Pearl Pilot: The Future of Navy Ship Maintenance
By Captain Jeffrey D. Conners, U.S. Navy
Declining defense budgets, the end of the Cold War, and changes in the size and shape of our Navy are reality. In an effort to help meet these challenges to maintaining our ships, Congress approved the Pearl Harbor Naval Shipyard (PHNSY) and Intermediate Maintenance Facility (IMF) merger (called the Pearl Pilot) to validate the concept of combining intermediate-and depot-level maintenance organizations into one establishment within a single geographical area.
The test of merging two large intermediate- and depot-level ship maintenance organizations is well under way. The test period runs from 1 October 1998 to 1 October 2000, and standards have been established to measure success.
In 1992, Admiral Frank Kelso, then Chief of Naval Operations, coined the term "regional maintenance" to describe a means of reducing infrastructure and using the savings to recapitalize the Navy's ships and airplanes. At that time, 7,000 people were employed in the Pearl Harbor basin maintaining 40 ships: 5,200 civilians at Pearl Harbor Naval Shipyard, and 1,800 military personnel at the Submarine Base Intermediate Maintenance Activity and the Shore Intermediate Maintenance Activity. The submarine facility, which was established in 1920, was located on 32 acres of recovered marshland; the shore facility, established in 1933, occupied eight acres at Merry Point.
In 1994, these two organizations were consolidated onto 15 acres of land on Kuahua Peninsula as the Naval Intermediate Maintenance Facility. This installation, with its 1,600 military personnel, became the Navy's only joint Submarine and Surface Intermediate Maintenance Facility.
In 1996, Pearl Harbor Naval Shipyard reduced the size of its staff to 2,800. Concurrent with this massive cutback, some of the billets at the new facility on Kuahua were shifted from military to civilian, allowing the Bureau of Personnel to reduce the military maintenance billets in Hawaii. Five hundred civilian workers from the shipyard, who otherwise would have lost their jobs, replaced 700 military workers.
In 1997, the Pacific Fleet and the Naval Sea Systems Command (headquarters for all naval shipyards) developed the concept of merging Pearl Harbor Naval Shipyard and the Intermediate Maintenance Activity into a single organization responsible for all maintenance on all ships in Pearl Harbor. The new command—Pearl Harbor Naval Shipyard and Intermediate Maintenance Facility—commenced operations on 30 April 1998.
All overhead functions such as planning and engineering, quality assurance, comptroller, occupational safety, health and environmental, and administration have been combined. In addition, the machine, shipfitter, and electrical shops; crane and rigging; and the calibration laboratory also were "singled-up."
The facility's predecessors had different information technology systems, quality processes, work control and work certification processes, and financial systems. Singular processes and systems were developed to facilitate the merger. See Figure 1.
Since 1994, the shipyard had used project management for its four main product lines—submarine depot maintenance periods, surface selected restricted availabilities, submarine drydocking selected restricted availabilities, and submarine inactivations. Two new project management teams, one for submarines and one for surface ships, replaced earlier organizations and became responsible for intermediate level ship work and emergency voyage repairs. This total project management process, combined with the singling-up of overhead functions and shops, is the backbone of the Pearl Pilot—and the future of Navy ship maintenance.
Doing all of this while continuing to process ongoing work was difficult, and we made mistakes. The good news is that we recognized the mistakes quickly and initiated actions to correct them. It took us about three relatively awkward months to get our customer satisfaction level up to where it had been prior to the merger. Now, they tell us that the service is even better than before.
Today, 4,008 people at this command service 38 ships. In the six years since Admiral Kelso's vision of the regional maintenance concept, a sequence of two mergers and an evolution of process improvements has enabled 55% of the original work force to maintain virtually the same number of ships.
The resource-allocation process, shown in Figure 2, puts workers where the work is every day. All workers belong to the resources department, which is the heart of the Pearl Pilot, and which allocates them to projects by their trade-skill designator at weekly meetings where project superintendents and resource superintendents negotiate requirements for workers for the next week. The workers return when their jobs on projects are finished. The inherent flexibility across all product lines optimizes response to fleet priorities and helps project superintendents minimize their project costs.
The new Pearl Pilot organizational structure is based on the standard for naval shipyards organization and modified by adding the two new project management teams and a deputy commander. The shipyard (2,680 civilians and 44 military) and intermediate maintenance facility (591 civilians and 712 military) populations were integrated completely to gain positive work-force synergy—a synergy created by military craftsmen learning journeyman-level trade skills from their civilian counterparts while bringing their operational experience, knowledge of ships' systems, enthusiasm, and a can-do spirit to the waterfront.
Six key systems and processes differed significantly in the two organizations. Resolving these differences required reengineering based upon best practices to provide the singular processes necessary for total work force integration:
- Information technology systems. The shipyard used the baseline advanced industrial management system, while the intermediate maintenance facility used the maintenance resource management system. A module from the shipyard program, the miscellaneous industrial management system (MIMS)—replaced that used by the intermediate facility. Today, six different legacy systems have been linked to support merger requirements.
- Financial systems. The shipyard was a Navy working capital fund organization, while the facility was mission funded by the Pacific Fleet. Mission funding was selected as the single financial system for the integrated Pearl Pilot.
- Work control. The shipyard work control process was compliant with Naval Sea Systems Command regulations, while the facility complied with the Joint Fleet Maintenance Manual's requirements. In order to maintain quick response to emergent fleet work, and maintain a higher level of control on the more complex depot availabilities, these separate systems were retained.
- Work certification and quality assurance. Shipyard quality control and work certification processes were judged superior in assuring product quality, and therefore applied across all product lines.
- Work induction and planning. To remain responsive to fleet requirements, fleet work is introduced at project management team sites for fleet maintenance availabilities. Complex depot work continues to be inducted through the business office. Availabilities are planned for all scheduled intermediate and depot maintenance periods in accordance with the following procedures: all material needed is kitted and staged; all user friendly, technically correct technical work document instructions are packaged and issued to the work teams; a realistic resource-leveled schedule for the work is issued for use; and work teams with the appropriately tailored trade skills are assembled and ready-to-work.
- Supply support. The shipyard and the Fleet Industrial Supply Center had a preexisting formal partnership wherein all normal supply functions were performed by the center, which already had absorbed the shipyard's supply department. The facility, on the other hand, had an internal supply department with a complex process for supporting the quick-turnaround intermediate-level and emergency voyage repair work. In the end, the center assumed all logistics support functions for the Pearl Pilot, necessitating significant process changes.
At times, the shipyards and the fleets have had an arms-length, sometimes adversarial customer-supplier relationship. In standing up the Pilot, the Naval Sea Systems Command (NavSea) and the Commander in Chief, U.S. Pacific Fleet (CinCPacFlt), agreed that NavSea would direct operations of the newly merged organization, and that the Pacific Fleet would fund and own it. Fleet ownership has resulted in a much closer relationship among the merged organization and the staffs and ships that it serves. There is a new spirit of teamwork and partnership among the Pearl Pilot, the home-ported fleet, and the fleet operational staffs.
Within the Pearl Harbor region, a new local board of directors convened to oversee the maintenance and modernization of the Pearl Harbor home-ported fleet. This board includes senior officers from all stakeholders and customers, as well as the Pearl Pilot. Consensus-based decisions concerning priorities, scheduling, funding, and actions to improve productivity and fleet support now are reached in a more collegial atmosphere.
The Fleet Maintenance Activity project teams are co-located with their respective operating force maintenance staffs. Continuous personal contact between the people responsible for the material condition of the ships and the people responsible for executing ship repairs and modernization has broken down the customer-supplier relationships of the past, resulting in a focused partnership.
The intermediate facility was only three years old at the time of the merger, and did not have a formal strategic plan. The 1996 reduction in force left the shipyard struggling to execute assigned work and frequently operating in a crisis-management mode.
A small cross-functional group was carefully selected to become the new Executive Steering Committee and develop a unified, integrated vision and plan. This group, established prior to the merger, included representatives from the Metal Trades Council, the Federal Managers Association, the National Association of Superintendents, the Command Master Chief, and the Intermediate Maintenance Facility. They gathered extensive data from previous outside audits, customer feedback from fleet, type commanders, and ships and conducted honest and open self-assessments. Within two weeks, the committee had developed a new strategic plan for the combined activity.
Firmly grounded in regional maintenance philosophy, the plan includes unified mission and vision statements; establishes quantifiable targets for customer satisfaction, cost reduction, and productivity; focuses on the key issues that require significant process improvement to achieve the targets; and establishes command committees to achieve stated objectives in union/management partnership, human resources and staffing, financial control, safety and health, environmental compliance, training, leadership, and facilities and tooling. The plan, used continuously for framework and focus, has been revised three times within the year since the merger to keep it on the right course.
Challenges remain, but the course is set. The concept is sound and the military-civilian team members are executing the concept with the knowledge that they are shaping the future of Navy ship maintenance.
Captain Conners, an engineering duty officer, commands the Pearl Harbor Naval Shipyard and Intermediate Maintenance Facility, Oahu, Hawaii. A former surface warfare officer, he served on board the USS Ramsey (FFG-2) during the Vietnam War.
Operational Intelligence: Lessons from the Cold War
By Rear Admiral L. E. Jacoby, U.S. Navy
In September 1998, a group of active duty and retired Naval Intelligence professionals ranging from petty officer second class to admiral gathered at the Navy and Marine Corps Intelligence Training Center, Dam Neck, Virginia, to assess the lessons from the Cold War.
Prominent operational commanders, some with experience dating to World War II, attended, as did six former Directors of Naval Intelligence (DNIs). Among the participants: Rear Admiral Maurice Rindskopf, retired, World War II Navy Cross submariner and a former Deputy DNI; Vice Admiral David Richardson, retired, former Commander Sixth Fleet and Deputy Commander-in-- Chief Pacific Fleet; Admiral William Small, former Vice Chief of Naval Operations and Commander-in-Chief U.S. Naval Forces Europe; Vice Admiral Mike McConnell, retired, former Director, National Security Agency; and Vice Admiral Edmund Giambastiani, Commander Submarines Atlantic.
These attendees represented all who took a system designed during World War II to track German submarines and adapted it to meet the challenge of tracking the Soviet Navy. Operational intelligence, in general terms, is the art of providing near-real-time information concerning the location, activity, and likely intentions of potential adversaries. Trained intelligence professionals fuse and analyze information from all available sources. It is the emphasis upon timely warfighter support that distinguishes operational intelligence from other varieties: the analysis of strategy, doctrine, leadership, or equipment.
Operational intelligence had its origins in World War II, with the development of intelligence watch floors by the British and American navies for centralized analysis and rapid dissemination of intelligence on German and, later, Japanese naval activity. Initially, practitioners relied heavily upon highly sensitive communications intelligence, such as the famous ULTRA, to ascertain the location and activity of German U-boats. Gradually, however, wartime operational intelligence expanded its focus and range of sources.
After a post-World War II lapse, the U.S. Navy rediscovered operational intelligence with the emergence of U.S.-Soviet rivalries during the Cold War. The Korean War drew attention to the threats posed by the Communist bloc, and Moscow's development of a submarine fleet capable of increasing out-of-area operations provided a renewed appreciation for the subject. The Navy's operational intelligence capabilities grew in response to these new naval challenges.
Though the concept knows no service boundaries—and is today being practiced on joint-service watch floors from the Joint Intelligence Center, Pacific, in Hawaii to the Joint Analysis Center, Molesworth, near London—it really began as a naval art. Conference participants concluded that the naval environment itself provided strong incentives for development. While our other services faced the Soviets across various borders, only the Navy maneuvered against them in an everyday operational context of what was essentially war at sea minus the shooting. For those who lived on board their weapons platforms in such an environment, operational intelligence acquired a special urgency.
The all-source fusion aspects became increasingly complex, especially with the advent of automated data processing and the deployment of underwater hydrophone networks in the 1960s. This led to the creation of a global surveillance network, the Ocean Surveillance Information System (OSIS), which consisted of a series of regional fusion-analysis nodes and emphasized near-real-time support for Navy operators. Technology, in short, gradually enabled operational intelligence to assume an ever more sophisticated operational reality.
By the mid-1970s, the stage was set for some revolutionary developments in Naval Intelligence. Investment in unique, risky, and still highly classified collection projects began to pay off by giving us a much richer understanding of our Soviet adversary. Deep penetration of the their navy helped us understand that their admirals actually thought and behaved quite differently than previously believed. This realization, in turn, helped drive the wholesale revision of U.S. naval doctrine.
Although no two-day conference could hope to explore all these issues fully, a few points stand out.
The process. OSIS was as much a process as it was a specific organizational and technological system. It was a way of approaching operational intelligence for the warfighter. Initially, data processing and communications technology limited its potential. As a refinement of the idea of operational intelligence, however, OSIS had enormous vitality. Ultimately, all our military branches learned a great deal from the Navy's experience, and the concept thrives on our joint watch floors today.
All-source fusion. The entire concept hinges on providing intelligence based upon every available source of information. Combined with the task of disseminating products to the fleet as rapidly as possible, the fusion process places huge demands upon communications architectures. It also challenges the sanitization process through which information from extremely sensitive sources is provided to those not possessing special security clearances. In this age of Cable News Network and the Microsoft National Broadcasting Company (MSNBC), "all-source" fusion must include open-- source information.
Remembering analysis. No matter how good the communications and how large the data bases, there is no substitute for analysis. The value added by trained specialists capable of discerning how the enemy thinks and understanding him through his own eyes is incalculable. Collecting raw data is crucial to the operational intelligence process, but it is the thought process that makes this information really useful.
Too much emphasis upon pumping raw information directly from "sensor to shooter," in fact, can be confusing and dangerous. To borrow Vice Admiral McConnell's colorful phrase, "B.S. at the speed of light is still B.S." Rather than supplying as much information as possible, the true measure of success is providing as little information as possible—that is, only the right information at the right time. Operational intelligence is more than speedy, technology-driven collection and transmission. The crucial element is thought, and this can be accomplished only by people.
Preserving balance between collection and analysis will be a major challenge in the fast-paced, information-flooded battlespace of the next century. To paraphrase another participant, how are we to continue to provide good analysis in future wars that resemble the continuous, integrated movement of soccer more than the set-piece plays of football?
Close ties to the operators. One point made repeatedly concerned the paramount importance of cultivating close relationships of understanding, respect, and trust between intelligence professionals and their operational customers. The Navy traditionally has been good at this, because its operators and intelligence professionals share the same floating environment and operate in it, side by side, day in and day out. The real challenge is to maintain these close relationships and to build equally good ones in a joint environment.
Intelligence professionals need to become experts on friendly as well as potential enemy forces. They need an intimate understanding of the needs of their customer as well as a detailed knowledge of the adversary, and they must speak the language of operations. In short, it is vital for an intelligence professional to penetrate not just the enemy but also the customer.
By the same token, operators must have a good understanding of the nature, potential, and limitations of intelligence. This may require considerable effort and outreach on their part. It also means that intelligence professionals must be evangelists for their craft—preaching the gospel of intelligence to the operational community.
Upon such a foundation of mutual trust great things can be built. Without it, for example, the intelligence triumphs of the late 1970s and early 1980s could not have transformed Navy doctrine in the Maritime Strategy. Naval Intelligence certainly benefited enormously from its penetrations of the Soviet adversary. The really crucial element in this revolution, however, was that intelligence officials were able to take their case to operators who trusted them and who were both willing and able to make fundamental changes in U.S. plans based upon the new information.
The role of technology. The high-technology, computerized systems of modern operational intelligence originated in a semi-automated means of identifying and tracking merchant shipping. Crude by modern standards, this early system nonetheless enabled the Navy to lay the conceptual and organizational foundation for a sophisticated operational intelligence system. Revolutions in capabilities occurred as technological tools gradually became available, and as it became possible to provide information to operators more rapidly.
Conference participants emphasized that despite the importance of modern data-processing and communications equipment, the key innovations that made operational intelligence possible did not have to do specifically with hardware. Rather, the real advances occurred in establishing the system into which new hardware was integrated—that is, in the realm of organization. In other words, operational intelligence prospered as technologies matured because a sound foundation had been laid first. This suggests an important lesson for applying new technologies to intelligence: strive to automate not what you do now—but what you want to be able to do.
Intelligence and cryptology. From the early postwar period when a small group of analysts was attached to Naval Security Group headquarters in Washington, D.C., Navy operational intelligence gained a great deal from its close relationship with the cryptologic community. Collocation of all-source analysts and cryptologists, for example, laid the foundation for years of invaluable work by the Navy Field Operational Intelligence Office at Fort Meade, Maryland. Such colocation was vital in the various Ocean Surveillance Information System nodes, where Cryptologic Support Group and Navy operational intelligence analytic staffs worked so closely together that they were nearly indistinguishable.
The importance of people. Operational intelligence was created from scratch and out of necessity, under pressure from events during World War II and the Cold War. The OSIS concept, however, was an idea without a clear genealogy. It occurred to different people at about the same time because of the demands of circumstances.
No "master plan" for operational intelligence was developed; it probably could not have been done because of the dynamic aspects of the problem. The high-quality, dedicated people already in the program were able to thrive in such a changing environment by virtue of creative flexibility and on-the-job training. People were the most important element.
This lesson bears special emphasis today, when we face shifting, nontraditional threats that can lack the Cold War sense of urgency and purpose that for many years helped motivate and retain first-rate intelligence professionals.
Transition and evolution. Operational intelligence was designed to focus upon the threat posed by a single, enormously powerful naval adversary. Today's threats are forcing our increasingly joint system to be even more innovative and flexible. This requires more breadth and greater depth of coverage than ever before. It spreads resources thinly, creates difficulties in long-range planning, and makes setting priorities difficult. The challenge today is to adapt to these new circumstances without abandoning the core operational intelligence philosophy.
These eight points just scratch the surface of the September conference. They illustrate, however, the historical richness of the operational intelligence legacy, and its challenges and great potential in the future. Indeed, the conference suggests what may be the most important lesson of all, by reminding us that how well an organization learns from its past is a crucial index of its capacity to survive challenges in the future.
Thanks to the talents and dedication of thousands of Naval Intelligence personnel—with invaluable help from these lessons learned—I believe we are moving forward along the difficult road to future joint successes.
Rear Admiral Jacoby, the Director of Intelligence J-2 for the Joint Chiefs of Staff, was the 57th Director of Naval Intelligence. Lieutenant Christopher Ford, U.S. Naval Reserve, Commander David A. Rosenberg, U.S. Naval Reserve, and the personnel of Naval Reserve unit ONI-0766 assisted in preparing this article.
Give the 'Gators Sharper Teeth
By Lieutenant Scott A. Carpenter, U.S. Navy
Amphibious ready group commanders usually operate as quasi-composite warfare commanders because of limitations in surface and undersea warfare assets. Their sensors are limited to shipboard surface-search radars and visual detections made by embarked U.S. Marine Corps aircraft. Their surface and undersea warfare weapons postures are "None." If protection is needed, the battle group commander must commit cruisers or destroyers to defend the 'Gators.
Although a dedicated cruiser or destroyer would be ideal, the reality of dedicated surface combatants for an amphibious ready group (ARG) remains impractical. What he needs—and can hope to acquire—on a regular basis, is the type of support an embarked SH-60B LAMPS HI can provide. Only then will the commander, his staff, and assigned units be able to develop tactics to support the unique nature of their operations. Interestingly, LAMPS IIIs already have demonstrated the capability to integrate fully with the Marine Expeditionary Unit (Special Operations Capable) concept of operations.
Within the next five to ten years, theater ballistic missile defenses, network-- centric combat, extended range guided munitions, and land-attack missiles will redefine the surface combatants' operating region. Future improvements to landing force equipment and ship-to-objective maneuver dictate that tomorrow's amphibious objective areas will span more than 100 nautical miles of coastline with a line of departure 15 miles at sea. This joint operating environment demands new methodology for employing our combat assets. Using LAMPS IIIs to provide dedicated surface and undersea warfare support to the ARGs will release surface combatants to maneuver while providing area defense and strike support.
The Seahawk is a proven platform for break-in/breakout, choke-point patrolling, and sea surveillance and coordination in the littorals. Its 125-nautical-mile combat radius, on-station endurance, and airborne systems can provide radar tracking, identification friend or foe (IFF), acoustic, and electronic support measure (ESM) information for building a surface summary plot. With more than one aircraft available, a continuous surface picture can be maintained throughout the entire operating region. The LAMPS III data link can net with any nearby surface combatant to provide real-time situational awareness to an entire battle group.
The advantages of the ARG/LAMPS III combination is evident when you consider that Flight-1 Arleigh Burke (DDG-51)-class guided-missile destroyers do not embark a helicopter. In 1996, the USS Theodore Roosevelt (CVN-71) embarked a LAMPS III for tactical employment by the USS Ramage (DDG-61) during an exercise. The Ramage provided fuel, sonobuoys, and command-and-control communications for the helicopter. As a result, the officer-in-tactical command was able to employ all LAMPS III-capable ships, thus enhancing total surveillance volume.
The Seahawk can operate autonomously from amphibious assault ships (LHAs/LHDs) and provide extended surveillance, over-the-horizon tracking, and surface and undersea warfare weapons delivery. Its ability to transition quickly from surveillance to localization and attack is ideal in the littorals. Armed with AGM-119B Penguin antiship missiles, a LAMPS III can engage surface threats independently or as part of multiplatform attack tactics.
LAMPS IIIs also carry AGM-114B Hellfire air-to-surface guided missiles; during Joint Fleet Exercise 98-1, a LAMPS III successfully fired a Hellfire against a moving seaborne target. The missile's warhead is designed for armored targets and is ideal for limited strike against coastal targets and fast moving patrol craft. All in all, a LAMPS III is a true force multiplier for the amphibious ready group commander.
Embarking a LAMPS III on an LHA or LHD would be a win-win proposition for both the Navy and the Marine Corps. During Composite Training Unit Exercise 96-4, LAMPS IIIs embarked on the USS Tarawa (LHA-1) conducted integrated operations in support of MEU(SOC) forces. The helicopter's tactical advantages were immediately obvious and it became an essential part of every mission commander's plan. In some cases, commanders even valued the LAMPS III over Marine Corps aircraft. LAMPS IIIs successfully demonstrated night vision goggles (NVGs), radar, and discrete IFF tracking capabilities during raids, maritime interception/visit, board, search, and secure operations, and hostage-rescue missions.
A LAMPS III was the preferred sniper platform during a nighttime visit, board, search, and secure assault. On other missions, a LAMPS III air crew was able to vector Marine Corps AH-1W Cobras against hostile fast patrol boats and simultaneously monitor mission progress. The helicopter clearly proved itself a viable command-and-control platform able to support the MEU(SOC) mission, day or night.
The helicopter's greatest contribution to amphibious operations is its capability to provide extended over-the-horizon tracking. As the Navy pursues over-the-- horizon launches for air-cushion landing craft (LCACs) and ship-to-objective maneuver, the LAMPS III is the most capable command-and-control platform available. When designated, the air crew can function as a stand-alone controller or a communication relay between the assault craft and an afloat or shore-based headquarters.
An automated capability could provide a far distant surface combatant with vital spotter information for long-range naval surface fire support missions. An airborne platform can maintain the complete surface picture and assist the boat wave commander in controlling traffic to the beach. In addition, the LAMPS III's ESM capability can be used to detect and identify hostile activity. Many coordination difficulties could be resolved by back-fitting LHAs and LHDs with a version of the HawkLink system. Regardless of whether an SH-60B is embarked on an LHA or a surface combatant, it can provide the Commander Amphibious Task Force and Commander Landing Force with real-time situational awareness—and still function as a surface and undersea warfare weapons delivery platform.
Although operating a LAMPS III from an LHA or LHD is certainly possible, embarking the aircraft for an extended period would require more planning. Obviously the additional aircraft must complement the Marines' aviation combat element's aircraft as far as deck space, crew berthing, ordnance support, and maintenance. In 1996, a LAMPS III crew operating from the USS Belleau Wood (LHA-3) identified some minor shortcomings. These included: deck crew training, the requirement for a 24-foot tow bar, and development of LAMPS III wind envelopes for the LHA. With more frequent operations, new tactics for integrating the Seahawk into amphibious operations can be developed. A LAMPS III could embark easily on amphibious transport dock (LPD)-class ships and still fully support the amphibious mission. Further evaluations may produce sufficient data to support full installation of the HawkLink system on LHAs and LHDs or the future San Antonio (LPD-17)-class ships.
The 21st century is upon us. We must develop new ways of integrated operation using this superior aircraft. Although this concept is not new, it needs to be expanded upon. Future Seahawk developments include a forward-looking infrared (FLIR) system to provide standoff target designation capability for weapons launched from attack aircraft. The SH-60B LAMPS III has already proven itself a force multiplier for the amphibious mission. As tomorrow's extended-- range weapons and over-the-horizon landing capability displace our combat assets over hundreds of miles, the LAMPS His can provide localized littoral coverage and bridge the gap between amphibious ready groups and other battle groups and joint forces.
Lieutenant Carpenter, a Surface Warfare Officer, is an instructor in the Seamanship and Navigation Department at the U.S. Naval Academy. He has served as Combat Information Center Officer and Damage Control Assistant Operations and Plans Officer and Supporting Arms Coordinator for Amphibious Squadron Eleven on board the USS Belleau Wood (LHA-3).
The USCGC Marlin: A Very Tough Fish
By Major Robert Macomber, Lee County Florida Sheriff’s Office
In April 1999, I was assigned on temporary duty to the USCGC Marlin (WPB-87304) for an off-shore patrol operation. As a law enforcement officer, I had served alongside the U.S. Coast Guard in many operations. As an amateur naval historian, I was looking forward to comparing one of the Coast Guard's new 87-foot cutters with its predecessors, the 82-foot "Point-class" cutters (particularly the Point Steele [WPB-82359], which I knew well).
I had toured the Marlin pierside, and had come away impressed. I wanted to see how everything actually would work at sea.
The plan was to patrol out from the station at Ft. Myers Beach, on the southwest coast of Florida, moving in a southerly course away from the coast until near the southern boundary of the operating area, and then move east to the coast and cruise north on the return. The mission was fisheries protection along and inside a "No shrimp trawl zone" that was set up to protect the crab fishery. In years past, encroachment by shrimpers into crabber areas had led to serious gunfire incidents between the two groups. And, of course, we were to handle everything else the Coast Guard handles if anything came up along the way.
As we got under way and proceeded out of the busy harbor, I was impressed by the spaciousness and practicality of the bridge. The bridge watch team could do its work with room to move and the ability to see 360. The easily viewed electronics were another major improvement. And then there was the improvement that only someone familiar with the temperatures along this coast could appreciate: the bridge was air-conditioned. Whoever designed that has the thanks of many a Coast Guardsman.
The ship headed offshore at 25 knots. She was not just a dock queen; she handled beautifully with her non-traditional stick tiller. All primary engine functions and sensors were on the bridge, which enabled the officer of the deck to monitor the functions of the entire ship. Down on the main deck, the Marlin was stable and dry. As I stood looking at her well deck with its rigid inflatable boat (actually, it is closed cell foam), I thought what a great idea it was and wondered how it would really work in practice. I soon found out.
About an hour later, the call went out for the boarding crew to assemble on the main deck. One of my functions was to assist on the boarding crew and so I dutifully assembled. Machinery Technician Second Class Tim Galloway was the officer-in-charge of the boarding crew and I listened as this Coast Guard veteran briefed his boat crew on rules and procedures.
Launching a small boat through a well deck set in the stern is a new experience for the Coast Guard. As I got ready to board in the well deck, I watched as a large door in the transom opened up and forward over the boat. With all six crew members on board, wearing crash helmets, and holding on tight, the signal was given to the launch detail to release the boat. Whack. The sharp noise was the sound of the restraining shackle opening and the next thing I knew we were sliding aft down the inclined well deck, through the transom, and into the sea. Within five seconds of the shackle's release the boat's 100-horsepower Yanmar diesel had come to life and we were under way. Stern launchings can be done with the cutter underway or drifting. What a huge difference when compared to launching a boat suspended from a swaying boom as we had to do on the Point Steele.
Another change for the better did not become apparent until we went alongside a shrimp boat for the first of several boardings of the day: the boat had a squared-off pram bow that allowed it to be positioned bow-to-hull of the vessel boarded in good weather. It made scrambling up the hull of the shrimp boat safer and faster.
Once on the shrimper's main deck, two Coast Guardsmen remained aft to provide security while the rest moved forward with Galloway to wake up the crew. (Shrimpers normally anchor and sleep during the day because they work all night.) The Coast Guardsmen treated all on board with respect and called the master "Captain" whenever they spoke to him. The crew was separated from the master and led aft. Many times the crews are Hispanic and speak little or no English; Galloway spoke fluent Spanish so this was never a problem.
The boarding party first conducted a safety inspection of the vessel. Next came a fishery inspection, with descents into the holds. The Coast Guardsmen who do this really earn their pay. In addition to overcoming the obvious odor obstacles and the frigid air, they also have to be able to recognize various kinds of fish presented to them in various physical forms. No matter whether the fish is gutted, headed, filleted, steaked, or stripped, the Coast Guardsman had better be sure of the identification because legal consequences can follow his decision.
The boarding took about an hour to complete. It was an average boarding, one in which everything that could be known about the vessel was documented. When we left the shrimper, her crew knew that we knew all about them, and I believe that knowledge provides a sense of deterrence for any future temptations to cross the legal line. I was very impressed to see the positive professional attitude of the Coast Guardsmen toward the shrimpers. More than one captain told us that he appreciated the professionalism, and that he had not experienced it with other agencies on other coasts.
As the day progressed, the crew was drilled on boat-launching and recovery techniques, with different crew members doing different duties each time. This process is so new that boat crews are learning each time. Even though it is obviously safer than a boomed-out launch, it is a bit tricky. Coming back aboard into the well was like shooting the bull's-eye in the transom: do it right and you are a hero—do it wrong and you are an object lesson.
Dinner that evening prepared by the ship's cook on the mess deck was a great meal. The galley facilities on this cutter are very good. Mess arrangements were comfortable. The berthing spaces areas allow privacy and are more comfortable than those of the old "Point"-class cutters. It appeared that this ship was designed for people to live and work in, not just survive—what a morale builder!
That night I stayed with the bridge watch for a while as we moved through the southeastern Gulf of Mexico looking for fishery violators or anything suspicious. In this part of the world, you never know for sure what you will find. The officer of the deck was maintaining tracks on five vessels at once in our immediate area. The radar's ability to track and prioritize up to 85 targets was an outstanding addition to the Global Positioning System (GPS) plotter and is a substantial improvement over the older cutter bridge electronics.
Throughout the night a couple of alarms came to naught, and at 0530 the next morning the bridge watch was still tracking vessels along the coast, 100 miles north of our position at sunset the night before. After breakfast the call came again for the boarding crew. On this last of seven boardings on the patrol, we found more fishery violations. Communications with the federal fishery office ashore were good and proved invaluable in the decision-making that involves so many variables.
That done, the ship turned south again along the islands off the coast and headed home. By 1400, we were in the harbor channel approaching our pier 32 hours after we had left. During that time we had steamed approximately 260 miles offshore and along the coast, boarded seven vessels, closely checked out many more visually, found two vessels with major fishery violations (one of which led to even more fishery violation discoveries when she made port at the end of her cruise), found one vessel with intelligence useful to my agency, and provided a very credible deterrent to drug smugglers along the southeastern Gulf of Mexico.
After she was secured alongside, I stood on the bridge with Lieutenant (junior grade) George C. Bobb, the Marlin's skipper, as be watched his crew making up the pier utility connections. Not only was the ship herself an impressive work of modern design and building, her crew was one of the most cohesive and positive I had ever seen. They were all drilled in functions outside their specialties and did them well. I remarked to the skipper that it certainly appeared to be a great tour of duty. He grinned and replied that he couldn't imagine a better one.
His words reminded me of the old beached sea-captain's lament as he gazed heavenward and implored: "Lord, give me a good ship, a good crew, and a worthy cause." Bobb had all three, and he knew it.
Major Robert Macomber commands the Criminal Investigation Office of the Lee County, Florida Sheriff’s Office, where he focuses on special operations and narcotics trafficking.