the tarpaulins. He left the States 31 months ago. He was wounded in his first campaign. He has had tropical diseases. He half-sleeps at night and gouges Japs out of holes all day. Two-thirds of his company has been killed or wounded. He will return to attack this morning. How much can a human being endure?” Life Collection of Art WWII, U.S. Army Center of Military History, Fort Belvoir, Virginia.

“THE BLOCKHOUSE” “There were dead Japs on the ground were they had been hit. We walked carefully up the side of this trail littered with Jap pushcarts, smashed ammunition boxes, rusty wire, old clothes, and tattered gear. Booby traps kept us from handling any of it. Looking up at the head of the trail, I could see the big Jap blockhouse that commanded the height. The thing was now a great, jagged lump of concrete, smoking.” Life Collection of Art WWII, U.S. Army Center of Military History, Fort Belvoir, Virginia.

The Peleliu Invasion by Tom Lea

“THIS IS SAD SACK CALLING CHARLIE BLUE” “We found the battalion commander [Lt Col Edward H. Hurst, CO, 3/7]. By him sat his radioman, trying to make contact with company commands. There was an infinitely tired and plaintive patience in the radioman’s voice as he called code names, repeating time and time again, ‘This is Sad Sack calling Charlie Blue. This is Sad Sack calling Charlie Blue.’ “Life Collection of Art WWII, U.S. Army Center of Military History, Fort Belvoir, Virginia.

“SUNDOWN AT PELELIU” “Sick Bay in a Shellhole. The Padre Read, ‘I am the resurrection and the Light’ “The padre stood by with two canteens and a Bible, helping. He was deeply moved by the patient suffering and death. He looked very lonely, very close to God, as he bent over the shattered men so far from home. Corpsmen put a poncho, a shirt, a rag, anything handy, over the grey faces of the dead and carried them to a line on the beach to await the digging of graves.” Life Collection of Art WWII, U.S. Army Center of Military History, Fort Belvoir, Virginia.

“COUNTER-ATTACK” “I do not know what time it was when the counterattack came. I heard, in pauses between bursts of fire, the high-pitched; screaming yells of the Japs as they charged, somewhere out ahead. The firing would grow to crescendo, drowning out the yells, then the sound would fall dying like the recession of a wave. Looking up, I saw the earth, the splintered trees, the men on their bellies all edged against the sky by the light of the star shells like moonlight from a moon dying of jaundice. The phone rang. A battalion CO reported the Jap’s infiltration and the beginning of the counter attack. He asked what reserves were available and was told there were none. Small arms fire ahead of us became a continuous rattle. Abruptly three star shells burst in the sky. As soon as they died floating down, others flared to take their place. Then the howitzers just behind us opened up, hurling their charges over our heads, shaking the ground with their blasts.” Life Collection of Art WWII, U.S. Army Center of Military History, Fort Belvoir, Virginia.

“THE PRICE” “Lying in terror looking longingly up the slope to better cover, I saw a wounded man near me, staggering in the direction of the LVTs. His face was half-bloody pulp and the mangled shreds of what was left of an arm hung down like a stick, as he bent over in the stumbling, shock-crazy walk. The half of his face that was still human had the most terrifying look of abject patiences I have ever seen. He fell behind me, in a red puddle on the white sand.” Life Collection of Art WWII, U.S. Army Center of Military History, Fort Belvoir, Virginia.

“We saw a Jap running along an inner ring of the reef, from the stony eastern point of the peninsula below us. Our patrol cut down on him and shot very badly, for he did not fall until he had run 100 yards along the coral. Another Jap popped out running and the marines had sharpened their sites. The Jap ran less than 20 steps when a volley cut him in two and his disjointed body splattered into the surf.” Life Collection of Art WWII, U.S. Army Center of Military History, Fort Belvoir, Virginia.

Base sketch for the above, from the UTSA Libraries Special Collections.

From the El Paso Times:

After taking his paintings to Life headquarters in New York, Tom heard what happened: The paintings were lined up so the managing editor Daniel Longwell could review them. Longwell entered, looked, and said: “Print every damn one of them in color, and I never want to see them again.”

It was also his last wartime assignment.

After the war he remained active and produced art for books and novels, while trying his hand as an author and historian.

Marrakech Tom Lea 1947

Muster at Bore 60 1973 tom lea

And There He Was by Tom Lea

Tom Lea following his last wartime tour as a LIFE artist correspondent – landing on the island of Peleliu with the 1st battalion 7th Marines. On the easel is The Price, 1944.

Much as he was born in El Paso and lived most of his life there, he also passed away there in 2001 at age 93. He is buried in the city next to his wife, whose portrait reportedly took him the longest of all paintings to complete.

Today, his trail of murals are celebrated across the Lone Star State while the Tom Lea Institute is located in El Paso  which produces the annual Tom Lea Month celebration in the city.

His work is on public display a numerous U.S. Army museums and bases, the Smithsonian, the White House, as well as galleries and museums across the Southwest.

Thank you for your work, sir.

Here at LSOZI, we are going to take off every Wednesday for a look at the old steam/diesel navies of the 1859-1946 time period and will profile a different ship each week. These ships have a life, a tale all of their own, which sometimes takes them to the strangest places.
– Christopher Eger

Warship Wednesday May 27, 2015 The coldest boat in the Russian Navy

Click to big up

Here we see the unique vessel of the Tsar’s Imperial Russian Navy, the icebreaker Yermak (also spelled Ермак, Ermak, and Yermack due to transliteration) doing what she did best—breaking sea ice. She was the first true modern sea-going icebreaker in any navy and lasted an impressive 80~ years and through five world wars in which she got bloodier than could be expected for a ship of her type.

In the late 1890s, polar exploration was all the rage and Holy Russia, pushing ever further to control the Western Pacific, sought to join Europe and Asia via the Northeast Passage across the top of the country. The thing is, the ships that had tried this arduous journey had all failed. One renowned Russian polar explorer and naval officer, Stepan Makarov, fresh off his expeditions to the mouth of the north-flowing Siberian rivers Ob and Yenisei, proposed a radical new steel-hulled steamship with powerful engines and screws on both the stern and bow, ready to chop up polar ice as she went.

Note the close arrangement of her three stern screws

The ship, some 319 feet long and 70 abeam, was very tubby in design. Six boilers fed either three shafts aft or one forward, allowing her to back and ram if needed– now standard procedure for icebreakers but novel at the time. Speaking of bow, she had a strengthened hull of 29 mm plate steel sandwiched with oak and cork to allow her to break sea ice at over 7 feet thick.

Under construction. Note the strengthened steel ‘nose’ over which in essence a second double hull would be constructed.

Her twin 55-foot high stacks and round sloping bow with small stem and flare angles made her readily distinguishable and came to typify early icebreaker design. Even today, her hull form is imitated in even the most advanced polar icebreaker design.

The resulting design was authorized by Count Witte in 1897 at the cost of 3 million gold rubles and ordered abroad to ensure fast and reliable delivery. Laid down in December at Sir W.G. Armstrong, Whitworth & Co Ltd, Newcastle upon Tyne, she was completed 29 January 1899– and delivered at half the price.

Launching

On trails. How many times have you seen an icebreaker with a bone in her mouth?

She carried the name of cossack ataman (head man) Vasiliy `Yermak` Timofeyevich Alenin, the Don Cossack who conquered Siberia under the reign of Ivan the Terrible in the 1580s, her purpose was clear.

Surikov’s “The Conquest of Siberia by Yermak” The cossack swashbuckler took 800 men east and won an empire from the khans of the tartars and tribal people of the region that the Russians hold until today.

Arriving at the headquarters of the Russian Baltic Fleet in March after a ten day voyage from the UK, Yermak made her smashing debut ( I love a pun) by breaking her way into the ice-bound harbor Kronstadt and then up the Neva River to St. Petersburg– where thousands thronged to see her across the frozen river.

Yermak in St Petersburg on the Neva

By that November, she came in handy. The massive 12,500-ton armored cruiser Gromoboi had been forced by early ice from her moorings to the shore, and future ice movement threatened to sink the ship. Three days later, Yermak pulled her free.

Then, just weeks later, she had to help pull the 4,200-ton Admiral Ushakov-class coastal defense ship General Admiral Graf Apraksin from the rocks and tow her back to Kronstadt.

Yermack was the first polar icebreaker in the world, colorized photo of it assisting the Graf Apraksin in 1899. Whoever colorized the photo neglected to add the correct cap bands to the breaker, which should be blue.

She was one of the first ships to use a wireless for rescue at sea when she rescued 27 lost Finnish fishermen from the rocks near Hango and transmitted the fact to a land station there with the help of Professor Alexander Stepanovich Popov (the Russian Marconi) who had set up a station near Apraksin and relayed messages back and forth.

“Icebreaker ” Yermak “, who worked for the removal of stones from the battleship “Adm. Apraksin “, saved the 10th February 1900 27 fishermen, the news of the death of the first of which was received on a radio installation”

In 1901 Yermak helped Makarov complete his Third (and last) Siberian exploration expedition, reaching as far as Nova Zemyla. It was the last time the admiral was aboard the ship that was his magnum opus.

Painting by M. G. Platunova “First swimming polar icebreaker Ermak,” depicting her first encounter with polar sea ice. Note her buff superstructure and blue cap bands.

Makarov, sadly the best Russian naval mind of his era, was blown sky high on his flagship, the battleship Petropavlovsk, on a sortie out of Port Arthur in 1904.

During the Russo-Japanese War, Yermak helped rush reinforcements to the front, freeing first the cruisers of Capt. Yegoryev’s unit in February 1904 from Libau and then the 12 ships of Rear Admiral Nebogatov’s division the next January.

In port, click to big up

She was ordered to follow the fleet as a coal supply ship and, once in the Pacific, assist in helping to Vladivostok free of ice. Five days after leaving Russian waters however, Yermak suffered a shaft failure, which Adm. Rozhdestvensky, enraged at the time, did not believe, and took as an act of mutiny until he personally came aboard and verified it himself.

In the end, she was allowed to limp back to Kronstadt after cross-decking a number of her officers and crew to other vessels that were short. This act saved Yermak from what would certainly have been death at the hands of the Japanese at Tsushima (though not the men she transferred).

In the summer of 1905, with the completion of the Trans-Siberian Railway all-important to a Russian victory in the Far East and her shaft repaired, she escorted supplies and rails for the project to along the Russian Arctic coast to the mouth of the Yenisey River, about half way the distance.

Yermak in heavy sea ice

A great stern shot in warm waters. Click to big up

She conducted some of the first through-ice dives in frozen waters

With the war over, she went back to merchant and research service, breaking ice around the Baltic. In 1908, she rescued her third warship when she pulled the cruiser Oleg from the ice off Finland.

By the time of the next war in 1914, Yermak was armed with some small deck guns to help ward off German submarines but again stuck to breaking out Russian warships when needed. This included freeing the cruiser Rurik for a sortie in March 1915 and the battleships Slava and Tsarveitch. Stationed in Revel for most of the war and with little for an icebreaker to do in summer months, she served as a depot ship for submarines.

Note the mascot and Tsarist uniforms with British influence

When the rest of the Baltic Fleet raised the red flag in March 1917, she was one of the last ships to do so and even then her crew re-elected her longtime skipper, Estonian-born Capt. Rudolf Karlovich Felman, who had commanded the ship since 1903– one of the few fleet vessels to do so.

However, Felman in the end was kicked out in November with the coming of the Bolsheviks and promptly left Russia only to find easy work in Estonian service. He was the longest serving of her more than 21 captains spanning seven decades.

Felman. This intrepid polar explorer and ship driver lived until 1928

With the Germans fast approaching and the war at its end (for the Russians anyway) Yermak sailed from Revel to Helsinki and broke out the fleet to include 7 battleships, 9 cruisers and 200~ misc vessels so that they could assemble in Kronstadt and not fall into the Kaiser’s hands. This event was later referred to as the Great Ice Cruise of the Baltic Fleet, and is seen as saving the Soviet Navy. (It should be noted that the Whites sailed away in 1920 and 22 with the majority of serviceable vessels of the Black Sea and Pacific fleets respectively, leaving only those in the Baltic under the Red Flag)

At the end of March, Yermak tried to return to Helsinki with a contingent of Red Navy sailors to seize the town but after trading some naval artillery with the local Finnish ship Tarmo (2400-tons, 1 47mm gun), she turned back around when a German plane dropped a few small bombs danger close to the hapless Russian icebreaker.

Nonetheless, her service in the Revolution and later Civil War, where her crew were sent to fight on land, earned her the Revolutionary Red Banner of the Central Executive Committee for outstanding service in her third war.

By 1921, she was disarmed and back in service around the Baltic since she was one of the few operational vessels left. She was even loaned to the Germans in 1929 (at a price of 1 million DM, which was music to the ears of the cash-strapped Kremlin) to open the Kiel Canal early.

In 1935, she made an Arctic expedition equipped with a seaplane and helped pick up floating North Pole Station 1 under the famous explorer Ivan Papanin, cementing her place in polar history.

Note the Red Banner flag

Yermak’s fourth conflict, the Russo-Finnish Winter War; saw her again armed, this time much more heavily. In December of that year, the Finns came close to sinking the old girl when the German-built submarine Vetehinen (Merman) stalked her without success over an 8-day period off Libau. By early 1940, Yermak helped escort Soviet Naval troops to occupy disputed islands in the Gulf of Finland—and again was scrapping with her old Civil War enemy, the Finnish Tarmo, without effect.

Click to big up

In 1941, her fifth war was upon her and she was soon going toe to toe with German and Finnish bombers and attack planes. According to Soviet historians, Yermak‘s gunners splashed 36 aircraft during the war while, again, she served as a depot and berthing ship for submarines as needed. In 1942, with the Axis powers closing in on Leningrad, most of her armament was shipped to the front, with all but 15 of her crew going with it to fight on shore as they had in the Civil War.

By 1944, disarmed, and her crew of dirt sailors advancing on Berlin, Yermak was transferred back to merchant service with the ship earning the Order of Lenin for her WWII service.

1950, at this point she had seen a solid half-century of service.

By 1950, after inspection found her half-century old hull still sound, she was sent to Antwerp for refit and then assigned to the White Sea based at Murmansk. Her floatplane long since gone, she was given a helicopter and pad in 1954 and spent the next decade assisting in breaking submarines in and out of Poliarni as well as escorting seal fishing expeditions out into the Arctic.

With new atomic icebreakers coming into Soviet service, the days of the old steam Yermak were numbered. On 23 May 1963, she was withdrawn from service and, when a bid to preserve her as a museum failed, she was ordered stripped. Her good British steel was stolen from her and everything of value slowly disappeared over a ten-year period.

What was left was burned 17 December 1975 in the bleak ship cemetery at nearby Gadzhiyevo. It is believed that part of her keel is still visible at the radioactive summer low tide in that rusty ship graveyard today.

Her monument in Murmansk

A monument stands to her in Murmansk that includes one of her anchors, while a number of stamps have been issued by the Soviets and Russians to honor her memory. She has also been commemorated in Soviet maritime art.

Icebreaker Yermak by noted Soviet maritime artist Eugene Voishvillo

Yermak at revel by Yuri Sorokin

A 20,000-ton icebreaker (made ironically in Finland) was commissioned in 1974 with her old name and continues service today.

In a twist of Baltic fate, Yermak’s lontime nemesis, the Finnish icebreaker Tarmo, retired in 1970, has been preserved in the Maritime Museum of Finland in Kotka since 1992. Her hull, also built by Armstrong, is still sound.

Tarmo via Wiki Via wiki

Specs:

Displacement 7875 tons as designed, 10,000 by 1941
Length 319 feet
Width 70.8 feet
Draft 24 feet
Engines steam engines, 10,000 hp as designed
Three shafts, VTE steam engines, 6 boilers. Bow shaft as designed (removed in 1935)
Speed: 15 knots when new. 10 by 1939
Cruising range 5000 miles on 2200 tons of coal (bunkerage for 3,000 if needed). Coal consumption was 100 tons per day while underway.
Crew 89 as designed with berths for 102, 166 in naval service, 250 in 1939
Armament: 1914-1921: 2-4 small mounts of unknown caliber
1939-42ish:
2x 102 mm/45 (4″) B-2 Pattern 1930 mounts
4x 76.2 mm/30 (3″) Pattern 1914/15 mounts
4×45 mm/46 (1.77″) 21-K anti-tank guns in navalized AAA mounts
4x quad Maxim machineguns on GAZ-4M-AA mounts

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Much as once a week I like to take time off to cover warships (Wednesdays), on Sunday, I like to cover military art and the painters, illustrators, sculptors, and the like that produced them.

Combat Gallery Sunday : The Martial Art of Eugene Voishvillo

Eugene Valerianovich Voishvillo was born in Libau (now Liepāja, Latvia) in the Holy Russian Empire in 1907. The son of a naval engineer in the Tsar’s Navy, he had a love of the sea and saw the fleet everyday as a child. In 1927 he obtained entrance to the highly competitive Academy of Fine Arts (which accepted only 40 candidates out of hundreds of applicants each year) but after just a year there, he left to join the Soviet Navy. Training as a seaplane mechanic, he left the fleet in 1930 and took a job at a child’s toy factory in Leningrad, where he created concept drawings and toy illustrations.

When war came in 1941, he was recalled to the Navy as a Marine in a coastal artillery unit, even though he was a 34-year-old father. However he soon was given a job at the fleet newspaper Za Sovetskuyu Rodinu (For the Soviet Motherland), commonly just referred to as ZSR, after his skills with a pencil were noticed.

As the war progressed, he was a senior draftsman and helped illustrate maps and charts as well as texts for the Voroshilov Naval Academy.

Demobilized in 1948, he transitioned into drawing and painting for a number of Warsaw Pact nautical and shipbuilding publications as a member of the Union of Artists, producing more than 150 circulated prints of various warships and sailing vessels.

The Santa Maria

The German Navy Schulschiff Deutschland

The Donald McKay shipyard, East Boston built clipper Lightning. She made the New York to Liverpool run in 13 days, 19½ hours, all under sail and was known to break 19 knots, outrunning many steamships of the time.

He gained an unofficial fan club as across the Soviet Union people cut out his drawings and decorated their walls and after a time most nautical schools, club and ship-modeling groups soon had his art as standard decor. He had a flavor for ships involved in polar exploration and I have used his paintings in several Warship Wednesdays (such as on the St. Anne and the Yermak)

The 1,500 ton training barque Tovarish (formerly Kreigsmarine’s Gorch Fock)

Steamship Savannah

Nuclear icebreaker Lenin meets the elderly Yermak

Peter The Great’s first Russian Naval ship

His magnum opus was a series of 60 paintings of historical oceanography ships (primarily Russian) for the World Ocean Museum in Kaliningrad during the 1980s and early 1990s many of which were used for stamps, seals, and posters not only in Soviet Bloc countries but worldwide.

Baron Toll’s ill-fated 450-ton steam- and sail-powered brig Zarya on the 1900-1902 Russian Polar Expedition

Fridtjof Nansen’s Fram

The 92-foot 1,450-ton Swedish motor schooner Albatross circumnavigated the globe on a research trip in the late 1940s

The Danish-built ice strengthened steamship SS Chelyuskin, built in 1933 for an attempt by the Soviets to run through the Northeast passage from Europe to Asia, she had to be abandoned in the ice in 1934.

Lt. Georgy Sedov on his doomed ship the St Foka

HMS Beagle of Darwin fame

The 1,500-ton German Reichsmarine colonial gunboat turned survey ship Meteor, who survived both World Wars only to end up in the Soviet Navy until 1968

The German Imperial corvette Gazelle on China Station

Capt.Cook’s HMS Endeavor

HMS Discovery on the British Arctic Expedition of 1875–1876

He died in 1993 in Latvia after living through the Tsar, Lenin, Stalin, Kruschev, Brenzev, two world wars, a revolution, civil war and the like, all with an upbeat outlook on life. As long as he had a canvas or piece of paper and a ship to draw or paint, he was satisfied.

When speaking about his paintings, he said, “”And yet I have lived a happy life. I painted what I loved.”

In 2009, the immense 376-foot long Russian training bark Kruzenshtern took 15 of his paintings on a world-wide cruise. The World Ocean Museum has 83 paintings and 74 other illustrations by Voishvillo on display.

Thank you for your work, sir.

Here we see at least 20 inactivated boats of the WWII-era Salmon/Sargo, Gato, and Balao classes at rest at Mare Island, California on 3 January 1946.

Click to bigup USN photo # 17-46, courtesy of Darryl L. Baker. Text courtesy of David Johnston, USNR. Photo via Navsource

Front row left to right: Sand Lance (SS-381), next two could be Sealion (SS-315) and Seahorse (SS-304), Searaven (SS-196), Pampanito (SS-383), Gurnard (SS-254), Mingo (SS-261), Guitarro (SS-363), Bashaw (SS-241).

Back row left to right: Unknown, Tunny (SS-282), next three could be Sargo (SS-188), Spearfish (SS-190), and Saury (SS-189), Macabi (SS-375), Sunfish (SS-281), Guavina (SS-362), Lionfish (SS-298),Piranha (SS-389).
The Scabbardfish (SS-397) is docked in ARD-11 on the other side of the causeway.

Although out of commission, most of these boats remained in pier-side service as classroom for Naval Reserve units for years and many returned to active duty in either the U.S. or allied fleets– in fact, two are still afloat today.

• Sand Lance would be transferred to Brazil as the Rio Grande do Sul (S-11) in 1962 and struck ten years later.
• Sealion who sank the Japanese battleship Kongō, would be recalled to operate in Korea and as a SEAL boat in Vietnam, would be struck in 1977 and sunk as a target off Newport on 8 July 1978.
• Seahorse would never be beautiful again and would be sold for scrap, 4 December 1968.
• Searaven, who tried to reinforce Corregidor, was A-bombed at Bikini then sunk as a target off southern California on 11 September 1948.
• Pampanito has been a museum ship in San Francisco since 21 November 1975.
• Gunard was sold for scrap, 29 October 1961.
• Mingo was transferred to Japan in 1955 as the Kuroshio, then sunk as a target in 1973.
• Guitarro was transferred to Turkey as TCG Preveze (S 340) and remained in service until 1972.
• Bashaw was GUPPY’d and returned to service until 1969 then scrapped in 1972.
• Tunny gave hard service in Korea and Vietnam, then expended as a target in 1970.
• Sargo, another Corregidor vet, was scrapped in 1947.
• Spearfish was likewise scrapped in 1947.
• Macabi was transferred to Argentina as ARA Santa Fe (S-11) and remained in service until 1971.
• Sunfish only left Mare Island again when was scrapped in 1960.
• Guavina was converted to a submarine tanker (AGSS-362) and was to be used to refuel P6M SeaMaster strategic flying boats at sea. However, as SeaMaster never took off, she was scrapped sunk as a target off Cape Henry, 14 November 1967 (see below).
• Piranha was scrapped in 1970 after 24 years at Mare Island.
• Lionfish was brought back for Korea and after she was finally struck was donated to become a museum ship at Battleship Cove, Fall River, Massachusetts in 1972.
• Scabbardfish was transferred to Greece as Triaina (S-86) and remained in service until 1980– the longest-serving of the above subs.
• As for ARD-11, the Auxiliary Repair Dock, she was given to Mexico in 1974 and her final fate is unknown.

USS Guavina (AGSS-362), refueling a P5M-1 Marlin flying boat off Norfolk, Virginia (USA), in 1955. Prior to World War II several submarines were fitted to refuel seaplanes. During the war, Germany and Japan used this technique with some success. After the war this technique was experimented with within the US Navy. It was planned to use submarines to refuel the new jet powered P6M Seamaster flying boats. As part of this program Guavina was converted to carry 160,000 gallons for aviation fuel. To do this blisters were added to her sides and two stern torpedo tubes were removed. When the P6M project was canceled, there was no further need for submarine tankers. This concept was never used operationally in the US Navy.

Here at LSOZI, we are going to take off every Wednesday for a look at the old steam/diesel navies of the 1859-1946 time period and will profile a different ship each week. These ships have a life, a tale all of their own, which sometimes takes them to the strangest places. – Christopher Eger

Warship Wednesday June 3, 2015 Roll Tide

Here we see “You Can Run” by naval artist Tom Freeman depicting the screw sloop-of-war Confederate States Ship Alabama chasing down the Yankee clipper Contest in November 1863. The Alabama, who captured an amazing 64 ships, of which she burned and sank 45 and paroled another ten, was the most successful surface raider in naval history.

In addition, perhaps no ship saw a greater number of ironies in her brief life (see how many you can spot).

Although the Confederate Navy picked up a few captured U.S. Naval ships (included the burned out frigate Merrimack) and Revenue Service Cutters, as well as a good number of naval officers of Southern heritage, they were short of legitimate combat ships. Further, most of the naval yards worth anything were in New England, which meant that they simply could not be built. With this, Confederate Secretary of the Navy Stephen Russell Mallory sent agents abroad looking for warships. In the end, the best bet turned out to be in Great Britain where Commander James Dunwoody Bulloch, CSN, arranged for at least three commerce raiders and a pair of ironclads to be completed.

Arguably, the most famous and successful of this handful of ships was the CSS Alabama.

Bulloch, whose primary job was turning raw Southern cotton smuggled past the Union blockade into cash for guns, munitions and other supplies for the Confederate government, which in turn would be ran back through the U.S. fleet, managed to contract with John Laird Sons & Company (today’s Cammell Laird) to construct a steamship with a sloop auxiliary rig (and weight and space reserved for naval guns) on August 1, 1861, just months after Bull Run. Constructed in Liverpool as hull number 290, and christened in 1862 with the bogus name Enrica, she ran her trials at sea in June 1862.

She was handy, at 220-feet overall and light with a 17 foot depth of hold and 1,050-ton displacement. On her twin steam engines pushing a single iron screw, she could make 13-ish knots, or hoist her extensive barkentine-rig and make close that amount in the right conditions.

Bulloch was originally to be the commander of the ship and assisted in her fitting out, acquiring stores and arms for the new cruiser but not mounting them as he was under watch by Union agents. As U.S. Ambassador Charles Adams (son and grandson respectively of 2 presidents of the same name) pressured the Brits to seize her, Bulloch weighed anchor just ahead of customs officials, claiming to just be taking her out on a brief sunset turn around. Slipping the brand new 9-gun sloop USS Tuscarora, he put to sea.

Instead of sailing under Bulloch, 52-year-old CDR Raphael Semmes (soon to be promoted to Capt.), late of the abandoned and broken-down commerce raider CSS Sumter, was dispatched from Bermuda to Porto Praya, Azores with the former officers of the Sumter, where they met Bulloch on the Enrica, which was crewed by mildly amused British merchantmen. After arming the ship and relieving the Brits, which Bulloch returned to England with, Semmes and his crew commissioned the CSS Alabama on 24 Aug, 1862.

Deck plan of Alabama, note guns

Her armament, fitted above deck, was British. It consisted of a pair of “Royal Navy-style” smoothbore 6 inch 32-pounders, 4 6-inch 32-pound Blakely patent cannon cast specifically for the CSS Alabama by Fawcett, Preston & Company in Liverpool, one 7-inch 110-pounder Blakely rifle forward on a pivoting mount and a single 68-pounder (solid shot) 8 inch smoothbore pivot aft. In all, eight guns. Added to this was a stock of British and French musket rifles, revolvers, pistols, boarding hatchets and cutlasses. However, as she only had a single gray-coated Marine, Lt Beckett K. Howell, one of only 58 appointed officers in the Confederate States Marine Corps, (and Brother in Law to President of the Confederacy Jefferson Davis), these were to be used by the ship’s bluejackets.

Or should we say Jack Tars? You see, Semmes only arrived with a handful of officers, and had to shop around among the Brits and other foreign sailors at hand to sign up, of which about 80 did. As her guns alone required that many men to crew them, she was shorthanded.

Although the Alabama never saw a southern port, the British-built (and largely crewed) ship with her skipper from Maryland carved a name for herself in the hides of the U.S. Navy and merchant fleets for the next 22 months.

“The Pirate ‘Alabama,’ Alias ‘290,’ Certified to be correct by Captain Hagar of the ‘Brilliant'” Line engraving published in “Harper’s Weekly”, 1862, depicting CSS Alabama burning a prize in Harper’s Weekly.US Naval History and Heritage Command photo # NH 58738

Art from Harper’s Weekly image

First, she sailed around the North Atlantic, sinking 20 Yankee ships, mainly whalers, and captured and released three others. Then, proceeding to Fort Royal, Martinique, she refueled, recruited more crew members in that colonial port, and gave the 12-gun screw frigate USS San Jacinto the slip and broke into the Gulf of Mexico. It was of note that her crew was often fleshed out by volunteers from ships she captured and sank and included men from Germany Russia, and France.

Alabama’s cruise from SCV Adm Semmes Camp

Off Texas, on 11 January 1863 she engaged the 1,126-ton paddlewheel steamer USS Hatteras off Galveston. As the Hatteras got close enough to the Alabama to be sucker punched before Semmes struck her British ensign (masquerading as HMS Petrel) and raised the Confederate Stars and Bars, and the fact that the Union gunboat had less than half the armament, Alabama sent her to the bottom within 20 minutes. Ever the gentleman pirate, Semmes picked up her crew and transported them to Jamaica.

The Fatal Chase by Tom Freeman. The USS Hatteras engages the Confederate raider CSS Alabama. Hatteras was sunk in the ensuing battle

From Semmes’s postwar account:

As Captain Blake of the Hatteras (whom I had known in the old service) came on deck, he remarked upon the speed we were making, and gracefully saluted me with, “Fortune favors the brave, sir!” I wished him a pleasant voyage with us; and I am sure he, with his officers and men, received every attention while on board the Alabama.

With the Gulf too hot, she slipped into the South Atlantic and slaughtered 29 Yankee merchies in those waters, primarily off the coast of Brazil.

CSS Alabama enters Table Bay at 10:00 AM August 5, 1863. She is increasing speed in order to capture the Sea Bride before she can escape to within one league of S.African territorial waters. This painting commissioned by Ken Sheppard of South Africa. Via the CSS Alabama Assoc

Next, she put in at Cape Town, South Africa, where most of the images of her decks were taken. It was there that she added more members to her crew to include naval adventurer and soldier of fortune Baron Maximilian von Meulnier, late of the Imperial Prussian Navy.

Captain Raphael Semmes CSN, CSS Alabama’s commanding officer, standing by his ship’s 68-pounder smoothebore during her visit to Capetown in August 1863. His executive officer, First Lieutenant John M. Kell CSN, is in the background, standing by the ship’s wheel. US Naval History and Heritage Command photo # NH 57256 from the collection of Rear Admiral Ammen C. Farenholt, USN(MC), 1931. Via Navsource

Two of the CSS Alabama’s officers on deck, during her visit to Capetown in August 1863. They are Lieutenant Arthur Sinclair IV, (left) and Lieutenant Richard F. Armstrong (USNA 1861). The gun beside them is a 32-pounder of Lt. Sinclair’s Division. Halftone image, copied from Sinclair’s book, “Two Years on the Alabama”. US Naval History and Heritage Command photo # NH 57255. via Navsource

Georga native Midshipman Edwin Moffat Anderson next to a RN pattern 32 pounder which may be the one on display currently in Mobile. Note the naval cutlass and gray Army type uniform. He later went on to serve on the CSS Owl and was the next to last of Alabama’s officers to die when he passed away in 1923 in Savannah, only beaten by Sinclair who passed in 1925. The unimpressed British Jack behind him is classic.

Kell and the 68-pounder. US Naval History and Heritage Command photo # NH 57257

Crewmen on the deck of the Confederate commerce raider CSS Alabama off the coast of Cape Town, South Africa, 1863.

Crossing into the Indian Ocean and into the Pacific, she found her hunting grounds much reduced in those far-flung waters. In Singapore, she had her picture taken (one of just two of her profile known to be in existence) and Englishman Hugh Rowland Beaver of Cumming, Beaver and Co. who helped whistle up enough supplies to keep Alabama in the war. After coaling and dispatching a letter to Malloy back in Virginia, Semmes was off again.

Alabama in Singapore. Note instead of the Stars and Bars she is flying the Stainless Banner

Heading back to European waters where Semmes thought the pickings would be better (and Alabama could get a much-needed refit) she arrived in Cherbourg on 11 June 1864. There Semmes noted, “Our little ship was now showing signs of the active work she had been doing. Her boilers were burned out, and her machinery was sadly in want of repairs.”

She deserved a rest; after all, she had captured no less than 64 vessels in over 500 days at sea and won a naval engagement against a (weaker) adversary while slipping dozens of stronger ones. In a sign of how dignified warfare was on the high seas in this age, Alabama paroled over 2,000 merchant sailors she captured– landing them in nearby ports rather than leaving them adrift on the waves– and not a single civilian was ever killed by the raider.

But everything has to come  to an end…

Just three days after she made France, the Mohican-class screw sloop of war USS Kearsarge, steamed into the harbor, alerted to the wiley raider’s presence there by telegraph while in a Spanish port. Although shorter (201-feet) the Kearsarge was built from the keel-up with combat in mind, weighing half again as much as Alabama and mounting nine guns– including a pair of very dangerous 11-inch Dahlgren smoothbore pivot cannons that fired 130-pounder shells.

Further, where Semmes had a scratch 140 man multinational crew and a ship that was falling apart, Kersarge‘s North Carolina-born Capt. John Ancrum Winslow, had a pair of aces up his sleeve. These included the fact that his 160+ man crew was highly trained, and that he had secretly wrapped his ship’s critical engineering spaces in over 700-feet of anchor chain secured to the hull and bolted into place, in effect, giving him crude armor plating. His powder was fresh, his decks were clear, and he wanted to clean Semmes’s clock.

Capt. John A. Winslow (3d from left) and officers on board the U.S.S. Kearsarge after sinking the C.S.S. Alabama, 1864. Note the bad ass 11-inch Dahlgren

(Note: The two skippers had served together earlier in their career on the old three master USS Raritan, Semmes as the ship’s flag lieutenant and Winslow as a division officer, even sharing a cabin).

Semmes slapped Winslow across the face with an open challenge, sending the message:

“My intention is to fight the Kearsarge as soon as I can make the necessary arrangements. I hope they will not detain me more than until tomorrow evening or after the morrow morning at furthest. I beg she will not depart before I am ready to go out.”

While the locals stirred about the coming scrap between the two ships, the French forced Kearsarge out to sea, where she waited for Alabama. One of the most powerful ships in the world, the 6,500-ton 30-gun French ironclad Couronne (“Crown”) stood by as her crew anxiously waited for the bloodletting. On the afternoon of June 19, the fight was on in front of a delighted host of European spectators who were thrilled to watch a pair of American vessels locked in a knife fight–and it was a barroom brawl of a naval action.

Semmes fired first, trying to get the same type of fast kill as he had achieved on USS Hatteras the year before, but his shots were ineffective, likely due to poor quality powder and stale fuses as much to Kearsarge’s chainmail.

Winslow waited until the British-built cruiser was within 1,000 yards and clobbered her.

The ships locked horns in a series of seven circles, slowing trying to out-maneuver each other without success. After all, their skippers had read the same naval textbooks so why not? In all, reports estimate that while Alabama got off more than 300 shots, Kearsarge was barely damaged; suffering four casualties after just three rounds hit his vessel. Alabama on the other hand, was a wreck after less than an hour of combat and was shipping water from the big Yankee’s 11-inchers.

7-circle chart of the battle off Cherbourg as recorded by American landscape painter and Union Army map-maker Robert Knox Sneden in the Library of Congress. Sneden was in Andersonville at the time of the battle after being captured by Confederate troops under John S. Mosby in 1863, but produced it from logs and charts from Kearsarge after the war. This chart was lost to history for more than a century until it popped up in 1994 in a bank vault in Connecticut and donated to the Virginia Historical Society. Click to big up

The battle has been a favorite of painters and perhaps the most famous work, “Kearsarge and the Alabama” was created by one of no less skill than Édouard Manet.

The Battle of the USS Kearsarge and the CSS Alabama By Claude Monet hanging today at the Philadelphia Museum of Art. Click to big up

Painting by Xanthus Smith, 1922, depicts Alabama sinking by the stern, at left, after her fight with Kearsarge (seen at right). NHHC Photo K-29827.

CSS Alabama Sunday Showdown Archival Print.

Antonio Jacobsen’s ” ALABAMA vs KERSARGE” Click to big up

Nine Alabama crewmembers were killed during the battle, 12 drowned when the ship sank and 70 picked up by Kearsarge from the sea, while Semmes and a handful of officers and men managed to make it to the British yacht Deerhound who sped them away to England. There, they were celebrated.

Semmes, who recovered the Stainless Banner of the Alabama, ran back into Hugh Beaver (the Singapore connection) and presented the flag to the Englishman with the deep pockets in appreciation.

Her Cherbourg flag.

The 69×34 inch wool bunting ensign still exists and was sold at auction in 2011. As the rest of her flags were lost at sea, this one was unique. Semmes had been given a beautiful and much larger silk battle-flag by English society women after the battle which he took back to the C.S. with him.

Semmes made his way back to Virginia where he was made an admiral and given commanded first the James River Squadron then a unit of infantry (as a Brig. Gen) late in the war. He later moved to Mobile, Alabama where he died of eating bad shrimp in 1877. Nevertheless, he had outlived Winslow who retired in 1872 and died the next year in Boston, buried draped in the Kearsarge ‘s own Cherbourg battle flag.

The City of Mobile has many Semmes artifacts in their museum, including the admiral’s sword presented to him after the war (he threw his own into the sea rather than let Winslow have it), his wartime 36 cal. Houllier & Blanchard Navy revolver, the silk flag given to him in England after the loss of his ship and the Alabama‘s commissioning pennant.

Semme’s presentation Admiral’s sword, a copy of his book and a scrimshawed whale’s tooth captured from a Yankee whaler in the City of Mobile collection. Chris Eger photo.Click to bigup the scrimshaw work on the tooth.

This U.S. Navy 27-star commissioning pennant was used above CSS Alabama to bring her into service next to a model of the ship. Her 4th Lt., John Low had it in his possession from his father’s term in the old Republic’s fleet and offered it up. Low would later leave Alabama with it when he took command of the CSS Tuscaloosa (formerly the bark Conrad captured by the raider on 21 June 1863). The pennant along with Low’s dolphin-handled British pattern naval officer’s sword is in the City of Mobile collection. Chris Eger photo

Semmes rare 1862-issued 36 cal. Houllier & Blanchard Navy revolver at the City of Mobile Museum. Chris Eger photo. Click to big up. And YES, I will be covering this amazing weapon in more detail in a later article

Alabama’s wreck was discovered by the 152-foot French Navy mine hunter (chasseur de mines) Circé  in November 1984 in 190-feet of water some 6 miles off the coast of Cherbourg. Between 1988 and 2008, with agreements of the U.S. government (who own the wreck as a war grave) and the French Republic (as its inside territorial waters) she has been extensively salvaged.

One of her RN-style 32 pounders, scrimshaw from ship’s Engineer William Param Brooks and other artifacts recovered from her wreck are in Mobile at the City Museum. The U.S. Navy has over 500 Alabama artifacts in its collection and many are spread over the world on loan, including her 7-inch gun, which is in France. In all, her wheel, seven out of eight guns, her bell, china, shells, small arms and other items have been brought to the surface.

One of her RN pattern 32s. click to big up. Eger image

A better view. Note the recovered mast collar.

A statue to the Admiral, erected in 1900, stands in downtown Mobile on Government Street, within a block or so of the Federal Building, gazing towards the Bay that holds the battleship USS Alabama (BB-60), who was a much luckier lady than Semmes’s own warship.

In the artifacts recovered from Alabama were at least one set of human remains to include a jawbone. An exam of the teeth at the Smithsonian Institution revealed the jaw’s owner was likely between 25-40 and in good health, other than an apparent habit of chomping on a pipe stem. A ceremonial burial was held for the crewmember’s remains in Mobile, where the lost sailor was interred at Magnolia Cemetery accompanied by members of the Sons of Confederate Veterans of the Admiral Semmes Camp, who maintain a reference to the lost ship and the Admiral.

Internment at Magnolia Cemetery, Mobile. Via AL.com

There is also a CSS Alabama Association and both the University of Alabama and Marshall University maintain special collections referencing the ship.

As for her adversary, 17 of Kearsarge ‘s crew received the Medal of Honor and the ship remained in hard service until wrecked on a reef off Roncador Cay on 2 February 1894 while her officers and crew made it safely ashore. A damaged section of her stern post, still with an intact 110-pound Blakely shell in it from Alabama, is on display at the Navy Museum in Washington.

CSS Alabama fired this shell from its 110-pound rifle early in the action against USS Kearsarge, landing a critical blow into Kearsarge’ s stern post. However, it didn’t explode due to a faulty fuse, allowing Kearsarge to continue the battle, eventually defeating Alabama. U.S. Navy photo by Mass Communication Specialist 1st Class Tim Comerford/Released

The only USN battleship not named for a state, USS Kearsarge (BB-5), was christened 24 March 1898 in her honor and went on to serve the Navy in one form or another for 57 years.

Currently, the Navy maintains both an Alabama (SSBN-731) and a Kearsarge (LHD-3) on the Naval List. In a twist of fate, the ‘Bama was built in the North (Electric Boat, Groton) and the Mighty Kay in the South (Ingalls, Pascagoula), but it’s not likely that they will ever get in a scrap moving forward.

We’re better than that these days.

Specs:

Displacement 1,050 t.
Length 220′
Beam 31′ 8″
Depth of Hold 17′ 8″
Draft 14′
Installed power: 2 × 300 HP horizontal steam engines, auxiliary sails, bark rig
Propulsion: Single screw propeller, retractable
Speed 13 kts
Complement 145
Armament
6 32-pdrs
1 110-pdr rifle
1 68-pdr

If you liked this column, please consider joining the International Naval Research Organization (INRO), Publishers of Warship International

They are possibly one of the best sources of naval study, images, and fellowship you can find
http://www.warship.org/

The International Naval Research Organization is a non-profit corporation dedicated to the encouragement of the study of naval vessels and their histories, principally in the era of iron and steel warships (about 1860 to date). Its purpose is to provide information and a means of contact for those interested in warships.

Nearing their 50th Anniversary, Warship International, the written tome of the INRO has published hundreds of articles, most of which are unique in their sweep and subject.

I’m a member, so should you be!

The Coast Guard Cutter Eagle sails into Norfolk, Va., as part of Norfolk Harborfest 2015. The Eagle is a 295-foot barque sailing vessel and the only operational commissioned sailing vessel in the U.S. military.

She came into this world as a Gorch Fock-class barque, the Segelschulschiff (SSS) Horst Wessel commissioned 17 September 1936 at Blohm and Voss.

She has been in continuous service as Eagle under a much prettier flag since 15 May 1946.

4256 × 2832

2832 × 4256

4256 × 2832

(All are U.S. Coast Guard photos by Petty Officer 3rd Class David Weydert)

Here at LSOZI, we are going to take off every Wednesday for a look at the old steam/diesel navies of the 1859-1946 time period and will profile a different ship each week. These ships have a life, a tale all of their own, which sometimes takes them to the strangest places. – Christopher Eger

Warship Wednesday June 10, 2015: The first Red Castle

Photo colorized by irootoko_jr http://blog.livedoor.jp/irootoko_jr/ Click image goes big up

Here we see the Maya-class gunboat Akagi of the Imperial Japanese Navy in 1902 at Kure. She was the first domestically built steel-hulled warship in Japan, but she would not be the last.

Opened to the West in the 1850s, the ships of the Shogunal and Domain naval forces rapidly evolved from wooden-hulled domestic sailing ships to screw-driven steamships (Kanrin Maru, 1857) to ironclads (French-built Kōtetsu ex-CSS Stonewall in 1869) to iron-hulled ships ordered overseas and built domestically. By 1875, the Japanese were sending iron steamships to intervene in the hidden kingdom of Korea and roam as far away as the French Atlantic ports.

In 1883, the Navy ordered a class of four iron-ribbed, iron-sheathed, two-master gunboats with a horizontal double expansion reciprocating steam engine with two cylindrical boilers driving two screws. The first of these, Maya, was laid down at the Onohama Shipyards (now Hitachi) at Kobe in 1885 while a sister, Chōkai, was laid down at the Ishikawajima-Hirano Shipyards in Tokyo the next year. Then followed an experiment, the bi-metal iron and steel composite hulled sistership Atago laid down at Yokosuka Naval Arsenal.

Sistership Atago gives a good port-side profile. Note the extensive awning use to keep the crew from dying of heatstroke

The class was rounded out with a fourth ship developed from lessons learned in the first three– the all-steel hulled Akagi— laid down at Onohama in 1886.

All four ships were named after well-known mountains in the Empire, with Akagi carrying the moniker of the famous Mount Akagi in Gunma Prefecture. The name translates to Red Castle and the 6,000-foot high summit has long been an object of worship in the area, with the cold north winds coming down the mountain termed Akagi-oroshi or Karakkaze.

While these were not impressive ships, just 600-650 tons and but 155-feet in length, you have to remember that Shogunal Japan was just opened to the West a scant quarter century before and here they are building their own steel warships to European standards locally.

Akagi, who always seems to be photographed from the starboard. Note the beefy ass Teutonic 8-incher on deck…now THATs a gunboat

Of course, they had some experts to help out though. These classy schooner-rigged gunboats were designed by the French, carried British locomotion suites, and mounted a good German Krupp-made 8-inch (210mm) gun, a 120mm Krupp rapid-fire and a pair of English Nordenfelt-made anti-torpedo boat batteries (the Russians had just sank a Turkish ship in 1877 using just such infernal small boats).

Commissioned 20 August 1890, Akagi soon saw service in Japan’s first modern war, sailing as the escort to flagship Saikyo Maru during the Sino-Japanese War of 1894. Captain Hachiro Sakamoto commanded her, from a long dynasty of samurai.

Checking out Akagi’s 210mm Krupp hood ornament. Click to big up

During the pivotal Battle of the Yalu River, Sakamoto swung Akagi between the lightly protected transport carrying Admiral Kabeyama Sukenori, and the Chinese fleet (led ironically enough by American adventurers).

She soon became locked in mortal combat with the larger German-built Chinese cruiser (2,900-tons, 270 feet, 9.4-inches of armor) Laiyeun. Although more than four times the size of the Japanese gunboat, and despite the fact that the Chinese guns killed both Sakamoto and severely injured his executive officer Lt. (later Admiral and head of the Naval War College which crafted Japanese Naval theory in the 1920s) Satō Tetsutarō, the Akagi kept fighting despite being holed 8 times with 210mm German shells (small world, right?).

Great Japanese Naval Victory off Haiyang Island” by Nakamura Shûkô. Akagi in gleaming white, Chinese sailors tumbling into the dark sea

Akagi gave as good as she got, hammering the Laiyeun extensively, leaving her to limp off and be sunk later in the war unrepaired. Her sisters Atago and Chōkai likewise shellacked the Chinese Admiral Ding Ruchang’s flagship, the 8,000-ton German-built battleship Dingyuan (3x305mm guns, whose shells were filled with sawdust rather than powder due to corruption).

Lieutenant Commander Sakamoto of the Imperial Warship Akagi Fights Bravely by Mizuno

This defense of the flag by the Akagi helped carry the day and a woodblock print of the action became famous in Japan, receiving widespread duplication.

Further, a martial song was created, “Sakamoto Major, bravely of Akagi” which endured throughout the Imperial Navy through World War II and was the battle song of the Pearl Harbor carrier of the same name.

The naval review that emperor sees booty ship of the Sino-Japanese War 1895. Photo colorized by irootoko_jr http://blog.livedoor.jp/irootoko_jr/

Akagi came home from her first war covered with glory and was repaired.

She was soon again in Chinese waters in 1899 as part of the Boxer Rebellion expeditionary force. In 1904, she was back in combat against the Russians, helping to bottle up the Tsar’s Pacific Squadron at Port Arthur and later invade Sakhalin island (which is still at least half-Japanese today).

It was during the Port Arthur blockade that her sister Atago came too close to an uncharted bar and grounded and sank 6 November 1904. Soon after the war, Akagi and her two remaining sisters were disarmed and laid up, obsolete.

1908

In 1911, Akagi was sold to Kawasaki Kisen Kaisha, repainted, and dubbed Akagi Maru, continued in service as a coastal steamer until 1921 when she was sold to Amagasaki, another steamship company that kept her in steady tramp work until World War II.

Able to float in just 9 feet of water, Akagi Maru was used extensively during that conflict to run close to the coast and away from American submarines, becoming one of the few ships still afloat in 1945– although she did settle on the bottom during the great Halsey Typhoon that year. Raised, she remained in commercial service until 1953 when she was laid up for a final time.

She was scrapped in 1963, her good steel being recycled.

Specs:

Displacement: 614 long tons (624 t)
Length: 47.0 m (154.2 ft.)
Beam: 8.2 m (26 ft. 11 in)
Draught: 2.95 m (9 ft. 8 in)
Installed power: 950 ihp (710 kW)
Propulsion: 2 × horizontally mounted reciprocating steam engine
2 boilers, 2 × screws
Sail plan: Schooner-rigged
Speed: 10.25 kn (18.98 km/h; 11.80 mph)
Capacity: 60 t (66 short tons) coal
Complement: 104
Armament: 1x 210 mm (8 in) Krupp L/22 breech-loading gun
1x Krupp 120 mm (4.7 in) L/22 breech-loading gun
2x quadruple 1-inch Nordenfelt guns

If you liked this column, please consider joining the International Naval Research Organization (INRO), Publishers of Warship International

They are possibly one of the best sources of naval study, images, and fellowship you can find http://www.warship.org/

The International Naval Research Organization is a non-profit corporation dedicated to the encouragement of the study of naval vessels and their histories, principally in the era of iron and steel warships (about 1860 to date). Its purpose is to provide information and a means of contact for those interested in warships.

Nearing their 50th Anniversary, Warship International, the written tome of the INRO has published hundreds of articles, most of which are unique in their sweep and subject.

I’m a member, so should you be!

We’ve covered the Nelson-class battleship HMS Rodney (pennant number 29) in past Warship Wednesdays, and she is a remarkable design. Well armed and armored but slow (just 23 knots) as a result of compromises put into effect after the 1922 Washington Naval Treaties.

Well, as an update, here are a series of images from the Imperial War Museum taken by Lt. R.G.G. Coote, Royal Navy while in Scotland in the fall of 1940. Enjoy, and as always, click to big up

Her impressive 16 inchers

Sailors aboard HMS Rodney receiving a 16-inch shell from an ammunition ship, 1940

Sailor at his hammock aboard HMS Rodney, 1940. Looks comfy, yes?

Sailors conducting bayonet drill aboard HMS Rodney, circa 1940. Dig the SMLEs

Sailors conducting bayonet drill aboard HMS Rodney, circa 1940

View of the forward section of HMS Rodney, 1940

QF 2-pdr Mk VIII anti-aircraft gun mount and crew aboard HMS Rodney, Sep 1940

Sailors cleaning one of the 16-inch guns aboard HMS Rodney, Sep 1940

View of the torpedo room aboard HMS Rodney, Sep 1940

View of the sick bay aboard HMS Rodney, Oct 1940

HMS Rodney on the Firth of Forth at sunset,

Here at LSOZI, we are going to take off every Wednesday for a look at the old steam/diesel navies of the 1859-1946 time period and will profile a different ship each week. These ships have a life, a tale all of their own, which sometimes takes them to the strangest places. – Christopher Eger

Warship Wednesday June 17, 2015: Big Paul

USS Saint Paul off Yokosuka, Japan, 21 May 1966. Click to big up

Here we see the Baltimore-class cruiser, USS Saint Paul (CA-73) coming at you bow-on. She was a hard charger who never stopped in 26 years at sea.

When the early shitstorm of 1939 World War II broke out, the U.S. Navy, realized that in the likely coming involvement with Germany in said war– and that country’s huge new 18,000-ton, 8x8inch gunned, 4.1-inches of armor Hipper-class super cruisers– it was outclassed in the big assed heavy cruiser department.

When you add to the fire the fact that the Japanese had left all of the Washington and London Naval treaties behind and were building giant Mogami-class vessels (15,000-tons, 8x8inch guns, 3.9-inches of armor), the writing was on the wall.

That’s where the Baltimore-class came in.

These 24 envisioned ships of the class looked like an Iowa-class battleship in miniature with three triple turrets, twin stacks, a high central bridge, and two masts– and they were (almost) as powerful. Sheathed in a hefty 6 inches of armor belt (and 3-inches of deck armor), they could take a beating if they had to. They were fast, capable of over 30-knots, which meant they could keep pace with the fast new battlewagons they looked so much like as well as the new fleet carriers that were on the drawing board as well.

While they were more heavily armored than Hipper and Mogami, they also had an extra 8-inch tube, mounting 9 8 inch/55 caliber guns whereas the German and Japanese only had eight. A larger suite of AAA guns that included a dozen 5 inch /38 caliber guns in twin mounts and 70+ 40mm and 20mm guns rounded this out.

In short, these ships were deadly to incoming aircraft, could close to the shore as long as there was at least 27-feet of seawater for them to float in and hammer coastal beaches and emplacements for amphibious landings, and take out any enemy surface combatant short of a modern battleship in a one-on-one fight.

Class leader Baltimore was laid down 26 May 1941, just six months before Pearl Harbor and was commissioned 15 April 1943.

Saint Paul, the 6th ship of the class, was laid down at Bethlehem Steel Company at Quincy, Mass on 3 February 1943.

USS Saint Paul (CA-73), a Baltimore-class cruiser note vertrep markings. She swapped her seaplanes for choppers in 1949

As such, Paul, just the 2nd U.S. Naval ship named for the Minnesota city, was completed late in the war, only being commissioned 17 February 1945.

Whereas the original ships of the class mounted Mk 12 8-inch guns, Saint Paul was completed with the more advanced Mk 15 guns in three 300-ton triple turrets. These long barreled 203mm guns could fire a new, “super-heavy” 335-pound shell out to 30,000 yards and penetrate 10-inches of armor at close ranges. It should be noted that the older cruisers used a 260-pound AP shell.

USS Saint Paul bombarding communist positions off Vietnam, Oct 1966

After shakedown, she was off the coast of Japan in July, getting in the last salvos fired by a major warship on a land target in the war when she plastered the steel works in Kamaishi from just offshore, putting those big new 8-inchers to good use.

Watercolor “U.S.S. ST. PAUL – Let Go Port Anchor” by Arthur Beaumont, 1946

Then at the end of the war, a funny thing happened: the five almost new Baltimores that came before Saint Paul were decommissioned and laid up in reserve, whereas CA-73 remained on post. Further, many of the follow-on ships that were to come after her were never ordered, and some of these never completed. In all just 14 Baltimore-class cruisers were built, with Saint Paul arguably seeing the most continuous service.

In Korea, Saint Paul saw hard use and made her 8-inchers a regular hitter, completing her first naval gun fire support on Nov. 19, 1950. It would be far from her last.

USS Saint Paul bombarding communist positions near Wonsan, Kangwon Province, Korea, 20 Apr 1951

USS Saint Paul bombarding communist positions near Hungnam, South Hamgyong Province, Korea, 26 Jul 1953

HO3S-1 helicopter landing on USS Saint Paul off Wonsan, Kangwon Province, Korea, 17 Apr 1951. Her guns look sad…but are probably just depressed for cleaning as they had lots of chances to get dirty at the time.

Heavy cruiser USS Saint Paul (CA-73) lights up the night while firing her 8 inch guns off the coast of Hungnam, North Korea 1950

Hungnam, Songjin, Inchon, Wonsan, Chongjin, Kosong, et. al. She racked up a steady total of hits on shore targets and picked up some Chinese lead in exchange from shore batteries. In all, Saint Paul earned eight Battle stars for her Korean War service, the hard way.

Much like she fired the last shots into Japan, she also completed the last naval gun mission into Korea, at a Chinese emplacement at on 27 July 1953 at 2159– one minute before the truce took effect.

USS SAINT PAUL (CA-73) near Wonsan, Korea just before signing of truce at Panmunjon. A 5″ shell is fired from ship against the Communist shore batteries. This round is believed to have been the last fired on enemy positions by UN Naval units before the armistice.
NARA FILE #: 80-G-625878

Still, as after WWII, while most of her sisters took up space on red lead row, she remained in service. Tragically, in 1962, 30 of her crewmen were killed in a turret explosion in peacetime drills.

After about 1963, when the Iowas were laid up, her guns and those of the few cruisers still left on active duty were the largest ones available to the fleet. This led to her spending most of her service as either a squadron or fleet flag.

This gave her a chance in 1964 to fill in as the battered cruiser “Old Swayback” in the iconic Otto Preminger/John Wayne film In Harm’s Way

The Duke on St.Paul aka Old Swayback

By 1966, she earned a regular spot on the gun line off Vietnam, where she spent most of the next four years, earning another 9 Battlestars for an impressive total of 18 (1 WWII, 8 Korea, 9 RVN).

USS Saint Paul bombarding the Cong Phy railroad yard 25 miles south of Thanu Hoa, Vietnam, 4 Aug 1967; note splashes from coastal gun batteries

Big up. More Vietnam work

St. Paul in Da Nang

USS Saint Paul (CA-73) approaching USS Boston (CAG-1) off the coast of Vietnam, September 1968. Courtesy of John Jazdzewski.

In the late 60s, as part of Project Gunfighter at Indian Head Naval Ordnance Station, Saint Paul picked up an experimental shell to use in her 8-inchers, a saboted 104mm Long Range Bombardment Ammunition (LRBA) round that had an estimated range of 72,000 yards.

In 1970, Big Paul, using LRBA, made some of the longest gunfire missions in history when she fired on Viet Cong targets some 35 miles away, destroying six structures. At the time, she was the last big-gun heavy cruiser in the United States Navy.

Video of her firing after the intro…

Then, on 30 April 1971, for the first time since 1945, Saint Paul was taken out of commission after three Pacific wars. Only sisterships Chicago and Columbus, who had long before traded in their 8-inchers for Tartar and Talos missiles, lasted longer.

In the end, Saint Paul was stricken from the Naval List on 31 July 1978, and scrapped in 1980.

She was remembered in the USS Minneapolis-Saint Paul (SSN-708), the twenty-first Los Angeles-class submarine, in commission from 1984 to 2008.

The USS Saint Paul Association keeps her memory alive.

Her 1,000-pound brass bell is located in St. Paul’s city hall, where the city seems to take good care of it.

Specs:

Displacement: 14,500 long tons (14,733 t) standard
17,000 long tons (17,273 t) full load
Length: 673 ft. 5 in (205.26 m)
Beam: 70 ft. 10 in (21.59 m)
Height: 112 ft. 10 in (34.39 m) (mast)
Draft: 26 ft. 10 in (8.18 m)
Propulsion: Geared steam turbines with four screws
Speed: 33 knots (61 km/h; 38 mph)
Complement: 61 officers and 1,085 sailors
Armament: 9 × 8 inch/55 caliber guns (3 × 3)
12 × 5 inch/38 caliber guns (6 × 2)
48 × 40 mm Bofors guns
24 × 20 mm Oerlikon cannons
Armor: Belt Armor: 6 in (150 mm)
Deck: 3 in (76 mm)
Turrets: 3–6 inches (76–152 mm)
Conning Tower: 8 in (200 mm)
If you liked this column, please consider joining the International Naval Research Organization (INRO), Publishers of Warship International

They are possibly one of the best sources of naval study, images, and fellowship you can find http://www.warship.org/

The International Naval Research Organization is a non-profit corporation dedicated to the encouragement of the study of naval vessels and their histories, principally in the era of iron and steel warships (about 1860 to date). Its purpose is to provide information and a means of contact for those interested in warships.

Nearing their 50th Anniversary, Warship International, the written tome of the INRO has published hundreds of articles, most of which are unique in their sweep and subject.

I’m a member, so should you be!

US Marine Corps Vought O2U-2 Corsair aircraft preparing to land on Saratoga, circa 1930
Source United States Navy Naval History and Heritage Command
Identification Code NH 94899

The USS Saratoga (CV-3) was a beautiful ship converted from a battlecruiser that was never allowed to be built. She and her sistership, Lexington, were largely responsible for training the pre-WWII U.S. Navy in how to use a fleet carrier. As a result, she had a few interesting people cycle through her decks.

Here are a couple

Charles Lindbergh in the cockpit of a F3B-1 carrier aircraft aboard USS Saratoga, 8 Feb 1929

Ever heard of the Thatch Weave? Lt. John Thach’s Wildcat taking off from Saratoga, Oct 1941 Source United States National Archives Identification Code 80-PR-1154

And here’s a bonus shot of her all dolled up for the war.

Saratoga underway at sea, circa 1942, with 5 Grumman F4F fighters, 6 Douglas SBD scout bombers, and 1 Grumman TBF torpedo bomber

SOC Seagull aircraft just launched from USS Augusta’s catapult, Casco Bay, Maine, United States, Jun 1942. Note the two bombs carried underwing.

In 1933, with aircraft carriers few and far between, helicopters nonexistent and radar in its infancy, if a surface ship wanted to see over the horizon this meant a seaplane. And the go-to for the U.S. Navy at the time was the Curtiss SOC (scout/observation SO aircraft produced by Curtis-Wright C) Seagull.

This overgrown bumblebee could putter around at about 130 mph and stay aloft for about four hours or so. If needed, the big Pratt & Whitney R-1340 single-row 600 hp engine could be leaned down to give a one-way range of almost 900 miles to deliver mail and dispatches ashore or to other ships far over the horizon.

Armament? Yeah, about that– just one Browning M2 AN machine gun forward and another aft, each with 500 rounds ready. Don’t confuse these guns with the M2 .50 cal, as they were a .30.06-cal air-cooled gun which had a much higher rate of fire (1100 rpm) but much smaller bullet that had about half the range. Besides this, the little scout could carry about 500 pounds of bombs or depth charges.

Some 315 Gulls were made in four marks by 1938 for the sea services and were used both from seaplane tenders, shore stations and cruisers/battleships.

SOC-3A Seagull floatplane of US Navy Scouting Squadron 201 (VS-201) parked on the deck of escort carrier USS Long Island, 16 Dec 1941. Note the float has been replaced by landing gear and a 325 pound aircraft Mk 17 depth charge is fitted center line.

Long Island #2

It was the latter that the Gull excelled, as since they could be “knocked down” to as small as 12-feet wide, a large cruiser or battlewagon could carry 8 of these seaplanes if needed (4 on the deck/catapults, 4 in the stowage).

SOC-3 Seagull aircraft stripped for maintenance in the hangar of light cruiser USS Savannah, 1938; note the close up of the Pratt and Whitney R-1340 9-cylinder radial engine and caster tracks to roll the planes out of the hangar on its truck and on deck for launch NH 85630

Liberty party from battleship California prepared to go ashore, 1940; note at least three SOC-3 floatplanes on cats

USS Nevada at anchor at Lahaina Roads, Territory of Hawaii, pre-war. Note 3 SOC Seagulls

While the battleships soon had their Gulls replaced by monoplane Kingfishers, the simple Curtiss biplanes remained in service on cruisers as late as 1944 where they were used to scout, rescue downed pilots and lost seamen and adjust naval gunfire.

SOC-3 scout-observation floatplanes off cruiser USS Honolulu flying in formation, circa 1938-1939, note the prewar scheme. United States Navy Naval History and Heritage Command photo NH 82466

USS Memphis’ Curtiss SOC Seagull scout-observation aircraft hooked onto the recovery mat, in preparation for being hoisted on board, circa early 1942

SOC-3 Seagull aircraft from cruiser USS Portland flying in a formation of four, circa 1944, note the wartime scheme United States Navy Naval History and Heritage Command photo NH 81995

US Navy Aviation Machinist’s Mate polishing the 9-foot propeller of a SOC Seagull floatplane at Naval Air Station, Pensacola, Florida, United States, circa 1940-41. Photographer Dayton A. Seiler, United States National Archives 80-G-K-13541

Retired in 1946, the Seagull was perhaps the last biplane in front line regular U.S. military service.

Here at LSOZI, we are going to take off every Wednesday for a look at the old steam/diesel navies of the 1859-1946 time period and will profile a different ship each week. These ships have a life, a tale all of their own, which sometimes takes them to the strangest places. – Christopher Eger

Warship Wednesday June 24, 2015: The Cursed Lion from Brazil

Photo colorized by irootoko_jr http://blog.livedoor.jp/irootoko_jr/   Note the huge Brazilian ensign

Here we see the ironclad warship Aquidabã (also spelled Aquidaban) of the Marinha do Brasil as she looked in 1893 while on a visit to the U.S.. The largest country in Latin America, Brazil had by the 1870s the strongest Navy south of the Equator (and the fifth most powerful in the world), and our subject was its pride and joy for some two decades.

Built by Samuda Brothers at Cubitt Town on the Isle of Dogs in London, the firm had much experience with crafting ships for foreign navies. They had built the Mahroussa for Egypt, Prussia’s SMS Kornpirnz, Japan’s Fuso, Argentina’s ARA Almirante Brown, and the Independcia for Peru. It was no surprise that, buoyed by wins in the Platine & Paraguayan wars (1849–70) and looking to expand the Empire, the Brazilian Navy went to Samuda for the 5,550-ton ironclad Riachuelo ( 4 × 9.2″ guns) in 1881 and her slightly smaller one-off half-sister Aquidabã in 1883.

Some 280 feet long, this early battleship tipped the scales at 4,950 tons on a full load and could make nearly 16-knots when all of her eight cylindrical boilers lit. Armed with the same main battery as Riachuelo, she carried a pair of Whitworth 9.2-inch guns in two turrets set off the center line, en echelon, with the forward turret offset to port and the aft turret to starboard. A battery of smaller 5.5-inch breech-loaders, Nordenfelt 1-pounders, and impressive five 18-inch Whitehead torpedo tubes rounded her out.

She was sheathed in up to 11-inches of good English compound armor.

Aquidabã at Hampton Roads 1893 Click to big up

Named after the Aquidabã River system in the country (and scene of the last battle of the War of Paraguay), she was called the aço Lion (Steel Lion) as she replaced older wooden ships in the line.

Arriving in Brazil on 29 January 1886 to much fanfare, she was placed into commission. By 1890, the Navy had become comfortable enough with their showboat to take the Lion to the high seas, embarking on an 11,000-mile cruise around the Americans, stopping at the U.S. and elsewhere.

Then came a rebellion.

In November 1891, Aquidabã played a decisive role in response to the attempted coup against Deodoro da Fonseca. She fired a 9.2-inch shell at the Police Station of São Bento, damaging the steeple of the Church of Nossa Senhora da Lapa Merchant in the center of Rio de Janeiro in the process– shooting off the cross.

The fuze didn’t go off and the shell is still on display there, but many of the more religious members of her crew felt her cursed after that. For good reason it turned out…

Click to big up

She returned to the states in April 1893, taking part in the Colombian Exhibition in Hampton Roads along with the  international fleet– where several of the larger images were taken in this post.

LOC picture 4615×2625 of Aquidaba that is colorized above. Click to very much big up

Then, upon return to Brazil, she was promptly caught up in another rebellion, this time on the side of the rebels. This naval rebellion, the Revolta da Armada, occurred when the former Minister of Marine took the ship as his flag and led a yearlong campaign that involved the mutinous ships exchanging gunfire on a near-daily basis with coastal defense batteries ashore.

By the end of it, Aquidabã‘s machinery was in such a poor state of repair due to lack of access to port facilities and spares that she could only limp along at 4-knots, had almost no shells left, and was burning the crummiest grade of coal that could be imagined. Her armament was beefed up by a number of 3-pounder Garnder and Hotchkiss field pieces shipped aboard, but they were more pop-guns than anything.

If our Lion was Goliath, then the torpedo boat Gustavo Sampaio, above, was her David

Then, on 16 April 1894, the government-controlled torpedo boat Gustavo Sampaio managed to pump a fish into the bow of the once-proud Aquidabã and, her front compartments open to the sea, she settled in the mud as her crew fled after thoroughly wrecking her.

Aquidabã in drydock at Cobras Island note torpedo hole

She was refloated, renamed Vinte e Quatro de Maio (you can’t have the name of a mutinous ship on the naval list to inspire others), and sent to the Vulcan yard at Stettin Germany for repair then Elswik in New Castle, on the River Tyne in England, for modernization.

There she picked up 15 Nordenfelt machineguns (as defense against torpedo boats!) two large fighting towers to replace her auxiliary sail rig, new engines, and a new topside structure.

Now that’s a different look. Click to big up

All was forgiven by 1896 and she was back to her original name and representing Brazil at the Chicago International Expedition in the U.S. where President Grover Cleveland reviewed her. Then followed uneventful peacetime service that ended for the mighty Lion a decade later.

At 22: 45hs on 21 January 1906, while at anchor four miles southeast of Angra do Reis at Jacuacanga Cove, Aquidabã suffered a magazine explosion similar to that of many of the predreadnought steel ships of the era.

She was utter wrecked in an explosion that was described as a disintegration by many who witnessed it and sank quickly in 60 feet of water with only 96 survivors from a crew of over 400 that was fleshed out by some 81 visiting midshipmen– the flower of the Brazilian officer corps which included at least one son of the sitting Naval Minister. Those lost included Rear Admiral Rodrigo José da Rocha and Rear Admiral John Candido Brazil.

News of the loss was carried far and wide, even if it was only a footnote among the other news of the day.

A memorial was erected to her in 1913.

Specs:

Displacement: 4950 tons
Length: 280.2 ft. (85.4 m)
Beam: 52.03 ft. (15.86 m)
Draft: 18.04 ft.
Propulsion: Mixed; sailing with three bark-rigged masts, 8 cylindrical coal boilers linked to three steam engines generating 4,500 hp on two props.
Speed: 15.6 knots
Range; 6000 miles at 10 knots.
Crew: 303
Armament:
Four × 9.2 in (230 mm) guns (2 × 2)
Four × 5.5 in (140 mm) 70-pounder guns (4 × 1)
13 × 1 pounder guns (13 × 1) (removed 1895)
15 Nordenfelt machineguns fitted 1895
Five × 18-inch torpedo tubes (through “portholes”)
Armor: 178 to 280 mm on the sides of the hull; 254 mm in the main turret and 254 mm in the superstructure.

If you liked this column, please consider joining the International Naval Research Organization (INRO), Publishers of Warship International

They are possibly one of the best sources of naval study, images, and fellowship you can find http://www.warship.org/

The International Naval Research Organization is a non-profit corporation dedicated to the encouragement of the study of naval vessels and their histories, principally in the era of iron and steel warships (about 1860 to date). Its purpose is to provide information and a means of contact for those interested in warships.

Nearing their 50th Anniversary, Warship International, the written tome of the INRO has published hundreds of articles, most of which are unique in their sweep and subject.

I’m a member, so should you be!

A young sailor is given a large hook and binoculars, fitted with a harness and safety line and stationed on the weather decks to seek out that oh so important piece of nautical equipment– the mail buoy.

Recruit of Indianapolis on ‘mail buoy watch’, 10 Mar 1943

Without it, entire generations of bluejackets would miss out on the joke.

Or worse, be sent looking for a bucket of prop-wash.

Here at LSOZI, we are going to take off every Wednesday for a look at the old steam/diesel navies of the 1859-1946 time period and will profile a different ship each week. These ships have a life, a tale all of their own, which sometimes takes them to the strangest places. – Christopher Eger

Warship Wednesday June 24, 2015: The hard times of a peacetime tin can

Via USS Ruchamkin.org

Here we see the Crosley-class high speed transport USS Ruchamkin (DE-228/APD-89/LPR-89), at sea sometime after 1963. The type of taskings for the Ruchamkin from 1945-69 were the same laundry list of fleet services that are forced on today’s LCS type vessels.

Originally laid down as one of the 252 planned Rudderow-class destroyer escorts, her original mission was to bust subs, kill torpedo and patrol boats, capture random enemy merchant ships threaten enemy destroyers and cruisers with her own steel fish and show the flag as required. Just under 1,800-tons and 306-feet long, these hardy ships would be classified as sloops or corvettes in other navies, but the term destroyer escort seemed a better fit for the USN and their pair of 5 inch /38 dual purpose mounts, 4 x 40 mm Bofors, 10 x 20 mm single mount Oerlikons, torpedo tubes and depth charges allowed them to punch out of thier weight class.

However the war outstripped these ships, with the first, USS Riley (DE-579) only commissioning in March 1944, just 22 of these tin cans were completed as DEs.

Another 50 were completed to a modified design and purpose– that of the high speed transport (APD). You see with the Pacific island hopping campaign in high speed in 1944, the Navy realized these DEs could float in just 11 feet of seawater, which meant they could get pretty close into old Hirohito’s backyard. To maximize their usefulness, these ships were redesigned from the stack back with the aft 5-incher and torpedo tubes never fitted and davits for a quartet of LCPRs (landing craft, personnel, ramped).

She carried four of these craft, which could land her embarked company all in one wave

These 35-foot long V-Bottomed plywood craft could tote 39 troops ashore from as far as 50 miles out to sea; however they usually were launched as close as possible as these craft wallowed along at about 10-knots when wide open.

This allowed the 306-foot ship to carry (briefly) a company-sized (160~) unit of Army infantry or Marines and land them right on top of the beach.

The Rudderow type DE compared to the eventual Crosby type APD, note the differences aft of the stack

The subject of our study, USS Ruchamkin, named after 24-year-old LT (JG) Seymour D. Ruchamkin, late of the destroyer USS Cushing (DD-376) and gave his last full measure on that ship off Savo Island, was laid down at Philadelphia Naval Yard 14 February 1944 as a DE. She was completed to the APD type and commissioned 16 September 1945, two weeks too late to serve in WWII.

USS Ruchamkin (APD-89) at anchor off Cannes, France, in 1952 during the Cannes Film Festival. Don Karr USS Ruchamkin

Instead, she spent the next 24 years in and out of commission (joining red lead row three different times) spending about 15 winters with the active fleet.

Pierside in Charlotte Amalie, St. Thomas, Virgin Islands. 1960s

In that time she trained midshipmen and naval reservists, was used as an amphibious warfare ship for the first generation of SEALs, roamed the Med, Pacific, and the Caribbean, waved the flag, and generally saw peaceful service.

View underway at sea off her stern,

USS Ruchamkin (APD-89) coming along side USS Rigel (AF-58) to receive stores, during Operation Steel Pike I, October 1964. Photo by Jim McCoy navsource

One of her LCPRs Pierside in Charlotte Amalie, St. Thomas, Virgin Islands.

However even peace can be hazardous.

On 14 November 1952, while on an exercise with troops embarked, the 10,000 ton tanker Washington smacked her portside amidships, nearly slicing the boat in two. As a testament to the design of these warbabies, she held up and remained afloat (thought losing seven men) and was back in service just four months later after repairs.

USS RUCHAMKIN APD 8915 November 1952, one day after USS Ruchamkin (APD-89) had been rammed by SS Washington, a 10,000 ton tanker. Note her damage amidships

Her closest brush with war, besides tracking the occasional Soviet submarine, was when she earned the Navy Unit Commendation for evacuating civilians from the Dominican Republic in 1965, a task that her 160 spartan troop bunks and ability to operate from shallow water ports made her ideal.

She then served as a support ship for Polaris missile tests and the exploration of the wreck of the USS Scorpion before her third and final decommissioning at Little Creek on 24 November 1969.

She was sold to the Navy of the Republic of Colombia for $156,820 who used her as the ARC Córdoba (DT-15) until 1980, primarily as an escort vessel.

She sits in about three feet of still water sandwiched between a recreation of the Taj Mahal and a mountainside

The Colombians disarmed her and donated her to Jaime Duque Grisales, an icon of Colombian air travel. Her new owners dismantled her, transported the old girl to “Colombia’s Disneyland” Parque Jaime Duque and reassembled her on site by 1983. There she sits today in a shallow pond some 620 miles inland and at an elevation of 8000 feet just outside of Bogata, a feat not often accomplished by naval vessels.

But her stern till holds her secret

A very active veterans association, USS Ruchamkin.org exists to continue her memory here in the states.

via USS Ruchamkin.org

Painting by Don Renz via USS Ruchamkin.org

Specs

From Destroyer Escorts In Action (Osprey)

Displacement: 1,740 tons (1,770 metric tons) (fully loaded)
Length: 306 ft. (93.3 m) (overall)
Beam: 36 ft. 6 in (11.1 m)
Draft: 11 ft. (3.4 m) (fully loaded)
Propulsion: General Electric steam turbo-electric drive engine
Two 3-bladed propellers solid manganese-bronze 8 ft. 5 in (2.6 m) diameter
Speed: 24 knots (most ships could attain 26/27 knots)
Range: 5,500 nautical miles at 15 knots (10,200 km at 28 km/h)
Radar: Type SL surface search fixed to mast above yardarm and type SA air search only fitted to certain ships.
Sonar: Type 128D or Type 144 both in retractable dome.
Direction Finding: MF direction finding antenna fitted in front of the bridge and HF/DF Type FH 4 antenna fitted on top of mast.

Armament: (As designed DE)
Main guns: 2 x 5 inch /38 dual purpose mount
Anti-aircraft guns: 4 x 40 mm Bofors were fitted in the twin mounts in the ‘B’ and ‘X’ position. 10 x 20 mm single mount Oerlikons cannon positioned four next to the bridge behind ‘B’ gun mount, two on each side of the ship in sponsons just abaft the funnel, and two on the fantail just forward of the depth charge racks.
Torpedo tubes: three 21-inch (533 mm) torpedo tubes in a triple mount were mounted just aft of the stack.
Hedgehog: British-designed ahead-throwing anti-submarine mortar which fired 24 bombs ahead of the ship, this was situated on the main deck just aft of ‘A’ gun mount.
Depth charges: Approximately 200 were carried. Two sets of double rails each side of the ship at the stern, each set held 24 charges; eight K gun depth charge throwers each holding 5 charges, were situated each side of the ship just forward of the stern rails.

As completed (APD)
Complement: 12 Officers, 192 Enlisted.
Armament: 1 × 5″/38 caliber gun
6 × 40mm Bofors AA (3 × 2), removed 1963 in FRAM update
6 × 20mm Oerlikon AA (6 × 1), removed 1963 in FRAM update. Replaced by M2s.

If you liked this column, please consider joining the International Naval Research Organization (INRO), Publishers of Warship International

They are possibly one of the best sources of naval study, images, and fellowship you can find http://www.warship.org/

The International Naval Research Organization is a non-profit corporation dedicated to the encouragement of the study of naval vessels and their histories, principally in the era of iron and steel warships (about 1860 to date). Its purpose is to provide information and a means of contact for those interested in warships.

Nearing their 50th Anniversary, Warship International, the written tome of the INRO has published hundreds of articles, most of which are unique in their sweep and subject.

I’m a member, so should you be!

Here at LSOZI, we are going to take off every Wednesday for a look at the old steam/diesel navies of the 1859-1946 time period and will profile a different ship each week. These ships have a life, a tale all of their own, which sometimes takes them to the strangest places. – Christopher Eger

Warship Wednesday July 8, 2015 Colombia’s Grande Dame, with a bit of British influence

Here we see the Colombian river gunboat (cañonero fluvial) ARC Cartagena (C-31, later C-134), lead ship of her class of shallow draft warships somewhere in the chocolate milk waters of the Amazon.

Colombia in 1928 had no navy to speak of and was in trouble.

While it had a naval tradition and twice before had built officer training schools, by 1909 the schools had been shuttered and the only vessels flying the Colombian flag were merchant ships. However, the country had a vast interior, controlled by rivers (the massive Magdalena, Amazon and Putumayo systems), and was threatened along its borders by a much stronger regional power, Peru.

With that in mind, the Colombian government negotiated for a trio of new built gunboats in the UK for use both along the coastline for defense, but on the river system against interlopers pushing the limits of their borders. Ordered in 1929 for a combined cost of £ 200,000 at Yarrow in Glasgow were the threesome named Cartagena, Barranquilla, and Santa Marta.

These 138-foot gunboats, displacing just 150-tons, were beamy at nearly 24 feet, giving them a length-to-beam ratio of nearly 1:5. This translated to a draft of just four feet (48 inches) when fully loaded. If only carrying a light load of diesel oil in her bunkers, they could navigate in just two feet of calm water.

Armed with an Armstrong 12-pdr [3″/40 (7.62 cm)] 12cwt quick firing gun forward and a quartet of Vickers water-cooled machine guns, their 34 member crew could man all of the mounts and still be able to send a small (squad sized) landing party ashore or to board suspect ships.

To help train the first generation of modern Colombian naval personnel, the Latin American government picked up a number of hardy British and French mariners (it was the Great Depression after all, and experienced sailors were available by the boatload) led by one Captain Ralph Douglas Binney CBE, RN.

Binney

Binney was a remarkably English chap. Born in 1888 in Cookham, Berkshire, by 1907 he had earned his commission as a lieutenant in the King’s Navy  and served during the Great War on the pre-dreadnought HMS Britannia then spent the 20s on more modern battlewagons to include HMS Collingwood and HMS Royal Sovereign before ending his time at sea with the RN as skipper of the monitor HMS Marshal Soult in 1931. Moving to the reserve list, the Colombians picked up Binney as an adviser soon after.

With his help and the cadre of European instructors, the Colombians opened the Escuela de Grumetes (Navy Sailors School) and the Escuela de Cadetes (Navy Officers School), which still exist today.

By the end of 1931, all three gunboats were complete and British contract crews crossed the Atlantic in an epic 24-day voyage (their Gardner diesels could only make 15 knots wide open and, as they ran at half that to sip fuel, it took a little time).

In 1933, primed with their new boats, the infant Colombian Navy (with the ships fleshed out by British and French sailors and dubbed La Flotilla Fluvial, The River Flotilla) made a sortie into the river systems to wave the flag and let the Peruvians know what’s up.

Note the basic rangefinder atop the superstructure for her 12-pounder.

Finding out that the Peruvian Army had sent about 1,000 men to the disputed river ports of Leticia and Tarapacá in the Amazon, the Colombians picked the latter to make their point. There, Barranquilla, leading four transports, landed a 700-man Colombian battalion and bombarded the Peruvian positions on Valentine’s Day, scattering the invaders without casualty– despite being and strafed by Peruvian Air Force Vought O2U Corsairs operating from sandbar landing strips.

Win one for the gunboats!

Then, in the March 26-28 action (remembered as the Battle of Güepí) Cartagena, serving as flag, and Santa Marta took on a battalion-sized group of Peruvians on the Putumayo River at Guepi and Port Arthur. Landing Colombian infantry within a stone’s throw of the enemy positions and covering their advance Boom Beach-style, the twin cañoneros lit up the night and fired until they had largely exhausted their ammunition, again shrugging off a raid from the Peruvian air force– this time from Curtiss F-11 Goshawk floatplanes.

Peruvian F-11s. These planes were armed with a pair of .30 light machine guns and could carry two small bombs.  In a twist of fate the Colombians utilized the talents of private German pilots to airlift troops and supplies to the isolated region, landing Fokker trimotors in remote jungle strips.

At the end of the day, the crews of the gunboats nailed the Colombian tricolor on top of Peruvian fortifications.

Win two for the gunboats.

On April 16 the Peruvians struck back, mounting a Krupp 1894 75mm field piece on a river steamer San Miguel and, packing it full of soldiers, ran down the Putumayo and took a Colombian position under fierce attack.

Cartagena raced to the scene and, in an exchange of naval gunfire along the riverbanks at night, forced the San Miguel to beat feet– although Cartagena took a 75mm shell through part of her stack without casualties.

A larger sortie supported by aircraft was repulsed two weeks later with the help of Santa Marta.

Win three (and four) for los canoneros!

Following these actions, the Peruvians went to the bargaining table and the so-called Colombia–Peru War was ended by May through the kind services of the League of Nations. All told, both sides suffered less than 200 casualties in the entire conflict, but the three gunboats were without a doubt the MVPs.

Peace led to the Colombians adding destroyers to their naval list and further increasing their fleet. In addition, after tasting the near misses from airplane dropped bombs (some of the 117-pounders dropped from the Goshawks were lobbed from 5,000 feet), the gunboats each picked up a single high-angle 20 mm Oerlikon Mk 4 AAA piece.

With the drums of a Second World War beating in the distance, an American naval mission arrived in Colombia in January 1939 with the aim of incorporating the Colombian forces in the defense of the nearby Panama Canal. Although the country did not declare war on Germany until November 26, 1943, the gunboats nonetheless stood watch along the coast for U-boats long before that date.

As for Binney, when the balloon went up in Europe in 1939, he resigned his desk in the Colombian Naval Ministry and picked up where he left off in British service, holding down staff positions in Alexandria and London. Sadly, on Friday, 8 December 1944, on a crowded Birchin Lane in the City of London, Binney saw a couple of rough chaps pull off a smash-and-grab raid on a jewelry shop. He alone stepped forward in an attempt to stop the pair as they escaped in a car and was callously run down by the fleeing criminals. His friends and colleagues established a fund to ensure that his selfless act of heroism would not be forgotten – and that other such acts would be appropriately recognized. Today this fund still exists as the Police Public Bravery Award– commonly referred to as The Binney.

Now back to Latin America.

The river gunboats remained in service for another generation, with Santa Marta retiring in 1962, her parts used to keep her two sisters running. Speaking of running, in the mid-1960s both Cartagena and Barranquilla were re-engined and their 12-pdr, Oerlikon and Vickers swapped out for a (slightly) more modern Bofors 40mm/60 cal Mk I and a half-dozen air-cooled M1919’s.

Cartagena and Barranquilla put in time for their country in a third war, the epic low-intensity guerrilla war between the government, paramilitary groups, narco traffickers, and insurgents such as the Revolutionary Armed Forces of Colombia (FARC), M-19 and the National Liberation Army (ELN).

Throughout the 60s and 70s The two gunboats often towed barges set up as floating barracks behind them packed with Marines and, just as they did in 1933, provided gunfire support for her landing force going ashore.

Barranquilla, pushing 40, was laid up in the 1970s and cannibalized to keep the more famous, and class leader Cartagena, in operation.

Her day came on 26 July 1986, with 51 years of service behind  her; she was decommissioned and landed ashore, her feet dry. She was disarmed except for her Bofors (minus breech), her machinery removed, and all fluids drained.

Note her Bofors forward and yes, that is as deep as her hull goes, hence the large above deck superstructure.

She is retained as a museum, open to the public, at Naval Base ARC Leguizamo, although plans are afoot to dismantle her and transfer the vessel to another base where she would be restored.

Specs:

Displacement: 142 tons full
Length: 137.5 feet
Beam: 23.49 feet
Draft: 2-4 feet
Machinery: 2 300hp Gardner semi-diesels (replaced by Detroit Diesels in 1960s)
Diesel oil bunkerage: 24 tons full load
Range: 2100 nm at 15 knots, nearly twice that at 8.
Speed: 15.5 knots on trials, 10 knots cruising
Crew: 2 officers, 32 enlisted (as built) later 39 after 1960s modernization. Up to 100~ infantry
Armament:
12-pdr [3″/40 (7.62 cm)] 12cwt QF (1931-60)
40mm Bofors (After 1960, Cartagena and Barranquilla only)
20mm AAA (Fitted 1939)
4 Vickers, later swapped out for M1919 Brownings, later swapped for M60 GPMGs and M2s in Cartagena by 1980s.

If you liked this column, please consider joining the International Naval Research Organization (INRO), Publishers of Warship International

They are possibly one of the best sources of naval study, images, and fellowship you can find http://www.warship.org/

The International Naval Research Organization is a non-profit corporation dedicated to the encouragement of the study of naval vessels and their histories, principally in the era of iron and steel warships (about 1860 to date). Its purpose is to provide information and a means of contact for those interested in warships.

Nearing their 50th Anniversary, Warship International, the written tome of the INRO has published hundreds of articles, most of which are unique in their sweep and subject.

I’m a member, so should you be!

The last Oliver Hazard Perry-class frigate deployment ended on Sunday when USS Kauffman (FFG-59) returned to Naval Station Norfolk, Va. following six months in U.S. Southern Command last week, ending the Navy’s 42 year hot and cold love affair with these ships.

It’s the end of a heck of a ride that started 10 March 1973 when USS Oliver Hazard Perry (PFG-109, FFG-7) was ordered. As noted by USNI, the once 51-ship class now just has 15 hulls left in Uncle’s inventory, and they are all set to dispose within the year.

150410-N-IG780-186 PANAMA CANAL, Panama (April 10, 2015) The guided-missile frigate USS Kauffman (FFG 59) transits the Panama Canal. Kauffman is underway in support of Operation Martillo, a joint operation with the U.S. Coast Guard and partner nations within the U.S. 4th Fleet area of responsibility. (U.S. Navy photo by Mass Communication Specialist 3rd Class Shane A. Jackson/Released)

The German raider SMS Kormoran (HSK-8) and the light cruiser HMAS Sydney (D48) were re-discovered in 2008 with an expedition to the wrecks going out earlier this year.

The two locked horns in an epic battle that sent both to the bottom 19 November 1941 in the (then relatively peaceful) Pacific/Indian Ocean theater.

The German raider went 515-feet, 8,700-tons and had a main battery of 6 × 15 cm (5.9 in) SK L/45 C guns– and no armor with a speed of just 18 knots.

HMAS Sydney, a Leander-class light cruiser, was about the same size (562-feet, 8,900-tons) but carried 8 × 6-inch (150 mm) breech-loading Mk XXIII guns, had 1-3 inches of armor, and could touch 32-knots.

Still, the battle ended both.

Although Sydney covered herself with glory, her victory came at a high price and it was a national blow to Australia.

Australian Secretary to the War Cabinet Frederick Shedden to John Curtin, the first formal advice to the Prime Minister that the HMAS Sydney was believed lost

Researchers from Curtin University and the Western Australian Museum captured 700,000 high resolution images of the two ships with the help of two remotely operated underwater vehicles lowered to 2.5km on the ocean.

One of the raider’s 5.9’s named Linda

The tally board inside Kormoran with the kill list– up until 19 Nov anyway

Another Kormoran gun

They were designed to be hidden under false bulkheads

Sydney

Read more here

Here at LSOZI, we are going to take off every Wednesday for a look at the old steam/diesel navies of the 1859-1946 time period and will profile a different ship each week. These ships have a life, a tale all of their own, which sometimes takes them to the strangest places. – Christopher Eger

Warship Wednesday July 15, 2015: The Great War’s Granite State

Click to big up

Here we see the Connecticut-class battleship, USS New Hampshire (BB-25) at age 12 in the Gatun Locks of the Panama Canal. At this point of her life the young girl had already been in two real live shooting wars, had sunk a friendly battleship, and had but three years to live.

As part of the international naval race, the Connecticut-class was the top of the line in your U.S. predreadnought ships of the line. A century ago, the Connecticuts were the best and most intensely beautiful warships in the US Navy.

Connecticut herself was such an important ship that a crowd of some 30,000 civilians as well as most of the entire active battle fleet of the Atlantic Squadron was present for her commissioning in 1906. As a 15,000-ton ship with 11-inches of armor belt and carrying four 12-inch guns, she was a hoss.

USS Connecticut with a bone in her mouth on trials, 1906

Of course, the commissioning of the all-big-gun HMS Dreadnought the very same year, with her 10×12-inch guns, 21-knot top speed, and up to 12-inches of armor in a 21,000-ton package, the Connecticut was already sadly and badly obsolete.

That didn’t stop the Navy from finishing five sisters, Louisiana, Vermont, Kansas, Minnesota, and our hero, New Hampshire by 1908, spread across four east coast shipyards. Antiquated before they were even finished.

View of the ship’s bow decoration, taken while the battleship was in dry-docks at the New York Navy Yard, Brooklyn, New York, 6 January 1909. Note gilt-work on the eagle figurehead and associated decorations, stockless anchors in hawsepipe, stocked anchor on billboard further aft, Sailors leaning on the bow bulwark, jack at half-mast, bell mounted in front of the ship’s pilothouse, and barred portholes. Photograph from the Bureau of Ships Collection in the U.S. National Archives / USNHC # NH 19-N-4-8-21, via Navsource. Click to very much big up

New Hampshire was laid down 1 May 1905 (just days before the pivotal Battle of Tsushima Strait., the apogee of predreadnought battlewagons). She was built alongside sistership USS Kansas at New York Shipbuilding Corporation in Camden, NJ at a cost of $3,748,000 and was commissioned 19 March 1908– then was rushed into front line service.

New Hampshire on trails note no main 12 inch guns have been fitted. Also note her twin military masts.

On her shakedown cruise, New Hampshire schlepped a provisional Marine regiment from Hampton Roads to Panama to protect the Canal there. You see her five sisters, all completed the year before, had set off on an around the world cruise of the Great White Fleet, and she was left holding the line until they returned and, afterwards, was one of the first ships made “combat ready” by replacing her original military masts with lattice cage masts, trading gleaming white and buff for haze gray, and landing her ornate bow crest seen above.

In March 1911, she got to warm up her four 12 inch /45 Mark 5 guns as well as her extensive (20 gun!) mixed set of 7 and 8 inchers on the former battleship USS Texas. Renamed the USS San Marcos, that 1892-era 6,300-ton vessel was one of the nation’s first modern heavy warships. By 1911, she was barely considered a warship anymore by modern standards so it made sense that her 12-inches of armor plate should be tested on the New Hampshire‘s still relatively modern guns.

USS New Hampshire B-25 firing on the target ship San Marcos (ex-Texas) at Tangier Sound in Chesapeake Bay, March 1911. This photograph is of historical interest as it was one of the first gun shoots where a spotter in the cage masts was used to spot fall of shot. Previously, each gun layer or turret captain utilizing their turret gunsights was responsible. This new technique increased the maximum possible engagement range from 12,000 yards (11,000 m) up to about 24,000 yards (22,000 m). Also note the ship’s wake and that firing a broadside did not push the ship sideways. U.S. Naval Historical Center Photograph # NH 73105. Photo colorized by irootoko_jr  Oh yeah, and CLICK TO BIG UP

And the 870 lbs. AP shells of New Hampshire did their job very well, destroying her above the waterline and holing her below so many times she sank at her moorings and the current was allowed to flow without hindrance from side to side.

The below images are from Navsource via USNIP, 1938, courtesy of Pieter Bakel, and are attributed to Lt.Cdr. Radford Moses, USNR who was among the inspectors of the old San Marcos after New Hampshire was done with her.

After sinking San Marcos, New Hampshire trained mids from Annapolis and conducted peacetime cycles of training and flag waving missions abroad.

In April 1914, she was among the ships who landed shore parties to occupy Veracruz.

By the time the U.S. entered WWI, New Hampshire was relegated to train gunnery and engineering rates in Chesapeake Bay and by September 1918 was tasked with escorting convoys across the North Atlantic.

In the Hudson River, New York, 27 December 1918. Note wartime modifications, including removal of some of the seven-inch and three-inch broadside guns and fitting of blast deflection shields on the “cage” mast fire control positions. Photo courtesy of Larry Bonn. Text courtesy of USNHC # NH 2891

Then came magic carpet rides bringing Doughboys back from ‘Over There’ through the first part of 1919.

Lloyd Brown, a 104-year-old World War I veteran takes a moment to pause as he remembers being in the Philadelphia Naval Shipyard with his ship the day WW I ended, at his home in Charlotte Hall, Maryland, on November 9, 2005. Brown remembered Armistice Day in 1918 as few, ever so few, veterans can. “For the servicemen there were lots of hugs and kisses,” he recalls Brown, a teenage seaman aboard the battleship USS New Hampshire when the fighting stopped. “We were so happy that the war was over.” Brown added, “There’s not too many of us around any more.” An estimated 2 million Americans served in Europe after the U.S. entered the war in 1917. Lloyd Brown passed away in April of 2007, at the age of 105. (AP Photo/Chris Gardner)

Peacetime service after the war for the relatively young ship (she was but a decade old) was more of the same midshipmen cruises and flag-waving.

On Nov. 10, 1923, in one of the saddest days for any naval buff, all six of the Connecticuts were stricken from the Naval List and very soon after scrapped in accordance with the terms of the Washington Naval Treaty.

By the end of 1924, the entire class was nothing but so much re-purposed steel, although it’s likely that some of her smaller mounts were retained in storage and used during WWII to arm merchantmen.

Perhaps the only tangible piece of the old battleship New Hampshire is her 72-piece silver service and bell. Expertly made by New Hampshire’s W.B. Durgin Co. and presented to the PCS in 1908, it is currently on display at the New Hampshire Historical Society in Concord.

Via Robert Dole, Maritime Quest.

Her bell is preserved at Portsmouth. Image by Jim Cerny

Specs:

Displacement: 16,000 long tons (16,000 t)
Length: 456 ft. 4 in (139.09 m)
Beam: 76 ft. 10 in (23.42 m)
Draft: 24 ft. 6 in (7.47 m)
Propulsion: 12 Babcock & Wilcox boilers
16,500 ihp (12,300 kW)
Speed: 18 kn (21 mph; 33 km/h)
Complement: 827 officers and men
Armament:
4 × 12 in (305 mm)/45 cal Mark 5 guns
8 × 8 in (203 mm)/45 cal guns
12 × 7 in (178 mm)/45 cal guns
20 × 3 in (76 mm)/50 cal guns
12 × 3 pounder guns
4 × 1 pounder guns
4 × 21 in (530 mm) torpedo tubes
Armor:
Belt: 6–11 in (152–279 mm)
Barbettes: 6–10 in (152–254 mm)
Turret Main: 8–12 in (203–305 mm)
Turret secondary: 7 in (178 mm)
Conning tower: 9 in (229 mm)

If you liked this column, please consider joining the International Naval Research Organization (INRO), Publishers of Warship International

They are possibly one of the best sources of naval study, images, and fellowship you can find http://www.warship.org/

The International Naval Research Organization is a non-profit corporation dedicated to the encouragement of the study of naval vessels and their histories, principally in the era of iron and steel warships (about 1860 to date). Its purpose is to provide information and a means of contact for those interested in warships.

Nearing their 50th Anniversary, Warship International, the written tome of the INRO has published hundreds of articles, most of which are unique in their sweep and subject.

I’m a member, so should you be!

Much as once a week I like to take time off to cover warships (Wednesdays), on Sunday, I like to cover military art and the painters, illustrators, sculptors, and the like that produced them.

Combat Gallery Sunday : The Martial Art of Tom W. Freeman

Born in 1952 in Pontiac, Michigan, Tom’s family moved to the East Coast when he was 12. At age 18, Freeman joined the U.S. Marine Corps Reserve in 1970 and left the military during the post-Vietnam draw down in 1977.

Although not professionally trained as an artist, Tom was skilled and had an eye for naval subjects, visiting the offices of the U.S. Naval Institute and pitching artwork that went on to grace the cover of the USNI’s journal, Proceedings (I’ve had a subscription since 9th grade NJROTC and encourage you to do the same!)

In all, he did the covers for 9 issues of Proceedings and 22 issues of Naval History magazine. He became the first artist in residence to the United States Naval Institute.

Freeman’s first cover, Feb. 1977, Proceedings.

He went on to become widely accepted and painted portraits for the White House, National Museum of the U.S. Navy, Annapolis, the SECNAV’s office, the Naval Historical Command, CNET, the NROTC program, and others as well as publish extensively.

Yamato’s Final Voyage

USS Tennessee

USS Houston, CA 30 valiantly fights on alone during the night of February 27-28, 1942 against an overwhelming Japanese Naval Force. “They Sold Their Lives Dearly” by Tom Freeman.

USCG Hamilton, (WMSL-753) interdicts drug runners by tom freeman

Pioneers

Pawn Takes Castle during Battle of Midway by Tom Freeman (Akagi means red castle)

Oil on canvas by the artist Tom Freeman entitled The Harder (SS-257) Rescues Ensign John Gavlin. Date is 1 April 1944. Image via Navsource

Too Close

Action in the Slot PT-109

IJN Soryu (Blue Dragon) by Tom Freeman

French helicopter carrier Jeanne d’Arc

(16 June 2003) Award-winning artist Tom W. Freeman presents his painting “Payment in Iron” to the Honorable Hansford T. Johnson, Acting Secretary of the Navy (SECNAV). The artwork will hang in the main entrance to the Acting SECNAV’s office. U.S. Navy photo by Journalist 1st Class Craig P. Strawser.

He delved extensively into Civil War maritime history, a subject that is often left uncovered.

You Can Run, CSS Alabama chases down Yankee clipper.

The Fatal Chase by Tom Freeman. The USS Hatteras engages the Confederate raider CSS Alabama. Hatteras was sunk in the ensuing battle

“Gunfight on the Roanoke,” The gun crew of the U.S.S. Miami witnesses the sinking to the U.S.S. Southfield by the C.S.S. Albemarle, April 19, 1864. Via TomFreemanArt.com

CSS Fredericksburg at Trent’s Reach – Tom Freeman

Freeman’s magnum opus was a series of 42 paintings and a mural covering the attack on Pearl Harbor on Dec. 7, 1941 for the USS Arizona Museum, who display them prominently in their collection, seen by millions.

Attack on the Tang

Nakajima B5N2 attack bomber taking off from aircraft carrier Akagi, 7 December 1941. Artwork by Tom Freeman.

The Last Mooring

Fuchida’s planes cross the coast, by Tom Freeman.

Sadly, Mr. Freeman crossed the bar last month on June 18 at age 62. Freeman is survived by his wife Ann, five children and 13 grandchildren.

Artist Tom Freeman at Pearl Harbor

His official website, Tom Freeman Art.com is up and running and I encourage you visit it.

‘A Guest of the King’ USS Enterprise arrives in Bahrain for a port call. Tom Freeman

This month’s Proceedings has a salute to Freeman included and is repeated on their website and they note that his “Guest of the King” might well be the only American painting gracing the palace of King Hamad bin Isa Al-Khalifa of Bahrain.

Thank you for your work, sir.