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Tactical Thinking for the Mediterranean 106 By Lieutenant Commander Kenneth R. McGruther, U. S. Navy
Where is Kedalion? 109 By Lieutenant Edward Mihalak, U. S. Navy Computer Aided Operations Research Facility 113 By Commander John E. Manning, U. S. Naval Reserve
Tactical Thinking for the Mediterranean
By Lieutenant Commander Kenneth R. McGruther, U.S. Navy, Slated to be Executive Officer of the USS Joseph Strauss (DDG-16)
The renaissance in tactical thinking which has slowly been gathering steam within U.S. naval circles in recent years has on the whole been refreshing and thought provoking. Noteworthy among such efforts have been the advent of the tactical action officer concept and the development of one-on-one engagement analysis wherein the threat is broken down into a series of separate and comprehensible parts, so that it can be addressed in a logical and sequential order. A good example of the latter method is the July 1977 Proceedings article on “Countering the Soviet Threat in the Mediterranean” by Admiral Stansfield Turner and Commander George Thibault. But while the one- on-one engagement analysis approach can often be helpful, the tactical thinker must not lose sight of the "big picture” which includes strategic inputs such as the nature of the geography, the overall objective, and logistic considerations.
Let us take the Mediterranean case as an example. To address comprehensively the strategic problem there, one must consider not only one-on-one engagements but also the factors which make the naval problem in the Mediterranean unique. I would suggest that there are three. Foremost is the geography. Others are the sequence in which events would take place and the tempo, or pace, of those events. This commentary will focus on how these factors should affect the planning of an engagement there.
Tactical naval planning for the Mediterranean must consider three geographical features: (1) physical structure, (2) proximity of land bases, and (3) political realities. First, the Mediterranean is essentially a closed basin through which the U.S. and Soviet navies would have access and egress only at opposite ends. This feature leads to two salient considerations in planning a Mediterranean naval engagement. If a conflict were to occur in the Mediterranean between U.S. and Soviet naval forces, it would have to be fought with forces already on station. (The assumption being that the U.S. Atlantic Fleet would be occupied with countering the Soviet Northern Fleet.) Thus, it would behoove us to think not only in terms of the ships which the Soviets have deployed in the Mediterranean at any given time, but also of the order-of- battle of their Black Sea Fleet, measuring our capabilities in the Mediterranean against that combined threat.
In addition, the physical structure of the Mediterranean also leads us to examine our own proper objective. Edward Wegener (Soviet Naval Offensive, 1975, Naval Institute Press) has described “mastery of the sea” as being a function of two factors: fleet and position. His point is highly relevant in the case of a Mediterranean naval engagement. To counter the Soviet foe in such a conflict we would either have to destroy his fleet or preempt his position. The Turner- Thibault strategy suggests the former: destroying his fleet by means of attrition tactics. But attriting Soviet naval forces will be made simpler if we can successfully seal off the point through which the Soviet Mediterranean Es- cadra could be reinforced or supplied (or retreat to greater safety). Hence, whatever the policy of Turkey in a U.S.-Soviet naval engagement, sve cannot ignore the probability that the Soviets would make an early move to gain control of the Dardanelles- Hence, despite the analytical neatness of focusing only on tactics for engaging Soviet weapons and platforms one at a time, good Allied strategy in the Mediterranean must begin with a recognition of the geographical significance of the Dardanelles and that our strategic objective is to isolate the Sovtd Es cadra.
The second feature which results
from the Mediterranean’s distinctive geography is the close proximity of land which permits the extensive use °f land-based air power over the enclosed sea. Soviet strike aircraft operat- lng from bases on Soviet territory could cover at least the eastern half of rhe Mediterranean; Soviet reconnaissance aircraft could cover the entire Mediterranean. On the Allied side, land-based strike aircraft could cover at least the western half of the in the Eastern Mediterranean since this would give them the use of land- based air in their strikes, enable them to do so with a minimum of exposure while at the same time providing less warning and response time to Allied defenses, and allow their aircraft to return more quickly to home bases facilitating rapid turn around times for follow-on strikes. As a general principle then, assuming that naval engagement with Soviet naval forces is lied planners: despite the fact that the risk of Soviet attack is considerably higher if U.S. forces operate in the Eastern Mediterranean, it is nevertheless likely that American naval forces will operate there during periods of heightened tensions because that is exactly when and where they will be most relevant. Consequently, although the preferred tactical course might be to withdraw out of range of Soviet land-based air, the on-scene
editerranean, although many of the a,rcraft required for such a mission ^’ght be committed to land targets.
1 e Western land-based reconnais- ^ar>ce aircraft could fly over the entire a^ln’ they could do so in wartime n y with air cover which, in the East- ^rn Med, could only be provided from l‘rcraft carriers. The importance of ^ 'based air for Soviet strikes and u$e«ern reconnaissance flights leads ak t0 sorr>e additional observations °ut the course of a Mediterranean a.aVa engagement. One, carrier-based would have to provide the margin la ,SUperiority f°r the Allies, particu- An^ *n t^e Pastern Mediterranean, t'other is that the Soviets obviously u d prefer to conduct their attacks
imminent, Allied forces would want to maximize the distance which Soviet strike forces would have to transit in order to allow themselves time to employ the successive tiers of defense in the manner the Turner-Thibault article described.
naval commander may not be able to operate with such flexibility, and he will instead be obliged to operate so as to affect the outcome of the crisis. This may mean that he will have his amphibious ships close to the beach, or his replenishing ships detached, or strike aircraft loaded with air-to- ground ordnance for power projection
Unfortunately, this strategic principle conflicts with the third geographic feature of the Mediterranean, political realities. The fact is that despite the operational imperative of being as far as possible away from the bases from which Soviet strikes might be launched, the most likely location for the outbreak of conflict is in rhe Eastern Med, due to the highly volatile political situations in that region. Hence, there is a dilemma for Al-
instead of air-to-air ordnance to ensure air superiority. In short, if the Soviets do decide to strike, the U.S. naval commander may not have his forces as neatly arranged as he would like and he may have precious little time in which to maneuver for the best strategic position. He will in all likelihood have to rely on being able to anticipate and respond early to any indications of an impending Soviet attack. He also must be prepared to go with what he has got, in terms of strategic position as well as forces.
The sequence of events is the second strategic factor in a Mediterranean- based naval engagement. The generally accepted Western assumption is that the Soviets would strike first in a coordinated preemptive strike. The Turner-Thibault article suggested the means for countering each aspect of such a strike. But the success of these means would largely depend on our ability to recognize and counter the individual elements of the strike. Certainly the Soviets intend to deny us such a luxury. It therefore falls to us to confuse, disorganize, and otherwise disorient an imminent Soviet preemptive strike. The extent to which we are successful will in no small part affect our ability to cope with the various elements of the strike when it does come.
And if we are successful, what then? Do we wait for the Soviets to ask for peace, during which period they might only bring up more forces for another strike? Of course not. Two alternatives seem valid. First, take positive control of the Dardanelles to ease our job of attriting any remaining Soviet forces by sealing off the area of hostilities to egress as well as access. Second, strike the Soviet airfields from which the hostile air strikes were launched as well as—or even before worrying about—attacking Soviet surface forces. Moreover, there is advantage in publicizing this intended course of action rather than keeping it a secret. We should not hesitate to assure the Soviets that there is to be no free lunch; they should know they will not be allowed to strike a Western task group with impunity from their own home ports and bases, for any staging facilities would immediately become liable to counterstrikes.
The sequence of events in a Mediterranean conflict leads us to consider the tempo of the engagement, the third strategic factor. Tempo relates to the length of the conflict, the interval between stages, and the pace at which events occur. Because of the relatively small size of the Mediterranean, tempo in a naval engagement would be particularly critical. Al
though it is analytically easier to focus on one-on-one aspects of the engagement, the Turner-Thibault article for example did imply a logical strategy for overcoming the Soviet air, surface, and subsurface threats. The steps in this strategy were:
► Allied submarines destroy Soviet surface ships.
► Allied submarines and maritime patrol aircraft (MPA) search out and destroy enemy submarines, or otherwise sanitize an area.
► Allied CV-task groups (CVTGs) move into sanitized area and repel enemy air-to-surface missile (ASM) strikes.
► Allied submarines, MPA, and CVTGs continue attrition tactics against remaining Soviet units.
► Allied CVs and/or amphibious task groups operate in accordance with their projection of power mission.
In order to proceed to the next step the tactical commander must satisfy himself that he has succeeded in each preceding step to the extent that he has reduced the threat to the “acceptable level of risk” to which the article refers.
This phased strategy is a logical one for most scenarios. The problem, however, is that it takes time, and thus its use is not really compatible with the assumption that the initial hostile act will be a preemptive strike by the Soviets. Since the Soviets will have struck first, their surface ships’ submarines, and aircraft will already
have discharged their most potent weapons before this strategy can be placed into effect. It is unrealistic to assurne that those weapons will not have taken a toll. Would the CVTGs still be capable of repelling further ASM strikes? Would there be sufficient escorts to fend off submarine torpedoes? Would there be sufficient carrier-based air cover to protect the otherwise-vulnerable maritime patrol aircraft as they conduct their search ar>d destroy tactics? Would the CVs and amphibious vessels be able in the end to perform their power projection toission at all, or would they be too mvolved with the continuing requirement for self-defense?
In the end, it appears that merely Stippling the Soviet Navy would not e enough. Only if Allied forces retain sufficient capacity to perform their Power-projection functions will they 6 /urthering the policy goals for >ch the conflict was originally ‘°ught. The entire issue therefore comes down to how well the Allied rtes can repel and survive the initial strike. If we are ready, the attrition strategy will be an easy one to execute, and we will have other options open to us as well. But if we lose even one carrier’s capability for a period of time, it will severely limit our ability to execute that strategy before the Soviets retreat out of range—or launch a second attack. It is up to the fleet commander to be in a posture in which he can absorb and repel an attack before he thinks very much about how he will project power. As soon as he has succeeded in repelling the first attack, however, his available options will be many, and he should be prepared to seize the initiative immediately. Viewed from this perspective, one wonders if even two U.S. carriers are sufficient to assure success in a Mediterranean naval engagement with Soviets.
There is one final point dealing with tempo which should be emphasized, to which the Tumer-Thibault article quite correctly alluded. It concerns the assumption that the tactical commander must give first priority “to establishing an acceptable level of operating risk for naval forces.” The subtle implication inherent in this assumption is that the American naval commander must be prepared to operate with nothing more than some indefinite margin of superiority, not command-of-the-seas and not even local control. That margin of superiority will itself be determined in conjunction with the degree of urgency involved, meaning that it will not be possible to wait until more friendly forces arrive. And, the less time allowed in which to act, the greater the risk.
Such a policy of consciously going in harm’s way and deliberately operating without assurance about the outcome would be contrary to what we have become accustomed to over the last three decades. To some this may come as a scary thought, but it is also a sobering one of which we should all be aware. The days of wine and roses are over. American naval commanders will have to live—and fight—with wits as well as equipment.
^here Is Kedalion?
Lleutenant Edward Mihalak, U.S. Navy
fion was the son of Neptune. He was [j. andsome giant and a mighty hunter, thl ^at^er &ave ^,m power of wading srou£h the depths of the sea, or as others ay’ °f talking on its surface.
non loved Merope, the daughter of ■ noP'on, king of Chios, and sought her marriage. He cleared the island of wild ’ an“ brought the spoils of the chase Co Presents to his beloved; but as (Enopion ten,tant^ deferred his consent, Orion at- vi t0 ^aln Possess'on of the maiden by duct“'e' ^er fa*her incensed at this conkin’ ^aV‘nk made Orion drunk, deprived *** Sl&ht and cast him out on the sound* blinded hero followed the
t n °fa Cyclops’ hammer till he reached u^’ and came to the forge of Vulcan,
° taking pity on him, gave pjm Kedal
ion, one of his men, to be his guide to the abode of the sun. Placing Kedalion on his shoulders, Orion proceeded to the east, and there, meeting the sun-god, was restored to sight by his beam.’’ Thomas Bulfinch, The Age of Fable, 1915, p. 210
It appears that the patrol plane community has lost its sight and sense of direction as did Orion. The community is misdirecting its resources and time, thus tending to reduce its strategic defense capability.
In general, the problems in the patrol plane (VP) community are the results of previous decisions and policies made by men within the community; decisions and policies which are now in need of a change. Basic mission functions and roles have become blurred while many junior officers, their crews, and the men they influence are not clear as to how the weapon system they operate will be employed in time of war, and why it is operated the way it is in peacetime. A lethargy of outmoded instructions and procedures left over from the pre-computer, pre-data link, pre-tactical support center, pre-P-3C era still govern the thinking within the community. A basic understanding of the community’s capabilities, limitations, strengths, and weaknesses is sorely needed.
Currently, the VP community is actively involved in four major mission areas: strategic defense against the nuclear-powered ballistic missile submarine (SSBN) threat, high-value unit (HVU) protection, combined operations, and open-ocean surface surveillance. (HVU protection and combined operations have been separated as distinct mission areas and will be discussed later.) Present trends are not encouraging for those who believe strategic defense against the SSBN threat is the most important and most exercised mission area. The community apparently is emphasizing the combined operations mission while reducing its efforts in the other areas. Possibly, the community believes it can become a “jack-of-all-trades.”
In truth, there are many roles and missions the P-3 can and should perform, but herein lies one of the major problems faced by the community: there are just too many roles and missions. Within the present constraints of squadron operating procedures, qualification requirements, and personnel rotation patterns, it is almost impossible to reach a respectable performance level in any of the major mission areas, much less all of them. This predicament has probably been best verified by Captain W. J. Holland (former skipper of the USS Pintado [SSN-672]) in the September 1975 Proceedings with his statements regarding the effectiveness of airborne antisubmarine warfare (ASW) units. He stated:
. . . many of us who have served in nuclear submarines believe surface and airborne ASW forces have little utility.
. . . Captain Ruhe [a February
If the VP community is to improve, it must decide what it wants to master and make the needed operational changes.
In the past, the VP community has demonstrated a potential for playing a dominant role within the strategic defense area in countering the SSBN threat. Unfortunately, during the last five years, the SSBN threat has increased dramatically in both size and capability while the VP community has actually reduced its efforts in this area.
The problem of countering the SSBN threat is massive, but the patrol community can contribute significantly, and should commit itself, to this task. Possibly, this should be the primary mission for the community. If so, it should expend most of its resources
P-3s can be used for surface surveillance, communications relay, and surface weapons delivery, but isn’t the VP community’s primary mission to counter the growing Soviet SSBN threat?
1975 Proceedings author] states that two aircraft increase the kill ratio effectiveness by a multiple of six ‘and three aircraft should be more than double the effectiveness of two.’ As one of those who operated against such odds, my own shallow opinion is that 12 times zero is still a very small number.
and time in this area. Even if the VP community decides to assume a minimum role in this area, it must develop and routinely exercise contingency plans.
Within the last three years, the community’s commitment in this area has become blurred. The emphasis on operational flights has changed fron1
rhat
in Defense Conditions One or
performing tactical ASW to gathering acoustic intelligence (Aclnt). With the advent of a few specially configured aircraft, which were designed specifically for the collection of Aclnt data, a drastic change occurred in the attitude and mission objectives of what previously were primarily ASW- °riented flights. Aclnt collection is, and should continue to be, a mission objective, but it cannot become the riving factor in SSBN tactical flight operations. The community must con- t*nue to perform ASW missions against e SSBN threat in the same way it ex- *5ects to be forced to perform in war- tlrne- Presently, this is not the case.
Major changes are needed in the VP community’s current attitude towards tactical ASW. The underlying theme 0r all operations or training flights tuust reflect the anticipated wartime 0r Prc-hostilities conditions. The present philosophy of one aircraft versus °ne submarine needs to be reexamined. Most naval planners agree
vvo multiple aircraft will be used to engage a single submarine, and, to be SUccessful in wartime, proper prepara- ns must be made in peacetime, erefore, aircraft working in teams °uld become the rule rather than the j^ception for most training and opera- ‘°nal flights. The P-3C is configured th accomplish such a task, since, with e aid of data link and its computer CaPability, the major problems of accurate information flow, aircraft sep- arati°n, and sonobuoy management re largely resolved. Exploiting this c°ncept would significantly change esent tactics and procedures and °uld hopefully result in greater ASW Pmficiency.
Tk 1
ue second ASW mission which the r°l community must master is high uuic protection against a sub- j-Ur ace threat. This is not to be con, . with combined operations in >ch the P-3 is used for communica- s relay, surface surveillance, and surface weapon delivery. t-nce the P-3 has virtually no protec- s, n against surface or air threats, it uid not be employed in areas which dit'001 S° contr°lled- When this con- 10n is met, the P-3 can be used to ect a HVU and provide a forward,
outer ring of protection where the minimum amount of communications and control/interface with the HVU is required. Unless absolutely necessary, the P-3 should not be used to provide close-in support for any surface units. That role properly belongs to the LAMPS helicopter and S-3 communities which are better trained and more capable to fulfill this role.
In any case, communication with the HVU should always be minimal. Captain Holland offered some important advice in this area. First he confirms that a submarine can only detect an aircraft’s presence by monitoring electronic emissions or by visual sighting, and he further states:
At present TACAN [tactical air navigation system] and communications are dead giveaways. Pilots should be trained to be “Silent Sams" because often their loquaciousness provides information which usually allows submarines to enter their battles knowing where all the opponents lie.
As we all know, the consequences of a submarine’s knowing where her opponents lie can be quite severe. Therefore, strict electronic emission control (EMCON) is extremely important. Realizing that this is not always practical, a primary alternative to complete EMCON is the limited use of an airborne data link where surface units can enter the net at their own risk.
Using the P-3 as a forward screen in a reduced EMCON environment is the best way to employ the weapon system. Training exercises should be tailored to this concept. The community could easily become proficient in this role since it would be a natural spinoff of the SSBN mission training. On the other hand, if the P-3 continues to be used for close-in support, communications relay, or surface surveillance, the overall mission objective will suffer and disaster can be expected. It is very difficult for P-3 crews to become proficient in a close-support
The P-3C (pictured above) has been used as a replacement for the P-3B (facing page) and is not generally thought of as the new weapon system which it truly is.
role. An enormous amount of training and resources would be needed to overcome the difficulties involved and such an investment would be at the expense of maintaining proficiency in the SSBN mission area.
Another major problem area for the VP community is that it has encountered search directors directly responsible for the employment of the P-3C who do not understand the capabilities and limitations of the weapon system. Unfortunately, the P-3C has been used as a replacement for the P-3B and is not generally thought of as the new weapon system which it truly is. Because the two planes’ exteriors are similar, the natural tendency is to think of both aircraft as having the same capabilities. As a result, some of the basic advantages provided by the P-3C have gone unused. Most obvious is the data link. The ability to send tactical information accurately, within microseconds, is a tremendous asset, yet until the last two years, the data link system was hardly used. New tactics taking advantage of the information provided by the data link system should abound but, to date, not one has been published.
The management of the community’s computer assets has been disastrous. It is inconceivable that a manager of any resource would not want to optimize its use, yet the VP community appears to be operating in this fashion. Why the community did not insist on a compiler for the computer in the tactical support center (TSC) or the aircraft on-board computer is inexplainable and inexcusable. Essentially, eight years have been wasted in which tactical software could have
been developed for use both in flight and on the ground. Presently any such programming has to be done in machine language. There is no valid reason why the computing power offered by the TSC computer should not be used at night or during other low usage times.
Currently, Commander Patrol Wings Pacific (ComPatWingsPac) has terminal connections with various time-sharing computer systems, two Wang calculators for tactical development, and a few pocket calculators for squadron tactical use. ComPatWingsPac has developed programs which have proven to be extremely beneficial to the community. The best example is the Monte Carlo search pattern assessment mode (SPAM). With this program, the user can evaluate new sonobouy patterns and unproven tactics can be substantially analyzed on the ground. There is no reason why the aircraft’s or TSC computer could not be used similarly. Essentially, a great capability, possibly the community’s greatest, has been and will continue to be wasted until a commitment is made to use the available computer resources.
In a closely related area, the software development program for the P-3C can only be described as ludicrous. The operational programs delivered for fleet use have too often not even been properly debugged. Traditionally, the response time for corrections has been excessive and fleet inputs for future programs seemed to be ignored. However, it is encouraging to see that the VP community finally solved its problem of inadvertent weapon releasings caused by software malfunctions. The P-3C was plagued by this problem for almost a year. Hopefully, now that the Naval Air Development Center is responsible for software development, other improvements will be made.
Numerous changes can be made in the software development program particularly with the operational program for the P-3C. Since equipment utilization rates are highly dependent upon the mission of the flight, the software should be designed to accommodate various missions. For example, a software-controlled, square-search pattern would be very handy to the P-3C assigned a search and rescue mission. Since numerous flights do not use data link, weapons, or other software-intensive functions, it should not be difficult to develop separate programs or “program overlays” tailored for specific flights. It is remarkable, however, that only one operational P-3C program is available for fleet use.
Another major area within the patrol community which needs review is management. Recently, the Chief of Naval Operations, after visiting Pacific Fleet units, commented that there appears to be too much "management by crisis” in today's Navy life. Had he made an in-depth examination of the patrol community, he would have discovered that this is a common VP management technique. It is surprising that operations officers are not required to attend any schools to master this apparently acceptable management system, for they all seem too ready to use crisis management in day-to-day activities.
Personnel rotation procedures also need to be reexamined. A six-month extension of current first-tour lengths would enhance aircrew proficiency dramatically. More important, “closed-loop” detailing of experienced personnel back into patrol squadrons or closely related billets would greatly improve the effectiveness of the patrol community. Technology is changing tactics so rapidly and ASW has grown so complex that the community cannot afford to send its top performers to non-ASW billets. The P-3C is a complex weapon system which is hard to master. Combining weapon system requirements with learning oceanography, tactics, operating procedures, and billet responsibilities produces quite a challenge even for someone as versatile and responsive as a naval aviator.
Presently, patrol plane commander (PPC) and tactical air coordinator (TACCO) training programs are managed well considering the severe constraint imposed by current personnel rotation practices. Due to the high turnover rate, patrol squadrons, even when deployed, are always in a training environment. Realistically, training does not begin until after the first-tour aviator has completed initial qualification requirements and obtained a crew. Immediately, one must learn how to work with all crew members and react quickly in various situations to produce the desired results. Not until one is exposed to many different situations can he be considered proficient. Unfortunately, under good training conditions, this usually does not occur until about si* months prior to rotation.
Considering the trends and problems within the patrol community, one wonders what lies ahead. Ironically, the future for the patrol community is exceptionally bright. The threat still exists and will continue to increase until an adequate counter *s developed. New technological advances in both acoustic and nonacoustic areas are extremely promising and may change the basic nature of the ASW problem. These advances suggest it is not unrealistic to assume that in the near future the submarine s objective will not be to remain undetected, but to break detection- Whether this will be achieved through coherent processing techniques, satellite infrared tracking, from a new tyf* of magnetic anomoly detector, or by other means, remains to be seen.
In the meantime, where is Kedal- ion when we need him?
this
program was the establishment of
Computer Aided Operations Research Facility
Commander John E. Manning, U.S. aval Reserve; Director of Energy Data ystems, Grumman Data Systems
Corporation
As a direct result of the Merchant Marine Act of 1970, the U.S. Congress made a commitment to improve productivity of the U.S. Merchant arine. This was to be accomplished ln a number of ways including improving the competitive position of e U.S. flag vessels and shipyards. In Consonance with this act, the Wood’s °*e Conference was held in 1969 to Pjan the rebirth of the U.S. Merchant arine through a program of scientific research. One of the key elements in
a requirement for an advanced marine research simulator. This simulator, n°svn as the Computer Aided Opera- r*°ns Research Facility (CAORF), has recently completed its first year of operation and is being used to study adVanced maritime research problems lch will ultimately result in improved ships, harbors, and marine equipment desig ns.
The research simulator concept is lab neW Simulation has been used for °ratory evaluations of components, ^sterns, and human performance. The ry and effectiveness of military avi- atl°n and manned spaceflight have een improved through applied re- earch which included simulation as a ^*a)°r element. This technology has een extended to the maritime indus- ^ t0 accornPl‘sh the same objective: Th lrnTrove safety and productivity.
e Computer Aided Operations Re- eatch Facility takes advantage of ad- ced simulation technology and °TOputer_generate[j images and P ies it to complex maritime opera- *°ns problems. For the first time, the ritlrne industry has the capability Performing a wide range of experi- safntS Un<^er controlled conditions in a e and realistic operational environ- ent. The facility is used for both
D^Sir , _
and applied research. Through
basic research, new ideas and insights will be generated that determine the roots of problems and produce advances in technology. Through applied research, new systems will be experimentally tested and evaluated. In applied research, the philosophy is to make maximum use of today’s technology to develop a cost-effective, safe merchant marine.
The CAORF simulator, located on the grounds of the U. S. Merchant Marine Academy in Kings Point, New York, is the most advanced surface ship simulator in the world today. Operated by Grumman Data Systems Corporation for the National Maritime Research Center, the CAORF simulator provides a realistic visual scene and a full-scale ship’s wheelhouse which is fitted out with the latest marine equipment. The simulator is housed in a specially built facility. Figure 1 shows a cut-away of the major subdivisions of this structure. The
wheelhouse, 125-foot projection screen, and large-screen television projectors are located at the forward end of the building. The computer room housing two main computers, three special purpose computers, and image-generation equipment is located in the center of the building adjacent to the bridge. The remainder of the building houses the complete staff required to operate and maintain the facility and office areas for research and experimentation groups, data reduction centers, and maintenance shops. The bridge equipment arrangement and system components can be easily changed to suit the experiment requirements. A gyro-pilot control panel and helm unit tied to the central computer drive the rudder-angle indicator, heading indicator, and rate-of-turn indicator. Two conventional radar units and a collision-avoidance system provide realistic displays of the radar image and collision-avoidance data. An
Seen through the bridge windows are the ships and shapes of New York Harbor. The visual quality is akin to an animated color cartoon. With the aid of computers, the scene changes in response to the decisions of the pilot on the bridge. The resulting actions are monitored in the CAORF control center, below, and the human factors station, right.
engine-order control panel permits operation of the simulated engines in either throttle or telegraph mode. Bow and stern thrusters are also installed as well as a variety of internal and external ship’s communications systems.
Through the wheelhouse windows, a realistic full-color view of the port or harbor area being studied can be seen. New York Harbor between Ambrose Tower and Port Newark was the operational area modeled for the initial experiment. The harbor of Valdez, Alaska, has also been modeled and an extensive series of experiments conducted to determine safe operating conditions and procedures for passing through the Valdez Narrows and Prince William Sound areas.
The shoreline, buildings, bridges, navigation aids, and docking areas which make up the harbor being studied are stored in the central computer and various special-purpose computers. These static features may be changed or modified to suit specific experimental requirements. In addition, harbor traffic may be simulated and controlled with the system. The ability to simulate complex ship’s traffic gives CAORF a unique capability.
The image generator produces a full-color scene as viewed through the wheelhouse windows over an arc of 240° in azimuth and +10° to -14° in elevation. The system is capable of displaying up to six moving ships in the visual scene at the same time in addition to own ship. The visual scene changes accurately respond on a realtime basis to own and other ship maneuvering motions. The view of large objects at long distances is accurately modeled as a function of the observer’s height above sea level and the range of the object so that landfalls and other ships appear as they do at sea. The image generator is capable of representing any level of light, from daylight to moonless night. Ship lights, as well as haze and fog, can also be simulated.
The radar signal generator produces real-time video signals coordinated with the visual scene and the two radar displays on the bridge. Topographical features and up to 40 moving target ships can be displayed, six of which can also be seen on the visual display.
The control station permits the experimenter to monitor and control the experiment’s progress, introduce malfunctions, and control the exercise. The control station also is used to simulate intercom, telephone, and radio contact with the bridge crew. The situation display, an integral part of the control station, presents a relative motion display of own ship, traffic ships, land masses, and navigation aids. This provides a bird’s-eye view of the entire operational area.
The human factors monitoring station is the location from which test subjects may be observed unobtrusively by research psychologists. They are provided with a closed-circuit view of all bridge equipment as well as repeaters of the visual scene surrounding own ship. The psychologists may observe, make audio/video tape recordings, and record other appropt*' ate data for analysis of the motivation and dynamics of the bridge watch off*' cer.
The central data processor (CDP) lS the heart of the system; it controls three other computers, as well as accepting and responding to the steering
and propulsion commands from Slrnulated bridge. The CDP geners ^al-time position and heading dat< e radar signal generator and im generator to create the radar scenes e simulated bridge and situat isplay. The CDP is equipped to COfd simulation run data to permit setting simulation to selectable j Points in time, either for i
initialization or f°r run playback.
The CAORF simulator is used to sPrdy a variety of problems including 'P control and navigation, bridge j^uipment design, and harbor design; ut no series of experiments is more lrnP°rtant than the study of collision guidance procedure and equipment.
e size and cost of existing and proposed ships together with the volatil- lcy of their cargoes make it absolutely necessary to minimize the risk of colli- Sl°ns and groundings. Liquid natural 8®s (LNG) ships nearly 1,000 feet °n8> carrying over 125,000 cubic ^ °f cargo, and costing in excess $100 million to build will soon be operation. Express container ships P ' ,000 feet in length and ca-
a le of speeds in excess of 32 knots lr» use currently as are ultra large rude carriers drawing 90 feet of water displacing 500,000 dwt. Fur- errnore, these ships have the added
disadvantage of difficult handling characteristics, some of them requiring 20 minutes to stop, and all susceptible to shallow water hydrodynamic effects. Moreover, huge barge ships capable of lifting over 35 barges of 850 tons each and chemical tankers carrying diverse and exotic cargoes which must be treated with great care, are now plying the harbors and waterways of the world. Indeed these superships, navigating in restricted waters, present potential disasters of immense proportions.
With this in mind, it is essential to evaluate proposed changes in design parameters of ships, harbor terminal facilities, aids to navigation, and channel or waterway characteristics. As an example of how CAORF will be used in solving these problems, a ship owner might question the ability of a type of vessel to safely navigate in a harbor or may want to determine what the limiting ship characteristics are for a given set of conditions. Furthermore, a government agency may question the adequacy or suitability of a harbor to accommodate a certain type of vessel or determine needed improvements such as widening of channels to accommodate larger ships. In addition, a regulating body might have to decide whether it is safe for a specific vessel to use a so-called hazardous waterway under certain conditions of tide, weather, current, visibility, and traffic.
The recent study of operating procedures in Valdez Harbor and Prince William Sound is an example of how CAORF has been used to solve a practical problem. Valdez is the southern terminus of the Alaskan oil pipe line. Large 165,000-dwt. tankers began operating in Valdez in August 1977 shortly after North Slope oil began flowing into the port’s storage tanks. Prior to the introduction of this tanker traffic, several experiments using the CAORF simulator were conducted to study the effects of high winds and failed shipboard equipment, including both engines and steering equipment, on Valdez tanker operations. As a result of this study, valuable information was provided to the U.S. Coast Guard concerning safe wind conditions for entering the harbor, optimum speed and tug configurations, and a quantitative measure of a precise navigation system. As a by-product of these studies, the Southwest Alaskan pilots who acted as the test subjects for this experiment were given CAORF training with failed equipment and very severe conditions in the Valdez Narrows. Most of these pilots likely will never experience conditions as severe as they encountered on CAORF, but if they do, they will be ready.
Future CAORF simulator experiments will deal with a variety of complex maritime problems including site selection for an LNG terminal on the West Coast, an evaluation of the traffic flow in the Santa Barbara channel, and an investigation of the safety and controllability of large tankers (250,000 dwt.) making transits to a proposed new oil terminal at a Northeast port. Studies of offshore terminal approaches and moorings, vessel traffic control systems, and pilot training and certification will also be performed during the next two years.
There is no question that man will never fully control the seas. But the experimental possibilities inherent in the kind of computer simulation that put men on the moon and returned them safely to earth can be used to improve the safety and productivity of the U.S. Merchant Marine.