The matching of wit against wit to reach the top of each class undoubtedly has been an enormous factor in making engineering performances of the U. S. Navy the envy of the forces afloat under other flags. It has had, moreover, an intangible effect in stimulating economy in our merchant marine. Economical naval practices are studied by the shrewd operator who desires to secure as much energy from a pound of coal or a gallon of oil as possible, because his profit is in direct proportion to the reduction of overhead and the maintenance of schedules.
Values now are recognized and respected which, in older days, often were ignored. Economy in fuel requires eternal vigilance against the forces of neglect and waste. But it is submitted that at the present time all major improvements and advances have become so standardized by repetition and practice that they are veritable landmarks; as familiar to the young ensign standing watch as to the fleet engineer. Gains have been capitalized by the relentless forces in the office of fleet training so that ships now resemble the bull being snubbed by the farmer, who takes in all slack and hangs on.
This condition has caused sharp minds and ingenious souls to turn to other methods of advancing the cause. When an enterprising engineer officer, figuring far into the night with his book of rules and only the illumination of his flashlight (because the generators have been shut down to save oil), arrives at the amazing conclusion that he can make a better score at twenty-seven knots than he can at seven knots, he immediately becomes obsessed with the idea that the only proper speed for all occasions is the aforesaid twenty-seven knots.
If his commanding officer be cognizant of the peculiar appeal which a commendatory letter makes to the selection board, it may not be difficult for him to find sound reasons for recommending twenty-seven knots under conditions which normally would not produce such a desire.
Again, when he finds that any changes in speed except on the even hour require him to average the revolutions for the entire hour—with resultant decrease in competitive values over what would have been realized on a steady speed for that period—he may be able to persuade the bridge to continue the most gainful speed from the competitive viewpoint to the end of the hour, even though the necessity for sustained high speed has passed.
Such practices are justified under the premise that “they are all doing it,” but they are nevertheless malignant growths on the competitive system which undoubtedly cost the fuel budget some thousands of dollars annually and can be eliminated only by an impartial and concerted effort on the part of the higher administrative officers whose duty it is to maintain a proper balance and to see that the tail never wags the dog.
In happy contrast to such a situation may be pictured other artificialities which actually result in economies but unfortunately have their repercussion on other phases of naval administration. For example, if it be found that fuel consumption while the ships are backed is excessive over the allowance (and on turbine-driven ships it is inherently so), it may be possible to induce the bridge to carefully calculate the distance to the anchorage and so arrange matters that the engines will be stopped and the ship glide to a graceful (albeit protracted) standstill squarely over the designated “mark” without the necessity of backing the engines. Meanwhile, with careful management, it will be possible for the engineer officer to secure all boilers, and shut down his plant, so that when the blast of the bugle finally signifies to the waiting crew that the anchor at last has dropped to the deep, the throttle- man may be seen at his regular parade on deck, bathed and refreshed.
Such tricks, however, as has been said, are now universal. They only advance the general level of the competition. It is in the auxiliaries that the greatest latitude now is offered for the exercise of that ingenuity which is essential to excellence in engineering competition. Assuming that the competitive allowance at anchor is based on usual ventilation, ample allowance for drinking, washing, and flushing water, adequate cooling of drinking water and refrigerator spaces, and the proper utilization of the ship’s commissary appliances, it is immediately perceived by the discriminating engineer officer that any reduction in the consumption of fuel for these purposes will advance the score. The formula for a family feud is now in hand. The engineer officer feels that it is his sacred duty to reduce auxiliary expenditures to a minimum and if he be of the proper mettle, such minimum is always zero.
He and his assistants will go stealthily from compartment to compartment and turn off lights and fans. Even though the blower rheostats have been set on the mark which scientific accuracy has demonstrated represents the lowest current consumption compatible with sustained motion, they will shut the ventilation system down entirely on the slightest pretext. If the ship be fitted with an air-heated system for cold weather, they will don woolen socks and balbriggan wear and smile at the anemic souls who want heat. They will tie little placards to every fresh-water outlet, meter each major activity, and prescribe the number of pints of water permissible for a shower.
These, however, are allowable stratagems which are not resented. But when pressure is brought on the supply officer to buy shore bread to save the electric load on the ovens, and to purchase shore ice to save the electric load on the refrigeration apparatus; when the ice machines are shut down at night while the stalwart frankfurter wilts and becomes covered with mould (notwithstanding the rapid freeze in the early watches of the morning); when the cook wonders why the beans will not soften and suddenly discovers that the zealous watch officer has shifted the galley from live steam to back pressure, not knowing that the admiral would disturb the fine balance of things by taking an unexpected hot tub; and the whole crew are mustered to hoist the whaleboat because the steam winch unfortunately uses steam—it is then that family ties break and the black gang feels the scorch of the fires of ambition.
Unless the commanding officer takes a firm stand—and it is a hard and thankless task for him if his ship be near the top of the competitive list—he will feel inclined to follow Pontius Pilate and wash his hands of the matter and give the engineer officer his way. It is then, on contact with others, that the crew realize the pity which is freely given to the personnel of “competition” ships, because of the petty economies practiced on the daily comforts and necessities of shipboard life which would make even a Scotchman cry, “For shame!”
The scuttle butt may spout steam (even though it is shut down each night at 10:00 p.m.), the flushing water may be reduced below the standard of sanitation, oil lamps may be lit (because kerosene is not as yet under the competition), and even voice tubes may be used so that the telephone switchboard may be shut down, but so long as the score is high, the engineer officer will go blithely on his way, with scorn for those who cannot share his enthusiasm.
The remedy for these excesses cannot be left to administrative action afloat so long as the standards are set in Washington. It would seem logical to provide compensation for marked variations in speed during an hour; to put a limit on high-speed runs which may* not be exceeded except for cause; and to provide allowances for those exercises which are essential to smart seamanship and proper ship handling, else this phase of our naval life will become extinct.
As for auxiliaries, it would seem only proper to fix a minimum rather than a maximum allowance for the necessities of shipboard daily life which may be lowered only under penalty. There would then be every inducement to the engineer officer to provide adequate ventilation, sufficient flushing flow, cool drinking water, and liberal bathing facilities, the maximum use of the ship’s commissary appliances and those labor-saving devices which are put on board ship for better performance with fewer men.
It is only through such restraints on the ingenious mind that the engineering competition ever will appeal whole heartedly to the entire crew, and the real economies inherent in the idea will be fully realized.