(See January, 1957 Proceedings)
Captain Richard B. Loeb, USNR (Ret.)—In 1920 I returned from the meetings of the American Physical Society in Washington in the company of the first Director of the National Bureau of Standards, Dr. S. W. Stratton. I was much intrigued by certain of his comments. It appears that Dr. Stratton at that time, as Director of the Bureau of Standards, had attended a very important conference having to do with the question of proposed new safety regulations concerning radio compass installations in merchant vessels above a certain tonnage, at which were present representatives of the leading shipping firms, members of the Lighthouse Service, and technical radio experts.
Prior to World War I, continuous wave radio signal transmission was impossible, but through the development of the three electrode oscillator tube during the war, reliable radio signals could be transmitted. This development during the war also inevitably led to the perfection of the radio compass.
The question before the committee hearings dealt with the regulations concerning the required installation and use of radio compasses for insuring safety at sea and as an aid to navigation. Dr. Stratton, in describing the hearings, was very much disturbed because the maritime shipping interests had opposed the recommendations of the scientists for legislation requiring that all ships above a certain tonnage be equipped with radio compasses operated by properly qualified personnel aboard ship, receiving signal transmission from the lighthouse stations at various points along the coast in order to establish positions at sea under conditions of poor visibility. At that time the cost of the suitable radio compass installations was not an insignificant figure and the training of the necessary licensed personnel to operate them, together with the wages being paid such operators, made the maritime and shipping interests strongly opposed to this added expense. Since all vessels of the tonnages involved were then required by law to carry radio transmitters, the ship owners insisted that the radio stations be installed at the lighthouses to give the ships their bearings on request. Dr. Stratton, not only a good scientist, but also an astute observer of human nature and an experienced reserve officer, had contended that this procedure, although economical from the point of view of the maritime interests, was exceedingly dangerous. He stated that no navigator would rely on the bearings given him byan unknown operator from a lighthouse station in contradiction to his own estimate of his position at sea. On the other hand, he stated that if the navigator of a vessel receiving bearings from his own radio compass operated under the direction of his own personnel received indications contradicting his own estimates and could verify and check these by repeated bearings, he would have confidence and proceed to take into account the contradictory findings. Dr. Stratton stated that he had concluded his comments after the decision had been taken by telling the group that their decision was unwise and that they were, on a minor economy, "preparing one of the great maritime disasters in history."
Three and one half years later, seven U. S. destroyers went aground on the rocky shores of Pt. Pedernales on the California coast. I quote from the article "Course Zero Nine Five," referring to the Squadron Commander's testimony:
"When the message came telling us we were to the north of Arguello, I could not believe it. Remember we had travelled about 120 miles from the time we had received our position earlier during the day. I did not believe it possible we were still north of Arguello. I asked for our bearings. From 6:30 to 8:00 o'clock, that most vital period, we were unable to get radio bearings from the station. I had every reason to believe in my own mind that we were south of the Point. When we did get our bearings they were confused. It seemed to me that they had made a mistake. I insisted we were to the south of the Point and asked for confirmation. The station insisted we were north. There was only one thing to do—to make a decision as to whether or not the station was correct…I was convinced the station was wrong. But they were right."
Rear Admiral Charles J. Moore, USN (Ret.)—This article recalls to my mind incidents of the night of September 8, 1923, that may be of interest to your readers.
At that time I was in command of the USS McDermut, squadron leader and flagship of Destroyer Squadron Twelve.
The directive of Commander Destroyer Squadrons, Battle Fleet, regarding the speed at which Destroyer Squadrons Eleven and Twelve were to proceed to San Diego was permissive rather than a requirement. It was received with elation by the personnel of both squadrons because for more than two years the destroyers had not been permitted for economy reasons to exceed fifteen knots when cruising or making passage between ports. It was with considerable disappointment, therefore, that on departure from San Francisco on September 8 the visibility was poor, the wind rather strong from the northwest, and the sea moderate. We in the McDermut feared that the squadron would not be able to complete the voyage at "high speed."
After the departure from San Francisco, the squadrons operated independently but were within easy sight of each other when the Twelfth Squadron obtained a rather indefinite departure with Point Sur abeam at 1100.
I have no record available of changes in the weather, changes in speed, or of radio bearings or soundings recorded in the McDermut during the afternoon and evening of September 8. Much of these data were available and were later used, however, to present to the Annapolis class of 1926, in a chart problem, a means of using such data in making a safe passage from Point Sur to Point Conception under the conditions existing on September 8.
I hope that it is sufficient to say that in contrast to the experience of Squadron Eleven, Squadron Twelve slowed first to fifteen knots, then to ten knots, took frequent soundings and a succession of radio bearings from the station at Point Arguello. The run between bearings was logged at 19, 14, 9 knots or even less as appropriate, because of the heavy yawing of the destroyers in the following sea. In this regard, it was understood at the time, that in the Eleventh Squadron, speed over the ground was estimated to be 20 to 22 knots.
At about 2200 the Twelfth Squadron changed course to enter Santa Barbara Channel. Two or more visual bearings of Point Conception Light were obtained, and the position of the flagship was quite definitely fixed. This fix, run back to the point where course was changed off Point Arguello, indicated that the position established from radio bearings and soundings on the run south was correct within a half mile.
It was some time after the squadron entered Santa Barbara Channel that word reached the McDermut of serious trouble in Squadron Eleven. The first news was a report from one of the destroyers that she was aground on San Miguel Island. Next was a despatch sent by another destroyer that she was aground on a pinnacle rock with deep water on both sides and that she was breaking up. Another destroyer reported that she was aground at Point Honda. This was mystifying, as no such name could be found on the chart. It developed later that the name was taken from the sign on the railroad station that was close to the point of grounding.
The Commander Destroyer Squadron Twelve was loath to turn back and seek to render aid to our sister destroyers in a rough sea, in a thick fog, on a rocky shore, and in an unknown location. Nevertheless, he directed the ships of the squadron to rig their towing gear and he reversed the course of the squadron. At the same time he reported his action to the Commander Destroyers, Battle Fleet. It was with much relief that within a short time he received orders from his commander to proceed to San Diego with the squadron.
With respect to the final comment of Captain Donald McClench on the navigational aspects of the disaster, the caution and judgment exercised by the Commander Destroyer Squadron Twelve makes it seem even more incredible that "no one aboard any of the wrecked ships visualized that an uncertain and even dangerous situation existed."
Captain Alexander Forbes, MC, USNR (Ret.)—This is the first detailed account of the tragic stranding of seven destroyers in September, 1923, that I have had the opportunity to read. It is of special interest to me, as I was assigned exclusively to radio compass duty from February, 1918, to February, 1919, and during that time was occupied with installing and calibrating radio compasses on the destroyers in Queenstown and Liverpool, and especially in combatting the skepticism of the skippers as to the utility of these newfangled gadgets. After the Armistice I was engaged in testing and calibrating the shore-based radio compasses at Fire Island, Sandy Hook, and Mantoloking.
From the radio direction finding point of view, the essence of the stranding episode was that the destroyers, steering 150° true on a course which supposedly would take them well to the west of Point Arguello, received reports of repeated R.D.F. bearings of 320° to 330° true from the shore station on the point, indicating approach almost directly to the direction finder on the shore. Yet the Squadron Commander was so confident of his dead reckoning that he believed he had passed the point and was on the reciprocal bearing, viz., about 160° from the station. He promptly changed course to 095° true and in five minutes was aground north of the point.
Two other tragic examples of failure to use R.D.F. bearings properly led me to publish in Yachting, June, 1938, an article on the use of triangulation with radio bearings as a means of avoiding confusion and disaster. By that time the principle of this procedure had been suggested in the Light List of the North Atlantic Coast and in the 1937 Supplement to the Coast Pilot. The two episodes that inspired the suggestion were the Navy's early attempt to fly a plane from California to Honolulu, and the ramming of Nantucket Lightship by the Olympic. In the first episode, unexpectedly adverse· winds caused exhaustion of the fuel before Honolulu could be reached. Naval ships were stationed along the route. When the fuel was running low, a radio compass bearing was taken on the nearest ship. The bearing was "bilateral," i.e., it could be in either direction along a straight line. The navigator guessed which of the two opposite bearings was correct, and guessed wrong. The plane was flown straight away from the ship till the fuel was exhausted, and then came down to wait an anxious week while naval ships searched the ocean. Fortunately they found the plane in time to save all hands. A brief flight perpendicular to the line of bearing would have quickly shown which way the bearing was changing and thus would have told the navigator which way to turn.
The blunder of the Olympic's personnel was different. The ship in a dense fog was steered straight for the lightship from which the guiding signals came until they sighted the lightship so close under the bow that they could not avoid ramming and sinking her. A 30° or 40° change of course, while still a safe distance away, would have quickly afforded a base line for triangulation, and with very little delay the Olympic could have proceeded, knowing her position with precision.
These ideas have probably been assimilated by most navigators in the Navy before now, and with the coming of Loran, such procedures may have become superfluous. It may seem foolish, then, to talk of "locking the stable door" when the wild horse has escaped more than 33 years ago. Yet Loran may not always be available, and some navigators may have forgotten these tragedies and the lesson they taught. Therefore it may be appropriate to note how easily trouble can be averted by a second bearing after an appropriate change of course.
Suppose when the Squadron Commander thought he was still some ten or fifteen miles northwest of Pt. Arguello he had called for a bearing, then changed course 40° or 50° to the west. In a few minutes a second bearing would have given him the means of plotting his position with sufficient precision for safe navigation. A return to nearly his previous course and a third bearing when the point was nearly abeam would have given an even more accurate fix.
A navigator hates to proceed many miles at right angles to his course, because of the delay entailed. Be it noted that the sine of 45° is 0.707. This means that if the course is changed 45°, it is 70% as effective as a 90° change of course, in giving a base line for triangulating a beacon directly ahead on the base course. Also it is taking the ship toward her destination 70% as fast as if she had held her course. A change of course anywhere between 30° and 60° will thus afford a good compromise between minimizing delay and minimizing the error in triangulation. Precision will obviously depend not only on the accuracy of the radio bearings, but also on the precision of steering and of recording the distance run between bearings.
Grover M. Dickman, San Diego, California. (Mr. Dickman was a chief radioman in the Woodbury, one of the destroyers that went on the rocks, and he was a witness before the subsequent Court of Inquiry.)—Testimony given during trial of the officers involved revealed that miscalculation in dead reckoning was primarily due to unfamiliarity with the gain or loss of speed when a destroyer is making twenty knots. Instead of having gained four miles an hour as calculated, they had lost four miles an hour, making their position thirty-odd miles north of the reckoning. It was also established that each destroyer was equipped to verify the bearings transmitted from Point Arguello and that the bearings transmitted were correct so far as observations would allow.
It was within the province of the squadron leader to check the bearings by triangulation, since his ship was underway and he knew his course. He could easily distinguish between reciprocal and true bearings with the long interval between bearings. Having had his confidence lowered earlier with the Cuba incident, it is easy to understand why the squadron leader was skeptical and indecisive.
What seems the strangest of all facts was that no radio operator saw fit to verify bearings with his own equipment and the Court was unaware of the possibility until my testimony was given. It was claimed that they had to unguard their working frequency to get bearings.
There was a profit made in the experience and since that disaster, the radio compass has come into its own and the reluctance of navigators to take advantage of this device has been entirely removed.