This is HMS Ocelot was the last warship to be made at Chatham and it was launched from No. 7 slip on 5 May 1962, being commissioned into the Royal Navy on 31 January 1964. Chatham had been making submarines since 1908 and had constructed 57 of them over the years, but this was very much the end of an era.
The museum offers free guided tours of the submarine, but they have to be booked and this was the one that was recommended to me in the limited time that I had at the museum. I got there for the tour and noticed that we all had to fit through a circle of this size. I had to have quite a think about that as although I’m an athlete, it did look rather small.
The tour was led by Nat and she was cheerful and personable in the morning. Her task was to guide visitors through the submarine without getting stuck or annoyed, whilst trying to give some history about the whole arrangement.
Ocelot was about 295 feet long overall and had diesel generators and electric motors. This set-up meant that it could travel more quietly submerged than many earlier boats, which was handy during the Cold War when surveillance and intelligence work were important.
The first thing was to get on board the thing and that wasn’t using those steps, but they looked quite similar. I remember in Baltimore, United States, when I went on a guided tour of something similar that I commented on my bravery to the guide. A former member of the US navy giving the tour said that I gave the impression of someone from the Canadian navy, but I ignored that. Anyway, I digress.
After I had nimbly climbed down the steps, the first thing that was visible were the torpedo tubes. There were six at the bow, with another two at the other end, three arranged on each side. The submarine carried 24 of the Mark 8 torpedoes, the rest were handily arranged on the wall in what was already a confined space.
Inside the torpedo tube and the whole process was carefully controlled so the crew could load the weapon from inside the submarine, shut the inner door, flood the tube, open the outer door and fire. After firing, the outer door would be closed, the tube drained and the cycle could begin again. It was a highly disciplined little arrangement because the admiral, or whatever they’re called on a submarine, would likely be annoyed if their submarine had water flooding in.
This little number must have been handy to read in the necessity of getting off the submarine quickly. I’m sure the training for this must have been extensive, if the submarine couldn’t surface then a controlled pressure chamber was the only route off. There seem to be some spelling mistakes on this which would fill me with confidence if I was standing there waiting to be evacuated. But, this is why I’m not in the Royal Navy as I suspect I would focus on matters that weren’t entirely important.
The sleeping area and that must have been dead handy when someone decided that they wanted to play board games. It’s not what I would call spacious, but I doubt many people become submariners if they like having their own space.
The entertainment area for those on board. The submarine was taken out of Royal Navy service in August 1991 and was returned to Chatham in 1992 to be used at the museum.
More of the sleeping areas.
These are the steps up that were visible in my earlier photo. They look a bit steep to me, but I’m scared of heights (and quite a lot of other things).
Sleeping quarters for more decadent members of the crew.
There really wasn’t much space along here. I didn’t take a photo of it, as I was quite focused on not getting stuck, but getting through the hatches wasn’t entirely easy. I’m not saying it was like an obstacle course, but it required grabbing the bar above the hatch and then swinging through into the next stage. Fortunately the woman behind me was about as athletic as my friend Richard, so I didn’t have anyone rushing me as she was having her own dramas.
Anyway, more to follow in this riveting series of posts about a submarine…..