Around the World Submerged: The Voyage of the Triton

A glance at any chart of the ocean depths will show that one of the deepest spots in the Pacific Ocean is the so-called Philippine Trench, lying on a north-and-south axis just to the east of the Philippine archipelago. As Triton approached the Trench, I remember looking with interest at the repeater scope of our search sonar. We were in a sea of nothingness. The limits of the huge trench were well beyond the range of sonar, the bottom so far away as to be like a void.

Our objective was Surigao Strait, and according to our chart the depth of water would reduce suddenly from thousands of fathoms to less than one hundred, if we were able to pick the spot accurately where the Strait entered the Philippine archipelago. If we missed the mark, the vertical wall of the Trench implacably stood in our path.

Silently and at reduced speed, our great ship glided toward the barrier, probing for the relatively small notch at the top which would be our entry point. Our navigation was accurate; that we knew. We had learned to have considerable faith in it over the weeks since we had left New London. But even so, there might be some unexpected current, some unexplained drift of the ocean waters which would sweep us a little bit one way or the other and cause us to miss the tiny V-shaped notch in the top of the wall toward which we were bound. Faced with the massiveness of nature, the hundreds and thousands of cubic miles of material deposited here, almost as though by design to bar our way, even the powerful and mighty Triton, the supreme effort thus far of man’s competition with his environment, suddenly appeared insignificant.

As we approached the barrier, my concern rose and little feelings of anxiety pricked at my subconscious. What if the channel we sought were not there? How could we retrieve the shattering catastrophe of striking the barrier, rather than passing over it?

My brain always did have a tendency to be overimaginative, I thought, as I pushed the unbidden doubts to the back of my mind. We had slowed our headlong pace, were cautiously and carefully searching for the passage. It was there, and we would find it.

Again, Will Adams’ navigation held true. The low spot in the massive wall ahead of us which was Surigao Strait showed up beautifully on the sonar, and correlation with our previously calibrated indications showed us a depth, at the entrance, of well over a hundred fathoms. Not much, surely, compared with the nearly six thousand-fathom depth only a mile or two to the east, but more than enough for us.

At 0743 on the morning of March 31st, Triton entered Surigao Strait.

From the Log:

We have been taking water samples of the various bodies of water through which we have passed during this voyage. One of the things for which the water samples can be used is the Naval Academy’s annual Ring Dance. Part of the ceremony for the Ring Dance is to christen the class rings of the new senior midshipmen in the waters of the seven seas. As can be appreciated, getting an authentic sample of water from a remote spot of the world is sometimes difficult. We may, at least, help them out. Additionally, the class of 1945, less than a year ago, donated a small-boat navigational light to the Academy and named it the Triton Light, without realizing, apparently, that their light and our ship have something very much in common. So we shall also send USS Triton’s own unique tribute to the Triton Light.

Here, in Surigao Strait, there is a special reason for collecting water, and a special sample of it is going to be sent to Admiral Jesse P. Oldendorf, USN (ret.). Admiral Oldendorf had command of a squadron of cruisers, destroyers, and elderly battleships, which, it will be remembered, “crossed the T” at the Battle of Surigao Strait. It was here that the repaired and regenerated California, Tennessee, West Virginia, Maryland, and Pennsylvania returned the wounds they had received at Pearl Harbor on the day the war began. It was probably the last time the “T” will be crossed in battle.

“Whitey” Rubb [additional duty as water collector] assures me that there are indeed great streaks of rust to be found in the Surigao Strait water—and that, upon close inspection, it is indubitably identified as rust from old and long-sunk Japanese warship hulls. We think Admiral Oldendorf will appreciate a sample of this body of water, and though he may not have the precise instruments Whitey and I do for detection of the rust streaks, I am sure he can devise an adequate test of his own.

At this point, with the opportunity before me to write a fuller history of Triton’s pilgrimage, it must be admitted that our tests for rust in the Surigao Strait water would hardly stand up against careful laboratory examination. As a matter of candid fact, they existed only in Whitey Rubb’s and my minds, for the entire episode was one of sentiment, not science.