|
By J. A. Hitchcock
She's smaller than originally thought, and her bow
is curved, not square. These are among the first mysteries
solved by the raising of the Civil War submarine H.
L. Hunley after 136 years on the bottom of Charleston
Harbor. To commemorate the occasion, maritime artist
Marek Sarba depicts her final departure, with Confederate
General P. G. T. Beauregard among the observers. Sarba
has produced a limited-edition print of this spectacular
painting, the sales of which will benefit the efforts
to preserve the Hunley.
Dateline: 17 February 1864, Charleston Harbor, South
Carolina, 2000-The USS Housatonic rests at anchor, her
bow facing west by northwest toward Fort Sumter. Those
on deck keep watch for a newfangled contraption that
could travel underwater. The night is clear and moonlit,
the seas calm. Suddenly, at 2045, Officer of the Deck
John Crosby spots an anomaly in the water, "what
looked to be a porpoise coming to the surface to blow."
But it is not a porpoise, it is the H. L. Hunley. Even
as bullets ricochet off the hull of this iron fish,
she moves forward quickly-straight for the Housatonic.
Minutes later, an explosion rocks the Housatonic, and
she begins to sink fast. Men clamber over the side,
into the water and into launches that have been cleared
from the ship. One is sent to the nearby Canandaigua
to summon assistance.
Later, Federal Seaman Robert Fleming testifies: "When
the Canandaigua got astern, and was lying athwart of
the Housatonic, about four ship lengths off, while I
was in the fore rigging, I saw a blue light on the water
just ahead of the Canandaigua, and on the starboard
quarter of the Housatonic." This was the pre-arranged
signal the submarine's crewmen were to give to let those
on shore know she was safe.
But the Hunley never made it back to port.
6 August 2000, Conservation Laboratory, Charleston,
South Carolina
Underwater explorer and best-selling author Clive Cussler
and his companions stand in front of what looks like
just another nondescript warehouse at the old Charleston
Naval Shipyard. They are met outside by Paul Mardikian,
Senior Conservator, and Dr. Robert Neyland, Project
Manager. This is the lab where the Hunley will be brought
for conservation and restoration.
As they are led inside and up a flight of metal stairs
painted yellow, they face a large, green holding tank-the
future home of the Hunley, possibly for the next ten
years.
Mardikian patiently explains what will happen after
the Hunley arrives at the lab:
The first step is to fill the tank with chilly
water, once the submarine is put in. When everything
inside the submarine has been excavated [estimated time
6-12 months], remains and artifacts will be properly
stored, then conservation of the sub itself begins.
As it's made entirely out of iron, we have concretions
on the outside to deal with, possibly some rust, maybe
some organic creatures, which makes it a very complex
project, and can take anywhere from five to ten years,
and that's a general timeline. You cannot reverse 136
years of corrosion quickly.
I've worked on the Titanic, the Alabama, and ancient shipwrecks, and I can
tell you it is very rare to have a complete shipwreck
with no oxygen, like the Hunley. Once we get inside
the submarine, we will be able to tell how much, if
any, oxygen has been in there and if it affected any
of the artifacts. So we need to be ready for every
option. There is no room for guessing at this point
if there are any significant remains of the crew,
if there is any organic material, like textiles. Some
people will say everything will be gone, but we just
don't know.
The group is led to a computer work station, waterproofed
because of its proximity to the tank. A program on the
computer allows the scientists and archaeologists to
monitor everything involved with the tank, including
the rate of oxygen, conductivity of the water, and Ph
levels. Each of the three water tanks outside the building
can be opened or closed, or the computer can regulate
water moving in and out of the inside tank.
A refrigerated morgue on the ground level has nine
steel trays, each the length of a human body, waiting
for whatever is found inside the submarine. Another
computer is set up just outside the morgue, connected
to a large X-ray machine that will be used not only
for any human remains found, but also on various parts
of the submarine. The spar, which held the explosive
that destroyed the Housatonic, still was attached to
the bottom of the bow of the Hunley. It had to be removed
for proper recovery of the submarine and was one of
the first artifacts brought to the lab. Mardikian shows
the group an X-ray of the spar, pointing out the layer
of concretion on the outside and how the computer software
can show the spar without the concretion, which will
help them during restoration. "We've found in ancient
shipwrecks that iron disappears, but the concretions
become like molds. So some parts of the spar might be
completely empty, even though the corrosion rate is
not very high," Mardikian explains.
The group walks upstairs to the offices and stops in
front of a model of the Hunley, strapped into a metal
truss and covered with what looks like yellow pillows.
Neyland steps forward and points at the model.
We went through a number of ideas to raise
the submarine when we began planning this three years
ago. We looked at a coffer dam, which would have been
very expensive. We looked at going down and scooping
up the whole wreck in a great big clamshell, but found
the soil around the Hunley wouldn't support that. Finally,
we looked at a space frame, what we call a truss. Then
we figured that the Hunley, filled with sand, weighs
about 30 tons. So if we just put the truss down, then
transferred the weight of the Hunley to the truss, it
would have sunk into the mud. So we came up with a method
that was used in the Gulf of Mexico, these great big
suction piles, which are essentially inverted cans that
go in the bottom, then pump out the water so they suck
down. These acted as an excellent stable foundation,
18 feet in diameter, 12 feet high and weigh about 45
tons.
We originally thought we could put a couple of slings here and there [on each
end of the sub], but last year we looked at the rivets
on the sub and found they were highly corroded. In
fact, one of the rivets just punched right through.
If we took the sediment away, the sub could basically
unzip and come apart. So we found we had to leave
it in the sediment, then replace the sediment gradually,
one sling at a time, until we had all the slings on
board.
"You didn't take my suggestion to wrap it all
in duct tape," Cussler says dryly, and everyone
laughs. Neyland continues:
We found three holes in the hull, the first
in the conning tower, which may have been from gun shots
or small arms' fire. We found the second on the starboard
side, up by the bow and a hole back in the stern area.
So we attached bags to the slings and injected them
with hard foam around the hull to protect it. We looked
at using hard rubber, but some folks at a division of
Dow Chemical said they had this foam, although they'd
never used it under water. We took it to a facility
in Louisiana that has a 30-foot tank and tested it.
It's incredible stuff. After this is over, it's possible
the Navy will begin using it-they've been looking for
something like this for years for salvage. As the foam
was injected in, the water in the bags ejected through
the seams.
Later, Cussler relates, "I think what I like best
about the lab is that they're going to make it a world-class
lab, not just for the Hunley. So many times you bring
up artifacts and there's no way to conserve them, so
you throw them back. Now they can have all sorts of
artifacts coming in from all over the United States
to be conserved."
8 August 2000, Charleston Harbor, 0430
The Land Rover speeds into a dirt parking lot and Clive
Cussler climbs out. It is still pitch dark. Cheerfully,
he walks toward the dock, where a charter boat waits
for him and the media. He is to spend the day on the
press boat. Wearing a NUMA (National Underwater and
Marine Agency) t-shirt and hat, Cussler and his companions
climb to the second deck and settle in. None of the
media takes notice. This amuses Cussler to a degree;
he could go just about anywhere unnoticed, but today
of all days, surely someone will know who he is and
why he is there.
A little bit after 0500, the boat heads out, passing
the aircraft carrier Yorktown (CVS-10) and Fort Sumter.
Lights twinkle in the distance and as the boat gets
closer, the platform of the Karlissa-B comes into view.
A 51.7-meter by 24.4-meter, six-leg barge, equipped
with DeLong jacks and a 318-metric-ton Manitowoc platform
ringer crane, the Karlissa-B will be bringing up the
Hunley later in the morning.
As the press boat floats into place near the Karlissa-B,
Cussler watches the scene with tired but excited eyes.
Never in his wildest dreams did he think he would see
the Hunley raised in his lifetime. Yet in five short
years, after his NUMA team discovered the submarine
on 3 May 1995, the dream was now becoming a reality.
8 August 2000, Charleston Harbor, 0830
The water around the Karlissa-B, the recovery barge,
and the press boat swarm with vessels of all descriptions,
hundreds of them, some circling the area, others waiting
patiently. The Hunley should have been raised a half-hour
earlier, but strong winds forced the recovery team to
bring in a large barge to settle the area.
At 0839, the Hunley breaks the surface of the water.
It is still silent. As the Hunley is lowered gently
to the recovery barge, boat horns toot and blast. People
cheer wildly. Cannon are fired from shore in celebration.
"I'm numb-just numb," says Cussler, as his
eyes watch the Hunley. "Everybody assured me this
would go like clockwork, and it did!"
At that moment, it seems the media finally realize
who Cussler is. He is surrounded with microphones. Says
the well-known novelist:
It's much smaller than I thought it was. Everyone
thought it would be much larger. And there were so many
misconceptions about what we thought the sub looked
like. We thought it had a big, square bow, and it doesn't.
It actually curves. We thought it was 36-feet long,
and 3 by 5 feet. It's only 32-feet long and 3 by 4 feet.
Now they're saying the guys in it couldn't have been
more than five-foot-two. The technology at that time
was incredibly advanced. This set the foundation for
all future submarines. What made me keep looking for
it? I was convinced it was here, and by God, it was
here!
The press boat keeps pace with the recovery barge as
it is towed to the conservation lab by two tugboats.
Hundreds of other boats follow, horns blasting every
once in a while. As they pass Fort Sumter, the fort's
flag is at half mast and cannon are fired. They pass
Fort Moultrie, and men in Civil War uniform render a
21-gun salute. They pass the Yorktown, and military
men and women stand at attention. Church bells begin
ringing on shore, one after another.
After 136 years, the Hunley and her crew of nine finally
have come home.
|