2

FLASH! FLASH!

I need photos and slides showing every facet of shipboard electrical

safety (e.g., electrician’s mates on the job doing what they do), and I need

them ASAP. As noted in the previous issue’s table of contents, the AprilJune 1999 Fathom will be devoted to the fleetwide problem of electrical

shocks and tagouts. If you can help, mail your photos to: Fathom Editor

(Code 714), 375 A St., Norfolk, Va. 23511-4399. I’ll also accept images

attached to e-mail in JPEG format. My e-mail address is ktestorf@

safecen.navy.mil. Anything you send in the mail will be returned if you

include a request with a return address.

RAdm. R.E. Besal

Commander, Naval Safety Center

Bill Mooberry

Executive Director

Cdr. John Sokolowski

Director, Afloat Safety Programs

John Mahoney

Head, Media and Education Support Dept.

Derek Nelson

Editor in Chief

Cdr. Elizabeth Rowe

Head, Afloat Statistics and Data

Fathom Staff

Ken Testorff

Editor

Yvonne Dawson

Graphic Designer

John Williams

Illustrator

Fleet Patrons

We thank these recent contributors:

Lisa A. Gates, MSC

Ltjg. William A. Gilbert, VFA-83

Ltjg. Will Ranney and Ens. Chad Houllis,

 USS Safeguard (ARS-50)

Editor’s Challenge

When you see a photo in Fathom without the

apparent safety violations noted in the caption,

don’t just call or e-mail me with a list of the

problems. Become part of the solution by

sending me a corrected photo.

Fathom is a professional journal published quarterly by the Naval Safety

Center for Navy personnel. Official distribution is to the surface and

submarine force and to their appropriate staffs, schools and other

organizations, including industrial and allied managers. It is funded and

printed in accordance with all applicable Navy publishing and printing

regulations and as defined by the Navy Publications Review Board. The

contents should not be considered directive and may not be construed

as incriminating under Art. 31, Uniform Code of Military Justice.

Reference to commercial products does not imply Navy endorsement,

and the views of the authors are not necessarily those of the Naval

Safety Center. Photos and art are representative and may not show the

people and equipment discussed. Distribution is handled by the Media

and Education Department, (757) 444-3520, Ext. 7256. Send comments,

contributions and questions to address below.

POSTMASTER: Fathom (ISSN 0014-8822) is published quarterly by the

Naval Safety Center.

Periodicals postage paid at Norfolk, VA, and additional mailing offices

Send address changes to:

Commander, Naval Safety Center

Attn: Fathom, Code 714

375 A St., Norfolk, VA 23511-4399

(757) 444-3520, Ext. 7251

e-mail: ktestorf@safecen.navy.mil

NAVSAFECEN BBS (757) 444-7927

(DSN 564)

Homepage:http://www.norfolk.navy.mil/safecen

Sections

Ship Control 4

Submarine Systems 13

Deck Seamanship 19

Engineering Systems 26

Industrial Hygiene & NavOSH 29

i Volume 31, Number 1, 1999

n

s

i

d

e

Cover:

A bridge crew guides their ship alongside a pier in a foreign port.
January-March 1999

3

Trouble up the River

A container ship collides with a Coast Guard

cutter on the Columbia River in Oregon.

You Want To Be Like Superman?

A look at what it’s like being a quadriplegic, whether you’re

Christopher Reeve or one of the 23 Marines and nine Sailors

who, since 1993, have shared his problems.

Mooring Dangers Also Lurk in U.S. Ports

A ship ends up with three holes in the port side, 01 level,

and one hole in the JP-5 refueling pit while mooring.

The Day Oscar Became Real

A boat officer learns the value of training when his ship’s

ready-lifeboat crew is called away to respond to an actual

emergency.

Great Flying Flukes!

Anchoring mishaps since June 1, 1993, point out the need for

everyone involved in these operations to know their jobs.

Common Anchoring Pitfalls

These errors cause most anchoring mishaps.

What Life Jacket, Where and When?

Confused about life jackets? Here’s the latest information

available on the four most common types used aboard surface

ships.

Is Your Ship Fused for Fires and

Brownouts?

When electrician’s mates change a fuse, they need to

consider what caused it to blow.

Fuse Boxes: The Rest of the Story

This author admits that overfusing is a concern aboard

many ships, but he feels the worst fuse-box problems are

loose connections, grounded circuits, and frayed wiring.

Overhaul: Recollections of an

Assistant Safety Officer

In this fourth and final part of a series, an assistant safety

officer describes how his ship went through a six-month

ROH without any major mishaps, injuries, or equipment

damage.

Departments

Rudder Amidships pg. 15

Editorial pg. 32

 2

19

20

23

28

29

pg. 4

pg. 13

pg. 9

Articles

Some tales about ships entering foreign ports are

comical. Other stories, however, aren’t amusing.

As a few COs have learned, overcoming a

language barrier can be a costly adventure.

Million-Dollar TAs Going UA

Some submarines are having problems

keeping their towed-sonar arrays.

Follies of Entering Foreign Ports

26

22

12
4

being dropped through a gallows trapdoor with a

noose around your neck.

This kind of injury can happen if you dive in

shallow water, get knocked down in waves, fall

off a motorcycle, slam into the roof or windows of

a car during a wreck, or get ejected during a

collision. Since 1993, 23 Marines and nine Sailors

have suffered hangman’s injuries and are quadriplegics or paraplegics.

Despite having the best available medical

care since his mishap, Reeve has been in shaky

health since his fall. Eleven times he has returned

to the hospital, often with life-threatening trouble:

pneumonia, a collapsed lung, two blood clots, and

an infection that nearly forced doctors to amputate

part of his leg.

In his book, Reeve describes what his life is

like as a quadriplegic. There are days when the

ritual of getting up in the morning and getting in

bed at night takes five hours.

A nurse and her aide appear at 8 a.m. and

serve him 20 pills—vitamins plus drugs to control

spasms, keep his bladder from shrinking, and

maintain bowel function.

He sleeps in arm and foot splints, and after

being in one position all night, his joints and

muscles are frozen. His arms and legs go into wild

spasms when the splints come off, and it takes the

full power of the nurse and the aide to hold them

down.

Then follows the morning hello from his 5-

year-old son and an hour of so of “ranging”—the

slow manipulation of his limbs by the nurse. This

prevents atrophy, for as Reeve notes, you can’t

stand or walk with atrophied leg muscles. [Reeve

has vowed to walk again by the time he turns 50.

That will happen in September 2002—Ed.] After

that, he’s ready to be dressed. “When two people

YOU WANT TO BE LIKE

Actors often portray quadriplegics, who are

 paralyzed from the neck down, and

 paraplegics, who have the entire lower half

of their body paralyzed. Except for having to sit in

wheel chairs until the show ends, they look and

have well-toned bodies. That’s because they’re

actors and are playing parts. But one actor isn’t

playing a part. He is Christopher Reeve, perhaps

the most famous quadriplegic in the world. Reeve,

who brought Superman to life on the screen, is

still broad-shouldered and handsome, still has

muscular thighs and a full chest, and seeing him in

a tuxedo sitting in his industrial-strength wheelchair, you may think that life for him is not so bad

after all.

Think again.

Reeve has written a book titled Still Me that

tells how his life changed drastically since May

27, 1995, when he fell from a horse during a

jumping competition. For reasons he will never

know, his horse, Buck, put on the brakes in

midjump. The actor went flying over the horse’s

head, unable to break his fall because his hands

were tangled in the reins.

Reeve was taken to the University of Virginia

Hospital in Charlottesville, where doctors devised

a never-before-performed operation to reattach his

skull to his spinal column. He had what is called a

hangman’s injury—the same trauma produced by

special

By Rae Mack

Naval Safety Center
January-March 1999

5special

have to roll you back and forth in order to put

on your underpants at age 45, it’s a difficult

lesson in acceptance,” he writes.

“I used to have to control my anger with

myself for having ended up in this situation.

Often I listen to music or watch TV so I don’t

have to think about being taken care of like a

baby.”

Frequently through the day, he blows

into a little tube that’s placed before his

face. This causes the chair to shift his

weight, helping prevent the ulcers that

are a constant worry.

The nighttime ranging is almost

pleasant after so many hours in the

chair, but it is followed by perhaps

the hardest part of the day: the

“bowel” program.

“I’m turned on my side, and

the aide pushes on my stomach

with his fist to force stool down

through the intestines and out

onto plastic sheets placed under

me. Sometimes it can take nearly

an hour...It seems like an eternity.”

Reeve takes a sedative to

control nighttime spasms and

finally drifts off to sleep.

That’s how a privileged

person with the resources to pay

for round-the-clock nursing care at $40

an hour spends his days. That care costs

him $960 a day, or $350,400 a year. He has

three medical-insurance policies, one of

which has run out. And his exercise equipment cost him more than $100,000.

The lance corporal who dove headfirst off

a boat ramp into shallow water, the AO2 who

dove headfirst into a 3-foot-deep children’s

wading pool, and the SH3 who fell out of a tree in

his backyard don’t have these resources. Neither

do most of the civilian employees of the Navy and

Marine Corps.

How would you fare if you were in the same

situation as Christopher Reeve? Think about this

before you dive into shallow water, before you drive

around without being buckled up, or before you ride

that ornery bull at an amateur’s rodeo.

Reprinted from Winter 1998-1999 Ashore.

The author’s e-mail address is vmack@safecen. navy.mil
6 ship control

By Cdr. Kevin Nicholas,

Naval Safety Center
January-March 1999

7

January-March 1999

ship control

Rules of the road, voice

communications, and

fundamental seamanship

are supposed to prevent

mishaps. However, they

didn’t keep a Coast Guard

cutter and a container

ship from colliding on

Oregon’s Columbia River.
8

Although the current was predicted to be

flooding, several bridge watchstanders saw ebb

tails on passing buoys in the Sand Island Range

Reach. As the cutter entered the Desdemona Shoal

Reach, the CO ordered the plotter to recalculate set

and drift. The plotter noted a one-and-a-half-knot

ebb along the channel axis, which agreed with

visual observations.

At 2055, the outbound container ship exchanged its river pilots for a bar pilot while in the

Astoria Range Reach. At 2102, the bar pilot

ordered half ahead, which, for the container ship,

meant 12 knots. The pilot testified he believed it

would take about 30 minutes to achieve that speed.

He remained at half ahead throughout the transit.

At 2107, while passing under the Astoria Bridge,

the pilot made a security call on channel 13. He

announced his location, direction and 36-foot draft.

With a Coast Guard cutter’s CO and OOD

 stationed on the port bridge wing, the

 CO ordered five short blasts on the

ship’s whistle. Meanwhile, the boatswain’s mate of

the watch ordered the collision alarm sounded. He

also passed the word, “Collision port side imminent, brace for shock.”

During the next few anxious moments, bridgewatch personnel aboard the 180-foot cutter

watched helplessly as their ship crossed the path of

a 757-foot container ship. When the cutter was

about halfway across the container ship’s bow, the

CO ordered, “Left full rudder,” in an effort to kick

the stern clear. Nearly simultaneously, a pilot

aboard the container ship executed a similar

maneuver. About 2125, the two ships collided with

a glancing port-to-port blow.

“I thought rules of the road, voice communications, and fundamental seamanship were supposed

to prevent mishaps like this one,” you’re probably

thinking, and you’re right. These devices usually

do help ships share the oceans, coastal waters and

rivers with merchant vessels without incident.

However, they didn’t thwart this collision on the

Columbia River in Oregon. The circumstances

surrounding this mishap can serve as a training aid

for seasoned ship handlers, as well as personnel

qualifying as OODs. Here’s the story:

With its three-day mission complete, the Coast

Guard cutter approached the entrance to the

Columbia River about 2000. Watch personnel

made a security call on channel 13 to advise other

vessels of the impending transit. They also called

the bar pilots to verify expected traffic on the river.

During this call, they learned that two tugs and the

pilot boat were outbound in the first two legs of the

trip. A series of three deep-draft ships were outbound farther up the river.

The sun set at 2040, and fog limited visibility

to 500 yards during most of the transit. Because of

these factors, the cutter sounded fog signals and

averaged 7 to 10 knots during the transit. The OOD

kept the ship along the extreme right edge of the

channel and occasionally had to alter course to

avoid the red buoys marking the red side. The

radar-navigation team produced good fixes

throughout the transit.

Using a hand-held marine radio, the CO talked

to watchstanders aboard four outbound vessels

during the first half of the 20-nautical-mile voyage

up the river. These discussions were routine.

ship control
January-March 1999

9

About 2110, the Coast Guard cutter called the

container ship on channel 13. At that time, the

ships were on opposite sides of a 48-degree cutoff

turn connecting Desdemona Shoal Reach to Tansy

Point Range Reach. The pilot aboard the container

ship proposed a port-to-port passage, but the

cutter’s CO suggested a starboard-to-starboard. He

explained that the water depth along the green side

of lower Desdemona Shoal Reach was too shallow

for the container ship, but that it was adequate for

the cutter. The pilot rejected this proposal and

restated his preference for passing port-to-port.

The cutter’s CO agreed.

At this point, the ships were about three miles

apart. The cutter was making eight knots, and the

container ship was making eight to ten knots,

building to 12.

Moments later, the cutter’s CO had a second

conversation with the container ship’s pilot on

channel 13. It isn’t clear who initiated the call, but

the pilot told the CO that his ship was occupying

the portion of the channel (e.g., the point of maximum encroachment of the Desdemona Sands Shoal

onto the channel) in which he preferred not to

meet. The pilot later testified that he used this

conversation to explain he would need most of the

channel to complete his turn.

About 2119, as the container ship passed buoy

29, the pilot started the cutoff turn to starboard by

ordering, “Right ten degrees rudder.” When an

undetermined period of time had passed, he realized that his order didn’t have adequate effect, so

the pilot increased rudder to right 15 degrees. The

course recorder installed on the container ship

noted that the ship started turning to starboard at

2120, with about 2,800 yards separating the two

ships. The cutter’s shipping officer saw the container ship making its turn to starboard and thought

it was turning late, which would make it come

close to the wrong side of the channel. However,

he didn’t report this matter to the CO or OOD.

Sometime during the container ship’s turn, the

pilot increased rudder to right 20 degrees. This

move was in response to his concern about the

cutter’s position relative to the container ship’s

projected turning radius. Just before 2122, from a

position on or slightly outside the right-hand edge

of the channel, the cutter’s CO told the OOD to

slow and alter course to starboard so the container

ship would have more room to turn. The OOD

passed orders to slow to four knots. He also said to

steer a course 10 degrees right of base course. The

cutter held this course and speed for about a

minute and a half, which put it outside the right

edge of the channel.

Seconds later, the container ship’s pilot called

the cutter’s CO on channel 13 for the third and

final time. The pilot said there was good water to

the red side and that passing would be “close but

OK.” He testified he was trying to get the cutter’s

CO to give him more room. The CO, however,

stated there was no request or demand for his ship

to come still farther right. Because the CO was

concerned about his situation, he told the OOD to

come farther right. The OOD ordered another five

degrees to the right. The pilot testified he saw the

cutter in the radar moving to the right.

ship control
10

Immediately after this radio communication,

the pilot turned his attention to shoal water along

the green side of the next channel leg. He felt

certain he now would pass the cutter safely to port.

He checked the swing of the container ship to start

his alignment with Desdemona Shoal Reach. It

isn’t clear which rudder commands he used, but

the mechanical course recorder showed the container ship steady on a course of 294 degrees for

about a minute after this turn. That course was 18

degrees left of the channel axis of 312.

The cutter’s shipping officer recalled seeing

the container ship’s radar-course vector swing to

its left and the closest-point-of-approach distance

decrease to less than 100 yards. About 2124, both

ships came in sight of each other. The cutter, from

a position 160 yards outside the right-hand channel

boundary, held the container ship off its port bow.

The container ship, having swung wide through the

turn, held the cutter visually 500 yards off its

starboard bow. Both the master and pilot aboard

the container ship ordered, “Hard right rudder,”

and kept the vessel’s speed at half ahead. The

cutter’s OOD moved the throttle to back full. The

CO then ordered, “Right full rudder,” and moved

the throttle to ahead full.

Despite these and other last-minute efforts, the

cutter and container ship collided at 2125. The

port-side flair of the container ship’s bow hit the

port bridge wing of the cutter. This blow crushed

the cutter’s bridge wing inboard and down, pinning

the throttle in the ahead-full position. The container ship’s stem then hit the cutter on the port

side aft at an angle of five to ten degrees. The

plotter aboard the cutter sounded the generalemergency alarm, but there was no announcement

made over the 1MC to set the general-emergency

bill or to set material-condition Zebra. After the

collision, both ships passed clear.

Immediately after the collision, the flooding

alarm for the motor room sounded in the

engineroom. The engineer of the watch (EOOW)

reported this flooding to the bridge watch, who

repeated the report over the 1MC. The first person

to arrive in the motor room found fuel pouring

from a ruptured fuel tank and running into the

bilge. He also found damaged piping and a hole in

the skin of the ship above the waterline. He

climbed the ladder to damage-control central and

reported this damage to the EOOW.

Through his own investigation and more

reports from the repair-locker investigators, the

EOOW determined there was no external flooding.

He used a hand-held radio to pass this information

to the bridge watch. When the CO learned the

cutter wasn’t taking on water, he ordered, “Left full

rudder,” followed by “Rudder amidships,” to clear

the beach. The throttle still was stuck at ahead full.

Because he couldn’t confirm the bridge had communications with the engineroom, the CO ordered,

“Stop the engines” piped over the 1MC. The

EOOW and the engineroom oiler secured the

engines.

About 2132, the Coast Guard cutter anchored,

and crewmen investigated the extensive damage to

the port-side bridge wing, air castle, freeboard, and

a variety of equipment and systems. Three crewmen suffered minor injuries. Meanwhile, the

container ship reported only minor damage to

some hull plating, with no injuries.

The primary cause of this mishap was human

error. The container ship’s pilot misjudged the

handling characteristics of his ship and underestimated the presence and strength of the ebb

current. He turned late, used too little rudder, and

steadied up 18 degrees short of his new course—

before the Coast Guard cutter was past and clear.

Here are some recommendations to help you

avoid similar mishaps:

● Do a thorough and continuous risk assessment and maintain a careful, accurate navigation

plot. Situational awareness is critical, especially

while transiting in restricted waters.

● Project the point of passage with other

vessels to avoid meeting another ship in a turn.

When meeting a vessel in a turn, use extreme

caution.

● Use the 1MC system to keep all personnel

aware of time-critical information. Their ability to

make sound, effective decisions ensures the safety

of the ship and its crew.

How does your command prepare for and

handle transits in restricted waters? Are you ready

to face the unexpected, as well as the expected?

The author’s e-mail address is knichola@safecen.

navy.mil.

ship control
January-March 1999

11

By Ken Testorff,

Naval Safety Center

Whether the ship involved is a submarine...

Navy photo by PH1 Brian R. Lee

Two diesel submarines on a Med

 deployment approached a small

 Greek port, anticipating several days

of liberty. The lead submarine reached the

harbor entrance a bit early and slowed to wait

for the pilot. Shortly, an official-looking boat

approached and came alongside. A

man in a Greek naval uniform,

carrying a chart and newspaper,

boarded. Crewmen escorted him to

the bridge.

Pleasantries (much nodding and smiling)

were exchanged, a cup of coffee was provided, and the new harbor chart was examined. The CO then asked, “Is there good water

in this area?” and “Is this the best entrance

through the outer mole?” The only response

he got, though, was more affirmative nodding.

The submarine proceeded into the harbor

and moored without incident. The berth

ship control
12

Navy photo by PHAN Trahan

selected was chosen because it was the only

one vacant and line handlers were waiting.

The CO thanked the supposed pilot and asked

him if he would be hailing his boat and

returning to the harbor entrance to board the

other submarine. Because he didn’t get a

response, the CO rephrased his question. “The

submarine following also desires a pilot. Will

you be her pilot, or is another pilot going

out?” he asked.

A peculiar expression then swept across

the Greek’s face, followed by this response:

“Pilot? Me? I not pilot, not even seaman!”

Later discussion with the local naval and

port authorities revealed that the submarines

had arrived early. The harbor pilot had been

on time and had been waiting for a visual

signal before setting out to help. The sailing

directions plainly laid out the requirement for

this signal, but the submarines didn’t follow

the plan.

...or an aircraft carrier, mooring tales run the gamut from comical to costly.

ship control

The CO then asked, “Is

there good water in this

area?” and “Is this the

best entrance through the

outer mole?” The only

response he got, though,

was more affirmative

nodding.
January-March 1999

13

Who was the Greek who rode the first

submarine to its berth? He turned out to be the

previous night’s radio duty officer. He was just

delivering a corrected harbor chart on his way

home from work.

Although this tale is comical, stories about

other ships entering foreign ports aren’t as

amusing. For example, a cruiser reported

$40,000 to $50,000 worth of damage while

mooring to a pier in the Netherlands Antilles.

The ship was entering port with a harbor pilot

embarked, and one tug aft and one forward to

guide the ship to the pier. Winds were at 15 to

20 knots from the east. The ship pivoted and

backed into the berth, using a back one-third

bell.

At 500 yards, the CO ordered the anchor

dropped to stop and control movement of the

bow, but the anchor didn’t drop. Quickly, the

bow started setting down onto the pier. The CO

ordered the pilot to have the forward tug stop

pushing in the bow. He also gave the order,

“All ahead two-thirds, left full rudder,” in an

effort to correct bow drift. Because the pilot

was giving orders to the tugs in a foreign

language, the CO never learned whether his

order was relayed.

The ship’s momentum made it hit the pier.

The ship then returned to the basin to make

another approach. Before this second approach

started, though, the CO, conning officer, and

pilot again discussed how to use the tugs. This

time, the event went smoothly.

In his report of this mishap, the CO said his

future moorings would include a brief with the

bridge-watch team and the pilot. He also

modified the ship’s mooring procedure with a

requirement to place the anchor at the dip

before setting the sea-and-anchor detail to

ensure its release if necessary.

Another ship visiting the same port nine

months later had mooring problems, too, and,

like the cruiser, required about $50,000 worth

of repairs. This ship was scheduled to moor at

berth five, but it was occupied by a merchant

vessel. The local pilot recommended shifting to

berth six, just aft of berth five. He told the CO

another ship of the same class had berthed there

with no problem. When the CO expressed

concern about berth six having enough space,

the pilot reassured him.

With no further delay, the ship rang up allstop, and the pilot turned the ship with tugs made

up forward and aft and started backing it into the

berth. The XO called ranges to the quay wall

from the fantail, while the safety officer called

ranges to the vessel at berth five from the

fo’c’s’le. As the XO reported, “Ten feet to the

quay wall and continuing to close,” the safety

officer reported, “Forty feet to clear the moored

vessel,” which didn’t leave enough room for the

ship’s bow.

The CO ordered, “All ahead one-third,”

immediately followed by an ahead two-thirds

bell on both engines. The forward tug initially

kept pushing the ship aft into the berth, which

caused the stern to smack the quay wall. The

blow was hard enough to poke a one-foot-byone-foot hole in the hull in the ram room, about

three feet above the waterline. No stringers or

frame-structural members were damaged,

though. The pilot didn’t know the ship had hit the

quay wall until the CO told him.

The ship proceeded into the harbor and stood

off while the pilot ordered the merchant vessel to

clear berth five. When the merchant vessel had

moved, the ship moored without further incident.

Ship’s-force personnel then assessed the damage

and made temporary repairs.

After this mishap, the CO adopted some new

rules to prevent a recurrence:

● Before arriving at a berth, make a scale

drawing of the pier and obstructions. Using a toscale cutout of the ship, visualize how it will

look when moored safely and be able to show it

to pilots in foreign ports.

● During the ORM portion of the navigation

brief, discuss alternate plans for berthing the ship

in case the assigned berth isn’t available.

● Train the fantail and fo’c’s’le safety

personnel to report ranges by marking points on

the pier (e.g., “the stern is even with the red

bollard,” “the stern is even with the forklift”).

● Don’t try to fit a 596-foot ship into 580

feet of pier space.

Some information for this article appeared in

the Summer 1970 issue. The author’s e-mail

address is ktestorf@safecen.navy.mil.

Read the account that follows for details of a

ship’s run-in with a pier in a U.S. port.

ship control
14

Mooring

Dangers

Also Lurk

in U.S. Ports

By Ken Testorff,

Naval Safety Center

Moments later, the ship struck the pier on

the port side, 01 level. The ship was about

two degrees off the pier heading, with

forward motion of less than half a knot.

Witnesses on the bridge, aft missile deck,

and fantail reported seeing no signs of the

after tug trying to pull the ship away from

the pier.

Damage to the ship from this mishap

included three holes in the port side, 01

level, and one hole in the JP-5 refueling pit.

These holes ranged in size from 3.5 inches

by 3 inches to 6 inches by 14 inches. There

also was cosmetic damage to three spots on

the pier, where the boat boom dragged along

its edge. The cost of repairs to the ship was

estimated at $43,000.

As the CO noted in the report of this

mishap, mooring briefs need to include the

harbor pilot, as well as the bridge-watch

team. “A brief gives the pilot an understanding of how the CO and his bridge

personnel expect the tugs to work

with the ship during the approach,”

said the CO.

The author’s e-mail address

is ktestorf@safecen.navy.mil.

ship control

A Ticonderoga-class cruiser ended up with three holes in the port

side 01 level, and one hole in the JP-5 refueling pit from a mooring

mishap. The cost of repairs was estimated at $43,000,

A ship, with a pilot embarked and

 tugs made up forward and aft,

 planned to moor port side to a naval

station pier. Winds were blowing at 21 knots

onto the pier.

As the ship approached at three knots, its

stern quickly started setting down onto the

pier. The conning officer expected a collision,

so he ordered, “Hard left rudder,” when the

pier was about 30 feet off the port bow.

This action slowed the ship and allowed

the CO and conning officer enough

time to ask the pilot whether the tugs

were pulling on the ship as ordered. The CO ended this discussion by again directing the pilot to

have the aft tug pull back on the

ship’s stern.
January-March 1999

15

By Ken Testorff,

Naval Safety Center

Then came the moment of truth, when the TA

was ordered deployed to a specific length. The

system automatically stopped about 800 feet short

of its expected stopping point. This time, the chain

of command was informed, but no one questioned

the indications (which were correct), nor did

anyone challenge the validity of the PMS checks

done on the sensors. Instead, they chose to rely on

the opinion of the LPO, who was wrong.

When the operation ended and crewmen

retrieved the array, the system went to a negative

value, which should have told everyone that more

cable was out than they thought. Much of the array

was still out of the tube when the array supervisor

stopped retrieval, and the submarine surfaced and

headed to port. As part of the standard procedures

for entering port, backing bells were used to check

propulsion. (Because the array doesn’t float, it

wouldn’t be visible on the surface.)

No one gave this situation another thought until

the next underway period when there were indications of a failed towed array. An in-port inspection

showed half the array wrapped around the screw,

with the rest in the tube—flooded and shorted.

Last but not least comes this report of a

submarine’s crew that was preparing for a selectedrestricted availability (SRA). The crew had arranged to have the TB-23 towed array removed. To

offload it, divers first had to tie a line to the end so

personnel on a support barge could withdraw it.

Operators prepared for this event by deploying

about six feet of the array beyond the bellmouth of

the array tube so divers could tie it off the next day.

The only place this action was documented was in

the operator’s log for the towed-array-handling

system.

submarine systems

avey Jones’ treasures are growing, and so

are COs’ headaches, compliments of some

submarine operations gone wrong. In

recent months, three ships have reported

losses (or failures) of their million-dollar towed

arrays (TAs).

In one case, a submarine’s crew was holding

engineering drills as part of their preparations for

an operational reactor safeguards exam (ORSE).

These elements for a mishap were in place:

● There was no one to supervise excessive

backing bells or to ensure control surfaces (e.g.,

rudder and stern planes) were not in auto.

● The drill briefing didn’t discuss how to

manage the risk of gaining sternway while towing

an array.

When the SSBN started backing, the control

surfaces didn’t respond quickly enough. As a

result, the sub cocked at such an angle that the

array became fouled in the screw. Voila! The screw

cut the cable, and the array sank.

In another incident, a submarine crew’s problems started with improper and incomplete PMS

checks. Compounding the situation was a risky

attitude about non-qualified Sailors operating the

towed-array handling system. As a result, one of

these Sailors pushed the “deploy” button on the

control-indicator unit (CIU) for the TB-23 thin-line

array while in control. He thought the unit was deenergized.

Later, a sonar technician found the CIU energized (with illumination turned down) and an

indicated array scope of about 750 feet. He told his

chief, but the chief ignored him because he believed a bad array-position sensor was making the

equipment malfunction. The chief also didn’t pass

the word up the chain of command.
16

After inspecting the submarine’s underwater

hull the next day, the divers tied one end of a line

to the array and the other end to a cleat on the pier.

Unfortunately, no one documented this action in

any report or log. There also was no discussion

about the array being bumped out during watch

turnover that day. This problem-in-the-making was

compounded by the fact the ship’s duty officer

didn’t know the array had been tied off with a line

secured to the pier. The end of the array was

underwater, and the line wasn’t apparent to an

observer on the ship or pier.

Two weeks later, tugs came alongside to breast

out the submarine and move it 50 feet aft to support a weapons offload. Personnel involved in this

shift didn’t know or see that the TB-23 still was

tied to the pier. As a result, no one realized the

array stretched until it broke in half at the

bellmouth. This problem came to light a couple

weeks later, when Sailors moved the line from the

cleat to the barge in preparation to offload the

array. Only a six-foot section of the array was

attached to the line.

Here are some things you can do to avoid

similar problems:

● When teaching Sailors how to operate and

handle the TAs used aboard submarines, include

questions based on realistic situations (e.g.,

“You’re at sea, deploying the array, when you

receive these indications...”).

● Make sure the entire chain of command and

all duty personnel understand their accountability

submarine systems

When backing, submarine drivers

need to ask themselves, “Do we

know where our towed array is?”

Navy photo by PH2 Jeffery S. Viano

and responsibility for the status of an array. Consider discussing array status as part of your ship’s

conditions during watch turnover in port (for

example, make it a line item on a checklist).

● Periodically make sure your ship is following type-commander guidance on TA operation,

and compare that guidance to drill guides. These

efforts will ensure adequate monitors are stationed

to protect against big-dollar damages. It’s not

enough just to have a copy of the rules in the

OOD’s notebook and assume that everybody

knows them.

● Avoid cavalier attitudes about unqualified

personnel operating equipment if you don’t want to

injure shipmates and damage expensive gear. The

submarine force’s long-standing policy on controlling personnel in a qualifying status hasn’t

changed. They shouldn’t touch or operate equipment without the supervision of a qualified shipmate.

As you’ll learn from an article in the JulySeptember 1999 issue, surface ships also have

problems with towed arrays.

You can reach the author at e-mail:

ktestorf@safecen.navy.mil. LCdr. Lance Zahm,

director of submarine systems in the Afloat Safety

Programs Directorate, provided the technical

assistance for this article. You can reach him at email: lzahm@safecen.navy.mil.
January-March 1999

17

I

t was just another calm Sunday at sea as the

 amphibious ready group steamed toward

 the coast of Somalia. Our mission was to

participate in Operation United Shield, which

involved helping United Nations forces withdraw

from that war-torn country. I was the on-call boat

officer, but, because there weren’t many flight ops

scheduled, I had retired to the wardroom with

plans to watch a John Wayne flick.

At 1117, the boatswain’s mate of the watch

announced over the 1MC, “Now man the ready

lifeboat, now man the ready lifeboat!” I knew by

the tone in the announcer’s voice that this emergency was real. As it turned out, a helo had crashed

immediately after liftoff, and we had to rescue the

crew.

Although the wardroom on my ship, an LHD,

is two decks up and a couple hundred feet forward

of the slew-arm davit, I made it to the davit in less

than 30 seconds. You’d be surprised how

quickly people will get out of your

way when you’re

rushing toward them

yelling, “Boat crew, move!”

Members of the boat-and-davit crew were on

station and dressed out in less than 45 seconds. The

armorer, meanwhile, took about a minute to arrive,

but that was long enough for me to don my kapok

life jacket. In three minutes, the boat was to the rail

and ready for loading, and we were roaring away

to recover the personnel in six minutes. We had

rescued the first person in six-and-a-half minutes—

well before the alert-10 helo launched.

Why did this operation run so smoothly?

Training. Before deployment, I was the 2nd division officer, which made me responsible for the

ship’s small boats. I also was responsible for

training the lifeboat crew. With help from my BM1

and khaki in deck department, I set up a comprehensive training program. An integral part of it

was a training folder.

This folder contained the training schedule and

qualification sheets for everybody on the team and

their backups. Another section showed every manoverboard drill we had done, how long it had taken

us to recover Oscar, and comments about any

problems we’d had. After each recovery, team

members got together on station for a self-critique

session. We discussed anything that went wrong

and praised those who had done a good job. The

training team also debriefed with the CO and the

bridge-watch team.

I used most of the session after our real-life

recovery to pat everybody on the back. After all,

we had beaten our best training time by two-and-ahalf minutes, which shows what a little adrenaline

can do. More importantly, we had the four aviators

safely aboard in the shortest time possible.

The author’s e-mail address is pberthel@

safecen.navy.mil.

The Day Oscar

Became Real

A ship’s SAR swimmer

pulls the simulated

survivor known as

Oscar from the water

during a manNavy photo by PH3 Aaron Herr

overboard drill.

By Lt. Paul Berthelotte,

Naval Safety Center

deck seamanship
By EMC(SW) Carl Henry,

Naval Safety Center

ignored for speed. Otherwise, you end up with the

kind of statistics we accumulated from FY96

through FY98: an average of a shock a day. Most of

these shocks could have been avoided with better

training and supervision and a little risk management.

It’s not surprising that so many people are

getting shocked when you consider the electrical

problems safety surveyors uncover. For example,

we found an unattended, unsupervised, unprotected IC-switchboard section with exposed

wiring. This switchboard still was energized!

In another case, we found exposed, energized

wiring under a food warmer on a serving line. The

warmer had no bottom cover, and neither the

galley-watch captain nor the ship’s senior

electrician’s mate had trained their people to

inspect the warmer or repair the problem.

A third example involved an AQB-101 breaker

that was being used as the disconnect switch for a

As I review the electrical-mishap reports

 that come across my desk daily, I often

 wonder, “Does anyone have a clue why we

have so many of these reports?”

In most cases, the reports explain what happened but not why it happened. I also learn

whether the victim has been through annual

electrical-safety training as required. Finally, I learn

that the victim is giving electrical-safety training to

shipmates.

Here’s what I’d really like to know:

● Was the victim working on energized equipment? If so, did he have the CO’s permission?

● Did the victim assess the risks of his maintenance task before starting?

● Was the testing equipment tested?

● Was a safety observer standing by to assist?

As I wrote in the April-June 1998 issue of Ships’

Safety Bulletin, tagouts need to be done, ORM

needs to be in place, and hazards cannot be
ship’s boat davit. A safety observer had his hand

inside the metal box actuating the breaker. Incidentally, it was raining when we stopped this event.

In closing, let me leave you with this account.

A PO3 was doing maintenance checks on a radar.

While perched on the 106-foot platform, the

technician received a mild electrical shock. Why?

Because he failed to re-check all terminal boards

and wires for voltage after shifting the antenna

from “standby” to “off,” as outlined in the NSTM.

This technician was OK, but what if he had

suffered a serious—perhaps heart-stopping—

shock? How long would it have taken shipmates to

reach him? How long would it have taken them to

remove him from the mast? What if he had fallen?

There would have been more injuries, or he could

have died from the fall. How long would it have

taken them to transport him to the nearest

medical facility?

To everyone in the fleet who works with

electricity and electronics, I have an urgent message: Think about the risks involved with a job,

instead of just finishing it as quickly as possible. If

you ignore enough risks, sooner or later one of

them will send you to medical—or the mortuary.

Reference: NSTM, Chapter 300, Electric

Plant General

The author’s e-mail address is chenry@safecen.

navy.mil.

To avoid electrical shocks, make sure danger

tags (like the one these Sailors are checking)

are hung, ORM is in place, and hazards aren’t

ignored for the sake of speed.

On one ship, safety surveyors found this unattended, unsupervised, unprotected IC cabinet,

with exposed 450-VAC wiring–and no tagout.
20

By Cdr. Kevin Nicholas,

Naval Safety Center

A brakeman lowers

a ship’s anchor.

Navy photo by PH1 Michael D.P. Flynn

deck seamanship

As a ship departs the harbor, crewmen

 start securing from the sea-and-anchor

 detail. The fo’c’s’le detail has disconnected the

riding stopper and engaged the wildcat to house the

anchor in the hawsepipe. Meanwhile, a windlass-machinery operator sees the locking pin is partly backed out on

the wildcat-engagement lever. Without telling the topside

personnel, he tries to reseat the pin. He mistakenly disengages the wildcat, allowing the anchor to run free and

damage the sonar dome.

A ship approaches its designated anchorage in 187 feet

of water. The CO has two shots of anchor chain walked

out, achieves sternway on the ship, and orders the anchor

let go. With a cloud of dust rising from the anchor as it

runs out, the brakeman doesn’t see an order to set the

brake. This problem, combined with the depth of the

water, causes the anchor to run out of control. When

crewmen see the yellow shot appear, they clear the

fo’c’s’le. The red shot soon shows, and the anchor is lost.

A ship is completing its transit of a traffic-separation

scheme at 18 knots as crewmen on the fo’c’s’le secure the

anchor for sea. Thinking the wildcat is engaged, they

release the stopper on the anchor. Sixty feet of chain run

out before a quick-acting brakeman stops it. Later, divers

find damage to the sonar dome. Miscommunication with

the anchor-windlass room and a failure to test the wildcat

contributed to this problem.

With their ship operating independently in deep water,

crewmen decide to lower the anchor and repaint all the

markings. They walk out the anchor and eight shots of

chain so they can paint the red shot first. However, they

don’t check the rating of the anchor windlass before

starting this event. Too late, they learn that the windlass is

not rated to lift the dead weight of the anchor and all its
January-March 1999

21

chain. They spend eight hours trying to retrieve the anchor

but finally have to let it slip into the sea.

These four mishaps are just a few of the ones in which

ground tackle was lost that ships have reported to the Naval

Safety Center since June 1, 1993.

deck seamanship

Checklist for Maintaining

Anchor Chains

Here are procedures you should follow during

maintenance:

Inspect the chain, detachable links, and bending shackles

when weighing anchor. As outlined in the NSTM, tap each

link with a hammer and listen for links that don’t ring true.

Look for the smallest cracks because they can be deceptive.

Some cracks appear tiny on the surface but spread out inside

the metal-like tree branches.

Look for bent, deformed or stretched pieces of ground

tackle. If you have any doubts about the strength of a fitting,

replace it. If no replacement is handy, shift the suspect part to

the bitter end of the chain until you get a replacement.

Disassemble and clean detachable links in the chain at

intervals prescribed in NSTM and PMS requirements. These

links are serialized and must be matched; pieces aren’t

interchangeable. If you’re going to take apart several detachable links, work on them one at a time, especially if the

numbers are hard to read.

Use the detachable link with the hairpin in the outboard

swivel shot because that part of the chain takes the most

beating. When disassembling the link, make sure you have

replacement locking wires. Clean all detachable links, then

“slush” them with a preservative and lubricant.

These tips should ensure that when the POIC (yellow hat)

hollers, “Anchor’s aweigh,” he doesn’t really mean,

“Anchor’s away.”

Reference: NSTM, Chapter 581, Anchoring

The author’s e-mail address is knichola@safecen. navy.mil.

Some information for this article came from an account in the

March-April 1992 Fathom by Lt. Dave Hand, USN(Ret.),

former head of the deck-seamanship branch, Afloat Safety

Programs Directorate, at the Naval Safety Center.

A deckhand tightens

the turnbuckle on a

chain-stopper.

(This Sailor’s pants legs

should be tucked in his

socks.)

Navy photo by PH2 Johnny Bivera
22

● No goggles worn on the fo’c’s’le. Don’t wait

until an anchor chain is whipping across the flash

plate and orders are flying to holler, “Wait just a

second; I have something in my eye.” Chains

throw off rust, barnacles and debris. Even freshly

painted chains throw off paint chips. Brake and

wildcat operators and everyone working the chain

forward of the operators must wear goggles and

other PPE, as required by the NavOSH Program

Manual for Forces Afloat.

● Using wrong terms. Standard commands and

reports, such as “Thirty fathoms on deck” or

“Anchor at short stay,” help boatswain’s mates and

deck officers understand each other. Events happen

quickly during anchoring operations. The brakeman must know immediately what the POIC

means. The phone talker must relay info quickly

and precisely.

● Ordering “Let go the anchor” before a ship is

backing. To drop and set an anchor correctly, the

navigator and conning officer must make sure the

ship is backing. The sternway lets deck hands pay

out chain smoothly and evenly. This action prevents damage to the ship’s stem. It also prevents

underwater projections from damaging the anchorchain assembly.

● Brake turned the wrong way. The brake

handle should have raised arrows on it to prevent

this mistake, particularly during night anchoring.

● Letting out the chain too fast. When dropping anchor anywhere, except in shallow water,

don’t let the chain run out of control. Use the

wildcat brake.

● Chain piled up on the bottom. This error

makes it hard to set an anchor. It also can foul and

damage the anchor.

Reference: OpNavInst 5100.19C (with

change 1)

deck seamanship

Common Anchoring Pitfalls

A BM2 signals a controlman to

stop the port anchor. She is

flanked by another BM2, acting

as a safety oberver for the

event.

Navy photo by USS Nimitz (CVN 68) photo lab

Here are some common errors that account for anchoring mishaps:
January-March 1999

23

Outfitting:

In 1993, ships were told to retain five percent (carriers retain

two percent) of their original allowance of kapoks for use in

operations in which the new Mk-5 could be damaged (e.g., welding). The existing allowance of kapoks for ships’ boats was

maintained.

Application:

Wear this life jacket during these events:

● handling lines, stores or other deck equipment during

underway replenishments

● towing operations

● small-boat operations during hoisting and lowering, as well

as during heavy weather

● topside working parties or watches

● working over the side

Status:

Kapoks remain available in the supply system, and there are

no plans to change the allowance quantities.

Confused by several changes to the NSTM and other published guidance, more and more Sailors are asking these questions.

Here is the latest information available on the four most common life

jackets used aboard ship:

By BM2(SW) Todd Williamon,

Naval Safety Center

Outfitting:

All ships were authorized an allowance of AIULPs as a replacement for the kapok. ComNavSeaSysCom distributed a follow-on

alteration, which added stabilizing straps to hold the bladder in place

when the jacket is inflated.

Application:

This life jacket can be used as an alternative to the kapok for all

operations, except when personnel are working over the side or

during hot-work. Personnel riding in aircraft or riding the brakes

while moving aircraft also should not wear the Mk-5 because of its

auto-inflation feature.

Status:

Because of problems with the auto-inflation device and other

design issues, the Navy is phasing out the Mk-5 in favor of an updated version of the Mk-1 flight-deck life preserver. Until this shift is

complete, you can get spare parts, but you can’t order new jackets to

replenish the current supply-system inventory.

Kapok

Life Jacket

Mk-5

Life Jacket

deck seamanship

Kapok: Vest-Type With Collar, Type 1

Mk-5: Auto-Inflatable Utility Life Preserver (AIULP)
24

Outfitting:

The original Mk-1 was specifically designed

for use on flight decks and only could be inflated

manually. In 1992, ComNavSeaSysCom authorized changing Mk-1s to an auto-inflatable configuration for use on all air-capable ships, starting

with aircraft carriers. Some platforms still use both

the manual- and auto-inflatable models.

Application:

The auto-inflatable version can be used as an

alternative to the kapok for all operations, except

when personnel are working over the side or they

are doing hot-work. Personnel riding in aircraft or

riding the brakes while moving aircraft should use

only the manual-inflatable version.

Status:

A non-explosive (chemically non-reactive)

version of the auto-inflation device is undergoing

fleet testing and should replace the current device,

which uses CO

2

. When ordering the Mk-1 life

preserver, you may receive one with the snap-type

or zipper-type front. Both designs have the same

stock number. Preservers with the snap-type fronts

will be issued until stocks are depleted.

Mk-1 Flight-Deck

Life Jacket

Outfitting:

This is the standard abandon-ship life preserver

found throughout the fleet. An orange version is

issued for surface-ship operations, and a gray

version is used for Marine Corps helicopter-assault

operations.

Application:

Wear this preserver for these events: ● general quarters ● abandon ship ● handling lines, stores or other deck equipment

during underway replenishment ● Marine Corps helicopter assaults ● riding in aircraft or riding the brakes while

moving aircraft

Status:

No changes are planned for this life preserver.

Flight-Deck Jacket: Mk-1 Vest-Type

Life Preserver

Abandon-Ship

Life Jacket

Inflatable Abandon-Ship Type With Pouch

deck seamanship
January-March 1999

25

1. Attach the whistle to the Mk-1 vest-type

life preserver and the AIULP with an 18-inch

lanyard. Attach the whistle to other life preservers with a 12-to-15-inch lanyard. Secure all

lanyards with a bowline.

2. Attach the sea-dye marker to the left (nonadjustable) chest strap.

3. See the AIULP technical manual (SS710-

AB-MMO-010) for a description of its distress

marker light.

4. Attach the sea-dye marker to the life

preserver or the life-preserver belt with a 48-

inch lanyard tied with a bowline.

5. This life preserver has a mercury-strobetype, SDU-5E, distress-marker light.

6. Attach the sea-dye marker to the Mk-1

vest-type preserver only if the vest has a pouch

to stow it in.

Type of Life Reflective Whistle Distress Sea-Dye Buddy

Preserver Tape (See Note 1) Marker Light Marker Line

Vest-Type With Yes Yes Yes Yes No

 Collar, Type 1 (See Note 2)

 (Kapok)

Mk-5, AIULP Yes Yes Yes Yes Yes

(See Note 3) (See Note 4)

Mk-1 Flight-Deck Yes Yes Yes Yes No

 Vest (See Note 5) (See Notes 4 & 6)

Abandon-Ship Type Yes Yes Yes Yes Yes

 Pouch (See Note 4) (See Note 7)

deck seamanship

For the past six months, we’ve been working hard to redesign and improve

our web site: www.safecen.navy.mil. The new site – ten times larger, easier to

navigate, and better looking – goes on line Friday, Jan. 29. What are some of the

new features? For openers, you’ll find a download page containing all items

from the bulletin-board system, as well as copies of the magazines and other

Naval Safety Center publications. There also will be an FTP site to improve the

time it takes to download files. All this without even a password required – it

doesn’t get much better.

Accessories on Life Preservers

Notes:

7. Tie a 48-inch toggle (buddy) line to the

life-preserver belt with a bowline knot if the

manufacturer does not supply a suitable toggle

line.

Now that we’ve answered your questions about

the what, when and where of the common life

preservers, make sure you use yours. Too many

people don’t want anything to do with PPE until

it’s too late.

Reference: NSTM, Chapter 077, Personnel

Protective Equipment

The author’s e-mail address is twilliam@safecen.

navy.mil. All Sailors in the accompanying photos

were assigned to USS Carr (FFG 52) when they

were taken. Photos are of FC3 Paul Stevens (page

23), EW2 Robert Mixon (page 24, top) and SN

Brad Haynik (page 24, bottom).
26

Is Your Ship Fused for

“Overfusing is a fleetwide problem

 —an issue that we, InSurv, the

 Propulsion Examining Board, and the

Afloat Training Group address every time we’re

aboard ship.” That’s how a senior surveyor at the

Naval Safety Center describes a major shipboard

hazard: using fuses that have too high an amperage rating, which don’t protect equipment and

distribution panels.

The most commonly overfused circuits are

those supplying power to personal computers,

TVs, VCRs, mess refrigerators, and entertainment-system components. Some equipment,

such as high-speed buffers and refrigerators,

draw a lot of current when you first turn them

on. Accordingly, only those buffers that operate

on a 15-amp fuse without overloading a circuit

are approved for shipboard use. Authorized

refrigerators are those purchased through the

supply system and hard-wired to the ship’s

electrical system.

Equipment upgrades and changes are other

major areas of concern aboard ship. For example, most people keep installing more equipment for testing and evaluating without considering whether the existing electrical circuits will

handle it. Even if they realize they need more

By GSCM(SW) Richard Eckenroth,

Staff, ComNavSeaSysCom

engineering systems

Navy photos by PH2 Matthew J. Thomas

electrical power, they usually don’t make the

necessary changes to handle the increased requirement.

The next time you deliberately overfuse a

circuit aboard ship, remember what happens at

home if you try to hook too many items into one

multi-plug extension cord. You may not have any

Electrician’s mates

looking for overfused conditions

aboard ship should

pay particular

attention to the

circuits supplying

power to such

equipment as vending

machines...
January-March 1999

27engineering systems

Follow the guidelines in the NSTM, which

says, “Always replace fuses with fuses of the

required voltage and amp capacity.” Use ship’s

wiring diagrams, General Specifications for

Overhaul of Surface Ships, MilSpec (Fuses:

Instrument, Power and Telephone), and Mil-Std

(Fuses, Fuseholders and Associated Hardware,

Selection and Use of) for specifics. Never

overfuse a circuit deliberately, even while you’re

investigating the problem.

Set up qualified teams who know the ship’s

electrical distribution and can help identify

overfused circuits. Have them pay particular

attention to entertainment equipment, buffers,

personal computers, copiers, and vending machines. Also have them inspect all the receptacle

panels and fix overfusing problems. Then they

should mark each panel, showing it is fused

properly.

The people who designed and built your ship

expected a certain amount of increase in electrical

equipment. However, someone must control that

increase. For example, when a new copying

machine arrives, check its load rating. Alone, it

may not exceed the total rating of a branch

circuit. Combined with everything else in your

office, though, it may be enough to open a circuit

breaker or blow a fuse.

As shipmates bring more personal equipment aboard ship or they upgrade current equipment, they place larger load demands on the

ship’s circuits. The amount of electrical power

available, however, remains fixed. More distribution panels and isolated-receptacle fuse panels

can help this problem.

Some classes of ships install larger generators to meet the increasing load requirements.

...and copiers, as well as

entertainment equipment,

buffers and personal

computers.

problem using your VCR and TV to watch your

favorite movie while you iron. But when your son

or daughter plugs in a hair dryer, the circuit breaker

in the power panel probably trips or a fuse blows,

right?

After losing power for the third time in two

weeks, you decide to use a higher-amperage fuse or

circuit breaker—one that exceeds the city

and state building and electrical code. “I

didn’t exceed the rating of the replacement

circuit breaker or fuse,” you think, “so I’m OK.”

You’re wrong, though.

The replacement circuit breaker or fuse may

not blow, but it causes another problem: extra

strain on your home’s wiring and the extension

cord. As a result, the insulation on the wiring or

extension cord can get so hot it ignites, setting your

home on fire.

The same thing can happen aboard ship. The

next time your supervisor tells you to replace a

fuse, stop and ask yourself, “Why did that fuse

blow? Could it be I have too many appliances or

pieces of equipment on the same circuit?” Each

power panel has fuses installed to handle several

individual circuits. How many of them did you

overfuse? Will the fuse you inserted cause a Class

C fire or make all the computer screens go blank?

You can do several things to prevent overfusing. When a fuse blows or a breaker opens,

check the cause. See if you overloaded the circuit,

then check the listed fuse rating against the installed fuse.

Fires and Brownouts?
28

Every time I read a Navy safety publication, I

seem to see another article about overfused circuits. Although overfusing is a concern, it’s not the

only or worst fuse-box problem. Potentially more

serious hazards include loose connections,

grounded circuits, frayed wiring, and tools adrift.

Because of the increased heat caused by loose

connections, they are fire hazards.

PMS MIPs require annual inspection and

maintenance of fuse boxes. Some ships, however

don’t have this PMS coverage, or their equipment

guide lists are inaccurate. Consequently, personnel

don’t regularly inspect fuse boxes, and problems

go undetected.

I recommend the following:

● Ensure PMS coverage is provided and equipment guide lists are accurate.

● Train maintenance personnel to recognize and

correct fuse-box problems.

● Install tamper-proof seals after completing

fuse-box maintenance to increase personnel

accountability and decrease unauthorized entry.

Commands that tried this idea reported a high

success rate, and we found significantly fewer

discrepancies during inspections.

When electrician’s mates open a fuse box for

maintenance, why not have them do a complete

inspection? It only takes a few extra minutes.

At the time the author wrote this article, he

was assigned to USS Mount Whitney (LCC 20).

References: PMS MIPs EL5/156-69,

3240/2-69, 3301/3-86

By LCdr. Dale J. Morse,

Staff, CinCLantFlt PEB

A Naval Safety Center surveyor

checks a ship’s fuse panel as a

crewman observes. Overfusing, loose

connections, grounded circuits, and

frayed wiring are some of the

common electrical problems found

during surveys.

Fuse Boxes:

The Rest of

the Story

engineering systems

Whatever you do, make sure the circuit has the right

fuse before you use any equipment. Sometimes,

you’ll have to upgrade a power panel to handle the

larger current load.

A recent issue of a newsletter published by the

Pacific Fleet PEB contained an item about how the

crew of one ship overcame the problem of

overfusing. Here are the key ingredients to that

success story:

Make a master list of all fuse boxes on the

ship, then use the list to inspect all boxes. Look at

amperages and voltage ratings, and verify that fuses

requiring silver-plated ferrules have them. Also

check the cleanliness of the fuse box, and make sure

the installed label plates are correct.

Train the electrician’s mates to inspect fuse

boxes any time they open one to remove or replace

fuses (e.g., removing fuses as part of a system tagout).

When they install fuses, it’s a good practice to have

them turn the fuses so the amperage ratings are

visible. This effort makes it easier to do spot checks.

Train all supervisors to identify overfusing. If

the fuses are installed with the amperage ratings

visible, supervisors can easily find fusing discrepancies during zone inspections.

References: NSTM, Chapter 300, paragraph

2.29; NavSea S9AAO-AB-GOS-010/GSO;

MilSpec Mil-F-15160F; Mil-Std-1360
January-March 1999

29

This article concludes our four-part series

designed to help ships’ crews prepare for an industrial environment. Check previous issues for the rest

of this series, which features an updated collection

of articles previously published in Fathom.—Ed.

Achieving the last five percent of any task requires as

much effort as the first 95 percent. Before you decide that

95 percent is good enough, remember what the stakes are

and what you’re betting on.

How do you judge a successful overhaul? In our case,

we spent six months in a shipyard with no major mishaps,

injuries or equipment damage. Now, I didn’t say we were

hazard- or mishap-free, but that was our goal. Trying to

prevent all mishaps may seem unreasonable, but don’t

write off this goal as taking too much effort. Your extra

effort could neutralize a serious hazard and perhaps save a

life.

Consider the lessons learned from some of the mishaps

we had during our overhaul. A shipyard worker was

welding a bulkhead in a fuel tank. On the other side of the

bulkhead was another fuel tank. Both tanks were certified

gas-free by the shipyard gas-free engineer, but the other

tank wasn’t certified “safe for hot-work.” Two pipefitters

were working in the second tank when residual fuel in it

ignited. The pipefitters quickly extinguished the fire and

prevented any injuries or damage. Our investigation

revealed that the shipyard’s fire-watch personnel used

improper procedures. Fire watches must be able to see

both sides of a bulkhead. A second fire watch is necessary

when the first one can’t see both sides of a bulkhead.

These watches must check for and remove all fire hazards

around the hot-work area on both sides of the bulkhead.

They also should establish some means of communication

to report a hazardous condition or to stop all hot-work.

Before another mishap, ship’s-force personnel covered

a deck with paper as part of the preparations for painting a

passageway. Three decks above, a shipyard worker was

welding when a spark fell the entire distance—despite

Overhaul:

By Ltjg. David Murvihill

Recollections of an

Assistant Safety Officer

industrial hygiene & navosh

Recollections of an

Assistant Safety Officer
30

intervening ladders—and ignited some wet

paint on the paper. There was a lot of smoke

but no damage. The fire didn’t spread because the paper was fire-resistant. Again, the

shipyard’s fire watch didn’t check carefully

for hazards, install a protective barrier (in

this case, a welder’s cloth), or close the

hatch. He also didn’t post hot-work-warning

signs. The ship’s-force painters shared the

blame for the fire because they didn’t post

the required warning signs, saying “No

Smoking—No Hot-Work.” Before entering a

shipyard, the crew should cover equipment to

protect it. Fire-resistant paper and herculite

will not burn without another source of fuel,

so use them instead of flammable plastics to

cover your gear.

One day, fuel from a leaking line filled a

void. The sounding and security watch found

it early, but ship’s-force personnel couldn’t

isolate the leak until the fuel tank was

pumped out. A hydrostatic test of the fuel

system would have prevented this mishap.

One other time, a plumb bob punched a

hole through the hull at the bottom of a

sounding tube. The water level did not get

above the bilges, so there wasn’t any damage. It took years of corrosion and dropping

plumb bobs to penetrate the striking plate

and hull. While you’re in drydock is a good

time to check and repair your sounding tubes

and striking plates.

Here are some suggestions that will help

you when your ship is in overhaul:

Shipboard

Make sure the quarterdeck watch wears a

hard hat. A bolt falling from a crane missed

one of our OODs by less than a foot.

Make sure the quarterdeck watch has the

telephone numbers for the fire department,

industrial hygiene & navosh

Whether overhauling a new ship or an old

one – in this case, the 44-gun sail frigate

USS Constiitution – it takes a lot of effort to

stay mishap-free. Don’t write off this goal

as unreasonable, because your extra

dedication could save a life.

Navy photo by Cdr. John C. Roach, USNR
January-March 1999

31

unpleasant (if not uninhabitable), and the crew

works harder. Recreation becomes more

important because the crew no longer can do

the things they normally do after working

hours.

Upon arrival at the shipyard, ask for information about the areas with a high crime rate.

Check with local Navy facilities for a list of

off-limits areas. Our lack of familiarity with the

unsavory section of an adjacent town resulted

in several injuries to crewmen.

Alcohol-related crashes, involving both

motor vehicles and pedestrians, also probably

will rise. Increased awareness and education

and alternative forms of transportation (such as

welfare and recreation vans) will help the

situation. Other forms of entertainment (e.g.,

picnics and tours) also will help keep people

out of bars.

Automobile crashes increase as crew

members drive home or visit surrounding areas.

A seven-hour trip back to home port after a

long day of work creates unsafe driving conditions. We started knocking off at 1730 on

weekdays and 1130 on Fridays so our people

could drive during daylight hours. Education

on the hazards of nighttime driving also helps.

Athletic injuries increase. Providing protective equipment and educating everyone keeps

problems to a minimum.

If the CO regularly addresses safety and

sets the example himself, the rest of the crew is

apt to pick up on it. Our CO’s motto was this:

“Safety is a big part of the ship’s routine, but

safety issues have head-of-the-line privileges

for command attention.” Find and promote

activities that stir up your crew and keep them

interested.

References: OpNavInst 5100.19C (with

change 1), appendix B3-A; NSTM, Chapter

074, Vol. 3, Rev. 3, section 20

At the time Ltjg. Murvihill wrote this

article, he was assigned to the now-decommissioned USS Luce (DDG 38).

industrial hygiene & navosh

hazmat-recovery team, police, and ambulance.

It’s also important that they know what pier at

which the ship is berthed.

Exercise the in-port fire party in hazmatspill response and emergency-rescue procedures. The NavOSH Program Manual for

Forces Afloat provides detailed information on

hazmat-spill response. You can find guidance

on emergency-rescue procedures in the NSTM.

You will find that the shipyard’s safety

regulations are different from the Navy’s.

Their regulations comply with OSHA instructions, which may not be as strict as the

NavOSH Program Manual for Forces Afloat.

For example, OSHA instructions don’t require

chafing gear for leads and cords passing

through doorways and hatches. Instead, they

only require that the sheathing on the cable

remain intact. I found several leads and cords

chafed to the copper and immediately threw

them off the ship. Placing a hard rubber collar

or stopper around the leads or cords will keep a

door from shutting on them.

The supervisor of shipbuilding, conversion

and repair; the shipyard; or both will have a

pamphlet regarding safety in the shipyard; use

it to train your crew. Registered users can get a

copy of “Guide to Safety in Availability (Rev/

Sep 98)” from the Naval Safety Center bulletin

board at (757) 444-7927 (DSN 564). The

filename is “guideaval.exe” in file area “afloat

general.” This guide also soon will be available on the Naval Safety Center web site.

Shipyards have many flatbed trucks and

pickups with drivers who will offer rides to the

crew. Teach your people about the regulations

that prohibit accepting such offers.

Attend daily safety walkthroughs. If you

can’t go, send a ship’s representative. Your

attention will directly affect the attention the

shipyard pays on your ship.

Off Duty

If the shipyard is located away from your

home port, the number of off-duty mishaps

probably will increase. People are uprooted,

families are located elsewhere, the ship is
32

By Ken Testorff,

Naval Safety Center

Editorial:

R

 eturning from a re-

 laxing three days of

bass fishing, I was pleased to

find an envelope in my mailbox. The envelope contained

the return address of a Sailor—

specifically, the assistant safety

officer, a BM2—aboard USS Sacramento (AOE 1). “Great! An article

from the fleet!” I thought, as I anxiously ripped open the envelope.

I cherish every piece of mail I get.

Why? Because months pass, with

nothing but dust accumulating in my

mailbox—and that’s after nine years

of writing editorials, pleading for

articles from the fleet. It’s a real

lesson in humility to watch my

32
counterparts with Approach, Mech, Ashore, and

Ground Warrior open armfuls of mail every day.

But that’s another subject.

Some of my joy faded when I realized the

envelope held only a letter—no article. The BM2

immediately restored my full interest, though, with

this statement: “I have been privileged to receive

your publication.” He then noted that he uses much

of the information in Fathom for training and

combat readiness and that many articles are reprinted in the ship’s safety publication.

“That being said,” the BM2 continued, “I must

now comment on a problem that has left many of

my shipmates in turmoil: the back cover of your

January-March 1998 issue. In the picture, Sacramento [with hull number shaded, but not enough to

keep eagle-eyed Sailors from finding it] is steady

on Romeo Corpen, with a customer pulling up to

the pumps. Above the photo is the caption, ‘An

AOE Sailor dies after falling 35 feet from a pilot’s

ladder and landing headfirst in a motor whaleboat.’

...Though I can appreciate the fact that file photos

of AOEs in such remarkable shape as Sacramento

are hard to find, I hope your subscribers don’t

confuse the ship in the mishap with the ‘Golden

Bear.’ Let me assure you this devastating tragedy

did not occur aboard my ship, the fastest AOE in

the fleet.”

By now, I wasn’t smiling, because I’ve never

enjoyed writing corrections or apologies, and I

knew that’s what I would have to do. If I had any

doubts about my responsibilities, the BM2 helped

clear them up with his next paragraph.

“To ease the grief and embarrassment caused

by this horrible oversight,” he wrote, we had to

meet a long list of demands. These demands

included a letter of apology, seven back issues of

Fathom, a lifetime subscription to all Naval Safety

Center publications, up-to-date copies of all available Naval Safety Center software, any available

safety stickers, and five safety-training videos.

At this point, I was having flashbacks to my

days as a Navy chief. I couldn’t recall any young

Sailor ever having had the nerve of this BM2, but a

few had rankled me over the years, and let’s just

say I always had had the last word. After thinking

about the present situation for a moment, I decided

my best move was to let my lieutenant intervene.

His initial response, as well as that of the department head, however, was the same as mine. Neither could believe what they were reading. Finally,

though, the editor in chief offered the possibility

that the BM2 might be having a good laugh at our

expense. With this suggestion, the lieutenant called

Sacramento’s safety officer and found out the letter

indeed was a clever way to request safety material.

My hat’s off to ya, BM2. You pulled my chain

hard this time. For the record, I apologize for my

error in the Jan-Mar 1998 issue. I should have

ensured the hull number was removed from the

photo before we used it. I take full responsibility.

At the same time, let me congratulate you and your

shipmates on Sacramento’s proud history of

accomplishments:

● CNO Surface Ship Safety Award, Combat

Logistics (Large) Category, for 1993, 1994 and

1996

● Battle “E” winner for 1997.

You set an example others would do well to

follow. Incidentally, we couldn’t respond to all the

“demands” in your letter, but we put together a

package of the materials we had on hand. Keep up

the great work!

When the BM2 referenced in this editorial

wrote his letter, I doubt that he imagined it being

used as it was here. Perhaps he’ll respond like a

former CO of USS Stark, after I had offended him

by a caption I used with his ship. He answered a

similar apology with an article.

I welcome material for Fathom from everyone.

If the information pertains to shipboard hazards,

mishaps or near-mishaps, I probably can use it.

Don’t forget that photos always improve a submission. Send everything to: Fathom Editor (Code

714), Naval Safety Center, 375 A St., Norfolk, Va.

23511-4399. My e-mail address is ktestorf@

safecen.navy.mil. Call me at (757) 444-3520, Ext.

7251 (DSN 564).

33