Prose & Comments: Menantic sailor takes an underwater cruise

Back in October, my nephew, Scott, a sailor based in Bangor, Washington, called and asked if I would like to go on a “Tiger Cruise.” He is a “nuke” on the Nebraska, a Trident nuclear submarine. I immediately replied, “Tell me when and where.”

A Trident, referred to as a “boomer,” is over 600 feet in length and about 45 feet wide, with 24 missile silos. It is considered the first line of defense in deterring a strike against the U.S. There are about 150 sailors and officers on board and starting this year a woman or two. It will no longer be an all boys club.

I enjoy going out on any type of water craft and I have been on subs in museums. But just imagine going out on a working sub. Now imagine going out for several days, which is the essence of a Tiger Cruise. One gets to see and feel how the sailors and officers live on board what is basically a tube.

When a Trident deploys, it is for 90 days. Weeks can go by without anyone aboard hearing a word from home, or, for that matter, any news at all – just one of the many sacrifices that our sailors make in serving their country. Three sailors’ wives gave birth while they were deployed  — Scott’s wife gave birth to a healthy baby girl whom he was overjoyed to finally see for the first time when she was almost two months old.

I was really excited, especially since the Navy does not do many of these any more, and was really hoping that I wouldn’t be as claustrophobic as I was when I had an MRI.

In early December, I found out that I was going to be an alternate. I also had just hours to email a consent form and other paperwork to the ombudsman for the sub in order to go at all. Fortunately, I got the paperwork in on time and ended up number four on the waiting list.

The sub is a working environment. In the words of the captain, it is an “industrial environment.”

I had to be in Bangor on the 24th of December. My twin brother, Bill, Scott’s dad, was one of the chosen. I could only hope.

On the 23rd, we received an email that the “cruise” was delayed and no date was given as to when it would happen. Imagine how the spouses and families felt; their loved ones were gone for 90 days and no reason was given as to why or when they would be back. Bill and I flew up to Bangor anyway. We both wanted to see Scott’s family (including the new baby) in any event.

Finally, on the 31st, New Year’s Eve, we were told to be at a waiting area the following morning. The chosen were going for sure. I hoped for the best and I lucked out — one person did not show up and I was allowed to go.

What a way to bring in the New Year, as a cruiser on a Trident!

It was truly awesome. We got to spend the entire time with Scott. He was on deck when the tender brought us to the sub, and he guided us through the parts of the sub that we were allowed to see. The engine room was off limits.

Being in good physical shape helps because we had to climb up and down metal rungs to get on and off the sub, a good 30 feet. As it turned out, I had no problem with claustrophobia — this boat is big, with plenty of room. The sailors sleep between the missiles. The Captain and XO have their own staterooms. The food is pretty good and the solidarity among the crew is very tight.

On the way into the harbor, the sub is attended by six heavily armed Coast Guard boats. At this point, most of the crew gets what is called “channel fever.” Understandably, they can’t wait to see their loved ones and most can’t sleep the last night out.

To get into the secure harbor where the sub berths, a bridge has to move. On this day, the bridge mechanic decided to go home early, and the sub with its six tenders and all its crew had to wait an additional hour while someone who could open the bridge was located. I didn’t mind but I’m sure the crew did, even though as true professionals they didn’t voice their disappointment.

I was actually on the “sail,” which is the part of the sub that sticks up on the deck, and talking with the captain at the time. I could see the snow-peaked mountains in the distance as we sailed into the sunset. Definitely a “cruise” to remember.

Many thanks to the crew of the Nebraska for a memorable adventure, and, of course, for their service to our country. The Nebraska had just been notified that they had won the “E award,” the top award for submarines in the Pacific.