Sunday, February 7, 2010

Diver No. 1- Ready!

Chapter 4: NEAR TRAGEDY

One of our practice dives involved breaking up a large concrete block on the bottom with a pneumatic hammer. This almost resulted in a tragic accident to the oldest member of my team, Lt. Watson, a World War I veteran. I was the Tender holding on to his lifeline. After he had been down for about 30 minutes I noticed that his bubbles were slowing down and finally ceased coming to the surface. I gave one pull on the line signalling "Are you OK". I got no response. Finally I yelled over to the phone man to contact my driver. He called and got a sort of mumbling as if he were drunk. Immediately, I was ordered to pull him up. and the rest of my team helped grab hold of the lifeline and started hauling. When we got him to the surface, we could see that he was completely limp within his diving suit. We pulled him up on the float and immediately opened his face plate. He was unconscious and looked grey. I thought "My God, he's had a heart attack and is dead!". However, after unscrewing his helmet his color came back and he quickly revived. After talking with him, we discovered what had happened. He was not having much success breaking up the concrete because he was bouncing up and down with the jackhammer. To put more weight on the hammer, he closed down his manual air valve half way and dumped some air out of his suit with the chin valve. However, the jackhammer accidentally hit the valve and closed it tight. Fortunately, there is a five minutes supply of air in the helmet which kept him alive until he was pulled up. He thanked me for saving his life and said he would buy me several rounds of drinks. I declined since it is the Tender's duty to watch out for his diver, and I was sure that he or one of my other teammates would do the same for me when I was on the bottom.

Diver No. 1- Ready!

Chapter three: TRAINING DIVES

"The next few nights I made a few more practice dives and finally learned to swing my legs over the descending line and ride it up and down. It was a matter of adjusting the air in my diving suit. In fact, Master divers can float at any depths by controlling the chin and air valves. However, it was difficult to get use to the frigidly cold ink black water. Moreover, Chief Boatswain Mate Mortimer who was assigned as the Diving Instructor of our group, somehow managed to put me in the largest size diving suit. There were a number of tasks which we had to accomplish before passing the Diving course, and we were graded on the time and skill shown. Each task was more difficult than the previous. For example, the first task was to ride down the descending line to the bottom with a bag in which there was an elbow and two lengths of pipe. We were to screw the pipe lengths into each end of the elbow. Sounds simple, but working in utter blackness, with two mittens and a huge diving gloves over your hands is like trying to thread a needle in a dark closet with boxing golves. Following is an excerpt from my letter home dated March 11, 1943. ----- "Dad, I am having an awful time in Diving. I can not seem to work under water. I am always dropping or losing nuts, bolts, screws, etc. You see, before I put on my diving suit, I have to wear two pairs of mittens, and then the diving suit, made of rubberized canvas, is pulled over my arms and legs. The gloves of the suit are much too large for my rather small hands. When they fill up with air, I can not feel a thing. One day last week, I was sent down with some large cast iron flange plates which I was to bolt together. I tried to sit on the mud, but my legs were stuck in the mud. So I stood in a half sitting position, and tried to pull the huge plates on my lap. But the plates also were stuck in the mud. After pulling for a half hour, I finally got the plates on my lap. The I reached down for the screws and nuts which were attached to a wooden board. I search for a long time before I could find them. They were floating over my head. When I finally got the bolts and nuts sombody, I think they were gremlins, pulled the plates off my lap. Then, holding the nuts and bolts in one hand, I tried to get the plates on my lap with the other hand. This lasted a long time. After I got all set, I found that one of the plates, which I was to bolt on to the other, was not square with the first so I had to square the holes somehow. Finally, I started to unscrew one nut and bolt from the board. However, I could not feel which was the bolt and which was the nut. In fact, the nut was so small, they were only 3/8 inch, that I could not tell for sure whether or not I had the nut in my hand. However, I finally got the botls and nuts off the board, and tried to get the bolt in the holes of the plates. In the meantime the two plates had come apart, so I had to start all over again squaring the plates. Finally, I got the bolt through the hole in the two plates and when I started to screw the nut on, I found that the nut had slippped out of my hand and consequently was lost. This discouraged me somewhat. However, I decided to unscrew the second bolt and nut from the wooden board, but I could not find the wooden board; it had floated away again. By this time I was mad. I reached above my head for the board but, in moving, the plates slipped off my lap into the mud. Since I was freezing by this time, and since I had been 1 hour and 45 minutes trying to get one nut and one bolt bolted on the plates and failed, and since there were sixteen nuts and bolts in all, I gave up and asked to be pulled up. I have to do this same task another day. They give me three chances. However, yesterday I did a little better. I was sent down with a hacksaw to cut through an angle bar of cast iron, 4" x 4" x 3/8". I was to do the work on a steel stage (platform) about 20 feet below. There was another diver at one end of the stage trying to make a box. I came down, got mixed up in my direction and landed on the diver's helmet. I thought the diver's helmet was the bottom of the stage and I stood there for a while with one foot on the helmet and tried to place my other leg but there was just space. I felt something reach up my leg which I thought was an eel or a large fish. I tried to kick it away but it kept crawling back. Finally, top side called down excitedly and said "Diver No. 2, you are on Diver No. 1's head, and he is pretty mad. Get off!" I then realized that the eel on my leg was the diver's hand. I then realized where I was, and I came up a few feet, found the structure of the stage, and pulled myself over to the other end. I was able to clamp the angle bar on a rail of the stage, and I proceeded to start cutting the bar. I was about hlfway through when the clamp came loose and the angle bar, the clamp, and the hacksaw fell on the stage. I let out some air and reached around on the bottom of the stage so that I could find them. I felt something hard which I thought was the angle, and I tried to lift it. It was very heavy. Suddenly, topside called down and said that I had a hold of No. 1's foot. I let go, and searched again and was able to find all my pieces. I clamped the bar and this time I was able to cut through the angle bar after 2 hours. I put the pieces in the bag and called that I was ready to come up. When I got to the top, Diver No. 1, was waiting for me and very very angry. I had jerked around so much on the stage and in climbing all over his helmet and pulling on his shoes, he had lost all of his boards one by one and received a zero score. He wanted to pounch me after I got my diving suit off, but since he was much bigger than me, I kept my helmet on until his teammates cooled him off. However, day before yesterday, one of the fellows made an even worse mistake. He was told to bring up anything laying loose on the bottom. After wandering around the mud for awhiled, he found something loose and secured a line around it and phoned to topside to bring it up. They had not pulled for long before they found that the diver had tied a rope around the feet of another diver and he was screaming that an octopus or something had hold of him."

Diver No. 1- Ready!

Chapter Two: FIRST DIVE

My team of Ensigns Malone, Lt (jg) Fergerson, Eckberg, and Lt. Watson, and myself, were told to report to the Diving Float on the 1600 to 2400 shift for training in Diving. It was cold, cold, cold on the river. The tide was washing in chunks of ice from the frozen tributaries further up that fed the North River. We had to put on long underware (sic), artic (sic) weather clothes, and extra wool mittens to keep warm. With the tide, there also drifted in the stinking brown mess from sewers and the white rubbery contraceptives dumped in thousands of toilets. I could not believe that we would be diving in such a cold stinking mess, but there were already divers in the water and as they came up they would be hosed off. We were waiting for these divers to finish before our turn came. Meanwhile, Lt. Mahan, the Diving Instructor, was explaining all the rules of diving that we had already heard in the classrooms, and further precautions that must be taken. Finally he asked for volunteers to make the first dive in our group. I had gone into the shack for a cup of hot coffee. When I came out of the shack with the coffee, I saw some Waves on the dock and waved my hand about the same time Lt. Mahan asked for volunteers. Next thing I knew a couple of sailors grabbed me and sat me in a chair and began dressing me in the diving suit. The only suit available was No. 3. Before I go further, I want to explain that there were three sizes of diving suits. No.1 for short to medium, No 2 for medium to tall, and No. 3 for extra tall. Since I had barely met the height requirement for the Navy by standing on tiptoes, I should have been put in No. 1 The canvas suit was pulled over my body, and it bulged out all over; then heavy iron soled shoes weighing 35 pounds each put on and laced, then a 25 pound brass breastplate placed over my shoulders and bolted to the suit, then 100 pounds of lead weight placed around my waistline with the folds of canvas suit sticking out all over, then the 75 pound brass helmet screwed on to the breastplace (sic) and the airhose and lifeline tied in place. Altogether I had about 250 pounds on my 150 pound body. When I tried to get up I couldn't. I was bent over double with my helmet hitting my knees, and I could not lift my legs. Two of my teammates grabbed my arms and helped drag me over to the ladder and the descending line with was a long rope that went down to the bottom. When I was able to get on the ladder and halfway in the water, my Tender, Ensign Fergerson, closed and locked my face plate which was the last communication I had with my buddies and fresh air. I thought this might be my last day on earth and said a little prayer. Over the telephone, I heard, someone say, I was Diver No. 1 and was I ready. I replied "aye, aye" although I wanted to say "no, no". He then told me to swing my legs over the descending line and ride it down to the bottom. No way. My legs were too heavy with the shoes. I tried several times but I just did not have the strength. Lt. Mahan, then called on the phone and told me to put my arm over the descending line and ride it" (again, that is where the page, and the chapter, ends)

Diver No. 1- Ready!

Chapter One, FIRST WEEK:

I reported on March 1943 to the US Naval Salvage Training and Diving School, Pier 88, N.Y.City. I had arrived a few days earlier in the midst of a snow storm. It was quite a difference in weather from the hot dry climate in Tuscon (sic- I should correct but he consistently spells it this way. I think it's kinda cute) Arizona where I had spent my first two months at the Indoctrination School for newly Commissioned Officers. Pier 88 is a long ocean transportation pier on the North River where the Normandie had been docked. Now it is a huge rusty hulk lying half in and half out of the water. It is difficult to believe that this was once a magnificent luxurious ocean liner, the pride of the French fleet (sic- again, he appears to be referring to the pier, at first, but then seems to be writing about "the Normandie").

There are about 35 officers in my class and about 90 enlisted men. After checking in, we were greeted by Lt. Cmdr Chandler, the CO of the school, and introduced to the Instructors in Diving, Salvaging, and Ship Construction. We were given a briefing, and the history of Salvaging in general and what our tasks will be. The officers will be put through the same rigorous diving training as the enlisted men and for this we will need dugarees (sic), long underwear and submarine clothes and gloves. I am pleased with this assignment. I read an article recently in the Reader's Digest about this School and how Commodore Sullivan convinced the President that this school should be established. Apparently, the officers and men chosen for this type of duty were carefully selected.

The following day, after taking a physical examination, we were put in small groups into the decompression chamber and the pressure raised gradually to a depth equal to 100 feet. My ears began to hurt almost immediately; other in my group were also having troubles. We were told to swallow and blow our noses to equalize the pressure in our eardrums. This helped and we were able to go all the way. The purpose of this was to test our reaction under pressure. I heard later that two officers of our class had claustrophobia and requested assignment to some other duty. Also, we heard that at least 20% of the officers and men usually "wash out" of the school before completing the course because of difficulties with diving. We were told, however, that this would have no harmful effect on their Naval careers since diving conditions at this school were rigorous and those who complete the course should be capable of diving anywhere in the world.

We are to spend the next three weeks under a diving instructor on the Float. This is a huge raft on the river just off of the Pier. We will be given various underwater tasks which increase in complexity as we complete them, and we will have to make a passing score with each task. After completing the Diving course, we will then be given courses in Salvaging Engineering, and Ship Construction. Also, we will be given practical courses in welding and burning underwater. This will be done in a tank in the Pier 88 building. Also, we will learn how to splice rope, make various knots and rigging. The idea is that an Officer should not order a man down into dangerous waters to do a task unless he can do it himself.

The rest of the week was spent learning how to use the diving suit, and how to operate the chin valve which controls the air into the suit. It seemed easy enough and I do not expect any trouble with diving. We were all divided into diving teams of 4 or 5 officers each for the diving training course. My team is to dive from 1600 to midnight since.... (he ends the sentance here, the bottom of the page must have been cut off).

Diver No. 1- Ready!

INTRODUCTION- part two:
Two days later, I was in Tuscon, Ariz at the Indoctrination School for Officers. It was a crash course designed to teach us something about the Navy for most of us had never been to sea or even on a ship. We arose at 5 AM and spent all day marching to classes and drilling under a hot desert sun. At the end of two months, we learned a little about navigation, Rules of the Road at sea, difference between Bow (sharp end) and stern (blunt end) of a ship, Port and Starboard (one side had red lights, the other blue), other peculiar naval terms such as "head" and "scuttlebutt", and how to recognize various ships.

Finally the day came when we were graduated and given our duty assignments. We all were sent to different places around the World. Those who requested West Coast duty were sent to the East Coast; those requesting East Coast were sent to the West Coast; those requesting Sea Duty were given land duty and vice versa. I had requested Battleship or Submarine duty or shore duty on the West Coast. My orders said that I was to report to the US Naval Salvage Training and Diving School, Pier 88 NY City. I had absolutely no idea what this was. Why me? No one could tell me at the time. I was soon to find out!"

Diver No. 1- Ready!

INTRODUCTION
My name is Benjamin S. Jones, Sr., commonly known as Ben Jones. I began my professional career as an Engineer, graduate of the University of California, Berkeley Sept. 1942. World War II was in full bloom. The Japanese had attacked Pearl Harbor just 10 months previously. In February a large French ship, the Normandy, seized by the US, burned and sank in New York Harbor. This meant nothing to me at the time; it was beyond my wildest imagination that a year later I would be diving in waters alongside that ship. Our armed forces were entrenched on Guadacanal and beginning to strike back at the Japs, and in Europe, the tide seemed to be turning against the Germans. The Military needed more men, more guns, more ships, more tanks and planes. The Navy needed Engineers for their shipyards and was offering a Commission to anyone with an Engineering degree. I applied even though I was told that, at 5 feet 5 Inches, I was a little short for an officer. So when the time came for the physical exam, I stuffed my socks with sponges and by stretching a little was able to make the height. At the same time, the local Draft Board was breathing down my neck. Two agonizing months went by while I pleaded with the Draft Board to wait until I heard from the Navy. A week before being inducted as a Private in the Army, I received a large manilla envelope special delivery from Washington D.C. stating that the President had appointed me an Ensign in the United States Navy. I read "And I do strictly charge and require all Officers, Seamen and Marines under his Command to be obedient to his orders. And he is to observe and follow such orders and directions from time to time as he shall receive from me, or the future President of the United States or his Superior Officers...". Wow! This was from the President himself! the package had other information and instructions. It also warned that my Commission was probationary based on my completing a three month Indoctrination at a Naval Training School for Officers, Tuscon Arizona, and I was to report immediately

Welcome to the Jones Families Blog for the "Big Nine"

This can serve as a central place to share stories, pictures, thoughts, and anything else that can be blogged, or discussed regarding the Jones Family "Big Nine".

Let's try to keep everything in here positive and avoid off topic diversions into "other" topics (unless they directly relate to a story).

Below is a picture of the "Big Nine". I will add more information regarding this picture and this blog as it is forwarded to me (this is basically a placeholder for now).