CHAPTER 19 -- THE REFIT BASIN
Chapter 19: THE REFIT BASIN
Just a quick observation. In the picture above, two men from a small boat are standing on a “ledge” built into Arizona’s side. That “ledge” is the top edge of the 13.5 inch thick armor belt designed to protect against short range fire as well as plunging “near misses” that might actually strike below the waterline. The “armor belt” is clearly visible for most of its’ length.
The term “refit” is both vague, and all inclusive. It covers a whole range of actions, but might be, more properly, understood to mean “refit, repair, and modernize”.
REFIT
Every battleship periodically went in for a “refit” – but historians are often vague about the details – so “refit” could mean almost anything. But ship’s service records (similar to a “Regimental History”) mention frequent “refits” – usually twice a year – sometimes more often with hard use. It was a lot like taking your car to the mechanic for a check-up. Bearings were removed, cleaned, inspected, greased, and reinstalled. Lubricating systems would be drained and refilled. Coolant systems drained, flushed, and refilled. Hydraulic system seals inspected and replaced. The boiler fires were pulled and fireboxes cleaned. Boiler water tubes were inspected and replaced as needed. Moving parts, like crankshafts and pistons were greased and inspected, and turbines inspected for fractured blades. These were mostly things that could not be done while on active service, but not so major as to require dry docking.
USS MARYLAND REFIT AT BREMERTON NAVY YARD, PUGET SOUND CIRCA 1936
REPAIR
Anyone owning an automobile knows there are a hundred things that can go “wanky” in your car – burned out lights, leaky seals, engine wear, and transmission slippage – to name but a few. A battleship was a unified, interconnected, mass of moving parts – more than any other mechanical object on Earth. Gigantic engines, several stories tall, moved upwards of 40,000 tons dead-weight through mountainous seas for days on end and thousands of miles of continuous steaming. Breakage and wear, with the occasional “failure”, was inevitable. Atlantic gales could pound decks with the force of a steam hammer, while Pacific Typhoons could rip railing stanchions out of the deck and tear inch-thick metal bridge screens into twisted shreds. And then, there was always the occasional “fender-bender” with another ship. So regardless of the circumstances – repair was a foregone conclusion.
USS MARYLAND REPAIR AT BREMERTON NAVY YARD 1942. ARMOR PIERCING BOMB DAMAGE FROM PEARL HARBOR ATTACK.
MODERNIZATION
This requires a bit of explaining. The birth of the modern dreadnought battleship in 1905 fired the “starter gun” for the largest and most costly naval arms race in history. Nations suddenly found themselves burdened with fleets of pre-dreadnought battleships – now obsolete and unable to stand in the line of battle. Outgunned and outclassed, their warships would have been swept from the seas. The result was a mad rush to build new fleets of modern dreadnoughts to protect sea lanes and maintain prestige-standing as a “great power”.
The lamps burned late into the night at every Admiralty design office in the world. Wherever a new keel was laid, foreign naval attaches and spies flocked to gather intelligence. When the intelligence was received back home, their design bureau began planning a new dreadnought – bigger and better than the competition.
USS OKLAHOMA REFIT AT BREMERTON NAVY YARD, PUGET SOUND, FEBRUARY 1941.
Great Britain, as the leader, had to build “more and faster” to guarantee an advantage over the next two biggest navies combined. That was the “Fleet Standard” in those days. A numerical advantage over the combined fleets of Russia and France ensured that Britannia would rule the waves. Even before HMS Dreadnought was accepted from the builder’s yard, the three-ship Bellerophon Class was laid down in 1906, the three-ship St. Vincent Class in 1907, and the two-ship Neptune Class in 1908. The only other naval power capable of such massive building was the United States. But though they kept a watchful eye on their “cousins in the colonies”, the British saw no serious threat from that quarter. And Britain, in effect, had four powerful dreadnoughts in service before any nation launched a single challenger. Imperial Germany would eventually take up that challenge.
The “numbers game” was all well and good, but like any “drug”, it was addictive and had side-effects that resonated throughout every navy possessing dreadnoughts.
(1) If your enemy built a dreadnought, you had to build one bigger and better.
(2) Science, technology, and engineering got into the act. Each succeeding class would have more guns, bigger guns – more speed, bigger engines – more armor, thicker armor, a better armoring scheme – better fire control systems – etc, etc.
(3) There was always the price tag to be considered. The last British pre-dreadnoughts had cost 1.4 million pounds per ship. HMS Dreadnought cost 1.7 million. With each class designed to be bigger and better, it was inevitable. The last WW I era dreadnought battlecruiser (Hood) cost just over 6 million pounds! So “bigger and better” sounded “Jolly Good” – until the bill arrived in the mail!
Some side effects were more obvious than others – though the cost was a bitter pill, indeed. But one hidden drawback was “designed obsolescence”. As each new class of dreadnought improved on the last one – it made the preceding battleships less and less modern. HMS Dreadnought was launched in 1905. By the outbreak of war in 1914, she was considered “second class” and unfit to lay in the line of battle. Advancements in size, science, and improving technology had ended her useful life. And so it was in ALL navies – though worse in some. The shipbuilding industries in France, Italy, and Russia were so slow that ships were often obsolete before launching.
USS ARIZONA REFIT AT BREMERTON NAVY YARD, PUGET SOUND, EARLY 1941.
The heightened political tensions in the second decade of the 20th Century provided ample excuse to continue building expensive new battleships that rendered older ones obsolete. And when war finally erupted – armaments industries went into high gear – especially heavy artillery and shipyards. By November, 1918, Germany had collapsed and the Allied Powers found themselves victorious – but bankrupt. The entire geopolitical map of Europe had been altered forever, monarchies had been swept away, and the world economy was in a shambles. Germany was desolate, large swaths of France were laid waste, and Britain could hardly find tuppence to rub together. The phenomenally expensive cost of modern industrialized warfare had driven even the victors to the brink of collapse.
The Washington Naval Arms Limitation Treaty of 1922 saved the world from a new and exorbitantly expensive naval arms race that seemed to be shaping up between the victorious nations. The treaty, basically, limited certain nations to a given “tonnage allowance” in warship categories – battleships, cruisers, etc, etc. This, in effect, provided a solution to the problem of what to do with older, high-maintenance warships. Only the best, biggest, and most modern could be kept within the tonnage limitations. Old pre-dreadnoughts and “second class” dreadnoughts were done away with – scrapped or expended as gunnery targets or subjects for weapons testing. The treaty also included a ten-year capital ship “holiday” – current construction to stop immediately and no new battleships or battlecruisers until 1932. This neatly eliminated the political problems of trying to spend scarce taxpayer money on “big-ticket” battleships. Without new construction – fleets with aging battleships had to find some inexpensive way to remain competitive – thus was born the concept of “modernization”.
USS NEVADA UNDERGOING MODERNIZATION AT NORFOLK NAVY YARD, 1927.
The idea was simple – at least in concept. A good example is the 1927 modernization of USS Nevada. All of eleven years old at the time, Nevada was taken into the graving dock at Norfolk Navy Yard and the work preformed between August, 1927, and January, 1930. The reason for the long delay was two fold; (1) The US Congress was miserly and refused to fund the entire cost in a single fiscal year, and (2) The Navy didn’t complain because it allowed them to keep the dockyard labor force on the payroll. It was critically important to maintain a labor force experienced enough to construct and repair the complicated and technically demanding battleships.
But the work, itself, was of some interest. The old “lattice cage” masts were cut down and replaced by tripod masts with huge multi-level fighting tops for modern spotting and fire control systems. Her direct-drive steam turbines were lifted out and replaced with a new set of geared turbines from canceled construction. These would use less fuel and provide a greater operating radius. Her main battery turrets were modified to allow 30 degree elevation – extending her gun range from 23,000 yards to 34,000 yards – much more compatible with modern fire control capabilities. Anti-torpedo bulges (blisters) were added to the hull to provide better protection against ever-improving models of torpedoes. To make room for the “bulges”, Nevada’s original twelve Yarrow boilers were replaced with smaller and far more efficient “BE” models. Catapults were added for two spotter aircraft along with eight new 5 inch anti-aircraft guns. The old, cramped, bridge was replaced with a stronger and more spacious structure accommodating the new fire control devices. And, in a momentary fit of brilliance, it was decided to relocate her 5 inch secondary batteries from their hull casemates to the main deck. Unlike most “refits”, this job was done in a dry dock rather than a “refit basin”, largely because the “torpedo bulges” radically altered the hull.
The remaining US Navy battleships all underwent much the same “modernization”, though each class differed somewhat. The New York Class is a case in point. In 1926, both she and her sister Texas, had their fourteen coal-fired boilers ripped out and were converted to modern oil-burners – in addition to the other changes. So under treaty limitations and the financial constraints of the “Great Depression”, navies the world over hung onto their aging dreadnoughts and made do with technological “upgrades”. A thorough modernization often added a decade or more to their useful life.
USS ARIZONA TAKING ON STORES AFTER COMPLETING MODERNIZATION.
Pictured above is an area overview of the Refit basin (center). In the upper right corner, you can just see the end of the “Fitting-Out Basin” with the barge wharf. Below that is the administration offices responsible for managing the industry and facilities sprawling over “the Mainland” area – mostly the “Fitting-Out Basin”, “Refit” Basin, and the large “Dry Dock” complex. Due west of that is the central warehousing facility for the base. And in the bottom left, you can see a portion of the dry docks.
You might well ask why there are two basins as well as a large dry dock complex. Almost all the work done by the two basins could be done in the dry docks, while basins were unable to do work below the waterline. But it is simply a matter of volume. The two largest Imperial naval bases, Wilhelmshaven and Kiel, were equipped in this manner because they possessed the only “government” shipyards – Kaiserliche Werft Kiel and Kaiserliche Werft Wilhelmshaven. While private builders might construct battleships, not all of them were equipped to do the fitting-out work. (The cost of an essential 250 ton cantilever crane was outrageous!) Others might not have the expertise to install engines or main gun systems – so the alternative was to move the hulls to a government yard for completion. At the same time, Wilhelmshaven often had more than one dreadnought on the slipways. Launching and fitting-out schedules had to be arranged carefully to avoid overlap. (I would love to have included shipyards in my harbor, but no one has yet created a realistic, game-scale lot – or “prop” warships to go in it.)
This is a closer view of the basin. On the docks, you can see various supply and repair parts, as well as stacked containers filled with a variety of parts common to warships. The smaller cranes are used to hoist the stores aboard. Trains are brought directly behind the docks to facilitate unloading, while farther back are assorted machine shops, forges, casting plants, and assembly shops. The industrial buildings are Maxis, with most of the warehouses and the big crane from Nob’s “1905 Series”. Some “filler lots” (barrels, tanks, storage containers) are from various @T Wrecksseries. Concrete surfaces are either NBVC “Container Port” or “Paeng Grunge”. Virtually everything was re-lotted and “dressed out” with a multitude of different things from the “prop box” (what you find in EDITOR). The “docking control towers” on either side of the entrance were borrowed from a Maxis airfield.
384_REFIT BASIN OVERVIEW NIGHT
Here is a detail shot of activity around the shops and train. A smaller “Bipin” crane is unloading steel girders and cases of mechanical equipment, while courtesy of @APwe have sailors preparing propellers for shipment to the dry docks, and at the far end of the dock, a naval detachment has arrived to assist in loading anchors onto the same train. Note the impression of “controlled chaos”. Gainfully employed dockyard quays were literal hives of activity – ten or fifteen different jobs aboard ship being simultaneously supplied from the dockside stores – a hundred or more workers milling about – steam whistles screeching, and smoke and steam belching from the locomotives. And only five more hours before quitting time and a pint at the pub!
This is a detail shot of the Forging and Casting shop. Sometimes during a refit, older warships would have to replace highly specialized broken parts. Due to their age, it was often necessary to resort to old methods – casting the part from molten metal, forging it, then machining the part to the proper fit. This is the Maxis “Graber Smelting” lot – chosen because it suited the task and because it is actually quite a fine model. The detail, weathering, and authenticity is excellent work and the night-lighting is some of the best in the old “vanilla” game.
The warehouse on the left is Maxis, while the older ones on the right are from “Nob”. Again, these were re-lotted and dressed-out with props, while the surrounding areas were filled in with a variety of custom 1x1 lots. Across the road is the office of the Refit Basin Controller. He sees to the daily operation of the basin and labor force.
Here you can get a better look at the detail on “Nob’s” dockyard crane. It’s remarkably accurate and was, doubtless, taken from either a surviving example, or old pictures of Japanese dockyards. It could have been made just a bit taller, with a longer “jibe”, but is very authentic, nonetheless. Here, it is depicted as an aging, but still valuable, cantilever crane of 150 ton capacity. Refit basins were not equipped with the larger 350 ton cranes because they were not expected to handle extremely “heavy lifts”. If there was a heavy lift to be made, the ship would be moved to the Fitting-Out Basin where the large crane was installed. It was, simply put, financially prohibitive for a dockyard to invest the huge sums of money to buy more than one large cantilever crane. Some shipyards could not afford even one such crane. Just along dockside, you can also see two very nice 100-ton steam cranes by @AP. This picture also has another angle on the equally authentic “Graber Smelting” building. I did enhance the smoke effect just a tad.
Two Viribus Unitis Class dreadnoughts have been moved into the basin to receive a complete upgrade of their fire control systems. A compartment in the hull, below the armor deck, will be converted to hold the “plotting room”, complete with electrical and communication leads, plotting boards, and mechanical computing devices. The 150 ton cantilever crane will be used to install two improved 25-foot stereoscopic “main system” range finders in heavily armored cupolas fore and aft, while the 100-ton steam cranes will install improved 20-foot, armored, optical range finders to the rear of “B’ and “X” turrets for use in “local control”. Once the hardware is installed, electrical and communication leads will have to be run from the range finders to the plotting room, and thence to the main battery turrets. When finished, the battleships will proceed to the gunnery range for a test shoot.
The Austro-Hungarian Navy, in the end, would have a brief career beginning with their victory at the Battle of Lissa, in 1866, and ending with the collapse of the Monarchy, in 1918. But their officers were well educated and no less courageous than their counterparts, and their service was known to be small but efficient. The launch of HMS Dreadnought led to increased naval tension around the world, and the Austro-Hungarians eyed renewed Italian naval construction with some unease. Suspecting the Italians might ally with Britain in the event of war, the Austrians embarked on a naval expansion of their own – the four ships of the Viribus Units Class.
At 469 feet in length, they were small battleships – but handsome in appearance and well-proportioned. The small size reflected the need for cash-economy, while their strategic mission of controlling the Adriatic Sea against Italy did not call for especially large dreadnoughts. The short hull form precluded any attempt at high speed, as there was simply no room for the required boilers. But 20 knots was deemed acceptable when laid down in 1910.
A cursory examination shows the decks relatively clear, with a minimum of topside clutter concentrated between the main battery guns. The armored conning tower behind the fore turrets has a small and “spartan” bridge structure, with searchlights grouped atop the bridge, between the funnels, and around the main mast. The twin funnels, closely spaced, give the ships a graceful silhouette and all the boats are grouped forward of the aft control structure. But one item of interest can be seen. If you look closely along the deck edge amidships, you will see a cylindrical object with a “round piece with arms” perched on top. That is an armored cupola housing a 9-foot Barr & Stroud optical range finder / gun director for the six 5.9 inch secondary guns arranged in casemates below, on the battery deck. This feature is unusually sighted and might be unique among all the dreadnoughts.
Their most impressive feature was their main battery guns. The excellent 12 inch, 45 caliber, Skoda K-10 model fired at a rate of 2.5 rounds per minute and was well noted for its’ accuracy. Two superfiring pairs of triple turrets were grouped fore and aft – allowing for a twelve-gun broadside. When launched, the first of the class, SMS Tegetthoff, became the first ship in the world to carry triple gun turrets. Smooth working, compact, and well-designed, the entire installation – gun houses, gun tubes, handling hoists, and turret machinery – were designed and built by Skoda Werk, Pilsen, Bohemia. At the time, Skoda was second only to Krupp Werk, Essen in the quality of their product. But considering the marvel of engineering that was their triple turret – the point is, indeed, arguable. (The German Army even bought 12 inch Skoda howitzers to “bust” the Belgian border forts.) Skoda’s triple turret, beyond being forward-thinking and technologically advanced, allowed the Viribus Unitis Class to pack the punch of a full battleship on a much smaller hull. The British and German navies routinely mounted twelve main battery guns in twin turrets, and in the case of HMS Agincourt they mounted fourteen. But this was only achieved at great cost by building a much longer hull, which in turn, required more armor protection and more powerful engines.
Sadly, the Austrian naval architects underestimated the threat of torpedoes and mines. The underwater protection was not properly designed and did not leave sufficient space to absorb explosions, nor were the torpedo bulkheads of sufficient strength to withstand the blast. Szent Istvan was torpedoed by an Italian M.A.S. Boat and sank off Permuda in 1918. Viribus Unitis was surrendered to the new Yugoslav Government when the Empire dissolved – and sunk nine days later from an explosive device placed by Italian “Special Ops” swimmers. Tegetthoff was ceded to Italy in the surrender and broken up at La Spezia in 1924-1925. Prinz Eugen was ceded to France in 1920 as reparations and sunk by gunfire off Toulon in 1922. A sorry end to some truly fine warships.
MY THANKS to @Barroco Hispano for generously sharing his time and skills to provide these beautiful warships.
AND – MY THANKS and gratitude to @AP for his generosity, kind patience, and willingness to share his skills in creating some of the finest cranes I have ever seen and some truly unique vignettes with his props and people. My “CJ” is now much more “demonstrative", and so much more fun with his creations to work with. You will see even more of his creative genius in the coming sequel..."IMPERIAL DOCKYARDS: CUXHAVEN".
If you enjoyed anything you saw – please punch the “like” button so I will know. A comment would be even more informative.
Comments and critiques requested and gratefully accepted. All questions answered promptly to the best of my ability.
THANK YOU for your visit !
NEXT ENTRY…...The Dry Docks, Part 01.
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