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t The Old (Fresh Water) Navy
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By Commander Franklyn K. Zinn, U. S. Navy (Retired)
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11
A fresh Recent
water Navy could live again, proposals for operating Trident submarines
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a e Michigan bring back memories of all types of were built in the Great Lakes during
in f ^ar ^act’ ^or some us> the first steps
our efforts toward becoming “old salts” began in iresh water!
of T *ts ^vantages. Maneuvering on the surface Ch' 2 e MichiSan meant not only a home port in fQrta^0’ ’r also meant an abundance of fresh water Se f e ^°ilers. Once, when I was a junior ensign bSs'uf /35 °®cer cRe deck on board the gunboat fro 1 mette (later IX-29), I saw a strange signal fly
first ^ar<^arm on one shiP *n column astern: Th rePeater, second repeater, third repeater”! Boo/6 nothing like that in the General Signal hats °Ut fortunately a veteran “fresh water salt” l0ca^ene^ t0 he on the bridge. He translated this umn S*^na^: Request permission to pull out of col- to l° ta^e °n ^resh water.” All hands who wanted in 1 6 3 s^°wer benefited, too. No limitations! Pull- the <fUt co^umn was a Ptudent move—considering fisposal methods of ships’ heads.
°Ut *S ‘s rhe life, I thought as the Wilmette steamed hrili° tbe ^h‘cag0 harbor several days earlier on a in, *ant Sunday afternoon in July 1938. I was stand- Un|p tne quarterdeck in one of the four dress white a0rrns required of all Naval Reserve officers, when sj Ssenger handed me a billeting and watch as- ent siip stating that I was to be boat officer for Overboard” and also officer of the deck for the boar^atCb tbat ^rSt n*Rhr- Although I had been on SUrria Patrol craft (YP) for two weeks the preceding cer . er’. fhis was my first real cruise as a naval offi- Vers.^ bile in the Naval ROTC at Northwestern Uni- the ^^ ^a<^ completed two one-month cruises in and ^SS ^eary (DD-158), an old four-pipe destroyer, two weeks on board the USS Mississippi (BB-41). arently this qualified me to stand top watch.
The Wilmette had been built in 1903 as the passenger steamer SS Eastland. Twelve years later, as passengers were boarding on the Chicago River, a yacht nearby caught fire; when all the passengers rushed to one side to view the fire, the Eastland turned turtle, and 812 people drowned. Her seaworthiness had been jeopardized when her owners piled new decks on her that she wasn’t built to carry. The Navy eventually took her over, chopped off several of those decks, and converted her into a Naval Reserve training ship. Her skipper was Captain Edward A. Evers, U. S. Naval Reserve, a crusty old salt who made captain in the Illinois State Naval Militia and began serving with the Naval Reserve in 1911. In 1938, 27 years later, he was still a four-striper— quite some time in grade!
As I was mulling all this over, suddenly there was a flurry of piping and the shouts: “Man overboard!" I ran to the lifeboat, jumped in, and donned the mandatory life jacket. It was filthy. It had been in the boat over the weekend, and the prevailing wind had deposited Chicago soot all over the Wilmette. Also, the ship had blown tubes, and oily soot from that was on everything in the boat. My suit of whites was ruined, but it was worth it, I thought, to save a drowning man’s life. I soon found out, of course, that it was just a drill.
Climbing to the bridge that warm summer night to take over the mid watch, I noted that we were leading a column of naval misfits. Behind us were the Paducah (ex-PG-18), Dubuque (ex-PG-17), Wilmington (ex-PG-8), and Hawk (IX-14), the latter an ex-yacht built for British royalty in 1891. In her wardroom was a large wooden panel with “God Save the Queen” emblazoned on it. Before going to the bridge, I had looked over the Watch Officer's Manual (a 1917 Naval Institute publication) and dutifully asked all the proper questions of the officer I relieved. After assuming the conn, I noticed that there