Broken Border

USS Texas – SSN 775 North Pacific Ocean The giant sea monster glides silently at 35 knots, 1,400 feet below the surface of the North Pacific Ocean. It moves through the depths more quietly than a Seawolf class submarine, which is 30 times quieter than the original Los Angeles class. The Virginia Class subs are “black holes” in a black ocean. They are the pride of the General Dynamics' Electric Boat Company. The Texas (SSN 775) is one of three Virginia class submarines. In 2006 dollars, the Texas cost $2.3 billion, making it less expensive than the $4 billion Seawolf. There are only a handful of Seawolf submarines, all built to counter the Soviet threat. Still, it can be argued the Virginia class submarine is more efficient and better suited to the realities of the present world. Twenty feet longer than the Seawolf, the Texas is a deep water and littoral (shallow water) leviathan. It also has a “sea trunk” - the Advanced SEAL Delivery System (ASDS). Texas’ sea trunk carried the StingRay. Submerged, the submarine is a stable, smooth and quiet platform. The only sound is ambient air circulating. It is like having the manual air conditioner on in a motel room, but not as loud. It is a steady “white noise” sound. Although submarines are quiet places in a noisy underwater world, the Captain’s cabin provides a special solitude not enjoyed by the other officers and crew. Inside his small cabin - next to the control room - is an equally small fold-down desk with a safe in it. The Texas had been underway for several hours when forty-two-year-old Captain Mark Rittenhaus, U.S. Naval Academy class of 1987, take his first breather. He repairs to his stateroom and, in a time-honored Navy tradition, opens the safe. He retrieves a slip of paper and reads his orders for a second time. 1. Proceed without detection to a point in Korea Bay as near as possible to the mouth of the Yalu River. 2. Discharge cargo. 3. Return to base at best speed. 4. Consider guests Flag rank. Good luck. Rittenhaus returns the orders to the safe, closes the metal door and spins the tumbler. His stateroom adjoined his Executive Officer’s (XO) stateroom. The Captain has the only space on the submarine with one berth. His small stateroom also functioned as his office. He and the XO are literally only steps fore of the Control Room. They share the head. The XO’s stateroom is the only space with two berths, an upper and a lower rack. Wells and Jon flip for the lower berth and Wells won. The Texas normally carries 14 officers; however, there were only 13 aboard for this mission, making room for Bob Wells and Jon. The XO temporarily moved in with the more junior officers, who bunked four to a stateroom. The Captain takes all of six steps to the head, relieves himself, and nimbly handles the valves necessary to flush the toilet. He then heads to the Ward Room, one level below the control room. The Ward Room is as steady and stable as any land office, betraying no sense of motion at depth. It is the officer’s dining room, lounge, conference room, study room, planning room, and everything else room. Its walls are paneled in artificial walnut, or some kind of artificial dark wood. Although not large, the space provides a comfortable, almost cozy, place for up to ten people to meet at one time. “Gentlemen,” the Captain says as he enters the Ward Room, “please excuse me for not being here sooner. I hope you are being well taken care of by my XO and COB." The Chief of the Boat is known as COB. Rittenhaus side-steps to the small counter area, to his right, for a cup and saucer. “May I offer you some coffee?” The Captain pours his own in a china cup, a replica of the china used in the Texas Governor’s mansion. The red border stan for bravery, and the blue rim for loyalty. He also helps himself to two cookies, attractively laid out on a china plate with seven more cookies. “Have you tried the cookies?” he asks. “Our cooks are the best in the Navy, bar none.” “Thank you, Captain,” answers Wells. “Everyone has been extremely helpful. I’m sorry for any inconvenience our joining you may have caused.” “Not at all, sir. It is our pleasure to have you aboard." Wells points to Jon with upward palm. “This is Jon London, and I’m Bob Wells. Jon instantly decides he and Rittenhaus are cut from the same cloth. A nautical chart is spread out on the green vinyl covered table. “Maybe you can help us with our map reading skills,” says Jon in a friendly tone. “My pleasure,” Rittenhaus replies, joining the two at the table. He hunches over the chart and spreads his hands on it. The Captain orients himself to the island of Guam. “Originally,” said Wells, “we were planning to depart from Japan.” “Too many eyes around there, I’d guess,” responds Rittenhaus, without looking up from the chart. “Right. We’d prefer taking as few chances as possible.” Jon watches as Rittenhaus begins to trace with his index finger the "transit" to their destination. With experienced familiarity, he draws an imaginary line north/northwest from the Philippine Sea toward the East China Sea and the Yellow Sea. They will pass Nanjing, China. From Jon’s angle, it looks to be halfway between the East China Sea and the Yellow Sea. The Captain takes a sip of black coffee. When he does, he glances at the LED readouts on the Ward Room wall displaying Texas’ course, depth, and speed. It is as if there is some connection between his taking a sip of coffee and looking at the readout. Wells yawns. “I don’t know how you guys keep up this pace weeks and months on end,” he says with genuine admiration. He rolls his shoulders and stretches his neck as if they are stiff. Rittenhaus clicks his Annapolis class ring against the ceramic coffee cup indicating his secret weapon was hot, black Navy coffee. “I never could get use to that stuff without sugar and cream,” Wells says in response, nodding his head toward the coffee cup. “You must have been an Air Force officer,” teases Rittenhaus. He doesn’t see Jon look at Wells and raise an eyebrow. The Captain picks up where he left off, drawing a line with his finger on the chart from the Yellow Sea. Then he pauses. “We’ll give the Shandong Peninsula a wide berth,” he announces, circling the spot on the chart with his finger, “then head toward Dalian, China before turning north/northeast into Korea Bay.” Nodding, Jon comments, “Where I’m from ‘bay’ means shallow water.” “We’re built for shallow water operations. We’re going from the deepest ocean on the planet – and the earth’s lowest point - to a sea with an average depth of 150 feet, 400 feet maximum.”