The Death of the USS Thresher – Norman Polmar
The USS Thresher was a state of the art nuclear powered attack submarine operated by the US Navy, commissioned in 1961. During sea trials in the North Atlantic in early 1963, after an extensive overhaul, she encountered difficulties, dropped deeper than her hull’s crush depth (the depth beyond which the hull is unable to withstand the surrounding water pressure), and imploded, killing the 129 men on board. Her remains were located in 2,500 metres of water not long after she was lost, and were further photographed by Robert Ballard on his way to search for the Titanic. The USS Thresher was rated to about 400 metres – at that time, the deepest of any submarine.
This book was first published in 1964, but has been updated and the latest edition is 2004’s. The recent updates allowed the author to include previously classified information. Submarine sinkings subsequent to the USS Thresher, such as the Russian submarine Kursk in 2000 (you can read Cry from the Deep for more on that), give extra perspective to the earlier sinking, and allow comparison between the approach of the respective governments to such catastrophic loss of life.
While the Russian government obfuscated, refused foreign assistance, and lied until long after it was clear that their men were beyond rescue, the US Navy acted swiftly and compassionately. They immediately informed the families of the men on board the Thresher that she was lost, presumed sunk, and shared as much information as possible as they searched for the submarine. The upper echelons of the Russian military alternately claimed that they were doing all they could to rescue the men in the Kursk (they weren’t), and that they had died instantly (they didn’t) so rescue efforts were futile. No discussion of the relative merits of democracy and communism (and its after-effects) are necessary to persuade one that being an American submariner 1960 was far, far preferable to being a Russian submariner in the 21st century.
Those who have read The Terrible Hours (and I’d recommend it) will be familiar with some of the submarine rescue techniques Polmar mentions, as well as several of the leading players in the US submarine service and associated organisations. Sadly, even though submarine technology has advanced massively since the early 20th century, it doesn’t seem to (my untutored eye) that the probability of accident – collision, total loss, whatever – has commensurately decreased.
I read this book sitting on a balcony overlooking one of the watering holes at Mokolodi Nature Reserve just outside Gaborone, surrounded by animals in their natural environment. This was an exercise in strange juxtapositions. Submariners are, like scuba divers, operating in an environment that is hostile to human life. Their pressurised tube of metal filled with air has countless moving parts, enabling them to travel at great depth and speeds, with incredible stealth, and to fire weapons of dizzying sophistication. The problem with lots of moving parts is that moving parts break, rupture, corrode, seize up, fail and explode. It’s believed that a small pipe soldered with silver failed, allowing water inside the Thresher. Ordinarily this wouldn’t cause a problem, but combined with an inability to ascend – perhaps caused by an electronic failure related to the water leak – caused the submarine to sink rapidly. As the outside water pressure increased the leak would have become more and more powerful, until the entire submarine was ripped apart and flooded by the surrounding ocean.
When I was a child I was obsessed with submarines, and would have given anything to have a ride on one. Now, however, I’m happy enough visiting one at the Navy Festival in Simon’s Town each year. Moored to the dock, with hatches open!
You can get the Kindle edition of Polmar’s book here, and the printed book here or here.
