One Potato Two Potato - or Rat Bowling
[A walk along the jetty in Halifax in late October 2013 past HMCS Iroquois caused Lucky to contemplate why 'skimmers' (surface ships) have rat guards on their lines ashore while submarines do not. One thought led to another and a long buried dit surfaced in the memory bank.]
One Potato Two Potato Three Potato Four
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Nobody Loved Us, Not Even the Rats
We didn't need rat guards because we used to think the rats didn't love us. No one else in the navy did! Although I've heard a couple of dits about them I have never experienced a rat on a boat. But I was partner to initiating a rat alert in the control room while deep.
Setting the Scene
The doorway to Ojibwa's fully enclosed Sound Room, pre-SOUP, was directly across the narrow passageway from the old man's cabin. The very heavy security door folded in half so that it could be swung out into the passageway and pinned back at sea making the passageway even narrower.
Spud Time at the OK Coral
The forward torpedo room watch keeper traditionally peeled the next day’s potatoes for the chef during the silent hours at night. The on-going middle watch keeper would retrieve a bag of potatoes from the rot locker in the auxiliary machinery space (AMS) and carry it forward to the forends, through the control room and past the sound room.
LSSN Tom Murray and I had just closed up for the middle watch in the sound room when LSWU Tony Halverson was making his way forward with a bag of spuds. The bag must have been ripped or open because as he was squeezing past the sound room door several spuds tumbled out into the sound room. Tony carried on, oblivious, and Tom and I gathered up the spuds intending to give them to the next person heading forward for Tony. We soon detected a new contact and forgot about the spuds.
LSSN Tom Murray and I had just closed up for the middle watch in the sound room when LSWU Tony Halverson was making his way forward with a bag of spuds. The bag must have been ripped or open because as he was squeezing past the sound room door several spuds tumbled out into the sound room. Tony carried on, oblivious, and Tom and I gathered up the spuds intending to give them to the next person heading forward for Tony. We soon detected a new contact and forgot about the spuds.
Nothing More Boring
At about 0200 all had gone quiet again. No contacts. The control room was in dim red lighting, not fully blacked out like at periscope depth, and I had my night vision. Like all of the other watch keepers I could easily make out shapes and moving objects. There was nothing more boring than the middle watch, maintaining a set course, speed and depth while evading skimmers who were miles away chasing their own tails.
I was sitting with my back against the door jamb, facing aft and monitoring the 197 Watcher mounted on the after bulkhead. Leaning a little to port I could look out into the control room past the TOFI, both periscopes, the OMC and the panel all the way aft to the after black out curtains. It was a straight run and put me in mind of a bowling alley lane as I looked back down at the small pile of spuds on the deck beside me. The boredom soon took charge. I picked out the roundest spud and explored the feel in my hand. It was about as big as a baseball with the same weight. I hitched my butt to the right a little so my right arm could swing freely in the passageway. I gave the spud a couple of underhand practice swings and let her go. The little black shape went rolling aft along the deck, careening off the OMC, then the after periscope roundabout before it disappearing into the shadows in the maze of pipe work behind the panel, port side aft.
Sandy Sees Something
LSER Sandy Powers, who had been sitting, fighting the sand man, on the little 1st Panel watch keeper seat sat bolt upright and exclaimed, "Did anyone see that?" and proceeded to scan the deck with his red lens flash light. A couple of disinterested grunts from other watch keepers had Sandy scratching his head not eager to press the issue.
Things Get Rolling
I was giving Tom a very quiet running commentary, and selecting my next object of delight. Giving it about 5 minutes I bowled the second, fairly round, spud out into the control room. Sandy was a little more alert now. As the spud, again, bounced off the OMC, cleared the search periscope roundabout this time and disappeared under the Deep Echo Sounder console in the starboard after corner out of my sight and apparently everyone else's too. Sandy leapt to his feet and reported "There! Did you see it? It's a rat!"
Flurry of Flashlights
Now a couple of more flashlights were employed with a little more interest in Sandy's claim, but to no avail. The 2nd OOW wondered forward with his torch and stuck his head into the sound room. Tom and I had taken a very quick and serious interest in our sonar sets and stifled our smirks.
"Did you guys see anything like a rat?"
After enduring a few seconds of the most incredulous expressions that we could muster he backed out and headed aft to control. After the futile one or two minute search, Sandy took some heat for having hallucinations and all went back to their quiet inner thoughts. All except Sandy who was now vigilantly on guard concentrating on the darkest corners aft in the control room.
"Did you guys see anything like a rat?"
After enduring a few seconds of the most incredulous expressions that we could muster he backed out and headed aft to control. After the futile one or two minute search, Sandy took some heat for having hallucinations and all went back to their quiet inner thoughts. All except Sandy who was now vigilantly on guard concentrating on the darkest corners aft in the control room.
Torpedo Tubers
I selected my next tuber vermin projectile. It was shaped like a goose egg. A little stir was occurring in the control room as they rotated through positions, checked gauges and meters and logged results. It seemed that everyone, including Sandy, was pre-occupied with something focused away from my rat lane. The spud went airborne as it wobbled out of round, and bounced off Sandy's ankle before it hit a blackout curtain and landed in the first trap.
The Old Man Wakes Up
Tom and I were busy wiping our eyes when we heard the groan from across the passageway as the Old Man's curtain opened. As he entered the control room he asked,
"What's all the damn noise and commotion about?"
Everyone was responding at once. The Old Man grunted and ordered "Just find the damn thing and get rid of it. And keep the noise" As he was headed back into his cabin he was muttering something like, "How the hell does a rat get aboard?"
"What's all the damn noise and commotion about?"
Everyone was responding at once. The Old Man grunted and ordered "Just find the damn thing and get rid of it. And keep the noise" As he was headed back into his cabin he was muttering something like, "How the hell does a rat get aboard?"
Reporting White Light
He was still making sounds of discontent when I reached across the passageway, tapped on the bulkhead and reported to the CO,
"Captain, sir, we are going to shut the sound room door so we can put on a white light to chase a minor fault."
Tom picked up on it right away and reported the same to the CEP operator in Control. It was always important to report the presence of white light anywhere in the control room at night.
Everyone out there went on the hunt. It was logged and passed on as part of the watch report turnover for the next few days.
"Captain, sir, we are going to shut the sound room door so we can put on a white light to chase a minor fault."
Tom picked up on it right away and reported the same to the CEP operator in Control. It was always important to report the presence of white light anywhere in the control room at night.
Everyone out there went on the hunt. It was logged and passed on as part of the watch report turnover for the next few days.
Not So Endearing
I didn't know until after it happened the next day that the chef and the steward emptied the vegetable locker in the AMS looking for the rat. Little did they know that they had to handle bags of the little faux critters to do their search. The control room was the sonar cleaning station responsibility so Tom and I went along with the rat hunting safari when at cleaning stations, only we wanted to retrieve the evidence that now weighed on us as a lark gone too far. We never found those spuds. They must have managed to find their way down to the AMS through some of the many conduits and openings near the pressure hull at deck level. If found down there it would be assumed that they fell out of a bag from the veg locker.
Tom and I made a solemn vow to keep our rat traps shut.
It was amazing just how many people reported seeing the little trouble maker over the next few nights, never in daylight, but at that little devil remained active in the imaginations of some. I suppose some people have a need to be part of the main action after weeks of boring ops.
Tom and I made a solemn vow to keep our rat traps shut.
It was amazing just how many people reported seeing the little trouble maker over the next few nights, never in daylight, but at that little devil remained active in the imaginations of some. I suppose some people have a need to be part of the main action after weeks of boring ops.
Fessing Up
It would be long after the rat tale had escalated to a ten pound monster with a tail that long attacking control room watch keepers and just barely escaping their grasp as it disappeared into the pipe work, and a couple too many tots one day, that we finally admitted our folly.
Of course everyone who was involved laughed it off and declared that they knew it from the start and weren't fooled at all. Everyone except Sandy that is. But he took it in stride like a real boatman. Buddies in Boats!
Mind yer bubble
Jim
Of course everyone who was involved laughed it off and declared that they knew it from the start and weren't fooled at all. Everyone except Sandy that is. But he took it in stride like a real boatman. Buddies in Boats!
Mind yer bubble
Jim