American Valor Quarterly Issue 4 - Autumn 2008 | Page 14

of these spectacular undersea mountains appeared phenomenally
rugged, equal to, if not more acute than, the peaks of the Rocky
Mountains or the Himalayas. We later learned that we were cruising
along over the Alpha-Mendeleev, an underwater mountain range
with a surface area estimated to be greater than that of the Alps,
and only recently discovered by an American ice station.
There were times when this undersea range kept coming up so
relentlessly on the fathometer trace that I feared it might rise to
the point of blocking our way or force us to probe slowly for a
way around it. Fortunately, the roughly nine-thousand-foot heights
they reached left us with a clearance of several hundred feet, but
each peak gave us reason for concern.
Wardroom meeting aboard the Nautilus during its 1958 mission.
Captain Anderson is seated center.

I remember taking a brief turn around the ship to see how
everyone was doing. Jack “Mother” Baird, the chief cook, was
busy making doughnuts for breakfast.

John Krawczyk

Then he made a tentative, disconcerting finding. “The estimate “Care to try one, Captain?” he asked.
for ice in the Arctic basin may have to be increased by a
considerable factor.” He was by then seeing ice keels jutting “I don’t mind if I do,” I answered. I could not resist. I have a
downward more than one hundred feet.
sweet tooth. That may have been the best doughnut I have ever
put in my mouth.
Of course, we had to continue scanning ahead of our bow and
looking downward toward the sea floor as well. There were no In the torpedo room I saw torpedo batteries on charge to keep
charts in existence of the ocean floor over which we now traveled. them at maximum readiness. We knew there was little chance of
Would a peak abruptly rise up in front of us, ominously echoing encountering any kind of hostile vessel way up there, but Richard
our sonar pings? What if the ocean floor suddenly began to rise Jackman, torpedoman first class from Massachusetts, could
beneath us and to squeeze us toward the sharp-toothed ice pack prepare the tubes for firing on an instant’s notice if a target
above?
appeared or for blasting holes in the ice if we should suddenly
need to surface. Also on watch in the compartment was
What a disappointment – and what a mammoth navigation Torpedoman First Class James H. Prater, a Kentuckian who, like
problem – that would be! There was still so much for man to Jackman, was making his third Arctic cruise aboard Nautilus. He
learn before undertaking routine transpolar voyages. We would maintained the oxygen bleed from the storage tanks into the ship’s
discover much of that firsthand during the next few amazing atmosphere, making sure the air we breathed had the right amount
hours. That is what exploration is all about. I could only hope we of oxygen for healthful breathing.
would gather that knowledge more by trial than by error!
“Prater, how’s everything up forward?” I asked him.
0100: Soundings, Which Had Been Running Along at 2,100
Fathoms, Jumped Up Suddenly.
“Just fine, Captain,” he replied. “Seems like the closer we get to
the Pole, the better Nautilus runs.”
We were at seventy-six degrees, twenty-two minutes north – about
one-third of the way between Point Barrow on the northern It was true. If a submarine could purr, our ship was certainly
Alaska coast and the geographic North Pole. Almost before we doing so. Next I walked aft to the periscope station. Shep Jenks
could catch our breaths, our readings rapidly decreased to a depth was pouring over his track chart, plotting our position.
of about five hundred fathoms – about three thousand feet.
That was certainly not a problem yet, but how much more shallow “Are we still on track, Shep?