Overconfidence Can Be Crushing
By Captain Steve J. Coughlin, U.S. Navy
Every once in a while, we get a grim reminder that there is no tenure in the business of operating ships at sea. Resting on the laurels of past success can breed a sense of daring that can lead to
catastrophe. This was evident in 2012 when a deployed destroyer suffered a collision at sea with a fully laden supertanker. Thankfully, nobody was injured when the 160,000-ton vessel wreaked havoc and over $75 million worth of damage was inflicted on a warship caught in the unenviable position of “in extremis.” This case demonstrates how easily disaster can be avoided by strict compliance with the nautical Rules of the Road and how command climate can restrict decision-making on the bridge, which costs valuable time when every second counts. This story must be told, but to respect the privacy of those involved, the name of the ship is being withheld from this discussion. Regardless, the learning points are tremendously relevant.
These are not new lessons; they are just relearned the hard way. And after a thorough review of the facts, there is little doubt about who was culpable and who was placed in an untenable position. As a learning organization, we must study past misfortunes to move into the future with greater knowledge and awareness about how to avoid the inherent perils of the sea and the all-too-often self-inflicted wounds.
Dangerous Disposition
Human dynamics on the bridge of a destroyer can be complex. Sometimes the mix of personalities complements the overall effort. Other times quite the opposite is true. However, it is clear that many intangible factors can influence how the bridge team performs. In this scenario, the officer of the deck (OOD) faced the challenge of transiting the Strait of Hormuz at night, in heavy traffic, and in company with another warship. But he was also contending with a command climate that did not allow him to take any action without explicit permission from the commanding officer. This inhibited his actions and ultimately caused the collision.
There was also a self-created “destroyer mentality” that devalued the factors for determining a safe speed. The nautical Rules of the Road were discounted, and an overconfident tone developed barriers to communication, coordination, and decisiveness on the bridge. For the 12 minutes before impact, it was unclear who had the deck because of the accelerating pace of events and confusion over who had the authority to issue standard commands to the helmsman. Ultimately, the dysfunction on the bridge drove this destroyer right into the port side of another ship.
All of this could have been prevented. Indications were everywhere, such as instances of the ship driving uncomfortably close alongside another vessel during replenishment at sea, a near miss with another merchant earlier in the deployment, and the executive officer from another ship expressing concerns to his counterpart about driving too close during small-boat transfers. As professional mariners, the department heads approached the chain of command about what they thought to be unsafe habits. Regardless of these concerns, no policies or practices were changed.
Reckless Driving
With the majority of the passage behind them, the destroyer’s captain left the bridge for a brief period before being called back by the OOD. The formation was moving at 20 knots through an area in which traffic density seemed to be increasing. The surface picture was confusing, with fishing vessels and other small craft in close proximity passing within a half mile. Thus the captain’s presence on the bridge was deemed necessary to sort things out. The OOD’s initial report stated that there was a vessel on his starboard bow with right-bearing drift and a closest point of approach (CPA) of 150 yards on the starboard beam. It was two miles away and showed a port side light and two all-around red lights in a vertical line. This was a group-three merchant vessel, not under command, making about ten knots through the water.
According to the official command investigation that took place after the collision, another merchant vessel was on the port bow at slightly greater range with left-bearing drift and a CPA of just under 200 yards on the port beam, also showing a portside light. At this point, the OOD requested permission to slow to what he thought was a safe speed. He was told “negative.” The OOD was certain that “risk of collision” existed and he was required to “slacken speed” so that he could “allow more time to assess the situation” to avoid that dreadful possibility. At this point, the captain directed the OOD to come left and split the two merchant vessels down the middle, leaving CPAs to both at slightly over 100 yards on either side.
This concerned the OOD in three ways: First, as the give-way vessel in a crossing situation, he was fully aware that it was his responsibility to “keep out of the way and shall, if the circumstances of the case admit, avoid crossing ahead of the other vessel.” Second, he wanted to “take early and substantial action to keep well clear.” The vessels were now less than a mile away, and he felt that he was going too fast and coming left would not keep him “well clear.” With adequate sea room on the starboard side, the obvious question was why not just slow down and/or come right? Third, he knew that he should “keep out of the way of a vessel not under command” and he did not think a 100-yard CPA satisfied that requirement.
As the three vessels converged, the starboard-side CPA became so close that once the merchant ship was on the destroyer’s beam, the OOD ordered right full rudder and flank speed to kick the destroyer’s stern away from the contact. This was an act of desperation. In contrast, the CO on the starboard bridgewing felt comfortable with this situation. Wondering why his ship was accelerating and turning hard right, he entered the pilot house and lectured the OOD about where to position the conning officer and how to read this situation. While he did this, the OOD reported another large vessel on the starboard bow with a portside light, one mile away, with a very close CPA on the bow. At this point the OOD requested to continue to the right and slow down. The captain granted permission to slow to five knots but directed the ship to come back to the left and cross in front of the oncoming vessel.
While approaching one another at a closing speed of just under 30 knots (with the destroyer decelerating) at a distance of about a half mile, the OOD asked to continue left to a reciprocal course to avoid collision. This was a despondent attempt to balance misdirection with collision avoidance. The captain’s reply was “steady as she goes.” Next was probably the most painful 30 seconds that any bridge watchstander could experience. As it quickly became obvious that these ships were getting too close, the captain ordered left full rudder and five short blasts. But the destroyer was slowing to five knots and all that rudder slowed her even further, which put her in a very vulnerable position. The captain subsequently ordered another five short blasts, hard left rudder, and flank speed. But it was too late; the next command on the bridge was “brace for shock.”
Costly Miscalculation
This catastrophe, while unintended, had enormous consequences and second-order effects. The costs of repair work alone were on the magnitude of restoring the USS Cole (DDG-67) to her original condition after the October 2000 bombing in the Middle East. The Navy simply doesn’t have the extra money to spare in its maintenance accounts. Consequently, some amount of scheduled ship maintenance was not completed in the surface force. And there was also the cost to global force management. This accident was a complete mission-kill. With barely any surge capacity in the surface force, the Fleet commander was left with one less surface combatant to execute his lines of operations. At the same time, the Navy was compelled to relearn the fundamental importance of complying with the nautical Rules of the Road. That is obvious.
But what is not always obvious is when shipboard leadership slips into a mindset of skipping steps and cutting corners because of an ill-conceived sense of importance, self-induced operational urgency, and an inflated opinion of maritime skill. Few combinations are more detrimental to safe navigation. Naval mariners must heed this call and pay attention to the culture. If something seems wrong, it probably is. Shipboard leaders must recognize the signs, imagine the worst, and have the moral courage to break the proverbial link in the error chain of events, regardless of where the problem lies. Otherwise, the circumstances could be deadly; we were lucky this time.
Battlespace on Demand: Data to Decision
By Commander Douglas T. Wahl, U.S. Navy, and Thomas E. Crew
On 5 June 1944 General Dwight Eisenhower, Supreme Commander of Allied Forces in Europe, faced arguably the most critical decision of World War II: to postpone Operation Neptune—the code name for the amphibious assault phase of Operation Overlord, and the largest amphibious invasion in history—or proceed under marginal conditions. This decision was based almost entirely on meteorology and oceanography. Bad weather had already resulted in a one-day suspension of operations. Another such delay would necessitate waiting two weeks for acceptable tidal conditions to reoccur, which would likely result in the Germans detecting the massive mobilization, impending invasion, and possibly the Allies’ strategy of landing at low tide instead of the high tide landings they were anticipating. Eisenhower relied on a small staff of military meteorologists compiling weather observations from scattered weather stations and ships at sea in the North Atlantic. Their accurate forecast of a break in the weather on 6 June 1944 facilitated the complete surprise on D-Day of the German forces whose own forecast predicted such an invasion was impossible.
After more than seven decades, Operation Neptune still stands as a hallmark lesson on the critical reliance of military operations on environmental forecasts. As technological advances continue to drive the evolution of doctrine and development of weapon systems, the fundamental challenges of operating in a complex physical environment remain the same. Advances in environmental sensing, numerical modeling, data fusion, and computing are yielding increasingly accurate forecasts. Satellites, distributed sensors, immense databases, and super computers have replaced the World War II-era scientists working with pen and paper.
The ‘BonD’ Construct
To put these advances to better use, the Naval Meteorology and Oceanography Command developed the Battlespace on Demand (BonD) construct, which is based on a pyramid structure in which the movement up the pyramid to each higher tier represents a logical step in the decision process. The base of the pyramid, Tier 0, symbolizes the collection of the full span of environmental data required to produce the environment predictions for Tier 1. Application of these in turn yield the sensor or system performance characteristics needed for Tier 2 and the determination of the environmental impacts on operations. Finally, Tier 3, the decision layer, provides the knowledge to support fully informed decisions by the mission planners and operational commanders.
To prepare for D-Day, underwater demolition teams deployed from mini-submarines to collect environmental data on the proposed landing beaches. These data were then transported to a central location for interpretation by military oceanographers and meteorologists and then merged into the paper products/charts that proved critical to the success of the landings.
Today a similar operation would likely employ SEAL delivery vehicles deployed from a submarine The full consideration for oceanographic and atmospheric forecasts, utilizing the BonD construct, informs the choices of timing, route, and equipment. Observational data feeding numerical models forecast the impacts of currents, waves, tides, weather, and the chances for mission success through the resulting increase in system performance. The decisions produced by this data to decision continuum minimize the possibility of that single, often small negative event that seems unimaginable at the time, but that history shows can be the tipping point for catastrophe. With the increased reliance on technology and small-scale operations, the vulnerability to even a minor negative event is increasing.
Failures and Successes
One such catastrophe that may have been prevented by adherence to the BonD concept was Operation Eagle Claw, the attempted rescue of the Iranian hostages in Tehran in 1980 often referred to as Desert One. Air Force weather experts supporting the mission, relying heavily on daylight satellite imagery and modeled data, forecast the route weather conditions as favorable with the caveat of a potential for suspended dust clouds. This information did not reach the pilots, who encountered near-zero visibility during low-level flight operations. A series of unfortunate events then resulted: the loss of seven aircraft (two destroyed and five abandoned), eight deaths, and a mission failure that damaged the credibility of President Jimmy Carter, who seven months later lost his bid for reelection. The post-mission investigation concluded that low-visibility was a major factor in the mission’s failure and insufficient weather observations (BonD Tier 0) existed for accurate nighttime forecasting. Although the Air Force weatherman forecast the possibility of dust storms, this information and its impacts did not reach the mission planners, a critical aspect of BonD Tier 3.
A more recent and successful example of the application of the BonD construct took place in Afghanistan when U.S. Naval Special Warfare Forces were tasked to capture/kill a high-value target (HVT) based on intelligence that the HVT would be at a certain location for five to seven days. Three days prior to the launch of the mission, a low-pressure system developed north of the target area, producing scattered rain, low cloud cover, high winds, and blowing dust. The embedded Naval Oceanography Special Warfare Center forecaster predicted that this system would pass in the next 24 hours, and the dust would settle within 36 hours. This information was provided to the on-scene commander, who took the forecaster’s recommendation, delayed the operation two days, and was able to capture the HVT without suffering any losses.
Despite the lessons of history, the contributions of meteorology and oceanography are still often misunderstood or downplayed. The notion that the environment is the same for both blue and red forces and therefore irrelevant can lead to a diminished consideration of the physical environment during systems development. Yet an even more common challenge is that when acquisition programs experience seemingly inevitable cost overruns, physical environmental considerations are often cut in a capability-for-cost tradeoff. Missing from this line of reasoning is that innovations in environmental characterization will yield warfighting advantages in both detection and avoidance on the modern battlefield, where advances in technology have placed and rapidly increased the premium on time and distance. Beyond the easy-to-grasp D-Day analogy lay a number of environmental applications that offer much promise to innovators. Enhanced sensing and modeling of the physical structure of the ocean and atmosphere will lead to improvements in acoustics, electromagnetic, and electro-optical propagation spanning the full breadth of warfighting disciplines.
Perhaps even more promising is the application of the BonD construct to unmanned systems that have inherent operating limits due to the physical environment. Being smaller in size and without the intuitive seat-of-the-pants benefits of having a person on-scene in direct control, these systems are highly vulnerable to sudden changes in their operating environment. But if unmanned systems became environmental sensing platforms, they would also provide precise measurements in non-permissive environments and thus create a positive feedback cycle in understanding the battlespace. By more fully comprehending the physical environment and integrating the resulting data into a commanders’ decision space, our forces can gain the homefield advantage at the away games.
General Eisenhower’s combination of foresight and reliance on primitive yet thorough environmental forecasting, consistent with the BonD construct, provides a powerful historical lesson when compared against subsequent failures. Gone are the grease-pencil recordings and wall charts of 1944. In their place are immense observational networks, computer-generated environmental forecasts, and performance surfaces that provide operational commanders the battlespace awareness that addresses a goal that has remained unchanged through the ages: military success at the lowest cost.
The Case for Midshipmen Summer Training
By Lieutenant Joseph Testa, U.S. Navy
Each summer, the U.S. government flies college students around the world to experience life in the Navy through midshipmen cruises and summer training. But not everyone is convinced of the program’s value. Running mates complain about having to deal with “college kids” while also completing maintenance, standing watch, and working on qualifications. In the wardroom, some officers complain that the program is a “waste of money.” However, when done well, the midshipmen summer training program is an invaluable tool—especially for surface warfare recruitment.
According to the Midshipmen Summer Handbook, the objective of summer training is to further the professional development of midshipmen by “introducing them to the operational Navy and Marine Corps . . . and inclining them toward careers in the naval service.” Midshipmen spend one week with each of the communities: submarines, aviation, the Marine Corps, and surface warfare. It is the first time on a warship for some midshipmen, and therefore their first impression of the surface fleet. This is the perfect opportunity to “incline” them toward the surface warfare community.
Surface Warfare’s Future
The success or failure of the summer training program directly impacts the caliber of future officers. Most midshipmen do not yet know what they want to do, so the summer program gives surface warfare personnel opportunities to show them why they should select surface warfare. From visit, board, search, and seizure and ballistic-missile defense to welldeck operations and humanitarian relief, this community requires flexible and adaptable officers. While midshipmen are on board, they can get familiar with the many facets of being one of its officers.
All communities interact with surface warfare personnel. Aircraft are deployed on carriers; submarines conduct operations and exercises with strike groups; Marines deploy on ships. Visiting midshipmen must be exposed to the capabilities that surface ships bring to the fight. They do not always get their first choice for service selection. For those who have pursued a specific warfare community since starting school, their second choice is often heavily dependent on their midshipmen cruise.
Not all midshipmen are equal. Some are smart, hardworking, and ambitious; some are not. For current sailors, these midshipmen will become your division officers. They will write your evaluations, submit your awards, and ensure you have the tools you need to succeed (or not). For current division officers, these midshipmen will be your division officers when you are a department head. Do you want self-sufficient division officers who complete the tasks you assign with little supervision or the division officers who require constant supervision? For current department heads and future captains, these midshipmen will be your officers of the deck, driving your ship while you sleep.
Some have criticized the midshipman program for not being an accurate representation of the surface-warfare community. However, this is a direct reflection of the amount of planning and foresight invested in a ship’s training program. Midshipmen cruises must be planned in advance. While serving on a ship, junior officers can shoot crew-served weapons, drive a rigid-hulled inflatable boat (RHIB), enjoy a steel beach picnic, and tour another ship. This is not a division-officer tour but a concentrated dose of the surface-warfare community. With a little time and effort, surface warfare can sell itself.
Making It Memorable
Here are a few lessons learned from our successful cruises:
• Turn routine events into memorable experiences. One paradigm for us was damage control (DC). First, the DC team taught midshipmen about their profession. Midshipmen toured repair lockers, learned about the appropriate equipment, and tried on fire-fighting gear. Later, the “midshipmen response team” responded to a simulated fire. A smoke machine, four training-team members, a photographer, and a DC assistant made this a fun and memorable event. Similar occasions can be coordinated for anti-terrorism/force protection and medical. Midshipmen feedback has been positive. Other activities such as conning the ship, driving the RHIB, and gun shoots are required qualifications that midshipmen can expect to complete as ensigns. The key is to let them participate in life on the ship.
• Make time for midshipmen. Events such as junior-officer and department-head seminars are opportunities to discuss the expectations of a new division officer, how one balances qualifications and divisional responsibilities, and what you should look for when selecting a homeport, platform, or ship. These discussions can be formal or informal and can help expand midshipman horizons.
• Give them individual attention. While not always possible, midshipmen should have the opportunity to meet and talk with sailors. In regard to bridge watch, where as little as three midshipmen might feel like they are in the way, perhaps one could be integrated into the watch team as a conning officer or make contact reports. Another tool is midshipmen “qualifications,” which focuses more on doing things than on showing proficiency. Line items such as “Discuss the capabilities of the SPY radar with a qualified anti-air warfare coordinator” and “Discuss casualty control with the engineering officer of the watch” are great conversation starters. Additionally, line items such as “Take a tour of Main Engine Room 1 with the engine room operator” give midshipmen opportunities to tour spaces they would not normally see and talk to sailors.
• Integrate the midshipmen into ship life—but remember that they are still guests. Let them stand watch during the day but rotate them so they can observe different aspects of the ship. Do not put them on normal watch rotations or duty sections. They will have plenty of 0200–0700 watches when they get to the Fleet. When not under way, arrange activities with officers so the midshipmen can see what they do in their free time. While in homeport, these events include bowling nights and trips to theme parks. While on deployment, midshipmen sign out on liberty with junior officers, preferably their running mates. While on liberty, midshipmen will have opportunities to see new places and sample local foods, experiences they won’t forget.
• Other recommendations: Have spare pens, midshipmen ranks, and notepads. Don’t talk badly about other communities; instead, direct the conversation to surface warfare. Be forthright about the positive and negative aspects of SWO life. Take photos of the tour and burn them on CDs for the visiting midshipmen to take home.
Midshipmen summer training is a worthwhile investment for the surface-warfare community. Many who participate don’t yet know what they want to do when they commission. A successful program will show the midshipmen the many facets of being a surface warrior—and help the community to select the best and brightest, and vet prospective officers. Midshipmen will return to the Naval Academy or their ROTC unit from a great cruise as surface warfare advocates, posting pictures on social media of the places they went, telling their friends about the people they met, and sharing stories. Through these midshipmen, we can spread the word that the surface warfare community is the place to be.