Around the World Submerged: The Voyage of the Triton

During this time, Admiral Rickover seemed completely engrossed in his book. He rarely looked up, never changed his position, acknowledged with a brief nod Les Kelly’s shouted reports of the progress of the various tests which were being runoff.

One of the axioms of building a power plant is that all its components must be designed with a large safety factor, for one never knows just which component, or combination of components, will prove to be the weakest element in the chain, and thus limit the power. In the Navy, Admiral Rickover’s nuclear plants were already famous for exceptional dependability. It was soon evident that the Admiral was of a mind to maintain that reputation insofar as Triton’s two-reactor plant was concerned. This was, at least, the only interpretation I could place upon his reaction to the trouble which shortly afterward developed in our starboard spring bearing.

Since Triton’s starboard propeller is driven by the forward engine, it follows that the starboard propeller shaft must be much the longer of the two. About midway in its length, its great weight had necessitated installation of a “spring bearing”—merely a line or support bearing to keep it turning true—and it was here, in the most ordinary of standard mechanisms, that the evil little god of misfortune had decreed that difficulty should develop. The first sign of trouble was a rise in the lubricating oil temperature.

Ordinarily, when in receipt of such a report, the immediate thing to do is slow down; but since the initial sea trials were being run by Admiral Rickover, I first sought him out to see what he desired. His red-bound book lay closed on the tool box by the de-aerating feed tank, and I found him down in the lower level of number two auxiliary machinery compartment, where the offending spring bearing was located high in the starboard after corner. When I arrived, the entire group of designers and engineers aboard for the trials were already present; and the gray-haired birdlike Admiral had climbed up into the corner for a close inspection, squeezing his wiry frame into the cramped space between the swiftly rotating propeller shaft and the curved hull of the ship, alongside the huge steel box containing the bearing.

“We’re going to have to cut the power, Ned,” said one of the bystanders, an Electric Boat supervisor. “It’s too bad, but we can’t take a chance on wiping this bearing.”

This was the evaluation I sensed from everyone present. The decision, however, was Rickover’s, as the officer responsible for the initial sea trials. He had evidently been listening to the bearing with a large screwdriver held against his head, and I got there just as Les Kelly handed up a stethoscope taken from one of our repair kits.

Long minutes passed while Rickover listened at various spots on the bearing housing. There was a grim set to his jaw when he descended at last from his perch alongside the housing. “There’s not a thing wrong with the bearing,” he said shortly. “It’s working exactly as designed, but it’s not designed right.”

“We’ve already proved the designed power of the ship, Admiral,” said the Electric Boat representative who had spoken with me. “We’ll get right on the bearing as soon as we get back to the Boat Division. I’m sure our designers can figure out what’s wrong….”

“The only thing wrong is that it needs more cooling. Any fool can see that,” cut in Rickover. “Besides, we’re not going back. Not yet—Kelly!” Abruptly he shifted his attention to Triton’s Chief Engineer. “Rig a hose. Get a constant spray of water going on the bearing housing. Set a special watch on the lube oil temperature!”

“But Admiral,” protested the EB man, “there’s no need to subject the bearing to additional stress. We’ve already satisfied the design specs, and there’s no point to going further …”

Admiral Rickover’s voice held a curiously flat, monotonous tone, which I had heard before. “We’re here to find out if this ship is satisfactory for war. I’ll not let this piece of lousy designing stop the trial, and I’ll take the responsibility if it breaks down!” There was a singular lack of emphatic expression in the way Rickover spoke, effectively belied by the flinty look in his eyes.

Within minutes, Les Kelly had a squad of his men dragging a rubber hose to the vicinity, and a spray of salt water was played upon the steel box enclosing the defective bearing and its oil supply. A constant check of the oil temperature was set up, with results reported to Admiral Rickover and, upon my private instructions to Les, to me. In the meantime, Triton had not slowed her headlong dash through the water, and after a few more minutes, to our relief, the lube oil temperature from the starboard propeller shaft spring bearing stopped its steady rise.