# Stressful Situations for Naval Officers



## flavelle (3 Mar 2011)

I've been doing a lot of reading around on here and I read a lot of posts warning of the stressful situations to encounter while on duty in the CF.

What exactly are these stressful situations? Can anyone describe some examples for me of when they were up to their eyeballs while on duty? The occupations about which I'm asking are CSE, MSE, and MARS.

I would imagine say, for example, that the HMC ships that are doing exercises with American submarines right now are probably operating around the clock hunting each other (at times). I would think that sleep deprivation and constant awareness and focus would be mentally tiring but what else makes exercises like this stressful for an officer? During exercises are there extra events thrown in? Say a MOB, heart attack, or fire?

Thanks for any good stories you have!


----------



## RC (3 Mar 2011)

A CO once told me that the most stressful situation he had ever been in was when the dumbwaiter broke down during meal time.  Everything else they train for, but mess with the men's food, and there's hell to pay.


----------



## Kat Stevens (3 Mar 2011)

I imagine that trying to get to the officer's mess for breakfast before they run out of plover's eggs and caviar would be quite stress inducing.


----------



## jollyjacktar (3 Mar 2011)

Oh no, pulling alongside another ship at sea close enough for the Captain to yell over to ask if they have any Grey Poupon.  That's stress.


----------



## FSTO (3 Mar 2011)

I'll bite. While driving an ORCA alongside in Tsheum Hbr on Vancouver Island, winds were off jetty and gusting to 25 knots. Anyone who has been there knows its pretty tight and there are the private yachts alongside as well. Things were going well and we had thrown for #1 but then the person on the foc'sle failed to attach the heaving line to the hawser. Within that moment, the wind gusted and I started to quickly drift off the jetty and onto the yachts fwd of the fueling point. After a couple of full engine movements I was able to exit the hbr and try again. 
That is just one of the numerous stressful situations I have been involved in.  It is also a bit of a rush if it all works out in the end.


----------



## Blackadder1916 (3 Mar 2011)

While I am not was not a naval officer nor have even "served in" one of Canada's warships, I did have occasion a few decades ago to be "embarked aboard" PROVIDER and witnessed a stressful situation for some young naval officers (and a couple of subalterns from the battalion to which I was attached).  It was (IIRC) the first or second evening out of Esquimalt (we were headed to San Diego) and while the ship's officers were hosting some of the bn's officers in the wardroom, they were supposedly encouraged to partake in a ritual that I had never heard of before - "the dance of the flaming a$$holes".  This involved wadding toilet paper between the cheeks and leaving a trailing portion.  The length of the trailing portion may have been arbitrary or it may have predetermined.  The end of the TP was lighted and the "dancer" then had to race along a course without ejecting the flaming paper.  It seemed, that on this particular evening at sea, the course was out from the wardroom, down a stairs ladder, through the sickbay main door hatch (that's where I became aware of the event), out a secondary hatch in the back of the sickbay, back up the ladder and into the wardroom.  (_I may be a little fuzzy on the topography; it's been a long time and while I was familiar with the layout of the ship as regards the sickbay, I had no occasion to visit the wardroom, so may be a little off as to its exact location._)

The first two participants (one army, one navy) apparently had no difficulty navigating the course.  I (one of the medics with 3 PPCLI) was in the sickbay, and was very surprised by the sudden appearance and departure of the two officers.  The ship's junior Med A was not as surprised since this was not the first time such an event had happened.  He then, with a smile, locked the hatch, remarking that the XO and MO must be in the wardroom (I guess they had a reputation for instigating mess tomfoolery).  A few minutes later there was a commotion outside the sickbay with a frantic attempt to open the hatch and much knocking and shouting.  Though one would naturally assume that flaming paper would be discarded and extinguished at the first feeling of warmth, some credit must be given to the young naval officer who in the face of much stress (and perhaps not wanting to admit defeat to the army or XO) held his torch for much longer than valour required.  The next morning there was a visible sign to his "courage under fire"; one blister on the left side of his crack of roughly a thin rectangular shape and another on the right in a circular pattern.  It was a "10", the perfect a$$.


----------



## The Bread Guy (3 Mar 2011)

Talk about lighting a fire under their..... oh, never mind....


----------



## Oldgateboatdriver (3 Mar 2011)

Coming alongside public wharf in Powell River with a gate vessel while a BC ferry was at its wharf just across. When loading, they keep their engines on, going forward to push their nose against the loading ramp. We accidentally  dropped #4 line in the water, fouled our screw, staling the main engine. The ferry's prop wash was sucking us in towards and then under its stern into the turning screws. We just managed to contact them on VHF and got them to stop their engines when two feet away from getting pulled under (they had to put line out at the front end first as they were loading at the time). The Pilot and I (I was SSD OOW) got pretty drunk that night.

Also on a gate vessel: Coming alongside another gate vessel in Esquimalt harbour, when we ordered slow astern to come to a (perfect) stop alongside, the engine telegraph got stuck in the full ahead position. By the time we got the E.R. to disregard telegraphs and rushed a messenger down to order full astern instead, we came to a stop about half a boat ahead of the other gate vessel already alongside and a few feet off - with everyone breathing a sigh of relief that we managed to avoid hitting at all.


----------



## Sigil (3 Mar 2011)

Blackadder1916, that is one of the most hilarious navy stories I've ever heard. Dance of the flaming a$$holes, eh? As a hopeful future naval officer, maybe I should start practicing now so my form and speed will be good enough to stave off...failure.  ;D


----------



## Gunner98 (3 Mar 2011)

Blackadder1916 said:
			
		

> While I am not was not a naval officer nor have even "served in" one of Canada's warships, I did have occasion a few decades ago to be "embarked aboard" PROVIDER and witnessed a stressful situation for some young naval officers (and a couple of subalterns from the battalion to which I was attached).  It was (IIRC) the first or second evening out of Esquimalt (we were headed to San Diego) and while the ship's officers were hosting some of the bn's officers in the wardroom, they were supposedly encouraged to partake in a ritual that I had never heard of before - "the dance of the flaming a$$holes".  This involved wadding toilet paper between the cheeks and leaving a trailing portion.  The length of the trailing portion may have been arbitrary or it may have predetermined.  The end of the TP was lighted and the "dancer" then had to race along a course without ejecting the flaming paper.



I know of an entire officers' mess (main hall) carpeted area that had to be replaced and at least one arse with second degree burns that resulted from an Artillery version of this game which involves chugging a jug of beer fast enough to then be able to extinguish the flame on completion before the curly hair is singed.  Unfortunately your thirst and coordination diminish as the game progresses, ergo damage and collateral damage may result and did in this case.


----------



## xena (3 Mar 2011)

A story from our brethren in the Royal Navy.  Unconfirmed, of course...

----------------------------------------------------

Pull up a sack of spuds (no sandbags aboard ship), tune the direction finder into Radio Luxembourg, crack open one of those cans of beer you've been hoarding and let me tell you a story (with some explanatory notes for those who are not of a nautical disposition).

Emperor Mong (inspirer of stupidity since time began…) has been serving afloat since neanderthal man discovered he could sit on a floating log and paddle it with his hands. Mong has long since traded in his good conduct badges for a long service medal with many, many bars. Trafalgar, Jutland, the River Plate, Bluff Cove - Mong's No 1's hang heavy with campaign medals from all these places. Usually, he served with both sides at the same time.

As fans of films like 'The Cruel Sea' will know, ships used to be controlled by an officer standing on the bridge and shouting orders into metal tubes. This wasn't some form of early, computer voice recognition. They were just metal tubes that ran through the ship and appeared somewhere that orders needed to be heard.

One of the tubes led to the 'wheelhouse' - an armoured, windowless compartment in the middle of the ship containing the ship's steering wheel, a gyro repeater to show the ship's course and absolutely nothing else. Except, that is, for a poor soul with the worst job in the world: staring at the gyro repeater for hours on end and making small adjustments on the wheel to keep the repeater showing the ordered course.

If you were unlucky, you'd get the middle watch - from midnight to 0400 - in the wheelhouse. If you were really unlucky your ship would be transiting the Pacific and the course wouldn't change for days at a time.

On one occasion, at about 0300, the wheelhouse was occupied by the trusty coxswain who handled the wheel with a masterly grip, and a cook of ill repute who was at a loose end while the batch of tomorrow's bread he was baking was in the oven.

Despite having a combined IQ that was lower than some of the marine invertibrates fouling the ship's hull, this pair were easily bored. As they say, the Emperor makes work for idle hands and they soon discovered that the bolt securing the ship's wheel was loose. Not only could the bolt be unscrewed, but the entire wheel could be removed - thus leaving a 2,500 ton warship doing up to 20 knots and containing 300+ mainly sleeping matelots (_French: sailors_) totally out of control.

A new form of entertainment was born (no ipods, playstations or DVDs in those days). The pair of loons took turns unbolting the wheel and then bolting it back on again. The 'winner' of the game was the one who needed to apply the smallest course correction after reattaching the wheel.

Like all games, this one soon became boring. To spice things up a bit, they decided that they would run round the wheelhouse, carrying the wheel, before reattaching it.

Of course, this also became boring. To cut a long story a bit shorter, they ended up unbolting the wheel and running round the entire upper deck (that's the main, outside 'floor' of the ship that has the big guns, superstructure and helicopters parked on it) while carrying the wheel before returning to the wheelhouse and reattaching it.

As I said, they were not burdened by the ravages of intelligence. It didn't occur to either of them that, at all times when the ship was at sea, the bridge was occupied by an officer of the watch who was selected for having near perfect eyesight and whose powers of observation were honed by years of training. Naturally, he was somewhat perturbed to see some foul creature scurrying across the fo'csle (the pointy bit at the front) in the small hours of the morning carrying a large object of indeterminate origin.

Three swift steps and the OOW was on the bridge wing (an open 'balcony' at each side of the bridge). With the flick of a switch he activated the searchlight and illuminated the miscreant, who froze like the protagonist in a comedy jailbreak. The shouted conversation went like this:-

OOW: Who is that on the fo'csle.

COX: Nobody sir.

OOW: Is that you coxswain? Who's steering the ship?

COX: Err ...

OOW: What's that you're carrying?

COX: Nothing sir.

OOW: It looks like .... I DON’T BELIEVE IT - IT'S THE SHIP'S WHEEL.

The ship's company were promptly roused to their emergency stations (the bits of the ship where they go in an emergency such as a fire, a hull breach or a madman nicking the main steering gear).

The Captain, on hearing the pipe for emergency stations, promptly ran up the bridge ladder in his pyjamas, fearing that his ship had been torpedoed by a rogue Nazi submarine that didn't know WW2 had ended or a rogue Commie submarine that didn't know WW3 had yet to begin.

The ship's wheel was reattached, the off duty crew returned to their bunks and calm returned to all parts of the ship. Except the part occupied by the Captain, who was crazed by a furious rage.

At that time, the Naval Discipline Act still allowed the death penalty in some circumstances. The regulators (naval military police) were kept up all night investigating whether this was one of those circumstances and whether the Captain could, through some obscure legal loophole, award a death sentence at the end of a summary trial (where the Captain is the judge and jury and usually hands out a fine).

Not wanting to damage the ship's new fangled radar and sensitive antennae, the Captain quickly ruled out hanging and made enquiries among the Royal Marines about the possibility of a firing squad on the quarter deck (the flat bit at the back of the ship - usually occupied by a knackered, 25 year old helicopter on modern RN ships).

Sadly, the Captain's hopes of conducting the first summary execution aboard ship since Pte John Dalinger RM met his maker in 1860 were to be dashed. He had to make do with Courts Martial, discharge and hefty jail sentences for the hapless coxswain and hopeless cook (whose bread ignited during the aftermath of the incident and brought the crew, once more, to emergency stations).


----------



## Rifleman62 (3 Mar 2011)

Wonderful! Tears in my eyes. Sent it to every sailor I know.


----------



## medicineman (3 Mar 2011)

A Navigation officer's course was being run aboard 9D's ship about a year ago...I get a call at home to come and get her a week early??!!  She relates a story of her being roused from her rack by a loud crunch at 0130, followed immediately by the general alarm.  Baby Nav O was doing high speed ingress/egress from a cove and hit a shoal, ripping the forward sonar's travel cover off.  I was filling in over here at FDU when some of the dudes had to go over and weld a new one on and conduct the hull inspection...stressful enough?

MM


----------



## klacquement (14 Mar 2011)

Hmm, I think I may have been on that sail, having had an extremely similar experience at a similar ungodly time in the morning.  I remember waking up to "Emergency stations. Flood in the sonar space", and the sonar tech in the rack next to mine swearing that he was going to kill the roundsman calling "flood" for a condensation puddle.  Turned out that 15 mess is far enough back that we didn't hear the "crunch".  Surprising how fast people move when the pipe "this is not a drill" is made.

Now, getting my seabag packed for another navigator course...


----------



## SeaKingTacco (14 Mar 2011)

Or how about two successive nights of Engine Room fires? That was stress.

If I never see another can of AFFF (or a fireball coming out of the uptakes) it will be too soon. 

Salty enough?


----------



## Sub Standard (14 Mar 2011)

I imagine the SYO on Kootenay during our Haitian Vacation back in 94 had a stressfull day when he had to inform the crew that we had no Canadian Beer left and had to make due with American Beer.


----------



## ditchpig041 (14 Mar 2011)

Lacqui..... you are such a princess.... just saying..... I guess they let all kinds of trash in here eh! (its my brother btw before anyone goes up in arms....)


----------



## q_1966 (1 Apr 2011)

RC said:
			
		

> A CO once told me that the most stressful situation he had ever been in was when the dumbwaiter broke down during meal time.  Everything else they train for, but mess with the men's food, and there's hell to pay.



 > When Cooks play the game, everyone looses.
- Staying open late during OUR breaktime, 
- Extra helpings 
- helpings of 2 or more mains 
Problem is the crew sometimes tend to expect it when really it is a courtesy...
Never have that problem from Air Det, they have to pack a lunch when their at 443 squadron
and they always seem to be doing OOW manouevers during supper, or a spiffy din the CO requests...

Also it must be stressful for naval officers because at the Wardroom (on base) we make toast for them  :blotto:

Ivan the tolerable, that ships wheel story made my day ;D


----------



## Lumber (29 Apr 2011)




----------

