I don’t know if this story has been posted here before, but I was impressed when I read about it recently.
From the Wikipedia page:
R-14, under acting command of Lieutenant Alexander Dean Douglas, ran out of usable fuel due to seawater contamination, and lost radio communications on 10 May 1921, while on a surface search mission for the seagoing tug Conestoga, about 140 nautical miles (259 km; 161 mi) southeast of the island of Hawaii.[7] Since R-14’s electric motors did not have enough battery power to propel her to Hawaii, the ship’s officers and chief petty officers came up with a novel solution to the problem.[8] It was decided they should try to sail the submarine to the port of Hilo, Hawaii. A foresail was made of eight hammocks hung from a top boom made of pipe bunk frames lashed firmly together, all tied to the vertical kingpost of the torpedo loading crane forward of the submarine’s fairwater. Seeing that this gave R-14 a speed of about 1 kn (1.9 km/h; 1.2 mph), as well as rudder control, a mainsail was made of six blankets, hung from the sturdy radio mast (the top sail in the photograph). This added another 0.5 kn (0.9 km/h; 0.6 mph) to the speed. A mizzen was then made of eight blankets hung from another top boom made of bunk frames, all tied to the vertically placed boom of the torpedo loading crane.[9] This sail added another 0.5 kn. Around 12:30, on 12 May 1921, the crew was able to begin charging the submarine’s batteries by dragging the propellers through the water while under sail. The windmill effect of these slowly turning propellers turned the generators providing a small amount of voltage that was directed to the batteries.[10] The crew worked together to solve their various problems, and the boat sailed slowly for Hilo.[11] After 64 hours under sail, at slightly varying speeds, R-14 entered Hilo Harbor, under battery propulsion, on the morning of 15 May 1921. Douglas received a letter of commendation for the crew’s innovative actions from his submarine division commander, Commander Chester W. Nimitz, USN.[12]
It was lucky that the harbour was downwind.
We were told when first issued with our hammocks in a destroyer that they have a variety of uses other than sleeping eg protecting against small arms fire, leak-stopping and damage control. Making sails was perhaps mentioned but not seriously although I recall an instructor saying we could set a sail if all else fails.
Perhaps an emergency radio would have been a preferable resolution.
Yes, only 160 miles downwind so not exactly an epic journey but still resourceful, in my opinion. It’s not clear if they lost communications due to loss of battery power, or another failure. I’m sure they would have been happy to thumb the switch on an EPIRB if it was available.
It’s a reminder of what is possible in a time when most problem solving is increasingly reliant on an technological infrastructure stack that is often taken for granted.
Just curious: How would a hammock protect against small arms fire?
According to this source
the radio transmitter had failed. In 1921, apparently a shipboard station might have cost around $10-20k, or 500k in today’s dollars. So not surprising they didn’t have a “spare”.
The hammock containing all the bedding including the mattress and pillow is tightly lashed into a sausage with 7 hitches ( here my recollections are a little hazy, it’s over 65 years ago). They were then placed upright in the hammock netting and 40 of them together would stop a bullet if fired into them. The netting was in fact a steel enclosure from the term used to lash the hammocks up against the ship side in the days of sail where they did help to stop deadly wooden splinters.
There was no cafeteria back when I was in a hammock, the tables we sat at were underneath where we slung our hammocks. We lived, ate and slept in the same place known as broadside messing from the days of sail. I am doubtful of a hammocks ability to provide worthwhile protection against anything today.
That was the arrangement on the training ship “Sørlandet” when I was there during the winter/spring 1959 (67 years ago)
Accommodations for 52 boys, age 15 - 18 in one unheated common space, known as the “banjer” in Norwegian; “Banjer: The shared living space, sleeping quarters, or mess room on a sailing ship or naval vessel”.
Numbered hooks for the hammocks:
Personal lockers on either side of the tables. Doubles as seats at mealtime:
PS: This is after latest upgrade, didn’t look that posh in my days.
Video tour of the “Sørlandet”: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2olT_7QfMGI
In former sailing ship times, furled hammocks could be brought up on deck and stowed in racks or netting around and above the bulwarks and hoisted aloft to the tops (platforms in the masts) which were manned by marines with muskets etc sniping at the crews of ships closing to board. The hammocks thus provided considerable protection against muskets something equivalent to sandbags.
Admiral Nelson was shot this way. He, of course, did not take cover behind the bulwarks or hammock netting, (doing so would have been cowardly and decidedly un-British) but formally dressed ie plainly distinguishable, paced his quarterdeck openly discussing whatever it was with his Flag Captain, Hardy, as by that stage in the battle, the fight was beyond his control and in the hands of the crew boarding the enemy alongside.
Yes and (a small but interesting point follows) the hitches were specified as marling hitches, not half hitches (the difference is significant in effect but invisible to the untrained eye) so that hammocks damaged by enemy action did not unfurl if the lashing was cut between hitches.
As a tall chap, I was taken aback (good sailing ship term) when first issued with my tiny scrap of canvas which barely reached up to my chest and the even shorter kapok mattress - yet another hammock use springs to mind - so they could be a serviceable flotation device if your ship sank.
Well remembered regarding Marling hitches. I like many others fashioned a wooden spreader at one end so the pillow was not on the canvas giving me a bit more length.
One night at our basic training camp ashore we were disciplined for talking after lights out by spending the entire night running up and down the beach with our tightly lashed hammocks held above our heads. We started PT at sunrise.
This sort of image, taken of WW2 Japanese aircraft carrier bridges etc., always blew me away. You can see more photos on the internet. See all those white bundles? Those are the sailors’ hammocks! Like they were the Battle of Trafalgar! A bizarre manifestation of nautical tradition.
Do you think they were in any way effective or was it more of a tradition, superstition, or cultural practice?
Many paintings of Admiral Togo during Tsushima prominently feature rolled hammocks around his flag bridge.
Well, the Japanese got their crash course in how to run a navy from the British in the 1870s, and slavishly copied everything Royal-Navy. Being a tradition- bound culture they just kept doing what they had been taught, even though it made no real sense in the 20th century. All that canvas on deck in my opinion was just so much cord wood ready to be set ablaze by av gas.
But I suppose having it above decks made more sense in terms of below decks damage control.
When dealing with Japanese trampers I am fascinated by the use of whistles by the mate to order the deck crew around. That stopped in Western merchant marines probably around the 1950s. I haven’t come alongside a Japanese tramper in over 10 years so maybe the practice has stopped, but my guess is it’s probably still done.
I remember distinctly watching a Japanese crew on deck on a reasonably new tramper. They were busy sewing canvas patches on a hatch-cover tarpaulin, which was an anachronistic by itself.
Then a mate came by and blew a whistle he had around his neck and the deckhands stopped what they were doing and moved to do something else.
So, the system worked, but the whole scene could have been a hundred years old.