i found happiness in the firerooms even before i became CHENG* on the Hollister. As a midshipmen, my time in those two dark, white heat hot, sweltering caves below the main deck was an escape to earlier times in the heart of a magical, Rube Goldberg dream of a power plant.

During my 1963 third class middie deployment* i spent almost three weeks on the 04-08 and 16-20 watches in the after fireroom. It was an education all by itself.

As CHENG, i marveled at the work of the BTs and found it thrilling to be in fireroom on a full-power run with those boilers seeming to be a pounding heart pumping out the steam to drive the turbines and shafts to their maximum.

On one of the two full-power runs that were made during my tour, Hollister was running in excess of 35 knots and still was increasing when the run was cut short in order to make another commitment. i think she would have gotten close to 40 knots if we hadn’t had to quit the run.

During a DESRON* 9 group underway period, the commodore created a 5-mile race of the ships. All of the ships, except Hollister had been converted from black oil, the old fuel for steam ships after coal to “Navy distillate,” a much clearer burning fuel. i once again was in the fireroom on the 1JV sound-powered phone system.* As we gathered speed and the two 600-pound boilers were again pulsing, i learned Hollister was nosing ahead. i climbed up the ladder to the main deck and walked out on the port side weather deck. Hollister was clearly head by two ship lengths as we reached the five-mile “finish line.”

(A lesson here. You can lose some advantages by worrying about environmental or other concerns rather than your mission to have the most effective battle platform.)

As noted, i was enchanted with firerooms in the old Navy.

◆◆◆

One of the blessings i had as CHENG was a BTCM* who didn’t leave during the great exodus when the ship went reserve. As i write, i am struggling with his name and will eventually remember. He was a wonder.

As the never-ending bunch of contractors poured onto the ship as we approached our overhaul, one group was to assess our forced draft blowers in the firerooms. The forced draft blowers forced the air into to boiler to complete the combustion of the fuel oil to heat the water to steam. The forced draft blowers were massive. Hollister had a total of eight, two for each boiler. The contractors would attached all of their high-faluting electronic marvels to the blowers, run the blowers up to their operating speed, check and record all of their readings, and create a report at ginormous expense to determine which of the forced draft blowers required an overhaul.

Before the contractors arrived, my BTCM had the forced draft blowers turned on to operating speeds. He then placed a nickel, standing on its edge, on each of the blowers in turn. If the nickel fell flat, the master chief assessed that blower required an overhaul. If the nickel remaied upright on its edge, the master chief pointed out, the blower did not require an overhaul.

The BTCM was 100% accurate. The expensive report agreed. But the BTCM’s method only cost a nickel if we lost a nickel in the bilges during the process.

◆◆◆

When the Hollister was in Pearl Harbor, we were tied to the quay wall on the base. There was an FF astern of us. A tanker came along side to transfer JP5, an aviation fuel, which we carried for fueling some pumps and in an emergency transfer to an aircraft.

As our auxiliary gang was connecting the fuel hose to our pipeline to the fuel tanks, the hose experienced a hole ( i think one of our machinist mates stepped on it). About 10-20 gallons spilled over the side.

i made the mistake of reporting the spill to the Command Duty Officer, who dutifully told the XO. The XO came out to the DASH* deck where the fuel transfer operation was back in progress. He was red faced, excited, and in distress. He immediately told me to throw fuel soaking pads over the side and execute a number of other procedures and reports to appropriate authorities. He was flying off the handle.

i finally quieted him down, convinced him the master chief and i had it under control. He returned to his stateroom. The master chief directed the fueling team to put the pads back in their stowage. He and i stood at the port side hand rail and watched the barely visible film of JP5 float on the tide aft of us to the FF.

You see, if anyone reported the spill, it would to appear it came from the FF. Hollister burned the old black oil fuel and that was floating to the surface all of the time as it was released from spills during the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor in 1944.

The BTCM mused, “I don’t know what the XO is all flustered about. If the spill, which doesn’t amount to anything here in Pearl, was reported, it would look bad. He, the CO, and you might get fired, but he and the CO would still get to retire. You wouldn’t make lieutenant commander and be kicked out of the Navy. If you weren’t sweating it — before the XO came on the scene, the BTCM and i had decided what to do — there is no reason he should.”

i learned a lot from that man.

NOTES:
* CHENG – Chief Engineer or Engineering Department Head on a Navy ship.
* BT – Boiler Tender, later termed Boiler Technician…i liked “tender” rather than “technician”
* third class middie deployment – third class midshipman, or NROTC midshipmen after their freshman year went on a two-month cruise on ships
* The midshipmen were in three sections while the BT’s* were in 4 sections. Consequently, the watches were not “dogged,” which meant the 16-20 watch was not split into two, two-hour dog watches. Ergo, the midshipmen did not rotate through the watches.
* DESRON: destroyer squadron normally consisting of five or six destroyers under the command of the destroyer commander or “commodore.”
*sound-powered phone system: a system of communication with headsets requiring no electricity. On Navy ships, the. “1JV” circuit was the primary engineering circuit for CHENG to communicate with the major parts of the steam plant (engine rooms, fire rooms, etc.
* BTCM: Boiler Tender Master Chief Petty Officer, an E-9, the highest pay level for enlisted personnel
* DASH: Drone Anti-Submarine Helicopter. These unmanned helicopters were designed to be flown out over suspected submarines and drop a pinging torpedo to find and destroy a submarine. The program, which had numerous failed exercises, most of which lost the expensive drone, was abandoned in the late 1960’s. The DASH deck on the 01 level aft, remained.

In the early spring of 1974, the Hollister had an inspection from the Commodore’s staff, Destroyer Squadron (DESRON) 9.

It was annual inspection involving all aspects of ship’s operation, maintenance, and administration. When completed, the inspection report, full of discrepancies, was handed to the ship and forwarded through the chain of command to our ultimate boss, Commander, Surface Forces, Pacific.

Hollister was required to correct all critical discrepancies immediately and report them to the chain of command. All other discrepancies were to be included in a following report, ninety days after the inspection, noting the corrective action taken and projected completion date.

Lieutenant Commander (LCDR) Kerry Kirk, our executive officer, was relentless in badgering the department heads to submit their discrepancy status reports. Kirk was responsible for putting them all together, editing the mess, and preparing it for the Commanding Officer’s signature. Then it would be sent to all of the ship’s superiors in the chain of command. The XO was driving us crazy. We all felt we had much more important matters to attend, for example, the upcoming six-month regular overhaul. But we all cobbled our parts together. LCDR Kirk spent untold late hours finalizing the thick document. It was signed by Commander (CDR) Phelps, and sent off.

At the noon mess, the captain, the exec, four department heads, the oncoming quarterdeck Officer of the Deck (OOD), Donnie Frahler, as i recall, and the next senior junior officer sat down at the wardroom table for the first sitting. As the meal ensued, CDR Phelps leaned back in his chair and related his tale:

You know, I remember when I was XO on the McKean, USS McKean (DD 784) when we had one of those discrepancy reports to submit.

I was busy and it was over a week late when I realized we had not submitted the report. I ordered the department heads to get their sections in ASAP. Of course, it took them nearly two weeks to get their parts to me. I did the editing and had to get a couple of changes from the department heads. By the time I finished, it was almost a month past the due date.

I started up to the CO’s cabin with the report for signature, I stopped and considered the consequences. If we submitted the report that late, our superiors were going to blast us for screwing, possibly worse than what the report would bring down on us.

So I went back to my stateroom, and put the report in my “pending” basket.

Six months later, when I was relieved to become the CO here, I took the report out and dumped into the to-be shred basket.

We never heard a peep about not submitting the report.

I learned my lesson. Reports to higher authority weren’t quite as crucial for the rest of my career.

Becoming CHENG on the USS Hollister (DD 788) gave me enough problems. i was responsible for running a tired engineering plant without any real engineering experience, on a tired ship, struggling to get to its regular overhaul (ROH). Losing one-third of my engineers due to being assigned as a reserve ship added to the difficulty.

Perhaps the biggest problem was not engineering, but all of this happening with the crisis of drugs in the Navy during my time on board, 1973-1975.

Looking back, it seems humorous. But it wasn’t humorous then. Here are some, but not all of the examples:

My chief Hull Technician (HT) was walking down the starboard side, main deck. one of his third class HTs was maintaining a hatch, doing some welding. The chief asked his sailor if he had a light so he could light his cigarette. The sailor raised his welding mask, reached into his pocket, and pulled out his lighter. Unfortunately for the sailor, his plastic bag fell out of his pocket onto the deck. It was filled with marijuana, weed. To Captain’s Mast he would go.

♦︎♦︎♦︎

Two firemen decided they would smoke a little grass while they had the duty. They cogitated about where they could enjoy their smokes. So, they climbed into a fan room, closed the hatch, and lit up. Unfortunately for the firemen, the fan in the fan room was providing ventilation for the main passageway. Soon, the unquestionable aroma of marijuana was permeating the main passageway. The duty master at arms began following the odor and opened the hatch to the fan room. To Captain’s Mast they would go.

♦︎♦︎♦︎

We were getting underway for ops in the SOCAL op areas. On the day we were getting underway, i came aboard at 0300 to be there for the BTs when they lit off the boilers. They informed me that someone had taken all of our sprayer plates (the plates sprayed the fuel oil into the boiler). My BT1s went to the other tin cans moored at the Long Island Naval Station and borrowed enough sprayer plates for us to meet our mission. The sprayer plates were never found. We ordered a new set, which arrived before our next underway period. We were pretty sure a sailor who knew enough about our boilers took them and threw them over the side. We were also pretty sure that sailor was high on drugs. We never found him either.

♦︎♦︎♦︎

Someone we never caught must have been pumped up on drugs. One night while in our home port, a sailor went up to the torpedo deck. On the bulkhead was a high pressure air connection. It was used to charge the torpedo tubes them into the water. The hatch to the HP air must have weighed several hundred pounds. This guy lifts it up and tosses it over the side. i remain amazed he could do that.

♦︎♦︎♦︎

i think the one that stunned me the most was when an Electronic Technician second class petty officer (ET2) went up to the bridge one night. He cut the wires and stole the bridge to bridge UHF radio, critical for communicating with other ships in piloting in close waters. He took it to a a pawn shop, and he pawned it for enough cash — a huge difference to what the gear actually cost — to buy some LSD, which i suspect he was on when he came up with the idea. He was caught and went to a special court martial, convicted and kicked out with a felony record.

♦︎♦︎♦︎

i never had possession or even a drink of alcohol on my ships. i have never used marijuana or other illegal drug. This was not so noble. If i had not been a Naval officer, i’m pretty sure i would have used drugs just as i used alcohol when not on my ships. But i just found it wrong to do something i had to enforce on sailors not to do. i am too old to make judgements about other’s decisions. This occurred a half-century ago. It’s history.

i think my tour as a chief engineer gave me a real understanding of what my primary focus had to be. My respect for those sailors whom i supported to do their jobs became clear. i believe dealing with those problems made me a better officer in the long run.

Time to stop the pontification and get on with sea stories.