thedrifter
08-05-03, 05:20 AM
Retiring America's Flagship
By James W. Crawley
UNION-TRIBUNE STAFF WRITER
August 4, 2003
The four giant steam turbines are still, the vast flight deck barren.
Miles of passageways are eerily quiet and empty for the first time in more than 41 years. The galley's stainless steel kettles are cool to the touch.
The padded lounge chairs in the squadron ready rooms have been hauled away.
And in a few days, the aircraft carrier Constellation will be crewless.
The flattop known as America's Flagship will be decommissioned Thursday in a ceremony at the North Island Naval Air Station pier that has been the warship's home for much of its service.
The Constellation – 1,069 feet long and displacing about 80,000 tons – was the world's largest warship when it was commissioned Oct. 27, 1961. Only the Navy's nuclear-powered carriers surpass it in length and displacement.
Known affectionately as the "Connie," the ship made 21 cruises, including eight combat deployments – seven times off Vietnam in the 1960s and 1970s and in the Persian Gulf during Operation Iraqi Freedom.
Early next month, an oceangoing tug will secure a line to the carrier's bow and begin a two-week-long journey to a ship graveyard in Bremerton, Wash.
While war and accidents couldn't stop the carrier, finite Pentagon budgets did.
The Navy's $114.7 billion fiscal year 2004 budget has enough money to support 12 aircraft carriers. However, with last month's commissioning of the carrier Ronald Reagan, the fleet has 13 flattops.
Keeping the Connie on active status would cost about $500 million annually. Despite the Constellation's $800 million facelift and upgrade 10 years ago, which extended the ship's projected life span to 2008, repair and upgrade costs have been increasing each year, officials said. The Navy is seeking to save money so it can build new ships and aircraft.
Meanwhile, the Reagan – which will be based in San Diego – joins the fleet with the newest computers, communications and electronics, plus the latest high-tech weapons. And, because it's brand new, the initial upkeep costs will be less.
The Constellation "has done so much for the country that it had to build a USS Ronald Reagan to replace it," said the Connie's skipper, Capt. John "Fozzie" Miller.
But shutting down a veritable floating city isn't easy. You don't just turn out the lights, close a hatch and walk away.
"It's an enormous undertaking," Miller said. "Anyone who's moved understands the challenges. We're moving 5,000 people."
Before crew members pack up and leave for new assignments, they have been preparing the ship for mothballing just in case the Constellation will be needed again someday.
Hundreds of thousands of parts and items – perhaps a million – must be inventoried and removed.
"If it's not welded or bolted down, it's leaving the ship," Capt. Mark Petersen-Overton, ship maintenance chief for the Pacific Fleet's aircraft carriers, said recently.
In 4-foot-by-4-foot cardboard boxes lining the hangar deck, crewmen have been depositing a swap meet's worth of cots, water pumps, chairs, exercise equipment, hoses, fire extinguishers, paper shredders, telephones, medical scales and hundreds of items familiar and unfamiliar.
Some equipment, from phones to life rafts to large turbines, is being parceled out to other warships or Navy warehouses. The unwanted remainder will be sold through the Defense Reutilization and Marketing Service.
In all, about $350 million worth of spare parts will be salvaged off the carrier, said Cmdr. Jim Davis, the ship's supply officer.
Some items, like catapult pistons and fire pumps, will remain on board.
"We have to account for all parts – computers, phones, faxes, staplers and staple removers, even classified documents," Miller said.
Items of historical value – such as the ship's silver service and a wooden model of the first Constellation, an 18th-century frigate – have been sent to the Naval Historical Center in Washington for safekeeping.
The decommissioning process is being measured by the inch.
Each morning, a sailor has diligently logged how deep the warship rides in the water.
The massive vessel rose several inches when more than a million gallons of fuel was drained from its tanks in June. On other days, when sailors carted off furniture, phones, mattresses and gear, the ship rose imperceptibly.
Since June 2, the flattop has risen almost 7 feet out of the waters of San Diego Bay.
"You can noticeably see the ship is farther out of the water," said Cmdr. Bob Hickey, the ship's damage control assistant.
Using the ship's draft measurements as a guide, approximately 20,000 tons – 40 million pounds – of material has been removed from the Constellation. For every 250 tons removed, the ship rises an inch, Hickey calculated.
Once gear is offloaded, the crew and private contractors systematically inspect its former home, removing rust and corrosion and repairing any damage.
That means going through more than 2,600 compartments, fuel and water tanks, engine rooms and mechanical spaces, said Cmdr. David Wallace, the ship's officer overseeing the shutdown process.
Sailors have mixed feelings about decommissioning their ship.
"It's kind of cool knowing we're the last crew," said Petty Officer 3rd Class Kelvin Hugley, who was working recently in one of the carrier's crowded engine rooms. "I'm on the last one to steam it."
But, while peeling white sticky paste from his hands a couple of weeks ago, Hugley said repairing pipe insulation, called lagging, is "meaningless."
"We can't understand why are we going through all this work when we're letting the ship die," he said.
Other sailors complained that the carrier's month-late return from its last deployment has caused them to work long, arduous hours when most would like to be home enjoying time with their families after a long wartime cruise.
"This is a six-month effort crammed into 90 days," acknowledged Petersen-Overton, referring to the time between the Constellation's return and its anticipated departure under tow.
While the ship is being shut down, the remaining crew members have been forced to abandon ship, leaving their on-board berthing areas for a hotel barge tied up alongside the Connie.
But for many, the new, albeit temporary, home – with more spacious bunks, larger bathrooms and a quieter atmosphere – was better than the crowded berths aboard the carrier.
"Compared to the ship, this is five-star," said Petty Officer 3rd Class Christian Weibull.
But like anyone moving, Weibull was surprised by all the stuff he had accumulated in 20 months aboard the Constellation. "When I came, I had one sea bag. Now, I have a duffel bag that has three times as much stuff."
He plans to give away or throw out the excess before he ships out later this month to the carrier John F. Kennedy in Florida.
Weeks before the berthing areas were closed, the ship's mess desks stopped serving food.
On June 30, Chief Warrant Officer Leon Quarles sat down in a nearly empty enlisted mess with a tray loaded with sliced turkey, lima beans and corn. It would be the final meal served by the Constellation's galley.
As food service officer, he'd already supervised the transfer of $200,000 worth of food to the carrier Stennis.
"When you shut down the (engine) plant and shut down the mess deck, the crew knows it's a done deal," said Quarles as he savored his lima beans, cooked soft just the way he liked them.
"I deserve the last meal," he said.
The next day, crew members began dismantling the tables and seats, which will be installed on the Ronald Reagan.
While the Constellation shut down, its skipper has kept busy cranking up the pride among his rapidly diminishing crew. He has marked daily musters with awards ceremonies and acknowledgements.
"The most important task is to take care of our sailors," Miller said.
He pushed to get transfer orders completed so sailors wouldn't have to rush to new assignments. Personnel evaluations were completed and classes held to assist moving sailors.
"Taking care of the sailors means they are motivated to take care of the ship," he said.
The effort appeared to pay off.
Weibull, the young petty officer, said, "I'll definitely remember the Connie," the only ship he has served aboard.
"It will be my best ship because you always compare every command with your first ship," he said.
James W. Crawley: (619) 542-4559; jim.crawley@uniontrib.com
continued........
By James W. Crawley
UNION-TRIBUNE STAFF WRITER
August 4, 2003
The four giant steam turbines are still, the vast flight deck barren.
Miles of passageways are eerily quiet and empty for the first time in more than 41 years. The galley's stainless steel kettles are cool to the touch.
The padded lounge chairs in the squadron ready rooms have been hauled away.
And in a few days, the aircraft carrier Constellation will be crewless.
The flattop known as America's Flagship will be decommissioned Thursday in a ceremony at the North Island Naval Air Station pier that has been the warship's home for much of its service.
The Constellation – 1,069 feet long and displacing about 80,000 tons – was the world's largest warship when it was commissioned Oct. 27, 1961. Only the Navy's nuclear-powered carriers surpass it in length and displacement.
Known affectionately as the "Connie," the ship made 21 cruises, including eight combat deployments – seven times off Vietnam in the 1960s and 1970s and in the Persian Gulf during Operation Iraqi Freedom.
Early next month, an oceangoing tug will secure a line to the carrier's bow and begin a two-week-long journey to a ship graveyard in Bremerton, Wash.
While war and accidents couldn't stop the carrier, finite Pentagon budgets did.
The Navy's $114.7 billion fiscal year 2004 budget has enough money to support 12 aircraft carriers. However, with last month's commissioning of the carrier Ronald Reagan, the fleet has 13 flattops.
Keeping the Connie on active status would cost about $500 million annually. Despite the Constellation's $800 million facelift and upgrade 10 years ago, which extended the ship's projected life span to 2008, repair and upgrade costs have been increasing each year, officials said. The Navy is seeking to save money so it can build new ships and aircraft.
Meanwhile, the Reagan – which will be based in San Diego – joins the fleet with the newest computers, communications and electronics, plus the latest high-tech weapons. And, because it's brand new, the initial upkeep costs will be less.
The Constellation "has done so much for the country that it had to build a USS Ronald Reagan to replace it," said the Connie's skipper, Capt. John "Fozzie" Miller.
But shutting down a veritable floating city isn't easy. You don't just turn out the lights, close a hatch and walk away.
"It's an enormous undertaking," Miller said. "Anyone who's moved understands the challenges. We're moving 5,000 people."
Before crew members pack up and leave for new assignments, they have been preparing the ship for mothballing just in case the Constellation will be needed again someday.
Hundreds of thousands of parts and items – perhaps a million – must be inventoried and removed.
"If it's not welded or bolted down, it's leaving the ship," Capt. Mark Petersen-Overton, ship maintenance chief for the Pacific Fleet's aircraft carriers, said recently.
In 4-foot-by-4-foot cardboard boxes lining the hangar deck, crewmen have been depositing a swap meet's worth of cots, water pumps, chairs, exercise equipment, hoses, fire extinguishers, paper shredders, telephones, medical scales and hundreds of items familiar and unfamiliar.
Some equipment, from phones to life rafts to large turbines, is being parceled out to other warships or Navy warehouses. The unwanted remainder will be sold through the Defense Reutilization and Marketing Service.
In all, about $350 million worth of spare parts will be salvaged off the carrier, said Cmdr. Jim Davis, the ship's supply officer.
Some items, like catapult pistons and fire pumps, will remain on board.
"We have to account for all parts – computers, phones, faxes, staplers and staple removers, even classified documents," Miller said.
Items of historical value – such as the ship's silver service and a wooden model of the first Constellation, an 18th-century frigate – have been sent to the Naval Historical Center in Washington for safekeeping.
The decommissioning process is being measured by the inch.
Each morning, a sailor has diligently logged how deep the warship rides in the water.
The massive vessel rose several inches when more than a million gallons of fuel was drained from its tanks in June. On other days, when sailors carted off furniture, phones, mattresses and gear, the ship rose imperceptibly.
Since June 2, the flattop has risen almost 7 feet out of the waters of San Diego Bay.
"You can noticeably see the ship is farther out of the water," said Cmdr. Bob Hickey, the ship's damage control assistant.
Using the ship's draft measurements as a guide, approximately 20,000 tons – 40 million pounds – of material has been removed from the Constellation. For every 250 tons removed, the ship rises an inch, Hickey calculated.
Once gear is offloaded, the crew and private contractors systematically inspect its former home, removing rust and corrosion and repairing any damage.
That means going through more than 2,600 compartments, fuel and water tanks, engine rooms and mechanical spaces, said Cmdr. David Wallace, the ship's officer overseeing the shutdown process.
Sailors have mixed feelings about decommissioning their ship.
"It's kind of cool knowing we're the last crew," said Petty Officer 3rd Class Kelvin Hugley, who was working recently in one of the carrier's crowded engine rooms. "I'm on the last one to steam it."
But, while peeling white sticky paste from his hands a couple of weeks ago, Hugley said repairing pipe insulation, called lagging, is "meaningless."
"We can't understand why are we going through all this work when we're letting the ship die," he said.
Other sailors complained that the carrier's month-late return from its last deployment has caused them to work long, arduous hours when most would like to be home enjoying time with their families after a long wartime cruise.
"This is a six-month effort crammed into 90 days," acknowledged Petersen-Overton, referring to the time between the Constellation's return and its anticipated departure under tow.
While the ship is being shut down, the remaining crew members have been forced to abandon ship, leaving their on-board berthing areas for a hotel barge tied up alongside the Connie.
But for many, the new, albeit temporary, home – with more spacious bunks, larger bathrooms and a quieter atmosphere – was better than the crowded berths aboard the carrier.
"Compared to the ship, this is five-star," said Petty Officer 3rd Class Christian Weibull.
But like anyone moving, Weibull was surprised by all the stuff he had accumulated in 20 months aboard the Constellation. "When I came, I had one sea bag. Now, I have a duffel bag that has three times as much stuff."
He plans to give away or throw out the excess before he ships out later this month to the carrier John F. Kennedy in Florida.
Weeks before the berthing areas were closed, the ship's mess desks stopped serving food.
On June 30, Chief Warrant Officer Leon Quarles sat down in a nearly empty enlisted mess with a tray loaded with sliced turkey, lima beans and corn. It would be the final meal served by the Constellation's galley.
As food service officer, he'd already supervised the transfer of $200,000 worth of food to the carrier Stennis.
"When you shut down the (engine) plant and shut down the mess deck, the crew knows it's a done deal," said Quarles as he savored his lima beans, cooked soft just the way he liked them.
"I deserve the last meal," he said.
The next day, crew members began dismantling the tables and seats, which will be installed on the Ronald Reagan.
While the Constellation shut down, its skipper has kept busy cranking up the pride among his rapidly diminishing crew. He has marked daily musters with awards ceremonies and acknowledgements.
"The most important task is to take care of our sailors," Miller said.
He pushed to get transfer orders completed so sailors wouldn't have to rush to new assignments. Personnel evaluations were completed and classes held to assist moving sailors.
"Taking care of the sailors means they are motivated to take care of the ship," he said.
The effort appeared to pay off.
Weibull, the young petty officer, said, "I'll definitely remember the Connie," the only ship he has served aboard.
"It will be my best ship because you always compare every command with your first ship," he said.
James W. Crawley: (619) 542-4559; jim.crawley@uniontrib.com
continued........