side of the hangar door, the helo crew ran through the preflight checklist.
In the radar shack behind the bridge, John Preston perched on a bench, straining at his sound-powered headphones for clues about the situation. The fire controlman grasped for soothing thoughts. Everything is going to be all right, because weâre on the mighty Samuel B. Roberts and Commander Rinn is going to save the day for us again . He longed to stick his head out of his windowless room for a look around, and thought about the engineers far below in their cramped machinery rooms: I wonder whether this is what they feel like. 8
DAVE WALKER, THE shipâs gas turbine chief and all-around Mr. Fixit, was heading forward for some chow after his four-hour watch when the GQ call came. Walker turned around and went back to Central Control Station (CCS), the shipâs engineering nerve center.
The other engineers were already prepping the ship for battle, twisting knobs and punching buttons on the floor-to-ceiling control panels that divided the space. The panels, covered in dials and gauges and switches, stretched from the yellow-flecked linoleum up to the cable runs above. They sent electronic commands to equipment around the ship, and described conditions in blinking lights.
Most of the equipment they monitored was in the four main engineering spaces under Walkerâs feet, noisy and crowded compartments where sailors wore earplugs and hollered to make themselves understood. Engineers called them the âmain spaces,â or simply âthe hole.â
The forwardmost was Auxiliary Machine Room 1 (AMR 1), which held a pair of fuel tanks and one of the frigateâs four diesel-powered electrical generators. Immediately aft of AMR 1, and twice its size, was AMR 2, which held two of the big generators, plus fuel pumps, air conditioners, and two of the shipâs five fire pumps. Next came the main engine room. This was the biggest space in the frigate and yet one of its most packed, thanks to a capacious pair of fuel tanks and the truck-sized soundproofed enclosures that held the gas turbines. Finally, there was AMR 3, which held one generator and the shipâs freshwater distillers directly below Central Control.
Walker watched as Gas Turbine Systems Technician 1st Class Michael Wallingford manipulated the main propulsion panel. One deck down, the starboard gas turbine rumbled to life. Walker flipped a switch, sending throttle control to the helmsman on the bridge, and then lifted a heavy brass-rimmed handset. âBridge, CCS. Second turbineâs up; you have program control.â 9
Behind Walker and Wallingford was another tall panel, lined with L-shaped circuit-breaker handles like a stand of fiddlehead ferns. It sketched the state of the shipâs electrical grid in lights and indicator gauges. Two of the four generators were already online, pumping out a thousand kilowatts apiece. But general-quarters doctrine prescribed one more, and so Chief Electricianâs Mate Robert C. Bent was working through the start-up sequence for generator number one in AMR 1.
As the hulking diesel powered up, Bent watched the tachometer needle, which tracked the engineâs shaft speed. The needle shot past the red line, a light flared, and an automatic safety override shut the engine down at 1,800 rpm. That was odd. Walker sent Electricianâs Mate 1st Class Jim Whitley to investigate. Bent flipped switches to bring up generator number four instead. 10
Then the chief electrician called Electricianâs Mate 2nd Class John Kolynitis, who was in the auxiliary propulsion room waiting to lowerthe outboard motors into the water. Bent told Kolynitis to seek higher ground after the pods were in the water.
That sounded like a good idea to Walker. On the fifth deck, the lowest one, you could look past your boots to the half-inch steel skin of the ship. With mines about, it only made sense to get everyone up to higher ground. Walker
In the radar shack behind the bridge, John Preston perched on a bench, straining at his sound-powered headphones for clues about the situation. The fire controlman grasped for soothing thoughts. Everything is going to be all right, because weâre on the mighty Samuel B. Roberts and Commander Rinn is going to save the day for us again . He longed to stick his head out of his windowless room for a look around, and thought about the engineers far below in their cramped machinery rooms: I wonder whether this is what they feel like. 8
DAVE WALKER, THE shipâs gas turbine chief and all-around Mr. Fixit, was heading forward for some chow after his four-hour watch when the GQ call came. Walker turned around and went back to Central Control Station (CCS), the shipâs engineering nerve center.
The other engineers were already prepping the ship for battle, twisting knobs and punching buttons on the floor-to-ceiling control panels that divided the space. The panels, covered in dials and gauges and switches, stretched from the yellow-flecked linoleum up to the cable runs above. They sent electronic commands to equipment around the ship, and described conditions in blinking lights.
Most of the equipment they monitored was in the four main engineering spaces under Walkerâs feet, noisy and crowded compartments where sailors wore earplugs and hollered to make themselves understood. Engineers called them the âmain spaces,â or simply âthe hole.â
The forwardmost was Auxiliary Machine Room 1 (AMR 1), which held a pair of fuel tanks and one of the frigateâs four diesel-powered electrical generators. Immediately aft of AMR 1, and twice its size, was AMR 2, which held two of the big generators, plus fuel pumps, air conditioners, and two of the shipâs five fire pumps. Next came the main engine room. This was the biggest space in the frigate and yet one of its most packed, thanks to a capacious pair of fuel tanks and the truck-sized soundproofed enclosures that held the gas turbines. Finally, there was AMR 3, which held one generator and the shipâs freshwater distillers directly below Central Control.
Walker watched as Gas Turbine Systems Technician 1st Class Michael Wallingford manipulated the main propulsion panel. One deck down, the starboard gas turbine rumbled to life. Walker flipped a switch, sending throttle control to the helmsman on the bridge, and then lifted a heavy brass-rimmed handset. âBridge, CCS. Second turbineâs up; you have program control.â 9
Behind Walker and Wallingford was another tall panel, lined with L-shaped circuit-breaker handles like a stand of fiddlehead ferns. It sketched the state of the shipâs electrical grid in lights and indicator gauges. Two of the four generators were already online, pumping out a thousand kilowatts apiece. But general-quarters doctrine prescribed one more, and so Chief Electricianâs Mate Robert C. Bent was working through the start-up sequence for generator number one in AMR 1.
As the hulking diesel powered up, Bent watched the tachometer needle, which tracked the engineâs shaft speed. The needle shot past the red line, a light flared, and an automatic safety override shut the engine down at 1,800 rpm. That was odd. Walker sent Electricianâs Mate 1st Class Jim Whitley to investigate. Bent flipped switches to bring up generator number four instead. 10
Then the chief electrician called Electricianâs Mate 2nd Class John Kolynitis, who was in the auxiliary propulsion room waiting to lowerthe outboard motors into the water. Bent told Kolynitis to seek higher ground after the pods were in the water.
That sounded like a good idea to Walker. On the fifth deck, the lowest one, you could look past your boots to the half-inch steel skin of the ship. With mines about, it only made sense to get everyone up to higher ground. Walker
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