THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Friday, September 22, 1995 TAG: 9509200244
SECTION: PORTSMOUTH CURRENTS PAGE: 03 EDITION: FINAL
COLUMN: Olde Town Journal
SOURCE: Alan Flanders
LENGTH: Long : 148 lines
WHEN MOST HAMPTON ROADS people go to work, they take the family car and start down the road. However, when John Broadwater gets a chance to go to the ``office'' he most prefers, he goes 17 miles out to sea off Cape Hatteras and dives 230 feet below the surface.
As manager of the Monitor National Marine Sanctuary based at Fort Eustis, he thinks a trip off Hatteras and a descent into the waters of the ``Graveyard of the Atlantic'' is the best commute around.
For the last four weeks, Broadwater and a combined team of U.S. Navy and National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration (NOAA) divers have been taking this unusual route to work at the site of the famed Civil War ironclad USS Monitor in hopes of cutting the ship's nine-inch shaft and retrieving the vessel's four-bladed propeller.
Even though they don't have any traffic jams or tunnel backups to contend with like most area commuters, little problems like possible threats from hurricanes Felix and Luis can play havoc with schedules.
``As anyone knows who has been to sea on similar operations, depth, underwater currents and equipment failure can play havoc with your work day,'' Broadwater said. ``That's not to mention the weather we have had recently.''
But a series of hurricanes that have swept up the Gulf Stream along the Atlantic coast and a faulty air hose that would not feed their cutting torch with enough oxygen have not dampened the determination of Broadwater and his team to bring the propeller to the surface.
``I've made many dives on the wreck site,'' Broadwater said. ``But this last expedition was one of the most challenging. Even though we only got to cut an inch into the 9-inch shaft which holds the propeller to the ship, we got some excellent film footage and photographs. And more importantly we now know from seeing how much the stern has caved in, that our time is running out to retrieve other important artifacts from the wreck.''
The last series of dives that Broadwater managed were conducted from the Navy salvage ship Edenton out of Little Creek. If all things had gone according to plan, the Monitor's propeller and a 6- to 8-foot section of the shaft, weighing approximately 8,000 pounds, would have been raised and wrapped in burlap until their arrival at Newport News Shipbuilding.
There further corrosion and marine growth would be removed and the artifacts would then undergo a restoration and conservation program until they were ready for public display at the Mariners' Museum, the official home for all Monitor sanctuary relics.
``The real work begins after we bring up the artifacts,'' Broadwater said. ``The process of preparing them for the atmosphere above the surface and returning them to their original features could take as much as three years. This kind of work takes patience, but we've had great success with other metal objects like the anchor, navigation lantern and brass oarlocks, to name a few. After all, you have to consider how long they've been there and where the Monitor finally came to rest.''
Launched on Jan. 30, 1862, from Greenpoint, Long Island, the ``Cheesebox-on-a-Raft,'' as it was popularly called by contemporary press because of its unique turret and slight draft, was the brainchild of Swedish-born inventor John Ericsson. Measuring 172 feet long and 41 feet wide, the ironclad weighed in at 776 tons, about half the size of her historic counterpart, the CSS Virginia, formerly the steam frigate USS Merrimack, which was converted into an ironclad by Confederates at Gosport and John L. Porter of Portsmouth.
Built in 100 days, Monitor arrived in Hampton Roads too late on the evening of March 8, 1862, to prevent the Virginia from destroying wooden-hull warships USS Cumberland and Congress.
Originally her orders were to sail to the Potomac River in defense of Washington, but now that the Virginia had drawn the first blood, the Monitor was fated to fight it out with the Virginia in the world's first battle between ironclads. After the battle ended in a draw, the Monitor was content to remain through the spring with a growing blockade fleet until enough Federal firepower could be assembled to land troops at what is today Ocean View and recapture Norfolk and Portsmouth.
Realizing that the Virginia was heavily outnumbered and encumbered with a draft too great to take her to Richmond, Confederates destroyed their ironclad at Craney Island.
Until the winter of 1862, Monitor's history is generally uneventful as she coordinated activities with the James River Fleet and their ponderous drive up the James to Richmond. While under tow from the steamer USS Rhode Island to Beaufort, N.C., for repairs, Monitor was caught in a midnight storm on Dec. 31, 1862, and went to the bottom off Cape Hatteras, carrying approximately 16 of her crew with her.
From that moment on, she rested quietly until April 1974 when she was positively discovered by a team of scientists led by Duke University's John G. Newton and Harold E. ``Doc'' Edgerton from the Massachusetts Institute of Technology. The confirmation of the wreck's identity opened a national debate about its ownership and future.
With the Navy having abandoned all claims to the wreck in 1953, and the state of North Carolina's submerged cultural resource law limited to a three-mile restriction, the Monitor was an ``orphaned'' wreck site until NOAA created the nation's first National Marine Sanctuary on Jan. 30, 1975, the 113th anniversary of the ironclad's launch. The sanctuary consists of a vertical column of water one mile in diameter located on the eastern Continental Shelf 16.1 miles southeast of Cape Hatteras.
Broadwater first dove on the site in 1979. Over a dozen expeditions later, he still describes going to work in some of the most precarious waters of the world with confidence and respect. ``I've descended to the wreck when the sunlight penetrated clearly 60 feet down and filmed it when it was amazingly clear from stem to stern,'' he said.
``Just recently on a dive, our divers had no chance to even stay in the dive platform with the current so rough and on the surface we had 12-foot waves were slapping all around. As important and critical as our job is, you have to be mindful of why the Monitor is there in the first place. In this area, weather is very critical to the success or failure of a mission. Everytime I dive here I get a little, eerie feeling, something like you are not alone here. And each time I visit the wreck, I see how much deterioration has taken place since the previous year. If we don't act with some concerted speed, our chances of bringing objects up like the propeller in one piece are slim,'' he added.
Since the last expeditions in August and September, there is discussion about another dive next month before the weather gets too cold. There is no doubt that Broadwater and his team are enthusiastic about another chance. Broadwater admits that a lot is in the balance.
``When we get the propeller up, I would like to see a plan to survey the engine and boilers for an attempt at raising them,'' he said.
There is also the lingering question about the future of the most recognized feature of the Monitor, Ericsson's 20-foot diameter, 9-foot tall turret. Located originally at midships, its eight inches of iron plating gave it an original weight of 120 tons. There is strong speculation that it still houses Monitor's two XI-inch Dahlgren guns as well. But are these artifacts too much for the NOAA expedition?
``The Edenton has more than enough lift capability for the job,'' Broadwater said. ``I don't think it is a question of technology or even technique any longer. We simply don't have that much time before other areas of the vessel begin to crumble. Right now they are completely intact, considering the location. But no one can guarantee next year, and for that matter, off Hatteras, not even a month from now.''
For now, the propeller and shaft and the other retrievable relics of the Monitor remain in the strong clutches of the Graveyard of the Atlantic. Men like Ericsson are to be honored for building these ships, and the Monitor is indeed a national treasure, but now that nature claims her, it will take just as much determination, courage and genius to bring her back. ILLUSTRATION: Photo courtesy of the U.S. NAVAL HISTORICAL CENTER
The Monitor, right, does battle with the Merrimack in a print from
an painting by O.O. Davidson.
AP photos
AT LEFT: Navy diver Chris Kellar adjusts his diving suit collar on
board the Edenton as he prepares to dive 230 feet to try to recover
the propeller of the ironclad Monitor on Aug. 30.
ABOVE: A diver tender scrubs Navy diver Ryan Marino's helmet with
soap to check for gas leaks. The mission was aborted by bad weather
and technical difficulties.
by CNB