Submarine Story

[Penny Tray]

The sad outcome of Titanic submersible saga reminded me of this previous post from a December 1918 newspaper: -

PICKED THE LOCK OF DAVY JONES - HOW BRITISH SUBMARINE CREW SAVED THEMSELVES FROM SURE DEATH

The passing of the Naval Censor has removed the veil of obscurity which lay over our Fleet for so long, and many thrilling incidents are being reported, revealing in unmistakable fashion that the morale and spirit of the British Fleet has in no wise deteriorated, and that the sons of Ulster maintain with the best traditions of Drake, Dampier and Nelson.

Isaac Gibson, who served his time as a mechanic in the Belfast spinning mill of Messrs. J. and T.M. Greeves, joined HM Navy in March 1902, as an engine-room artificer, serving in that capacity with the fleet in various parts of the world. On returning to home waters he volunteered for service in submarine craft, also for diving and salvage work, becoming expert and proficient in both these branches of the service. He was for a time diving instructor at his base, Devonport, where owing to his skill and daring he was the most expert exponent of the art. He held the record for deep diving, which was, however, subsequently beaten with improved diving gear.

On the outbreak of the war, he was stationed at Lamlash as chief engine-room artificer in charge of machinery and engines of Submarine A10, one of our earliest submarines on patrol duty in the Firth of Clyde. About this period he invented a device for use in submarines for cutting the craft free when entangled in enemy's nets; also an improved design for a boat for accompanying divers and various other tools and appliances which he found useful and labour-saving in the course of his practice. All of these were freely and unreservedly given to the naval authorities.

THE RAISING OF THE A10

In 1914, shortly after the outbreak of war, A10 was on one of her usual runs, when a defect developed which caused the tank to flood, and she sank to 32 fathoms of water. The pumps were quite useless at this depth, being designed for about the pressure due to half that head at the utmost.

Every expedient known to the service at the time was tried to clear the tanks and raise her, but she only responded by settling deeper in the ooze of the sea bottom. Nothing remained but to wait for death with the fortitude of men, for there was apparently not the remotest chance of being picked up or rescued from such a depth - 192 feet down - and each man disposed himself according to his taste, disposition, or religion, and as men will under such circumstances, talked little but thought much. Fortunately her machinery was in good order, and they had light and all were resigned to their fate. The sea water was percolating through the seams, showing that the poor little craft was feeling the effects of the terrible strain due to pressure at such unusual depth.

Chief Artificer Gibson had noted these grim indications, and decided the time was come to state a project he had been turning over in his mind, which gave a minute ray of hope. The whole party gathered round while he explained his proposal, which was to utilise the high pressure of the oxygen flask to clear the flooded tanks (their emergency bottle). He pointed out that the boat was leaking already and was unlikely to withstand the additional pressure necessary to overcome the impressing sea. The tanks were not designed for such treatment. If they used their oxygen in the usual way it would keep them alive a number of hours more but they would ultimately come to the same pass, with absolutely no chance of remedy, and weakened by suspense and despair, would be unable to face the end with the equanimity they now displayed.

If, on the other hand, as he proposed, the high pressure of the oxygen was turned into the tanks, either those tanks would burst inwards, drowning them instantly, or, as he hoped, it would expel the sea, and their boat would be able to rise and make for port on the surface. A brave man can die but once, while a coward dies by anticipation in every untoward situation. The crew were unanimous: it was decided to put the project into effect, and leave the issue in the hands of God.

COMMENDED TO GOD

The necessary preparations were soon made, for all worked hard, making the connections. When all was ready the commander gathered the men in a circle, all sectional differences forgotten in their common jeopardy, and commended them all to God in this moment of supreme test. He read the prayers for the dying from the service manual, gave a few moments for reflection, then in solemn tones he read the burial service, an act of weird and solemn significance, they gave the order to try, under God, how the invention would act.

Never, probably in all the history of mankind was an invention thought out, made, applied and tested under such thrilling circumstances and with such a stake. To say that the moment was tense is to play with the meaning of words. These men had just heard their own burial service read, and the moment was come to put into operation a hitherto unheard of and undreamt of method of bringing them into contact with their fellow-men again of the world above. They had no misconception as to their chances, nor were buoyed up with any false hope.

They had deliberately chosen between a possible immediate death with a slender chance of escape, before a lingering death with none; and as only British seamen can, they stood calmly round while Chief Artificer Gibson applied his invention of necessity. As unmoved as any of the group, he opened the valve controlling the connection, and watched his gauges and indicators; no result. Again and again, slightly, until the pressure was rising in the tanks, which were bulging inwards. Bursting seemed imminent. Would the tanks stand the full pressure? Was there volume enough of oxygen to drive them clear if they did hold? With another touch on the valve there was a sense of change impending. What was about to happen? Was it the end? Noting all these ominous and dread signs, he resolutely opened out still more: the finger of the gauge shivered. 'Tis no reflection of the brave men around to say that great beads of perspiration stood on their foreheads: but what manner of man is he who stands and watches his gauges and indicators unmoved at such a moment?

A THRILLING MOMENT

A false move, even a hasty movement and all is lost, and he knows it. Of all the men there entombed he alone knows and appreciates the slender margin upon which he is working, and his mind is made up. Yet his hand shakes not, nor does his attention wander. Another touch of the wheel, an answering shiver of the guage; full pressure is opened out now; the indicators show distinct rising; the boat is righting herself on her keel. She breaks out of the ooze, slowly at first but gathering speed as she ascends, rises like a flash through the waters, and out through like a giant porpoise falling back on the waves on an even keel. A few curt commands, and the conning tower was opened.

The crew were uproarious, and inhaled great gulps of fresh air they had thought never to breathe again. Then to quarters, and the boat put in trim for the run home on the surface, in a short time arriving at the pier at Ardrossan, as hearty as if they had not a short hour ago cheated death by picking the lock of Davy Jones' locker, and in spite of regulations or discipline or censor, paid a tribute to the inventive genius and courage of the shipmate who had saved their lives.

There was rejoicing in many a home and at many a fireside in Ardrossan that night that otherwise would have had mourning.

[glenshena]

Great story. Should be made into a film.

[exile]

Great story. Should be made into a film.

Agree 100%. Once you've ploughed through the leaden-footed narrative style of the time, it's a terrific candidate, all the more so because it's true.