The first vessel to swim under the North Pole.
When naming a submarine, Nautilus is one of the first words that comes to mind. It's proven. There's a long and distinguished tradition of naming vessels Nautilus.
The animal — the chambered nautilus of the sea — is a slowmoving, homely little creature. But it's got a nice name. The term itself is derived from the Greek word for sailor.
Among the many military vessels named Nautilus are a seventeen-gun schooner that fought pirates for the US Navy before the War of 1812, an escort motorboat that patroled the waters off New York City at the end of World War I, and a diesel-powered submarine that sank three vessels at the Battle of Midway.
That's right, diesel-powered, like a truck. Or a Volvo.
Every internal combustion engine requires a mixture of air and fuel. The mixture allows the ignition which powers the engine. In cars and boats, that's easy enough: include an air-intake system with valves and controls to inject the cylinder chambers with the right proportions to combust with a spark. Liquid gasoline does not burn and under most circumstances fire cannot survive without oxygen. Vaporized fuel and air with a spark provided by a battery.
In a submarine, air is a problem.
Diesel Submarines have to carry batteries to power the ship while submerged, which places a severe limit on the time it can stay underwater. The batteries must also be recharged frequently, a task that can only be accomplished while surfaced. This extended period of exposure makes the submarine a vulnerable target, which is why recharging was performed at night whenever possible.
Under way on nuclear power
Captain Hyman Rickover was already a veteran of the Bureau of Ships when he devised nuclear propulsion for watercraft. The idea came to him while he was on assignment in the Atomic Energy Commission's reactor complex at Oak Ridge, Tennessee. His plans for the Nautilus came shortly thereafter.
Nuclear propulsion is much simpler than it sounds.
Actually it's not, unless you know the intricacies of nuclear fission. Rearrange an atom's tiny parts in unnatural ways, the atoms produce energy — lots of it. Hiroshima was a victim of atomic rearrangement. Atoms are profound things.
But it really is simple. Take a steam engine. Replace the tons of coal with a pound of Uranium. Literally a pound. Uranium is dense; a pound of it takes up about as much space as a golfball. Fission produces heat energy which powers the engines. There's your nuclear propulsion. No air tubes to the surface, no chambers of coal or tanks of diesel. If the crew did not need food they could stay underwater almost indefinitely.
Some specs:
Displacement: 3533 tons surfaced, 4092 tons submerged
Length: 323.8 feet
Beam: 27.8 feet
Draft: 22 feet
Speed: 22 knots surfaced, 25 knots submerged
Test depth: 700 feet
Armament: Six 21-inch torpedo tubes
Crew: 13 officers, 92 enlisted
The Nautilus broke every endurance and speed record in the world. When she was decommissioned she'd gone on 2500 dives and logged over 500,000 nautical miles. Her history is a long one. But her crowning achievement was her swim under the pole.
She was laid down June 14 1952 in Groton, Connecticut, authorized by Congress some three years earlier with the hull code SSN-571. She wouldn't be commissioned or see open waters for two more years. She was lowered into the Thames River on January 21 1954 when first lady Mamie Eisenhower broke a bottle of champagne across her hull.
By now, engineer Hyman was out of the picture. Nautilus was under the eye of Commander Eugene P. Wilkinson of the US Navy. The vessel spent yet another year docked for further construction and testing. She submerged for the first time in January 1955, signaling the historic message "Underway on Nuclear Power."
Say that today. See what happens.
Five months later she shattered the speed record, traveling 1300 nautical miles south in less than ninety hours. Once upon a time you moved your submarines with leg power, like a bicycle.
Nautilus spent the next two years rendering anti-submarine technology obsolete. She could stay submerged for incredible lengths of time and move out of dangerous areas with record speed.
Early in her career SSN-571 matched the Nautilus of Verne's imagination inch for inch, logging 60,000 nautical miles. Instead of two million gallons of diesel she burned off a pound of Uranium. She was barely a tenth of the way done.
90° N
Draw a line from any point on the equator to the center of the earth; go from the center of the earth to the North Pole. Right angle.
The first time she swam under the polar pack ice, Nautilus did not pass the North Pole. After docking in New London in July 1957 she cut some 1300 miles under the glaciers, now under the command of Commander William R. Anderson. Inconvenience struck when Anderson attempted to surface into a sheet of ice, tearing up two periscopes. After she emerged from the ice, Nautilus proceeded to the European coasts for various defense inspections — one must make the most of a swim beneath the Arctic — returning to New London at the end of October.
Operation Sunshine followed in April 1958: the swim under the Pole. She made her way up the west coast of the US, stopping at San Francisco and Seattle, finally girding herself for the second long journey north.
In mid-June she entered the Chukchi Sea, encoutering deep and impenetrable ice drifts. She made her way to Pearl Harbor to await better ice conditions.
It was a short wait: about a month later she was on her way to Pole again. She submerged in the Barrow Sea Valley August 1. Two days later, around midnight, she crossed the top of the earth. Stoically, she continued on, surfacing northeast of Greenland after nearly four days and two thousand miles underwater.
She continued to Portland, England, receiving the first Presidential Unit Citation ever issued during peace time from US Ambassador J.H. Whitney.
Nautilus was far from finished when she crossed the North Pole. She would not be decommissioned for over twenty years. Verne would have shat had he learned that a real craft lived to swim half a million miles.
The Museum
Today, Nautilus is a museum.
I don't mean that there's a museum built around Nautilus — the vessel itself is now a museum.
Two years after she was decommissioned in 1980, she was designated a National Historic Landmark. After some touring and extensive conversion work at Mare Island Naval Shipyard, she was towed back to Groton, Connecticut in July 1985.
Today she rests near the docks at New London and attracts some quarter-million visitors annually.
Transitional Man adds that the bulk of today's subs are still diesel-powered.
IWhoSawTheFace adds that diesel subs are better-suited for stealth operations because they are much quieter.
Sources
US Naval Institute
http://americanhistory.si.edu/subs/history/subsbeforenuc/revolution/father.html
http://americanhistory.si.edu/subs/history/subsbeforenuc/revolution/nautilus.html
http://americanhistory.si.edu/subs/history/subsbeforenuc/revolution/snorkel.html
Wikipedia
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nautilus_(submarine)
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/USS_Nautilus_(SSN-571)
Houghton Mifflin
http://college.hmco.com/history/readerscomp/ships/html/sh_063600_ussnautilus2.htm
Navysite
http://www.navysite.de/ssn/ssn571.htm
Sub Guru
http://www.subguru.com/nautilus571.htm
US Navy Submarine Force Museum
http://www.ussnautilus.org/history.html
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