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Log Entries by Tracy D. Connors, a series of recollections and personal spectives..

Welcome to Log Entries by Tracy D. Connors 

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In Dire Straits of Gibraltar

USS F. D. Roosevelt (CVA-41) moving at
USS F. D. Roosevelt (CVA-41) moving at "All Ahead Flank."

When Navy friends and ship mates get together to relax, invariably the topic gets around to "sea stories."  All of us who have served in the Navy have acquired such stories--funny, surprising, comical, humorous, tragic, poignant--and memorable, always memorable.   Sea Stories are as varied as the person reliving them--interesting, exciting, provocative, stimulating, appealing, heartwarming, lively and entertaining--worth telling to a larger audience, sharing with others some unforgettable experiences and preserving precious memories for future generations.

Qualifying as an Officer of the Deck Underway--OOD u/w--often took junior surface officers years to accomplish.  The Officer of the Deck is that officer on watch in charge of the maneuvering and daily routine of the ship.  Next to the Captain and the Executive Officer--XO—he or she is in command of the ship during the period of their watch.  Earning qualification as an OOD underway was, and is, the most sought after achievement for a junior Surface Warfare Officer. 

In the early 1960's, qualifying as an OOD underway required that the JO first prove himself as a Boat Officer and then as an OOD Inport.  Only then, and after many months of standing watches on the bridge under the steely eyes of the Captain, could the JO hope that one day he might receive a letter from the CO announcing that he had fulfilled the requirements.  Only the Captain could sign the letter, when he and the Navigator agreed that you were ready. 

USS F.D. Roosevelt OOD Training Manual
The young officer who designed this cover for the Roosevelt's OOD Training Manual in 1963 clearly had a whimsical sense of humor. The cartoon Lt. Junior Grade is holding a security blanket in his lap as he stares at a windup toy model of an aircraft carrier with the number "42" painted on the side. The fact that the Commanding Officer did not veto the cover design also says a lot. The manual represented the first compilation into one publication of all the various requirements and tests needed to be completed before a young line officer could be issued a letter of qualification as an Officer of the Deck Underway. It is believed to be the first such publication and a model for later Professional Qualification Standards (PQS) put into place within the Navy's Surface Warfare Community.

Many hopeful JO’s stood watches as the Junior Officer of the Deck for months, and never received the coveted letter of qualification.  Those who did had been aboard the ship for several years and had been promoted to Lieutenant Junior Grade from their starting rank of Ensign.

In April, 1963 I earned my letter of OOD u/w qualification while still an Ensign.  I was shocked when Captain Walter Clarke signed it one beautiful spring day while we were steaming back to CONUS from over nine months of deployment in the Mediterranean.  Since we were in the middle of a beard growing contest (to help liven the boring two week transit of the Atlantic) I scratched my blond, itchy stubble in wonderment. 

Officer of the Deck Qualification Letter
Officer of the Deck Qualification Letter

I was shocked, then ecstatic.  Here I was still an Ensign, and I was one of only seven or eight JOs on the ship with a qualification letter.  My place in the Wardroom was secure.  I don't remember if I swaggered, but I must have. 

The Captain told me that I was the most junior officer he had ever qualified as an OOD underway.  Of course, I took the honor, and it was mostly that, very seriously.  In fact, when I had the "deck and the conn" it was the most totally focused, single-minded thing I ever did.  I took great pride in training my watch team, running them through innumerable drills, preparing us for the time when a plane in the water, or a man overboard would not be a drill but the real thing.  We dreaded the thought, but we knew the day would come. 

Following an all too brief period at home and in the Brookland Naval Shipyard for repairs, some months later we were again transiting the Atlantic—in the opposite direction.  We planned our passage through the Straits of Gibraltar to ensure that we went through at high speed at midnight.  The new CO, Captain Gerry Miller had asked that I be assigned the Mid Watch.  I would take us through the straits and into the Med.

It was standard procedure for us to relieve the watch starting 15 minutes prior to the hour.  It was also SOP for the watch team to go through the Combat Information Center for a briefing on the surface picture prior to the watch.  This time, I was the CIC Watch Officer for the watch preceding. 

In the hours prior to my bridge watch, I had watched the blips on my radar repeater grow in density as we neared the straits.  Ships from all over the world were feeding into this "choke point," coming and going through the narrow passage at speeds ranging from a few knots to an average of 12 to 15 knots. 

As was standard practice dictated, we were doing 25 knots.  Not only were we overtaking the ships steaming east into the Med, but our closure rate on those ships steaming west out of the Med was between 30 and 45 knots.  It was no time for a mistake.  Large ships do not maneuver easily.  Aircraft carriers are even worse. 

At 15 knots when I ordered the "helm" over 15 degrees to start a turn, it would take nearly half a minute for the compass to click over just one degree.  "Ship drivers" had to think and act way ahead of where they were.

When my relief arrived in CIC to take over as the CIC Watch Officer, I briefed him, then headed up the seven flights of "ladders" (steep stairs) towards the bridge.  For a few minutes, I stood in the enclosed, armored bridge area directly behind the conning bridge as I adjusted to the feel of the bridge and listened to the soft conversation of the watch team dealing with the heavy ship traffic all around us. 

I watched, fascinated as always, as the Seaman plotted surface contact information, writing backwards on the surface status board in white grease pencil where the watch team could see it. 

The board was full of contacts--"G," "H," "I," and so on through the alphabet--their X's linked together to form ghostly trails on the board, silently snaking past the center of the board.  Us! 

Finally, I read the Captain's Night Order Book entry for this evening.  The usual text.  He was asleep in his Sea Cabin, dead tired after overseeing air operations all day long.  Call him if anything usual happened, if I had to maneuver the ship more than a few degrees off base course, and of course, if some other ship was a threat to us.

Even though I had watched the blips on the radar scope for hours, seeing the actual running lights and stern lights of the real ships brought home the risk and danger.  Lights were all around us. 

White stern lights of the ships we were overtaking would slowly grow stronger, then pass down the port or starboard side at less than a mile, not much room for a ship.  The masthead and red port running lights of the ships leaving the Med seemed to be racing down the port side several miles away.

When my eyes were night adjusted and I felt I had the situation in mind, I stepped out onto the bridge to greet and salute the OOD I was relieving.  He was one happy camper.  A hot cup of coffee and a sweet roll were waiting for him in the Wardroom.  A few minutes later and he would be sleeping soundly while I dodged and weaved the ship through the Straits and into open waters.  His stress level was dropping like a rock.  Mine was going in the opposite direction. 

Inport in Istanbul, Turkey aboard the USS F. D. Roosevelt (CVA-42).
Inport in Istanbul, Turkey aboard the USS F. D. Roosevelt (CVA-42).

I had never taken the ship through the Straits before as the OOD.  Now I was expected to do so while the rest of the ship—including the Captain—was fast asleep.

The OOD briefed me quickly on the situation.  No surprises, just ships, lots of them.  When the brief was over, I gave the required salute and uttered the words which gave me legal authority—and personal accountability—for the rest of my watch: "I relieve you, Sir."

"I stand relieved," he replied and announced that "LTJG Connors, has the deck and the conn."  The Quartermaster duly noted the fact in the log.  The ship was mine and he handed me the "badge of authority," a pair of binoculars which I quickly adjusted to my eyesight. 

He left immediately to prepare his log entries. 

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