Lulu

Before I came to Woods Hole the only sea time I had done was with the navy and there was damn little of that. I was lucky, in 8 years in the Navy, I went to sea only twice for a couple of weeks each time. All that changed with my first day at work in the Alvin group. In the Navy the smallest ship I’d been on was over 700 ft. long and had more than 3000 men. No women in those days.

Now I was sailing on the R/V Lulu. She was a catamaran of sorts 105 ft. long and 48 ft. of beam. While the berthing for 26 people was Spartan, she had about a 3 -week endurance. We sailed on my first day at work and went out to Georges banks for a 14 day trip doing Alvin ops and return to Woods Hole. The Lulu was not a sea kindly vessel. In fact she was brutal to live and work on. Her nickname was “The Twin Tubes of Terror” and it was well earned. In any kind of sea state she had this corkscrew motion to her that would turn the saltiest sailor green.

Lulu’s hulls were made up of surplus WW II mine sweeping pontoons. They had very thick hulls and were towed behind wooden ships to attract magnetic mines. The pontoons were towed to Woods Hole and the fabrication of Lulu began.

Lulu was born of the need to get the then new submersible Alvin in and out of the water. The two pontoons were joined fore and aft by arches and a deck was built atop that about 12 ft. above the waterline. The center of this deck was a cradle that held Alvin and could be lowered on 4 cables to float the sub between the hulls. Alvin would then back out under its own power. The opposite was true for recovery. 20 ft. shipping containers were placed on deck to be used as workshops by the Alvin techs. This early version of Lulu was towed to where ever they wanted to dive and had no berthing accommodations. By the time I came aboard in 1982 things were very different.

She now had 2 diesel engines that gave her a top speed of 5kts. Forward or backward by the way. The Starboard pontoon was converted to berthing for 19 people. A typical room was about the size of  three phone booths, stacked lying on their sides. This held two bunks and two lockers that were 3ft tall and 18” per side. Pretty tight, you didn’t have much of a wardrobe. An accordion door closed the gap to the passage way. There was so little space in the room that you had to step out into the passageway just to get your pants on. All of this was below the waterline. While tied to the dock you could hear the waves lap against the hull at night and hear the water rush by while under weigh.

One deck up from there was the head. There were 2 toilets with these annoying seats that were spring loaded in the up position. Every one hated them. Although there were 3 sinks they were segregated into: the captains sink and the other 2 that you could use.

Sailors can be a quirky bunch. The large stainless steel shower stall had 2 shower heads but by unwritten law it held one man at a time. Navy showers were the rule as the Lulu was weak in the water department and was always a problem. Woe be to you if the captain or the chief engineer should walk through the head while you were taking a Hollywood shower! Over in the corner was the laundry. A space saving stackable washer and dryer for an apartment. It was used by all 26 aboard as well as all the laundry from the galley. This was a busy machine.

Just forward of the head was the crews lounge. You could seat 4 people in there where the TV and VCR were. It was very tight in there and of course being the early eighties, we were smoking there too.

I think it was the main deck of Lulu that did the most to dispel any confidence you had started to build in the vessel. The deck was made of open grating with a one inch spacing. Many people were unnerved by looking down and seeing the water right there. It had to be that way though especially up by the bow. If it was solid the awesome power of the sea as the bow of the boat pitched down would tear it apart. The open grating allowed the wave to pass up through. Good for the ship but a difficult place to be standing. This was only a problem while under weigh.

When working on the sub you had to be careful. There was a 12 to 18 inch gap around the sub near the cradle. If you dropped anything it was gone with a splash. Jon Borden did this right. He had only been on the job a week. This was his first trip. While in port, Ralph who was also the head E.T. bough a new digital Fluke multi-meter. He told Jon “This is the good meter. It is not to leave the shop” “Yes Ralph”. Well, just a couple of days later Ralph was inside the sub doing his pre-dive. One of the instruments in the basket didn’t check out so he called out to Jon to check for voltage on pins 2 and 3 of connector so and so. Jon went into the van for a meter but all he could find was Ralph’s new Fluke. “Well it’s only for a minute”. He brought it out to the sub and began to check the connector. A tricky thing, you have to hold the connector in one hand while using the 2 meter probes in the other. He balanced the meter on his knee, on a rolling ship. On queue the meter rolled off his knee and fell through the gap next to the sub coming taught on the meter leads to jerk them out and end in a splash that he never heard over the engines. Oops. Jon was never let live that one down. Hell, I’m writing about it 25+ years later. After we were on the AII if you dropped a wrench and it clanged on the deck some one would yell “Splash”.

Working on Lulu’s deck was tough. If we were under weigh and heading into the seas many waves would come crashing up through the grating to end up as heavy spray for the length of the boat. Trying to work on the sub which was centered on deck and a bit aft put you right in the prime spray zone. If it was raining we would have to rig tarps. In rough weather life-lines were stung across the common routes on deck. To get from one pontoon to the other you had to have good timing lest you be out on deck when a wave came up through the grating. It would lift you off your feet.

The Lulu was registered with the Coast Guard as an outboard motor boat. All the way aft on each side of the main deck were 871 Cummings Diesels. They each powered a Tragurtha unit that drove the prop on each side. The Tragurtha unit allowed each prop to steered 360 degrees which in turn were controlled by 2 joysticks up on the bridge. This was no ordinary motor boat. Usually under weigh one prop was locked forward and the other was used for steerage. During the day they would use the Starboard prop for steerage as it was noisy switching back and forth and use the port one at night.

The port pontoon held ships machinery i.e.: Generators, Compressors, Machine tolls and shop. Also the ships freezer. One deck up from there was the galley and Mess. The cook on that boat had a tough job. He worked alone in a small space and cooked for 26 3 times a day. He got some help at each meal from the most junior of the 3 deck hands

Who would help serve and clean up. The galley would only seat 12 so the theme was to sit, eat and get out. You could sit anywhere you wanted to but one seat. That was the captain’s seat. Don’t even go there. The only person who could sit there was the chief engineer and only after the captain was done with it.

The food was always good and plentiful. On the Lulu we got 2 beers and 2 sodas a day. Not bad. Many a colorful personality fill the cooks role over the years but during my time aboard it was Joe Robero. Behind his back he was known as “The Rib Roast”. He hailed from the Azores and I guess was about 55 when I first got there. A rotund man that was more comfortable in his native Portuguese than English. Joe was definitely old school. He was a life-long sailor and was rumored to have a family in the Azores as well as one in New Bedford. Joe was an in your face sort of guy and I guess I was intimidated by him at first. There was the time my 3^rd day on the job that he jumped knee deep in my shit for using a new spoon to stir my coffee. I hadn’t seen the 'duty spoon' marinating there in that glass of tepid brown water. I thought I was on his bad side forever. Later I would learn that it’s just Joe, get over it.

From day one Joe called me Leo. I don’t know why. Maybe he misunderstood me when I said “Will”. Whatever. I was Leo. As I said I was a bit intimidated by him so I didn’t correct him at first. When I finally did he said “Too late, you’re Leo”. And I was. When we transferred Alvin over to the AII Joe came with us and in the galley I was Leo for another couple of years. Joe was a good shipmate, but he was Joe.

All that’s left is Lulu’s bridge. Manned by the captain and the mate, they stood a 6 on and 6 off rotation. A brutal schedule that can’t be maintained more than a couple of weeks because launch or recovery of the sub happened during one of your 6 off. Sleep deprivation eventually sets in. The engine gang stood the same watch.

The bridge was one deck up from the main deck. The higher you go the more motion you get. The Lulu was merciless to begin with but only the strongest of stomach went up there. On my first trip I was seasick as soon as we cleared Vineyard Sound. I was up on deck at dawn to do my job but man, was I miserable. I was sick down to my toenails. My worst hangover was never this bad and it wasn’t going away.

We were a week or so into the trip and I was sitting in the sun on deck while the sub was down. Up to this point I had been there for launch and recoveries but otherwise I was in my rack the rest of the time. I couldn’t shake the seasickness. Ralph walks up to me and says “If you have something to do it will keep your mind off of it.” He had me run a D.C. power cable up to the ships radio. This was a 2 hour job up on the bridge. Ralph had a sadistic streak. If you can’t hack it get off my boat.

Well I hacked it but I was sick as hell right up to the moment we tied up in Woods Hole. I must have lost 10 pounds. We had a week in port then were due to go back out to the same place for another 2 weeks. “We’ll see” I thought at the time. A week later the painful memories had faded to the point that I would give it another try but If I didn’t get over it I was going to have to quit. As it turns out we cleared Vineyard Sound and headed into a fairly rough sea but I was eating those first night, at-sea pork chops with every one else. I haven’t been sea sick since.

After those two trips we were in port for a couple of weeks before setting out for St. Croix in the USVI. But first we stopped in Freeport. My first foreign port! What a disappointment! The Lulu tied up next to the fuel pier, never the nicest part of any port and usually located miles from anywhere. After getting a taxi we found that there are few places to go, just hotel lounges and the big draw, the casino. At the time Freeport’s claim to fame was the casino. Located just 90 miles from the USA when the only legal gambling was in Las Vegas. We were there for a couple of days to take on fuel and it was on to St. Croix.

We had great weather on the way south and docked in Fredrickstead. There are two towns on the island; Fredrickstead is the quiet one on the other side of the island from the capital, Christanstead, where the cruise ships pull in. There was always something going on there. The rest of the island was deadly quiet at night. A gal who tended bar not far from where the ship was docked said there are three things to do at night: you can go to Fredrickstead or you can go to Christianstead or you can go to bed instead. We spent most of the time there doing day operations and V.I.P. dives so we were pulling up to the dock every night. A sailor’s money doesn’t go far under those circumstances.

We spent an eventful month there. One evening some of the guys were sitting on deck and talking over a few beers. The pier Lulu was tied to was about 100 yard long and has a 12 curb all the way around it. We were tied up most of the way down the pier. The night was quiet when a sedan came down the pier and rammed into the abutment at the end of the pier without ever having slowed down. They were going about 25 or 30 when they came to an abrupt stop. They guys on deck bolted off the ship to see if they could help. Just as they got there 2 men get out of the car, one of them limping badly. As my friends approached, the driver flashed some sort of I.D. and said “Secret service” and the two of them walked down the pier and into the night just leaving the car there. When daylight came we got a good look at the car. It was bent right under the windshield so the center of the car had 12 inches more ground clearance. Impressive!

While all this was going on me and the boys were in Cristianstead partying at a bar called Torchies. We were hanging out that night with the first engineer’s girlfriend, Sue. Wayne had the watch on board Lulu that night and couldn’t join us. Sue was a real looker, Very pretty with a great body and those big American breasts. I guess that’s why we were in Torchies that night. It was the weekly wet T-shirt contest and Sue wanted to win it.

The contest took place out back in the courtyard/bar. Along the back of the courtyard was a flat bed trailer that would serve as the stage. Torchies was fairly crowded that night, maybe 150 people out there milling about waiting for the show to start. Since Sue was a contestant she kept getting free bottles of champagne that we were chugging down on the dance floor. By the time the contest got started we were all buzzing pretty good.

As the six contestants got up there on the stage it looked to me like Sue was going to have no trouble winning this one. After the first round of elimination it came down to Sue and one other girl that had large breasts but large shoulders to match. Sue on the other hand had the crowd going wild prancing around the stage in a wet, skin tight white T shirt with no bra. It was coming down to the final vote when Sue’s competition decided to add a talent component to the show and did a couple of cartwheels. She should have stuck with one because half way through the second one she went right off the end of the stage and into the bushes ending her participation in the night’s activities. Sue, not to be out done reached down and grabbed the bottom of her shirt pulling it up over her head to end any speculation as to who the winner was. Sue walked off the stage 500 bucks richer.

Down on the dance floor Jon and I were hoarse from shouting. While we were congratulating Sue who should walk out of the crowd but Bob Ballard with this other guy. Bob had come to St. Croix to be a Woods Hole ambassador for some V.I.P. dives we were doing. Jon, without a moments hesitation walks right up to Bob and lays a lip lock on him. Bob was clearly taken aback and said “I bet you wouldn’t do that to this guy” and without a blink that’s what Jon did. If Bob was surprised this guy was absolutely shocked! How was Jon supposed to know that he was the Secretary of the Navy? His body guards who were a few steps back were not pleased at all.

The next morning we were nursing massive hangovers and getting the sub ready for the days dive. About 9 am the Secretary and his entourage came aboard and avoided us like the plague. One of the men in the SEC/NAV’s party was limping badly and some of the guys recognized him from the car on the pier the night before. He turned out to be the SEC/NAv’s brother in law!