-
Announcement
-
Simtropolis Returns! 05/26/2026
See here for details about our site recovery efforts.
-
Search the Community
Showing results for tags 'naval'.
Found 15 results
-
Version 1.0.0
451 Downloads
History: Wikipedia Specs: The file contains an 1x7 lot (MMP friendly). It also includes a lot that includes the ship wake. It should be placed next to the ship. Lot editor: AGC_Destroyers_USS_Fletcher_1942_V100_V01_90 AGC_Destroyers_USS_Fletcher_1942_W_V100_V01_90 Ubication: Water transportation Icon: Wake icon: Includes Maxisnite and Darknite (Choose just one). Dependencies: No Scale of the models: 100% on all axes (Real World Scale). If you like my work, you can make a donation to fund my other projects! https://www.paypal.com/donate/?hosted_button_id=WF9FDNHXCHDVU Thanks to the few people who have donated to me. -
CHAPTER 20 -- THE DRY DOCKS 01
Dreadnought posted a City Journal entry in IMPERIAL DOCKYARDS WILHELMSHAVEN
Chapter 20: THE DRY DOCKS 01 The picture above shows USS Mississippi in Dry Dock #4 at Bremerton Navy Yard in Puget Sound, circa 1940. This is a text book example of a dry dock, but could, more properly, be called a “graving dock” – more of that later. Dry docks are hardly a modern invention. In the reign of Pharaoh Ptolemy IV Philopator (221-204 BC) the enormous “Tessarakonteres” rowing vessels were said to have been built in a basin remarkably like a dry dock. A pit beside the Nile with stone props and cross beams provided the building platform, while a temporary channel from the river flooded the pit so the finished boat could be floated out. The Romans had their own version of a stone channel connected to a nearby river at Narni (modern Stifone in Umbria). And the 11th Century Song Dynasty is said to have used a system similar to the Egyptians. But “dry docks” remained crude affairs until 1495, when England’s Henry VII commissioned the first modern stone dry dock at Portsmouth. At 526 years of age, it is the oldest surviving example still in use. It hosts the Monitor HMS M-33 – a WW I survivor. With the arrival of the Industrial Revolution, the dry dock came into its’ own. Wooden lock gates were replaced with hollow steel doors or massive caissons opening and closing laterally on roller paths. Steam engines were introduced to operate the gates and winches, and huge pumps that could drain a dock in a matter of hours rather than days. No longer did ships rest in dug-out “ponds”, but in durable cut stone or concrete basins. While today’s dry docks have been improved by electrification, computerization, and even robotics – the basic concept remains unchanged. USS California dry docked at Bremerton Naval Yard for permanent repairs and reconstruction after the Pearl Harbor attack. IMPERIAL DRY DOCKS The Imperial Dry Docks in Wilhelmshaven are located on the southernmost piece of what was then dry land on “The Mainland”. The docks and their attendant industry occupy a swath extending across the entire width of the peninsula along the lower portion of the main channel. They are “sandwiched” between the “Refit Basin” on the north, and the reclaimed land of the “Double Quay” area to the southwest. The two basins on the right are called “The New Docks”. They were constructed as the fleet grew in size and numbers and the Imperial shipyards expanded to cope with the naval arms race. The smaller dry dock on the left is, of course, “The Old Dock”. Each dry dock basin has a dockside crane line and working area on either side to provide complete access to all parts of the ship under repair. A rail line behind the dockside provides direct supply and transport for parts, raw materials, and large components or machinery. And beyond the rail line is a complete array of warehouses, machine shops, timber stores, and foundries, forges, and casting works. The two metal buildings pictured are Maxis – Grundstrom Copper and Kiwi Flooring. Grundstrom, in particular, has some very good night-lighting. The rest of the warehouses are by “NOB” from his “1905 Naval Series”. The paved areas are from NBVC’s Container Port collection, and the rest of the 6x17 lot was dressed out with a wide assortment of props from the “prop box”. The train is delivering a load of steel plating, some generators to be installed aboard ship, and an assortment of pipes. Tons and tons of material have been assembled in preparation for the coming work and dozens of workmen can be seen going about their duties. Pictured in the “East Dock” is HMS Rodney – one of four Admiral Class battlecruisers under construction when “Peace” suddenly broke out in 1918. In reality, the Admiral Class was to have consisted of Hood, Rodney, Anson, and Howe – but the cessation of hostilities removed the urgent need for more capital ships, and the horrible state of British finances dictated that work be stopped immediately. Each of the huge battlecruisers was expected to cost in excess of 6 million pounds – far more than any warships that had ever been built in Britain! With imminent bankruptcy staring England in the face, every spending cut that could be made would help keep the “wolf” away from the door. After much political “dithering”, and with great reluctance on the part of the Admiralty, it was decided that HMS Hood would be finished, and the other three ships canceled. The two cranes dockside are from the “PEG SNM Series” and, as it turns out, they are remarkably similar to a 250 ton capacity model that began to appear in US Navy dockyards around 1943. With the coming of WW II, the US Navy was confronted with the realization that their dockyard infrastructure was either non-existent, or hopelessly out of date. The preceding decade had followed close on the heels of the Wall Street “Crash of 1929”, and “The Great Depression” had quickly descend upon the United States and the world, in general. Throughout the 1930’s there was precious little money voted for Naval Expenditures, and almost all of that had gone toward maintaining the battlefleet. Consequently, when Pearl Harbor was attacked, innumerable contracts flooded out of the Navy Department – not just to build more ships, but to expand and modernize the vitally necessary dockyards and equip them to handle the vast armada that would become the US Navy. These cranes were a small, but crucial, part of that gargantuan effort. This is the large pumping station at the head of the dock. This unit is capable of draining or filling the dock in just a matter of a few hours. The water is pumped in from a series of intakes along the harbor seawall and enters the dock through carefully placed discharge tunnels that are designed to flood the dock evenly and produce no measurable currents. The valves are simply reversed to empty the dock. This pumping station handles the needs of all three dry docks. The station is built from various props centered around the large Maxis water pumps. GRAVING DOCKS Dry Docks come in all sorts of shapes, sizes, and strange configurations. For example; the Howard Hughes research vessel, Glomar Explorer, contained a “dry dock”. The bottom of the hull was open, allowing a massive “grapnel claw” to descend and close around the sunken remains of K-129, a “Cold War” era Soviet diesel-electric submarine. The idea was to hoist the wreck into a large bay for examination – the “dry dock”. A bit “exotic” – but another example of a “dry dock”. When most people think of a dry dock, what usually comes to mind is shown in the picture of the USS Mississippi – and that is called a “Graving Dock”. In preparation for use, a “docking plan” is drawn up showing where the “keel blocks” and supporting “bilge blocks” are to be placed underneath the structural “ribs” of a given ship. Unsupported, the ship’s great weight would bend hull plates, stress riveted seams, and even warp the alignment of rudders and propeller shafts. With support blocks fixed to the floor, the dock is flooded and the gates opened to admit a ship. Above, you see a view of HMS Rodney’s forward main battery turrets. Had they all been completed, the Admiral Class battlecruisers would have carried eight 15 inch/42 caliber guns arranged in four superfiring twin turrets, two forward and two aft. Her guns were capable of firing a 1,920 pound shell out to 30,000 yards. At the rear of each of the distinctive looking turrets, there is a 30-foot optical rangefinder mounted for use when in “local control”. Just abaft “B” turret is the heavily armored conning tower, usually used only in battle. On its’ roof, you see yet a third 30-foot rangefinder, this one connected to the ship’s gunnery control system. At the very top edge of the picture, you can just make out a 9-foot rangefinder mounted on the roof of the masthead “fighting top” (also connected to the gunnery control). Below is a view of the stern main battery turrets, also with “local control” rangefinders. If the main gunnery control system was damaged in battle, or malfunctioned, the “Turret Captains” could switch to “local control” and continue the shoot using the optical device to range. With a “stereoscopic rangefinder”, the rule of thumb was – the wider the device, the more accurate the range estimate. Of the Admiral Class battlecruisers, HMS Hood was the only one to be completed, in May, 1920. At nearly 47,000 tons, she was the heaviest warship afloat, the longest, and with a speed of 32 knots, she was the fastest. And she held those records for twenty years. This view shows her boat deck and the approximate location where one or more shells fired by the KMS Bismarck struck her in May, 1941. The investigating board determined that at least one shell struck a magazine, breaking her in half, and she went down in three minutes with only three survivors. There is some irony in the fact that she was named after Admiral Sir Horace Hood who died at the Battle of Jutland when the battlecruiser HMS Invincible was struck in a magazine, exploded, and went down with all hands. USS UTAH BEING MANEUVERED INTO DRY DOCK #4 AT NEW YORK NAVY YARD DURING HER FINAL “FITTING-OUT” WORK, CIRCA 1912. Maneuvering a battleship into the confined space of a graving dock was difficult and time consuming – requiring a high degree of expertise from the Captain, the gentle prodding of a pair of tugs, and winches hauling on “guide” lines run from either side of the bow. When the warship was deemed to be properly positioned, hawsers were made fast to the docking bollards, the gates closed, and massive pumps began lowering the basin water level. While there was still enough water to shift the battleship around, divers went down to check the positioning of the blocks. If all was well, the divers were removed, the pumps restarted, and the remainder of the water removed – leaving the ship high and dry on the blocks. USS NEW MEXICO IN THE GENERAL ELECTRIC COMPANY DOCK FOR FINAL INSTALLATION OF ELECTRIC MOTORS FOR HER TURBO-ELECTRIC DRIVE, 1918. Note the “keel blocks” beneath her stem and the fine sweep of her “clipper” bow. For those of you unfamiliar with the term “turbo-electric drive” – it is, simply put, an alternative form of propulsion for ships. Triple expansion steam engines had long been the standard, but the machinery was large and quite heavy – and there were limits to the power that could be generated. In 1884, Charles Parsons invented the steam turbine, and quick to realize the possibilities, he established the Parsons Marine Steam Turbine Company. By 1905, Parsons was able to sell his first set of turbines to the Royal Navy – another “first” for HMS Dreadnought. In the beginning, all steam turbines were “direct drive” – but there were problems. The steam turbine develops maximum power at high speed. But the power must be transferred to a propeller which operates most efficiently at lower speeds. If a propeller rotates too fast, it produces a “blizzard” of air bubbles – but no forward thrust. The fancy name is “cavitation”. The solution was the introduction of “geared turbine drive”. A set of heavy duty, precision machined, gears was installed to reduce the high speed power of the turbine to the low speed operation of the propeller. This also required a solidly built clutch system to allow for reverse speeds, and additional hull length to accommodate the gearing – adding more and more weight to the ship. While geared turbines proved effective and reliable, the Americans were not satisfied with the complicated, heavy, and over-long arrangement. They took an experimental idea from the General Electric Corporation, Marine Division, and “scaled it up”. Having first tested the novel propulsion system in the aircraft carrier Langley, it was then installed on a trial basis in New Mexico – making her the first “turbo-electric drive” battleship. With this arrangement, nine Babcock-Wilcox boilers provided steam to four General Electric steam turbines, driving four alternators that fed current to four electric motors coupled directly to four shafts. The numerous advantages included shorter propeller shafts, allowing for better subdivision inboard of the propellers and rudder – alternators and motors that could be cross-connected to provide redundancy in the event of failure or battle damage – the ship’s speed could be varied by switching on or off a given number of motor poles – and high speed reverse was nearly instantly available by a simple switch. The long, heavy, complicated, and expensive gear and clutch systems were eliminated, reducing both machinery weight and engine room space – and with shorter propeller shafts, the engines could be placed closer to the stern, reducing the overall hull length (read considerable cost reduction). A total of five classes of US battleships would be equipped with “turbo-electric drive”, and though they proved reliable, the experiment wasn’t exactly “the magic bullet”. High voltages were difficult to handle and there was a 40% decrease in the power-to-weight ratio – sufficient for 21 knots – but no more. Within a decade of launch, all the ships had undergone a “Refit”, and geared turbines were installed. HMS IRON DUKE IN A GRAVING DOCK, POSSIBLY 1919. Graving Docks can accommodate a wide variety of tasks – and are absolutely essential to some. Contrary to the appearance of their massive, lumbering, bulk – a floating battleship can be quite delicate. If a warship is too heavily loaded (stores, ammunition, fuel – and in some cases, too much armor plate), it will ride deeper than it’s designed waterline depth. It could, conceivably, founder in heavy seas. On the other hand, when moored at a dock for repairs, fuel is often removed, ammunition may be removed, and heavy components as well. That could include items of considerable weight – portions of the armor belt, heavy steel deck plates to gain access to compartments below, gun turrets, engines, turbines, generators, etc, etc. As weight is removed from the ship, it begins to rise and rides higher than the designed waterline depth. With all that weight removed from the hull, the ship’s center of gravity shifts, the topside becomes heavier – and the result is an expensive, capsized battleship, sunk at the dock. Obviously, parking the ship on blocks in a Graving Dock was a much better option. Plus – you could work on anything and everything while she was in that condition. The Royal Navy had a long tradition of “polishing brass” and keeping the “paintwork smart”, and painting a battleship was regular work – until you got to the waterline. A Graving Dock was the only possible answer. Another problem was the persistent nature of marine growth. In warm salt water, a ship’s hull accumulates an ever-thickening layer of barnacles, muscles, rust, and actual seaweed – “fouling the bottom” and creating “hydrodynamic friction drag”. A prolonged period at sea could reduce a 21 knot battleship to 18 knots, while lengthening travel time and increasing fuel consumption. The solution was to dry-dock the ship at least twice a year, literally scrape the growth off the hull, and apply a “resistant” coat of paint – a process referred to as “graving” (hence Graving Dock). Just for the record; though modern science and chemistry have been enlisted in the fight, “fouling” remains a problem. Much as I would like to have kept this chapter “short & sweet” – that has not been possible. Dry docks and the work carried on in them – though seemingly simple – can be quite complicated. And, as it turns out – just as complicated to explain. Since I am already more than a thousand words over my usual limit, I have decided to split the subject into two chapters – more to come. Of course, none of this would have been remotely possible without the excellent ships models provided by the skilled and generous @Barroco Hispano. THANK YOU -- THANK YOU...... 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 TIME…...The Dry Docks 02.- 8 Comments
-
- 14
-
-
-
- harbor
- battleships
- (and 6 more)
-
CHAPTER 18 -- THE FITTING-OUT BASIN
Dreadnought posted a City Journal entry in IMPERIAL DOCKYARDS WILHELMSHAVEN
Chapter 18: THE FITTING-OUT BASIN Above, you see a powerful Queen Elizabeth Class fast battleship, circa 1914. She is in a fairly advanced stage of construction in what is referred to as the “Fitting-Out Phase”. But that phrase covers a multitude of tasks as well as glossing over what was involved in getting her there. (Note 200-foot cantilever crane in background.) The shipwright’s trade dates to before recorded history, and in the beginning, ships were built by just about anyone handy at carpentry with some reasonably flat land at water’s edge. Hundreds of years later, shipbuilding had evolved into an industry. Sprawling yards jammed with sawmills, blacksmith’s shops, warehouses, sail lofts, rope walks, and large slipways holding the hulls of three-decked, wooden, ships-of-the-line. The process now required several phases of construction to build a warship – one of which – was “fitting-out”. But, as if things were not difficult enough, sails were replaced by steam engines, wooden warships were superseded by ironclads, ironclads gave way to all steel warships, pre-dreadnoughts evolved, and finally – HMS Dreadnought gave birth to the modern battleship. From that day -- until the end of the Dreadnought Era -- battleships would become the largest, most technically advanced, and mechanically complicated moving objects on Earth. In short – building dreadnoughts had become a specialized and challenging business! This is a wide overview of the “Fitting-Out Basin” facilities – located off the west end of the Turning Basin and the North Ship Channel. This made it possible to tow an unfinished warship through the ship channel and straight into the basin – no turns required and less opportunity for an accident. As in other European countries, the structure of the Imperial German naval armaments industry prior to 1914 was a mixed affair. The Krupp gun works at Essen provided all the artillery required by the German military – to include the massive rifles mounted on battleships. State Arsenals (factories) and Naval Dockyards provided for the construction of some dreadnoughts, while private yards were encouraged to take on government contracts. This practice expanded the shipbuilding base, and the labor force familiar with the complicated technology required -- a distinct advantage in a naval arms race. By the turn of the 20th Century, battleships had evolved to the degree that only eight shipyards in Germany were deemed capable of the task: Kaiserliche Werft, Wilhelmshaven – Kaiserliche Werft, Kiel – Germania Werft, Kiel – Howaldtswerke, Kiel – Blohm & Voss, Hamburg – Bremer Vulcan AG, Stettin – AG Weser, Bremen – and Schichau Yard, Danzig. The first step in building these giants was the “Design Study”, followed by an order from the Admiralstab (Navy High Command) to a building yard. When the necessary materials (timber, steel beams, armor plate) had been gathered and a slipway came open – construction began. From here on, the process varied widely based upon the capabilities of the building yard. Some components were fabricated on sight (the keel and hull frames), while others had to be shipped in from factories (large quantities of rolled steel plate). Special manufacturing tools were required to roll, taper, and bend the massive steel plates of the waterline armor belt – some of which could be done on site, but not all. And delays in delivering materials could add months to the building time. The fact that Imperial Germany might have three or four dreadnoughts under construction at the same time added further stress to the supply chain. In this view you see an Agincourt Class battleship and HMS Monarch of the Orion Class. Monarch belongs to one of the three battleship classes that formed the “backbone” of the Grand Fleet – a well-developed design – compact and “standardized”. Agincourt, by contrast, was a “one-off” design and somewhat larger. This illustrates the need to plan ahead when building dockyard facilities. Warships seemed to grow larger with each successive class – more speed means a longer ship to carry more boilers – more guns means a longer ship to accommodate one more gun turret, etc, etc. So it was wise to build basins bigger and wider to handle future warships. With the appearance of HMS Dreadnought, to their horror, the Admiralstab realized the Kiel Ship Canal would have to be widened to admit the new “dreadnoughts”! RUSSIAN BATTLESHIP POLTAVA fitting-out in Admiralty Yard, St. Petersburg, circa 1912. NOTE: Only temporary wooden structures built over barbette openings. The warship hull was usually built up to the level of the “surface” decks – forecastle, main, and quarter deck. For a wide variety of reasons the components actually installed inside the hull before launch conformed to no set pattern. The big underwater tubes were fitted in the torpedo flats and as the “main deck” was completed, the 6 inch secondary battery gun mounts were installed. Propellers and shafts might be fitted – provided there was deep water below the slipway. Engines would be installed only if the shipyard had the tools and expertise. But as a rule, few major interior components were installed prior to actual launch due to weight restrictions on the slipways. If a hull grew too heavy, rather than sliding down the slipway, it might actually get stuck. Tugs would have to be called in and getting the hull into the water might take weeks. More often than not, the hull interior was simply a series of decks, bulkheads, and subdivided compartments. Once launched, the empty hull would be towed to a “Fitting-Out Basin” – assuming the builder’s yard had one. The hull might well have to be towed to another shipyard. Afloat, and moored in the “Fitting-Out Basin”, the months-long construction process continued. Superstructure above the “basic” deck levels had to be built from scratch. The bridge, funnels, and deck houses had to be built with individual steel plates – each plate bent, punched, and shaped in presses ashore, then lifted into place. The concept of modular ship construction would not be invented until WW II. (See “Kaiser” Liberty Ships.) No two battleships were ever exactly alike. Each was, literally, “hand-made” from the blueprints and small adjustments were always made to get a proper fit. And steel plates were not easy to work with. Numerous small derricks were employed just shifting the heavy plates around and supporting them while they were riveted in place. In portions of the ship over the engine rooms, this process could not begin until powerful cranes lifted in the machinery. Engines the size of small houses were hoisted, swung across, and lowered into the bowels of the ship to rest on specially prepared mountings. Generators, electrical boards, cooling and exhaust fans, fireboxes, boilers, condensers, steam turbines, and massive gear boxes – all had to be installed, hooked up, and seen to fit properly before the decks above them could be plated over. While the heavy machinery was dealt with, other parts of the hull received electrical leeds, plumbing, and forced-draft ventilation ducts. HMS Agincourt started life as the Brazilian battleship Rio de Janeiro. She had been contracted with Britain’s Armstrong-Whitworth shipyards as part of a small South American naval arms race between Brazil and Argentina. Keen to make an impression on their Argentine rivals, the Brazilians had insisted their battleship should be especially impressive – and indeed it was. Rio de Janiero would mount 12 inch guns in twin turrets – just as their Argentine rivals – but they insisted on fourteen guns to the Argentine’s twelve. British builders did not think in terms of triple turrets, since the Royal Navy did not trust them. So Rio de Janiero would have her fourteen guns arranged in seven twin turrets – a record that still stands. The keel was laid down in mid-September, 1911, with great ceremony, but world economics soon took a hand in affairs. Without warning, Brazil’s booming rubber industry took a nose-dive and her lucrative trade in coffee fell off dramatically. In a matter of months, Brazil’s finances were in chaos, and the government put Rio de Janiero up for sale in October, 1913. She was purchased by the Ottoman Empire for 2.75 million Pounds and renamed Sultan Osman I. World War I broke out in the middle of her sea trials, prior to delivery, and the British Admiralty wasted no time in exercising a clause in the builders contract. The vessel was seized, literally, under the noses of the Turkish captain and crew that had come to fetch her home. She was accepted into the Royal Navy and the First Lord of the Admiralty, Winston Churchill, bestowed one of his favorite names – Agincourt – of Henry V fame. Having served dutifully, if not heroically, with the Grand Fleet for the duration of the war, Agincourt was eventually sold for scrap in 1922 under the terms of the Washington Naval Treaty. Off the port side, with a steam tug lashed outboard, is “Marine WHV 4” – a barge-mounted floating crane of 100 tons capacity. The steam crane has been shunted into position to assist in removing the roof of Agincourt’s “Wednesday” turret in preparation for lifting out one of the 12 inch rifles while the elevating mechanism is adjusted. (Yes – the battleship’s turrets were named for the days of the week.) The barge and crane were skillfully custom made by the talented @AP who very kindly offered his services to lend a bit of realism to this “CJ”. The model was patterned after just such a floating crane that operated out of the Philadelphia Navy Yard for many years before succumbing to extreme old age. SULTAN OSMAN I AT ARMSTRONG’S FITTING-OUT DOCK, CIRCA 1914. Up until the close of the 19th Century, heavy loads had been lifted using “sheerlegs” – a cumbersome tripod arrangement with two legs forward and a third leg to the rear, attached to a slide, powered by a steam winch. Winching the forelegs “back” brought the load closer to the dock. Letting the winch “out” moved the load in the opposite direction. This simple system had worked for centuries, but it had no lateral motion. If you wanted a load placed a hundred feet to the right or left, you had to move the entire warship! Around 1900, “cantilever cranes” were developed that could hoist, “rack” (to move the load “in” or “out” along the jibe arm), and rotate. These were built of steel girders and operated by a system of steam powered generators running powerful electric motors. The model pictured above has been meticulously assembled – girder by girder – by @AP. The crane is a perfect model of the giant cantilever cranes found in every major shipyard worthy of the name. This 350 ton (capacity) monster is hoisting a gun house and upper assembly aboard for installation. The “base beds” for Agincourt’s main armament barbettes weighed nearly 200 tons apiece. The model is taken from the famous “Titan” crane (see first picture) still on view at John Brown Shipyards, Glasgow, Scotland. It is worth pointing out that the Imperial Dockyard is equipped with two such cranes. I took “liberties” with that point – mainly because I like the model. Not all shipyards could afford a cantilever crane of such size at a price upwards of 80,000 Pounds. And those that could – only purchased one – for installation at the Fitting-Out Basin. Unfortunately for me (since I REALLY like the model), I will follow the “historical script” and there will be no more than two large cantilever cranes in Wilhelmshaven. Here, dockside, you can see two of “AP’s” 100 ton steam cranes (rigged for steam) with the one on the left undergoing a bit of repair and maintenance. There is a welding gang working at the rear while another crew forges a new retaining bracket up front. In the middle you see a detail of Imperial sailors smoothing the rough spots on three brass propellers while a trio of nearby officers supervise. The cranes, maintenance crew, propellers, and Imperial sailors are all crafted by “AP”. This shot shows a 100 ton crane hoisting a 12 inch gun tube across to be installed in one of the gun houses. (You do have to use your imagination – just a bit.) On the dock, a detail of sailors is wiping and oiling the gun tubes before installation, while a second detail is removing the shipping brackets and installing a breech block. Right next to them some dock workers are repairing an old anchor chain prior to applying a fresh coat of gray paint. At the center bottom, you can even see a fresh Navy detail reporting for duty. In time-honored naval tradition, one of the sailors straddles a huge gun tube while oiling it down. ALL are courtesy of the multi-talented “AP”. Here is yet another dockside "vignette" created by "AP" for your enjoyment. Amid the hustle and bustle on the quayside, a detail of Imperial sailors and dockyard workers are busy preforming maintenance and repair duties on a number of winches. After they are overhauled, the winches will be temporarily installed on the ship's deck to assist with hoisting and positioning the heavy steel plates required to complete the superstructure. This shows the “controlled chaos” dockside. Fitting-Out required hundreds of different materials and “fittings”. Steel girders for added structural strength; pipes to carry steam, water, and hydraulic fluids; timber to shore up working spaces until plates could be riveted; boxes and crates full of machined valves, and storage containers filled with thousands of assorted “fittings”. “Fittings” is a quaint builder’s term used to cover everything from cabin doorknobs to ladders, and watertight doors for bulkheads. Here, the rail line has been run right out to span the fitting-out dock, and two heavily laden locomotives are discharging their freight. The immense amount of material came in all shapes, weights, and sizes, and the heaviest loads were, of necessity, delivered by rail. With the “fittings” installed, and “finish” work checked, workmen go through the ship from stem to stern, sweeping, wiping, and painting. The last thing to come aboard are crates and crates of furniture – chairs, desks, wardrobe lockers, bunks for petty officers and above, and hammocks for the seamen. The only thing remaining was for the crew to come aboard and unpack their duffle bags. But one important element has been left out – the sole reason for the ship to exist – the Main Battery guns. KMS BISMARCK TURRET MACHINERY CONFIGURATION In Chapter 5 we discussed how the big rifled guns were made and the turrets (gun houses) assembled. Now we must explore how they were installed. When the fore and aft superstructures have risen far enough to reach the level of any superimposed gun positions, the barbette armor and interior workings must be installed in the round openings left in the decks. The holes go through several interior decks and all the way to the bottom of the ship – possibly as much as 60 feet. The 200 ton barbette base is lowered down to the bottom and fitted into a steel frame that prevents it from moving about. The thick plate will disperse the immense weight of the armored barbette, the inner workings of the gun mounts, and the turret itself. Pre-shaped curving plates as much as 16 inches thick will then be lowered into the well and riveted together to form a protective armored cylinder that will rise all the way to the bottom of the gun turret. The First Level -- (bottom) inside the barbette cylinder is the Shell Working Chamber, with the bottom end of the shell hoist. On the same level outside the barbette armor, but accessible through flash-proof scuttles, are the Shell Rooms. The Second Level – above and inside the barbette, is the Powder Handling Chamber which, through another set of flashproof scuttles, has access to the Powder Magazines located outside the armored barbette. Inside the barbette, the enclosed shell and powder hoists will be installed in the center of the chamber, angling up toward the loading breech of the big guns. These hoists feed ammunition to the massive rifles at the rate of two rounds per minute. The Third Level – supports machinery to run the hoists. The Fourth Level -- is the Turret Working Chamber, with machinery to train the “gun house” (turret) and elevate the heavy gun tubes. (In the inset diagram at top left, you can see the shell hoists rising in the center with an angled powder hoist to either side.) The Fifth Level – (the circular, ribbed, steel collar) supports the turntable – a finely machined, circular roller path upon which the gun house rests and rotates. This level is also the lower floor of the gun house, and provides space for the gun breeches to descend when the barrels are elevated. The Sixth Level – on top of the barbette, is the gun house. The walls, floor, and interior of the gun turret will be assembled (see Chapter 5), piece by piece, from armor plate of varying thickness (some face plates as much as 14 inches). Each gun may be seated inside it’s own compartment, separated from the others by a flash/splinter resistant wall. The entire arrangement, from gun house to shell working chamber, required approximately 80 men to operate – per gun turret – not including magazine personnel. It should be mentioned that not all main gun systems were alike. The specific number of “levels” and the arrangement of magazines, shell rooms, and hoists differed from navy to navy – as did the handling and safety precautions. When all is prepared, the cantilever crane will hoist the massive gun tubes (perhaps 120 tons) and seat them in their cradles. At this point, the turret elevating and training systems will be hooked up and tested for smooth operation. When everything has been checked, double checked, and inspected – the turret roof will be hoisted aboard and riveted in place. The final step before delivering the battleship to the government involves a variety of tests and inspections – and --“Sea Trials”. The ship is readied for sea in all respects – with specified amounts of fuel and “stores” taken aboard to meet agreed upon displacement “trial” weight. A party of naval officers board the vessel to oversee the trials, and the ship puts to sea. Trials may last several hours, or several hours spread over several days, or up to a week of continuous steaming. Ships are usually tested for (1) sea keeping qualities, (2) maximum speed and duration, (3) helm response, (4) turning circle radius, (5) fuel consumption at various speeds over time, (6) stopping distance – and probably an entire checklist of other things. The guns may or may not be exercised at a nearby firing range. When all trials have been successfully passed, the senior naval officer present will officially accept the ship from the builder. The battleship will then proceed to a Naval Dockyard to receive additional “sensitive” equipment – such as special optical rangefinders and gunnery control systems and equipment. Though not exactly “State Secrets”, these items were rarely entrusted to private building yards and even the crew that manned them were often unfamiliar with the mechanical computers they operated. In later years, “Top Secret” radar systems would only be installed in government yards. A period sketch of an Arethusa Class light cruiser under the "Titan" cantilever crane. As always --- MY ETERNAL THANKS to @Barroco Hispano for such beautiful warships. AND MY SPECIAL THANKS TO @AP for his generous offer of assistance – patience in working out “bugs” – imaginative contributions to content – and, most of all, his cheerful dedication to making it all happen. It is much appreciated, my friend. 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 TIME…...The Refit Basin.- 9 Comments
-
- 17
-
-
-
- battleships
- history
- (and 7 more)
-
CHAPTER 16 -- THE DOUBLE QUAY
Dreadnought posted a City Journal entry in IMPERIAL DOCKYARDS WILHELMSHAVEN
Chapter 16: THE DOUBLE QUAY Pictured above is HMS Emperor Of India – the third of four Iron Duke Class dreadnoughts to join the Grand Fleet in 1914. The picture is significant because of the balloon moored to her fantail. During WW II, this sort of balloon was used extensively as a “Barrage Balloon” to prevent low level attacks by the Luftwaffe. In 1919, when this photo was taken, the balloons were referred to as “Kite Balloons”. In previous years, various attempts had been made to tow balloons astern of a battleship to give an observer greater altitude from which to “spot” the “fall of shot” from the guns. Opinions were, understandably, mixed about the value of the concept, but commanding officers were unanimous that during battle, the application would be nothing short of a nightmare! This one is likely being used in a post-war gunnery practice. (Bad ideas tend to linger beyond all reason.) This is an overview showing the lower portion of Marshy Point with the “Double Quay” constructed at the very tip. Additional landfill had been considered, but it was decided to keep the main harbor channel sufficiently wide to accommodate ships temporarily anchored in the stream. The “South Harbor Control” point is on the right, and the edge of the crowded docks of “The Mainland” can be seen in the upper right corner. Here, Emperor Of India rides snug at her berth. If you examine the hull just below the forward turrets, you will notice five guns mounted in enclosed casemates on the main deck. (There is one more mounted aft, below the aft gun turret.) These are guns of the “secondary battery”, mounted in broadside, on either beam. “Dreadnought” battleship, by definition, had only “main battery” and “secondary battery” guns. Though any gun could be fired at any target, “main battery” guns were generally used to fight other battleships, while “secondary battery” guns were used against smaller targets. During the Pre-Dreadnought Era, it was not uncommon to find a bewildering mix of 12 inch, 10 inch, 9.2 inch, 8 inch, and 7 inch guns on a single battleship. The theory was idiotically simple. The more guns of different caliber fired at a target meant more shells “in the air” – big guns fired slowly, smaller guns fired faster. The idea was to, literally, smother the target with a hail of shells in the hope of demoralizing, hindering, damaging, or sinking it. A bit like closing your eyes and firing a shotgun. Anyone having served in the military is trained to fire two rounds, adjust aim, and fire two more. Why? Because, like a battleship, your bullets may go wide of the mark, fall short, or land “over” the other side. The blizzard of similar-sized shells fired by pre-dreadnoughts kicked up such a forest of water spouts that it was impossible to correct the aim of any single gun. Admiral Fisher, “father” of the modern dreadnought, believed in controlled, aimed, fire – so the mixed armament concept had to go. HMS Dreadnought was launched with the greatest number of 12 inch “battleship-killers” he could fit on a deck, and 4 inch “secondary” guns to deal with torpedo boats. Later, as torpedo boats and destroyers grew larger, 6 inch guns were substituted. The “Double Quay” arrangement uses two Battleship Quay lots sharing a common workshop /machine shop between them. The Battleship Quay, itself, is a “standard” lot modified from the older PEG lot. It might seem like a short-cut, but creating several dozen “unique” battleship docks was a rather daunting prospect. I chose, instead, to build the back end of the dock with 1x1 modular pieces that would allow more variety. The NBVC “Container Port” series is ideally suited to re-lotting to create a multitude of 1x1 puzzle pieces for seaports in general, and naval docks in particular. And Paeng’s “Grunge Concrete” fillers are just as adaptable and an absolute “must have” item. Note the two “MV Rian” lighters hove to off the end of the dock. Courtesy of @Barroco Hispano. 325_EOI_NT 02 326_EOI_NT 03 Adjacent to Emperor Of India, we find the RM Ersatz Grosser Kurfurst of 1932. As mentioned earlier in this series, the warship is based on a battleship “design study” carried out by the Reichsmarine naval architects in 1932, during the Wiemar Republic. It should be noted that the warship never got beyond the design stage. A small lighter is coming alongside the battleship’s port quarter to deliver operating supplies and ship’s stores – a common practice in naval bases. Again, the “standard” Battleship Quay has been used with the rear portions of the lot filled in with modular 1x1 puzzle pieces. This is quick, easy, and guarantees that each “quay lot” will be different from the others. It is also useful in places where the available space varies in shape or size. The “timed-prop” oil tanks on the right are by @twrecks Yet another view shows the naval warehouses that serve the three warships birthed on Marshy Point. They would hold everything from pencils, to hardware and small repair parts, food stuffs, and even the perennial “toiletry accessories”. The warehouses are the “Small Naval Warehouse” from PEG’s “SNM Navy Series”. The Versailles Treaty ending WW I left the new German Republic with six obsolete pre-dreadnoughts of the Deutschland and Braunsweig Classes – the newest of which was eleven years old. The treaty limitations only allowed construction of replacements when a vessel reached twenty years service – and then only 10,000 tons displacement. In effect, the treaty prevented Germany from building capital ships that could stand in the line of battle against ships three and four times larger. But the Reichsmarine (RM) knew opportunity might, some day, present a more advantageous situation, so their designers dutifully churned out numerous “design studies” to see what could be accomplished within treaty limitations – as well as outside those limitations. A “design study” is, basically, a “pipe-dream” translated to paper. Somebody has a bright idea and jots it down on the back of an envelope, or possibly a napkin during the “Port & cigars” portion of the evening. Sometimes just a crude sketch accompanied by some basic particulars – displacement, speed, firepower, and endurance. This gets handed to a naval draftsman who produces an overhead deck plan and a side profile to match the envelope sketch. A “Specifics Sheet” is attached containing more detailed data “estimates” on dimensions, displacement, armament, armor weights, boilers & machinery, speed, fuel storage, and endurance. Now we have a “Concept Paper”, which is circulated to various departments of the design office. When all departments have added their input, the pages and pages of figures are checked, and double checked for errors. If all is in order, the “bright idea” is approved for a final “study”. This results in the “official” production of hundreds of pages of instructions, tables, and figures accompanied by an entire suite of blueprints, hull plans, deck plans, armor plans, and technical detail drawings – the actual “design study”. The “pipe-dream” has become something tangible. It shows you what could be accomplished if you chose to build the ship, and gives you enough information to decide if it is cost-effective. Sort of a “feasibility study”. It was not uncommon for eight or ten such “studies” to precede the order of a battleship from the builder’s yard. (This also shows why it was advantageous to build battleships in “classes”. The Kaiserliche Marine built five of the original Konigs on the same set of plans – quick, efficient, and vastly less expensive.) By 1932, the winds of political change were blowing across Germany, and yet another design study was undertaken to see what could be thrown together on short notice. Using the old plans and specifications from the successful Konig and Bayern Classes, they kept this, threw out that, and added a bit here and there until they came up with what you see. They knew the various armor and armament schemes were proven, both classes had been deemed excellent fighting ships, and industry was already familiar with construction of the components. I call this ship Ersatz Grosser Kurfurst – mainly for lack of any designated name. “Ersatz”, loosely translated means “replacement”, and I selected one of the names from the old Imperial Navy Konig Class. If you compare the model to the plan drawings of the 1914 class, it is readily apparent that there were few “cosmetic” changes. The large “military mast” was retained rather than changing to a tripod arrangement, but the “spotting top” was enlarged and equipped with more modern rangefinders and gunnery control devices. The bridge structure was unchanged, and though they kept the same funnels, they did add the modern, “raked” funnel caps that were coming into use. Documentary evidence (little survived WW II) indicates the armor belt was strengthened and a thin “bursting layer” added over the exposed deck areas. Having withstood the fire of British 15 inch guns at Jutland, the old armor scheme would not have needed much improvement. The biggest change was in armament. The 1932 designers retained the ten gun configuration, but upgraded from 12 inch to the 15 inch guns mounted in the Bayern Class. This shot shows a catapult installed atop the midships turret – a trend that took hold among all naval architects in the 1930’s. But no provisions appear to have been made for hangers, so a single float plane would be carried on the mount. It can only be assumed the most modern turbine machinery would be installed – powerful enough to generate 26 or 27 knots – possibly also including a powerful diesel engine for economic cruising speeds. Note the fine detail on the lighter coming alongside – the “MV Rian”. The only obvious flaw in the 1932 Design is the handling of the secondary batteries. At a time when secondary batteries on battleships were being mounted in turrets arranged on the superstructure, Ersatz Grosser Kurfurst retained her old 1914 placement. This throwback to the past might be excused – considering the difficulty in positioning six new turrets that would NOT block firing arcs of the midships main battery turret. It would also have meant massive alterations to the internal subdivision to accommodate new powder magazines, shell rooms, and ammunition hoists. And more magazines would have called for more weight given over to armored protection. The only real problem was that placing the 5.9 inch guns in main deck casemates was never a good idea. German warships were notorious for their low freeboard. It did make them a harder target to hit, but it invariably made them “wet” forward in heavy seas. When warships run at high speed, the action of the propellers tends to make the fantail “dig in” – it literally dips down by a few feet. Some warships were known to take waves across the quarter deck at high speed. High speed or heavy seas react with the moving warship and cause “wave lines” along the hull where seas will rise up alongside – similar to a “bow wave”. Casemate gunners often found themselves handling bagged powder charges while sloshing around in a couple of feet of water – and that was a sunny day at high speed. At battle speeds in a choppy sea, waves might well roll into the casemates, making the guns unworkable. But taken as a whole, the new design would likely have made her a match for most of her WW II Atlantic opponents. Next door to Ersatz Grosser Kurfurst, we have the South Harbor Control point. Every harbor worthy of the definition has a “Port Authority” and the busy ones have control points – much like air traffic controllers. There’s one controlling the North Ship Channel and this one controls the South Channel. I forget who made the lot, but they have my thanks – I use this one a lot. This is the South Shore Tugboat Station – a large one – three piers instead of the usual two. The steam tugs assigned here handle all the traffic for the Double Quay on the west and the Dry Docks to their north. Since the station sits right on a bend in the Main Channel, they may also be called upon to help warships make the curve without incident. Three blasts on the ship’s steam whistle and they saddle-up! They are very busy! Steam tug by "WolfZe" – with thanks. Again --- I cannot THANK @Barroco Hispano enough for the long hours he puts in making such beautiful warships. 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 TIME…...Intermission -- Odds & Ends. -
CHAPTER 15 -- MARSHY POINT
Dreadnought posted a City Journal entry in IMPERIAL DOCKYARDS WILHELMSHAVEN
Chapter 15: Marshy Point Marshy Point was just that – the tip of a waterlogged salt marsh cradled on the east by a long scrap of land defining the East Channel of the anchorage. Beyond the East Channel lay the East Mole, and beyond that, the open water of Jade Bay. The “scrap of land” gradually built-up into the heart of the dockyard and came to be called “the Mainland”. As the dockyard continued to develop, “Mainland” became crowded with working basins, industry, and dry docks. When a new coaling station was needed, they looked west across the salt marsh to the dry land along the reservation boundary. The dredges were set to work carving out the “Coaling Basin” and the “spoil” was dumped on Marshy Point. Still not much use, a series of pylons were driven into the seabed around the point to provide temporary berths for the growing number of dreadnoughts in the Hochsee Fleet. (See picture above.) Eventually, little Marshy Point filled in, rose above the tides, and grew large enough for construction of a host of new facilities. Industry and warehouses moved in, roads and rail lines were laid out, and permanent berths for three battleships were constructed along with a pier for the Fleet Salvage Tugs. On the upper side of the point, HMS Marlborough is returning after a two day “shake-down” cruise to test recent engine repairs. Having first topped off her coal bunkers, she is being maneuvered, gingerly, into position against the mooring quay. The steam tugs, small, but with powerful engines – will, literally, push the 26,000 ton armored giant sideways until snug against the dock. Once hawsers have been made fast, the crew will begin taking on stores. There will be no rest for the weary sailors until their Kapitan Zur See can report to his Admiral that Marlborough is “combat-ready”. “Peace” is but a fleeting chimera – the wise man prepares for the unexpected. Marlborough was named in honor of John Churchill, 1st Duke Of Marlborough, and ancestor to Sir Winston Churchill. She belonged to the Iron Duke Class of dreadnoughts and joined the Home Fleet in June, 1914. With the creation of the Grand Fleet, she became Flagship of the 1st Battle Squadron and served for the duration of the war. Present at the Battle of Jutland, HMS Marlborough engaged various portions of the Hochsee Fleet on several occasions. About 18:25 hours, the light cruiser SMS Wiesbaden appeared out of the smoke and Marlborough opened fire along with the rest of her battleship division. She fired five salvos before a premature detonation in the right barrel of “A” turret disabled the gun. Desperate to defend herself, an already damaged Wiesbaden launched torpedoes around 18:45 hours and scored a hit. The torpedo struck Marlborough near the starboard diesel generator room, blasting a 28 foot hole in the hull and causing significant flooding. The rising water eventually flooded the starboard side, forward boiler room and reduced the ship’s speed to 16 knots. Within mere minutes, SMS V-48, a lone German torpedo boat, appeared and launched more torpedoes. This attack forced the British battleships to take evasive action and they did not resume their original course until 19:00 hours. Minutes later, Marlborough re-engaged Wiesbaden, fired four salvos, and struck her with three large caliber shells – effectively neutralizing the burning wreck. Marlborough now shifted her fire onto the German battle line, fired thirteen salvos in six minutes, and scored three heavy caliber hits on SMS Grosser Kurfurst at approximately 11,000 yards. Marlborough ceased firing when the targets became obscured by smoke and haze. The dreadnought maintained her position in the battle line with great difficulty, and it was not known until much later that the torpedo hit damaged some forty watertight compartments. During the later pursuit of the Hochsee Fleet, Marlborough’s boiler room bulkheads began to visibly weaken under pressure from the flooding, and speed was further reduced to 12 knots. When Marlborough and her division had fallen behind by 12 miles, Adm. Jellicoe realized the danger and detached the damaged warship with orders to make for the nearest repair yard. She managed to reach the Humber safely, but not without determination, superior seamanship, and a great deal of luck. In her later life, HMS Marlborough was assigned to the Black Sea in 1919 as part of the Allied Intervention in the Russian Civil War. She arrived off Yalta, in the Crimea, on April 5th, 1919, to evacuate members of the former Russian Royal Family from nearby Livadia Palace. Among those evacuated was the Dowager Empress Maria Feodorovna (formerly Princess Dagmar of Denmark). The Dowager Empress was a sister of England’s Queen Alexandra and an aunt of the then currently reigning King-Emperor, George V of England. This shot provides a detail view of the “battleship Quay”, it’s composition, and arrangement. The quay, itself, is a 2x12 “re-lotted” from the old PEG “SNM Series - Pier One”. The original lot was reduced in depth, lengthened by two “squares”, and given a complete “face-lift” with new props. The towers at each end were “borrowed” from a Maxis airport, and the light crawler cranes were added to handle “light” cargo – rather than bulky military dock cranes. The “boxes” arranged across the front are “WMP Seawalls” – chosen because they resemble wooden “caissons”. The timbers would protect the warship’s hull when snug against the quay. The dirty-gray concrete area is composed of 1x1 lots from the “NBVC Container Port Series” – customized to include a wide variety of props and “activity”. The steam train is the PEG “Tank Engine” – modified to show “steam”. Note the two engines in the second gondola – they might well be new diesel generators to replace the ones damaged in battle. Beyond the tracks, you have a line of Paeng Grunge Concrete pads – modified to include personnel and Quonset huts. While Germany’s Battle Fleet remained small -- in both size and numbers – the naval bases were well served by simply leasing civilian tug boats and their crews. But as warship design evolved, the ships grew bigger and the tonnage heavier – and so did German ambitions at sea. Tirpitz forged ahead with plans to make German seapower a reality, convincing the Reichstag, in 1898, to pass the first in a series of “Naval Laws” guaranteeing a steady flow of new battleships and the money to build them. Promoted to Vizeadmiral for his success, Tirpitz doubled-down. The year after the first law was passed, Tirpitz reported to the Reichstag that it was a great success. The very next year, he told the Reichstag that advances in naval technology and the increasing demands of Germany’s colonial possessions required that the Naval Law be amended and increased. This performance would be staged regularly because the Vizeadmiral was, if anything, a man with “Grand Designs”. At one point prior to The Great War, he planned a vast fleet of 68 battleships !! With the steady arrival of new and bigger ships, it was determined that the Hochsee Fleet could no longer rely on civilian tug boats to handle the increasing work load. First, a class of steam tugs were designed and ordered from the builder’s yards to handle the constant traffic within dockyards. And as dreadnoughts grew ever larger and more complex, it became obvious that larger and more powerful sea-going tugs would have to be built to Navy specifications. These would be known as “Fleet Tugs”, though they were largely fitted-out as salvage tugs – with a few military attributes. Mostly, Fleet Tugs were equipped with one gun, usually a 4.1 inch, and smoke generators for defensive purposes. Unlike many Fleet auxiliaries, they could communicate by signal flag or wireless. At around 15,00 tons, they were twice or three times the size of a harbor tug, fitted with powerful engines for speed and towing, large and solidly built winching equipment, and fitted with powerful pumping systems that could be connected to ships in distress. These were “rescue tugs” that could be sent out to save a crippled dreadnought. Compared to the potential loss of a multi-million Mark battleship – fleet tugs were a small expense to bear. The Fleet Tug pier is re-lotted from the PEG “SNM Destroyer Pier Set”. I placed two piers on a 5x7 lot and borrowed the control tower from the small Maxis airport. The base texture comes from the NBVC “Container Port Series” with the same fencing. There are fuel storage tanks for the diesel-powered boats and barracks for the Navy crews that were “on call”. In this closer shot, below, you see the Dutch Salvage Tug Zwarte Zee by "WolfZe". When launched in the early 1960’s, she was reputedly the most powerful tug afloat, and frequently made newspaper headlines with her miraculous rescues in the storm-tossed North Sea and feats of brute strength. Though much more modern, Zwarte Zee is remarkably similar to salvage tugs from the 1920’s. She has a long, thin hull (5 to 1 ratio) which improves her speed while providing adequate stability in high sea states. Her massive engines could drive her through most head-seas while the raised forecastle deck extends nearly half the boat’s length – better to prevent taking large waves over the bow (often referred to as being “wet”). You might think it odd that they do not look “military” – but you would be in error. Both the Royal Navy and the Kaiserliche Marine ordered their tugs from civilian builders to avoid taking up valuable building slips better used for warships. The builder simply used civilian fittings and built them as any other tugboat – hence the enclosed wheelhouses (unusual on turn-of-the-Century warships). Though hard-working and dedicated, the heroic efforts of these boats went largely unsung. It is worth noting, however, that such ships as these once saved SMS Seydlitz. The battlecruiser had been, quite literally, in the thick of the fighting at Jutland and suffered terribly with twenty-one large caliber shell hits (12 inch, 13.5 inch, and even two 15 inch). Unfortunately and unusually, six of those shells fell on the lightly armored forecastle deck and were believed to contain a powerful Picric Acid based bursting charge called Lyddite. (When it exploded, the entire surrounding area would turn a ghastly blackish-yellow.) The shells passed through the deck and exploded some fifteen feet inside the ship, causing massive damage and opening large holes in the ship’s side just above the waterline. Maneuvering at high speed, it was inevitable the battlecruiser would begin taking on water. As more and more water came inboard, the bow settled deeper and deeper. With dusk approaching, Seydlitz reduced speed to lessen the flooding and took stock of the damage to gun turrets and the rest of the ship. It was decided nothing more could be accomplished, and to remain might result in the loss of the ship. Seydlitz set course for Horns Reef and limped along with her bow already dipping below the waves. Some twenty hours later, she was still mid-way between Horns Reef and safety in Wilhelmshaven. Her bow had sunk so low the waves were breaking against her forward gun turret. With mere minutes remaining before abandoning ship, smoke from two salvage tugs appeared on the horizon. With tugs lashed on either beam and their powerful pumps operating at full capacity, they reached the mouth of Jade Bay twelve hours later. Dockyard engineers estimated the battlecruiser had taken on 5,300 tons of water. The Fleet Tugs rescued Seydlitz from a watery grave, and she survived to serve again. Again --- MY THANKS to @Barroco Hispano for the beautiful warship models that made this possible. 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 WEEK…...The Double Quay.- 4 Comments
-
- 11
-
-
CHAPTER 14 -- THE TORPEDO BOATS
Dreadnought posted a City Journal entry in IMPERIAL DOCKYARDS WILHELMSHAVEN
Chapter 14: Torpedo Boats The warship pictured above is an “A Class” coastal torpedo boat of the Kaiserliche Marine. Built between 1914 and 1918, they were small, shallow draft ships designed to operate out of occupied ports along Belgium’s Flanders coast. British big-gun “Monitors” (up to 18 inch) continually harassed the German Army’s flank by standing just offshore and lobbing monster shells into their positions. These coastal torpedo boats were designed to counter just such activity. Though smaller than their ocean-going cousins, they could make 28 knots, carried two 88mm guns, a single 18 inch torpedo tube, and are indicative of the torpedo boat genre. Long and thin, they were built for speed, and their low freeboard and minimal superstructure provided little to shoot at. The raised forecastle deck, forward of a rather “Spartan” bridge, had a pronounced flare above the waterline to throw waves away from the boat rather than take them over the deck. Taken as a whole, the concept of the torpedo boat had evolved into an inexpensive and efficient ship-killer. EARLY FRENCH TORPEDO BOAT circa 1880. Note the two cylindrical torpedo tubes protruding from the hull on either side of the bow. In 1890, when Alfred Thayer Mahan published his “Influence Of Seapower Upon History”, it was a seminal event. The book fired the imaginations of such World leaders as Theodore Roosevelt and Wilhelm II, and was received favorably by serving professionals like the Royal Navy’s Jackie Fisher. The book’s content rode the swelling tide born of the “Industrial Revolution” and it’s effect on modern warship design. Mahan’s theories provided both a valid excuse and the perfect vehicle for a nation to pursue “naval supremacy”. But Mahan did not “invent the wheel”, nor did he “re-invent” the wheel – he simply shined a light on the subject and put out a big “welcome mat”. DUTCH TORPEDO BOAT 1886. Note the open caps of the bow torpedo tubes, the conning position with searchlight on top, and twin stacks for the coal-fired steam engines. Britain, last invaded by sea in 1066, had long enjoyed the benefits of an island nation. No particular spot in England was very far from the sea, and the English were, almost by nature, a seafaring people. With the epic “Defeat of the Spanish Armada” in 1588 – they became a seapower to be reckoned with. Roughly two hundred years of on-and-off struggle with France developed the Royal Navy into a force of over three hundred wooden battleships that truly “ruled the waves”. Though challenged by the Dutch (mid 17th Century) and French, these nations were never able to topple British naval dominance. EXPERIMENTAL TORPEDO BOAT 1883 – carried aboard Brazilian ironclad Riachuelo as part of her armament. Note “notch” in stem for torpedo tube. By 1820, many French officers and naval theorists had concluded they could never match Britain’s preponderance of shipyards and enormous capacity to launch wooden battleships. Nor could a Loire Valley farmer be turned into a seaman to match the likes of England’s “Jack Tar”. But a small group of young and progressive officers continued to seek ways in which France might achieve parity. Thus, was born the Jeune Ecole school of thought. SMS S-90 circa 1910 – torpedo boats grew larger and more heavily armed with each new class. This “Young School” (Jeune Ecole) advocated the use of numerous, small, heavily armed vessels to fight enemy ships-of-the-line, while commerce raiders would cripple the trade of the rival nation. The first serious advance of this strategy came in the 1820’s, when General Henri Paixhans invented explosive shell guns for warships. (See Battle of Sinop for first use.) He advocated the powerful guns for small steam warships that, working in “packs”, could easily destroy much larger wooden battleships. Though the tactical theory was sound, and Paixhans’ guns were, indeed, lethal – there was no further advance in the “David versus Goliath” concept – while the introduction of the ironclad warship (La Gloire – 1859) made it somewhat less of “a sure thing”. But rapidly advancing science tipped the scales yet again. TORPEDO BOAT 142 1897 – Note the “turtle-back” design and the single bow torpedo tube, but no guns. In 1864, an obscure Austro-Hungarian naval officer, Giovanni Luppis, approached an equally obscure English engineer, Robert Whitehead, running a small factory in Rijeka (modern Croatia). Luppis provided rough drawings of a crude, floating, explosive device propelled and maneuvered by ropes handled from shore. Luppis’ idea was entirely impractical, but an intrigued Whitehead tinkered with the idea and had, by 1866, produced the self-propelled “Whitehead Torpedo”. (Not to be confused with fixed explosive devices, towed devices, floating mines, spar torpedoes, or even land mines – which were all, at one time or another, referred to as “torpedoes”.) To “cut to the chase” – by 1900, the navies of the world had embraced the weapon and added submarines, torpedo boats, and torpedo-boat-destroyers to carry them into battle. A MIXED BAG of moored German torpedo boats, circa 1911 – some “S Class”, a “T Class”, and even one “G Class”. Note the side-by-side mooring technique. In the Imperial Dockyards Wilhelmshaven, space was at a premium by the time torpedo boats had become a necessary adjunct to the battle fleet. But “necessity is the Mother of invention” – so small “nests” of torpedo boats were squeezed into improvised mooring facilities in the harbor. This “nest” hosts ten “G Class” boats of the 2nd Torpedo Boat Flotilla, commanded by Fregattenkapitan Schuur. The Fregattenkapitan will have to make do with cramped quarters for the time being. A new harbor under construction on the east Jade shore will accommodate the hundred or more torpedo boats and destroyers of the Hochsee Fleet. Based on the concept of “temporary” mooring arrangements for a recently assimilated warship type, I opted for a “base” that looked like it had been thrown together in a couple of weeks. The boats are moored by the bow to the pier with a stern anchor out to prevent “swinging”. In reality, they would have been moored side-by-side, tightly, with fenders between ships to prevent “rubbing”. (Commonly known as “nesting”.) But “game mechanics” prevented that. On shore, port engineers knocked out several Quonset huts for the small crews, and an office / living quarters for the Fregattenkapitan. Messing and other living arrangements would have, of necessity, been quite impromptu. The pier is from the “Nob – 1905 Series”. The Quonset huts are from the PEG “Army Base Series”. And the “office” is a re-purposed “SFBT” railroad signal box. The G-Class torpedo boats were all built at the Krupp Germaniawerft shipyard in Kiel under contract to Argentina. But wartime needs prevailed, and in 1915, the boats were commissioned into the Kaiserliche Marine as “destroyers”. Their physical characteristics, armament, and design put them firmly in the “torpedo boat” category – but the Imperial Navy of that day made no distinction between the two types. The ships were 270 feet long with a beam of only 27 feet, which gave them a length to breadth ratio of 10-1. This hull ratio was ideal to obtain the highest possible speed for the designed ship-horsepower. Two steam turbines drove twin propellers at 33 knots. This view (above) clearly shows how extremely narrow the boats were, and the utilitarian nature of the design. One 88mm guns is mounted at the bow, another at the stern, and a third amidships – all without protective shields. Just behind the forecastle break, a single 21 inch torpedo tube is mounted on either beam, while two twin torpedo tubes are mounted on centreline, abaft the third funnel. The fact that there are only three small guns is clear indication that the sole purpose of the “torpedo boat” was to deliver torpedoes to the target. Manning torpedo boats might well have been considered a “suicide mission”. There was precious little cover on their decks, even less armor protection in their hulls – and by virtue of their “mission statement” – anything they were sent to attack would be much bigger, far better protected, and armed to the teeth with a secondary battery of “QF” 6 inch guns. In the picture below, you see the torpedo crew manning a single tube mount. A crank system was used to rotate and aim the tube, while the men would “push” on the piece to speed up the process. The “gunner” (bent over at rear) would judge the angle of the shot, then pull a lever, launching the torpedo from the tube with a charge of compressed air. Boats designed to carry “reloads” were rare, so one or two torpedoes might be fired in a single attack, saving the rest for later. Torpedo Tube Crew It is worth noting that a single 6 inch shell hit could disable a torpedo boat (historically, the shells tended to land in the machinery spaces), while a second hit would likely sink it. On the other side of the coin, the average dreadnought carried a broadside 6 inch battery of between six and eight guns – each capable of firing eight rounds per minute. But sometime around 1909, Admirals lost faith in this “hail of fire” defense and felt their precious dreadnoughts threatened. The logical answer seemed to be more torpedo boats, but with more and heavier guns, to fight off the enemy torpedo boats. Hence, the “torpedo boat destroyer” was born. The Great War strained economies the world over, and having two such similar ship types seemed wasteful. Between the World Wars, the little torpedo boat fell from favor to be replaced by the bigger, faster, and more heavily armed destroyer that we know today. The tactical employment of the torpedo boat flotillas was fairly straight-forward. The sailing formation of the Hochsee Fleet was usually a line-ahead column for each battle squadron, with three squadrons steaming abreast. Torpedo boat flotillas were deployed on the flanks, front, and rear of the formation to “screen” against submarine attack. 299_Torpedo Boat screening flank of Heligoland Class Bsttleships of 1st Battle Squadron. When the advance scouting group (1st Scouting Group) located the enemy, the Admiral Commanding would order the fleet to deploy into battle formation – usually a single column, line-ahead. The torpedo boats automatically fell back and took up station along the disengaged side of the battle line. This shielded them, somewhat, from the fire of the enemy fleet while keeping them handy to respond to an enemy torpedo boat attack, or to launch their own attack. 300_Torpedo Boat in battle on disengaged side of Konig Class battleship. Note the great clouds of smoke and difficulty in spotting the enemy. Torpedo Boats were used much like “cavalry” on 19th Century battlefields. If the enemy launched a torpedo attack, you threw your own torpedo boats out to blunt it. If an enemy ship became isolated, torpedo boats might be sent to sink it. If the pressure on the battle line became uncomfortable, an Admiral could order a torpedo attack to distract the enemy, throw off their aim, and break up their formation. If the battle was going badly, an Admiral might choose to disengage and would send torpedo boats to distract the enemy yet again. Torpedo boats were very versatile – and obviously, considered expendable. 301_Torpedo Boats cutting the line between Nassau Class dreadnoughts of the 1st Battle Squadron. When ordered to attack, the Kapitanleutnants would ring for full speed, put the helm “hard over”, and cut through the gaps between the shielding dreadnoughts of their own battle line, form-up, and race toward the enemy line. Often, they were accompanied by a light cruiser (their Flotilla Leader) which would attempt to draw fire off the small boats while getting in range to launch torpedoes as well. HMS UNDAUNTED AND FOUR DESTROYERS ATTACKING DURING THE BATTLE OFF TEXEL 1914. All of these “seemingly” clear tactics were being carried out in the face of (possibly) some 64 lumbering dreadnoughts blasting out great clouds of gunsmoke and belching blankets of funnel smoke from engines operating at maximum speed. The sky would be quite dark and the constant thunder of gunfire would shake your very bones and pound at your ears. Meanwhile, there are now more than a hundred torpedo boats and their “mother hen” cruisers engaged in a high-speed swirling, slashing melee between the two fleets – fought at close quarters with the desperation of a knife fight in a darkened alley. Suddenly, small groups of torpedo boats break through and race the last few hundred yards to get into firing position – all the while smothered by shell splashes and dodging near misses from the hail of shells fired by the battleship’s secondary batteries. GERMAN TORPEDO CREW READY TO FIRE. With the torpedoes gone, the boats execute a sharp turn-away and race to get out of range – twisting and turning to avoid the deadly shells. Some torpedoes might hit a target, some might miss, but the torpedo boat crews rarely knew the outcome. They were too busy staying alive and afloat. And that was just one encounter on what might be a long day of battle. At Jutland, in 1916, it was, indeed, a long day of battle. After the final “battle-turn-away” of the day, the Hochsee Fleet fumbled around in the failing light, trying to avoid the British Fleet and set a course SE by south for Horns Reef and home. The British also set a course for Horns Reef in hopes of bringing the Germans to battle before they could reach Wilhelmshaven. With, literally, hundreds of warships scattered about – some lost and disoriented – two fleets making for the same spot on the chart would inevitably lead to a night full of terrifying chance encounters. In the early pre-dawn darkness on June 1st, the cruiser HMS Faulknor was leading several divisions of destroyers when a line of German battleships appeared out of the night. The Germans were expecting to see their own torpedo boats and only two ships opened fire on them – and only briefly. Faulknor circled her small force around in the darkness and approached from ahead of the German ships so that they would pass on opposite courses. About 03:00, the German battleships began to turn away and the British, reluctant to miss an opportunity – fired twelve torpedoes. Ten minutes later, they reached the German line. There were only two hits. It is generally agreed that two torpedoes fired by HMS Onslaught struck SMS Pommern amidships. The torpedoes probably set off one of the 7 inch magazines, which started a lightning-fast chain of explosions. In mere seconds, flames engulfed the ship and rose mast high before a final massive explosion broke the ship in half. Large pieces of debris hurtled through the air as the two pieces of the ship capsized, floated briefly, then went under. Pommern was one of the Deutschland Class pre-dreadnoughts comprising the 2nd Battle Squadron, and she took all 839 of her crew with her. That is the clearest demonstration of the terrible power possessed by the tiny torpedo boats. MANY THANKS to @Barroco Hispano for his superb warship models. 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 WEEK…...Marshy Point.- 7 Comments
-
- 11
-
-
-
CHAPTER 13 -- SHORE BILLETING
Dreadnought posted a City Journal entry in IMPERIAL DOCKYARDS WILHELMSHAVEN
Chapter 13: Shore Billeting The phrase “shore billet” is common maritime parlance – “shore” referring to land, while “billet” can mean either a place of lodging, or a “job” or “duty”. If an officer transfers from a warship to administrative duties ashore – then he could be said to have secured a “comfy shore billet”. If the same officer is assigned a room in the “Bachelor Officers Quarters”, his room could also be called his billet. For our purposes, “billet” will refer to on-shore living arrangements for crews of the Kaiserliche Marine. Pictured above is a “1000 Mann Kaserne” (barracks) built on the Wilhelmshaven base prior to The Great War. Not much has been written about these buildings in English texts, but it can be assumed there was a “mess hall” in part of the basement or ground floor, with other small areas designated for building administrative purposes. Beyond that, it was merely a gigantic barracks house – a “no frills” hotel. Some are still in use today. The picture below is a period postcard of the same “kaserne” showing a detachment of armed sailors. With “Gunboat Diplomacy” being what it was during the “Colonial Period”, it paid to train sailors in close-order drill, and the use of small arms, machine-guns, and light artillery. Often, a warship was the only show of force that could respond if the natives got restless. The postcard, in itself, is a matter of some interest. When young Wilhelm II ascended the Imperial Throne, having read Alfred Thayer Mahan’s “The Influence Of Sea Power Upon History” – he decided he must have a great navy. Being King of Prussia (as well as German Kaiser) he already had the finest army in Europe. (The joke circulating in diplomatic circles was...”Most kingdoms have an army – but the Prussian Army has it’s own kingdom!”) And Wilhelm being Wilhelm, insisted His navy must be superior to that of “Uncle Bertie” (England’s Edward VII). In 1887, Wilhelm met Korvettenkapitan Alfred Tirpitz who shared the Kaiser’s admiration of Mahan. One thing led to another, and by 1896 Tirpitz had been promoted and given the post of Secretary of the Imperial Navy. Tirpitz, backed by the Throne, began the quest for a navy that would become the second largest in the world. As in most nations, it was not easy to get battleship money out of the Reichstag. After all, what did a farmer in Silesia care about a battleship? So a massive public relations campaign was undertaken to change hearts and minds. Among the tactics employed, was the formation of a “Navy League”. (Much like a college “Alumni Booster Club”.) These naval “fan clubs” sprang up all over Germany and among the perks handed out to members were these postcards. They bore pictures of various warships, Naval personalities, and dockyard scenes. The cards could also be purchased at newsstands and tobacconists and were collected and traded much like today’s “Baseball Cards”. Even the British saw the value of boosting public support and similar cards were included with the purchase of a pack of “Players Cigarettes”. This photo of HMS Iron Duke was used in that series. But information about the buildings is scarce. Aerial photographs (rare in those days) yield little data. And after more than a hundred years, and extensive WW II bombing, it is almost impossible to determine where the buildings were located or how they were laid out. But with 37 major warships and numerous smaller craft home-ported in Wilhelmshaven, they were key to the operation of the fleet. The various barracks would have housed upwards of 50,000 men when the warships were at anchor. Unlike other navies, German sailors did not “live” in their ships. When at sea the men lived a “sailor’s life” and the only room they could call their own was big enough to swing a hammock. Even the big ships were dimly lit, cramped, often damp and frequently “wet”, with poor ventilation. Messing arrangements aboard ship had changed little from the days of Nelson and hygiene was a matter best left to the imagination. Geography mandated they would largely operate in the North Sea – notorious for fog, wind, squalls, and eternally choppy seas. The only way to maintain any sort of good morale was to billet the crews ashore when not on active operations. Lacking any solid information, and working in an already crowded map tile – I chose to represent this vital aspect of the fleet / harbor with a specific set of piers and a “rough” barracks arrangement. Behind the warship piers, the barracks buildings are laid out on three sides of a rectangle with a “parade” area. The closest thing I could find to a German Naval Barracks was the “Union Club - Sydney” by @mattb325. Though much smaller than the kaserne, the lot is attractive with architecture reminiscent of the period, and has a “utilitarian – military” feel. Obviously, I could not accommodate 50,000 men, so I built a billeting area sufficient to illustrate the concept. In this close-up, you can see water towers placed for water supply and fire prevention. The small office, center bottom, is occupied by “support staff” assigned to the facility. They would be responsible for ordering supplies, equipment, bedding, laundry services, and victuals. The formations on the parade represent a large “ship’s company” as well as smaller formations for “divisions” and “sections”. Occupying the center of the parade is the “Administration Building”, re-purposed from the “Bathing Pavillion” by @mattb325. It is very similar to buildings still found on many of the surviving German Army “Kasernes” (bases). Germans are well known for their administrative talents and would most certainly have had a “billeting officer”, complete with staff and clerical support. The building also provides an “open mess” for the officers of the various ships. Next to the flagpole is a statue of the Navy’s “patron saint” – Wilhelm II. On the left side of the parade, you see two ship’s companies mustered and a small supply warehouse. Usually, when the fleet was at anchor, one of the old pre-dreadnoughts would act as a guard ship off the mouth of the Jade – with accompanying cruisers acting as outlaying scouts. Just offshore of Wilhelmshaven would be a “half-battle-squadron” (four battleships) with steam up as a “response force” should the guard ship require help. This “response” duty would be rotated among the fleet. The remainder of the fleet would be tied up at various mooring points with their crews assigned to barracks. The men would rise early, tidy barracks, breakfast, and march to their ships to relieve the “night harbor watch” before beginning their daily shipboard duties. At the end of the day, the crews returned to barracks, had their evening meal, and tended to more personal duties. Some of the men might be allowed a few days leave to go home, while others might be granted overnight “liberty” for a brief run in Wilhelmshaven town. The piers were re-lotted from the PEG “SNM Destroyer Piers” and have been dressed-out with various buildings and props. Left to right -- HMS Iron Duke, Benbow, Monarch, Thunderer, and USS Idaho. HMS Iron Duke was named in honor of Arthur Wellesley, 1st Duke of Wellington – famously referred to as “The Iron Duke”. She joined the fleet in 1914 and became the “Fleet Flagship” of Adm. John Jellicoe in August of that year. Iron Duke was the name ship, and lead ship, of a class of four dreadnoughts – Benbow, Marlborough, and Emperor of India – which were remarkably similar in appearance to the previous King George V and Orion Classes. To her right is one of her classmates, HMS Benbow (Admiral John Benbow, 1653 – 1702). You may notice a difference between the picture shown earlier and the model in this picture. The picture shows Iron Duke with two thin funnels abaft the bridge – as she appeared during her career. The model shows Iron Duke with a single large funnel as she would have appeared after a planned 1929 modernization. In the end, treaty obligations would require her retirement in 1931, so the modernization was never carried out. Iron Duke was armed with the standard MK V, 13.5 inch, 45 caliber gun – ten of them in twin, centreline turrets – two superfiring forward, two superfiring aft, and one amidships. The aircraft catapult on the midships turret was actually installed after WW I. You can see the compact nature of the forward superstructure, in sharp contrast to earlier British battleships with complicated, sprawling deck houses. This class had an enlarged topmast structure designed to hold sighting and ranging equipment as well as gunnery control devices. Note the large optical rangefinder mounted at the rear of “A” turret. Almost every warship has an “aft control position” in the rear superstructure. Should the command center on the ship’s bridge (forward superstructure) be destroyed or become uninhabitable (fire), control can be switched to the aft position and the battle continued. On top of the aft superstructure, you will note yet another large rangefinder – this one wired into the ship’s gunnery control system. The two large rangefinders at the rear of the after turrets would be used in “local control mode” if the master system malfunctioned or became disabled. The curious structure hanging off the ship’s stern is the “Admiral’s Walk” – a quaint fixture dating to the Age of Sail. In Nelson’s day, exceptionally large three-decked ships-of-the-line (rare in number) were built with a “stern walk” (balcony) attached to the ornately carved stern. This “stern walk” went along with a spacious suite of cabins – one for sleeping and another that doubled as a “day cabin” and dinning room. These “posh” quarters were invariably inhabited by an admiral commanding a fleet, or possibly a squadron commodore. In this case, John Jellicoe, Admiral Commanding the Grand Fleet, could pace his stern walk in privacy rather than cause a commotion on the main deck. The small hatch near the gun muzzles led down to a companionway and the door to his suite. The four rectangular objects nearer the fantail are skylights opening over his cabins. Another controversial aspect of shore billeting has been argued by friend and foe, and historians alike, and the root cause of the argument comes down to one simple qualifier – size. HMS Dreadnought (above) ushered in the ”Dreadnought Era”, and mounting ten 12” guns on an 18,120 ton hull, put her top of the “A List” predators. She was a big ship, but she had to be big. Britain possessed the largest colonial empire on Earth and the Royal Navy protected colonies and guarded sea lanes in all the misbegotten corners of the world. British warships had to be big enough and strong enough to withstand Hurricanes and Typhoons. They had to pack enough firepower to meet whatever foe they might encounter, with thick armor belts to ensure survival. Their engines had to be tough and reliable to go places where dry docks did not exist and salvage tugs were scarce. And they had to carry thousands of tons of coal to operate where coaling stations were few and far between. But they also had to feed and house up to a 1,500 man crew – because “Jack Tar” lived aboard his ship. It had been that way since the days of Drake and Hawkins. It was said a man might come aboard as a cabin boy of ten or twelve years and never set foot on land again. Royal Navy captains routinely anchored far enough offshore to discourage would-be deserters from “making a swim for it”. So British warship design had to strike a delicate balance between sea-keeping, heavy guns, massive engines, thick protective armor, large coal bunkers, and room enough to berth the crew. Bigger guns meant less weight for armor. Bigger ships meant more surface area requiring armor. It was a balance rarely achieved. SMS Deutschland (above) was among the last class of pre-dreadnoughts delivered to the Kaiserliche Marine. But by the time she was commissioned (1906), Dreadnought had already made her obsolete. After a mad scramble, Adm. Tirpitz and the naval design office produced a dreadnought design to compete with the British – the Westfalen Class. Dreadnought and Westfalen were of roughly equal displacement and length. Westfalen was slightly wider in beam, but 2 knots slower, and she had two more guns, but only 11 inch. It would, a first glance, seem that Westfalen was out-classed – but she had subtle advantages that were not immediately apparent. Germany had few overseas colonial possessions, and her potential enemies were close at hand – Russia, France, and Great Britain. Consequently, she only had to deploy battle squadrons to the English Channel, North Sea, and Baltic Sea. German ships did not need to store huge amounts of coal to cover long distances, nor did they require excessive freeboard to keep the seas in the stormy Atlantic or vast Pacific. Though the crew spaces were cramped, the battlefleet was never expected to be at sea for more than a few days, so – as in decades past – the crews were housed in barracks ashore. Two simple factors – time and distance – allowed for smaller ships with lower target profiles. Painted the proper color, these ships might “disappear” into the North Sea haze. Cutting crew spaces to the bare minimum reduced the weight of steel necessary for a larger ship with better living quarters, and the savings could be put to better uses. German capital ships all tended to be a bit wider in the beam, and this made for a more stable gun platform as well as allowing for better underwater protection. Coal bunkers could be strategically placed to absorb battle damage that might otherwise cripple the ship. German ships were almost excessively sub-divided into smaller compartments, resulting in less flooding from battle damage, while shells tended to explode against outer bulkheads without reaching the heart of the ship. And the weight saved with a smaller ship could be applied to more armor plate over a wider area of the hull. So size, enabled by shore billeting and nearby combat zones, provided a considerable advantage. The Battle of Jutland, as a whole, proved that Imperial German capital ships were capable of sustaining massive amounts of damage while remaining in the fight. SMS Baden, the last battleship delivered to the Kaiserliche marine, was surrendered in January, 1919, and survived “The Great Scuttle” in June of that year. The British towed her to Invergordon and investigated the ship from top to bottom, examining armor, underwater protection, watertight bulkheads, and the speed and ease of working the main armament. Later they would use her as a gunnery target to test their shells against the German’s best armor arrangement. Their expert, Commander W.M. Phipps Hornby, pronounced...”considered as a fighting machine, Baden was markedly in advance of any comparable ship of the Royal Navy". If any further proof of superior design is needed, KM Bismarck’s armor scheme is a direct scale-up from Baden. And we all know it was nearly impossible to sink her. I cannot say it often enough -- MANY THANKS to @Barroco Hispano for his detailed, and beautifully textured warship models. 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 WEEK…...Torpedo Boats.- 2 Comments
-
- 10
-
-
-
- battleships
- docks
- (and 4 more)
-
What floats your boat? More importantly, what boats do you float? Show your armadas, fleets, squadrons etc. Timed piers, too, but please show boats.
-
CHAPTER 09 -- THE COALING COMPLEX
Dreadnought posted a City Journal entry in IMPERIAL DOCKYARDS WILHELMSHAVEN
Chapter 09: THE COALING COMPLEX By the mid-19th Century, the three-decked Ship-Of-The-Line so artfully handled by Admiral Lord Nelson, had ruled the world’s oceans for nearly 300 years with very little technological change. Had Sir Frances Drake been pipped aboard HMS Victory he would have been amazed – but would have known how to use the ship. That’s because Victory, though bigger, more heavily armed, and more modern, was little changed from the premise of Drake’s Golden Hind. The Industrial Revolution of the early 1800’s began to change all that. Science and technology had harnessed steam power to run factories, and soon thereafter, steam locomotives. It was inevitable that some “bright young feller” would figure out how to propel ships with steam engines. For centuries, empires had been won or lost for want of “a fair wind”. Steam powered ships would be able to sail in any direction, regardless of wind, and much faster. USS Demologos was the first warship to be propelled by a steam engine. Commissioned in 1815, she was hailed as quite an accomplishment, but her slow speed and unreliable engines relegated her to duty in New York Harbor as a floating battery. But it was a “beginning”. The outbreak of the Crimean War in 1854 saw a combined French and British fleet of three-decked Ships-Of-The-Line gathered off Sevastopol – accompanied by paddle-wheeled steam tugs to make them more tactically mobile. But both Britain and France had been experimenting with “steam” Ships-Of-The-Line for more than five years by then. The British, reluctant to give up their place as THE first rank naval power, began converting suitable “three-deckers” to steam-assisted warships while retaining their full sailing rig. This was a rather parsimonious attempt to keep their numerical superiority while saving the cost of new, scratch-built ships. The French, on the other hand, realized old three-deckers, fitted with steam engines, would still retain their bluff bows and bulbous underwater lines – reducing their speed. Instead, they built a new class of three-deckers designed around steam engines with underwater lines better suited to speed. Launched in 1850, Napoleon (90 guns), name ship of the class, became the first purpose-built steam battleship in the world – the first true steam battleship – and the first screw propelled battleship. Nelson’s Victory could make all of four knots with a “fair wind” in her sails. Napoleon, under sail and steam, could maintain 14 knots. From that day forward, the navies of the world were committed to “steam” – and the COAL that made it possible. The French had done away with any thought of half-measures. And with Britain and France being “colonial powers”, they relied upon their naval forces to protect and police their colonies as well as the sea lanes leading to and from them. Now, a nation’s “seapower” could only be projected as far as the supply of coal in a ship’s bunkers would allow. And the freedom of action of every Admiral or ship’s Captain was limited by the distance to his next coaling stop. So the race to secure strategically located colonies began in earnest. Any nation with the slightest pretense of being a world naval power had to establish colonies along the major sea lanes within easy steaming distance of one another. By stopping at each coaling station in turn, you could – theoretically – sail a fleet from Portsmouth, England to Shanghai, China. (Case in point; the deployment of the Russian Baltic Fleet to Chinese waters in 1905 – and the 1907 round-the-world cruise of the Great White Fleet.) And so began the love-hate relationship between battleships, their crews, and coal. This view of the High Seas Fleet steaming in column toward the horizon is, indeed, a majestic sight. The power and might of these smoke-belching behemoths is quite obvious. What is not so obvious, is the vast amount of back-breaking labor that went into producing those voluminous clouds of smoke. Deep inside the bowels of the battleship, and located adjacent to the engine rooms, are the boiler rooms. Here, a crew of “stokers” continually fed shovelfuls of coal into the roaring fireboxes beneath the boilers. In turn, the water inside the heated boilers produced steam to run the engines or turbines turning the propellers. These stokers were often referred to as “the black gang” – because their sweat-drenched bodies were covered in a thick grime of coal dust. During a battleship’s periodic “speed trails”, several teams of stokers would be kept on stand-by to relieve exhausted men, or to replace those overcome by heat prostration. The coal is stored in chambers (called bunkers) located in such manner as to make moving coal to the furnaces as easy as possible. The arrangement of these bunkers differed somewhat from ship to ship and, more significantly, from nation to nation. In the Kaiserliche Marine, coal bunkers were arranged along the sides of the warship, usually just behind the torpedo bulkhead. In addition to the thick external armor belt, and thinner torpedo bulkhead designed to absorb blast, placing tons and tons of coal inboard provided yet another layer of protection. This practice proved quite successful in allowing warships to absorb heavy battle damage and continue to fight. When “coaling ship” was ordered, “every man Jack” would turn to and get the coal aboard as quickly as possible. Even junior officers could be required to participate in this filthy, hard labor. The coal bunkers were accessed via openings in the main deck (called scuttles). Once the scuttle plate was removed, dockside cranes, or loading chutes, would deposit piles of coal onto the deck. Men with shovels then scooped the dusty black mound into the scuttles. This dirty, dust-choking, hard labor went on for hours until several thousand tons of coal was loaded (usually 3,000 to 4,000 tons). In the picture below, the USS New Hampshire is taking on coal from a barge tied alongside. Obviously, the Brooklyn Navy Yard in 1909 did not have any sophisticated hoppers or loading towers, so the crewmen are doing it by hand. They have rigged temporary derricks to hoist canvas sacks of coal to the ship’s deck where it will be dumped, and then shoveled into the round scuttle clearly visible in the deck. In the next picture, a ship is taking on coal at Port Said in the Suez Canal Zone (circa 1920’s). Again, the coal barges are tied alongside the vessel – but the men are carrying the coal aboard. Coaling in “far distant” ports could be quite primitive. The Coaling Complex for the Imperial Dockyard: Wilhelmshaven is “state of the art” and was based on a massive US Navy coaling station in Pensacola, Florida just after the turn of the last century. I managed to find a usable picture of a slightly improved version built in Pearl Harbor, Hawaii (circa 1919). As you can see, the loading docks were built out into the water on tall trestle bridges, allowing deeper draft vessels easy access. Loaded rail cars were shuttled under the “hopper towers” where bucket conveyors raised coal to the top of the hopper. Loading chutes would then be lowered near to the ship’s deck – and the process would begin. Rail cars continued to shuttle beneath the hoppers as needed. The oval track arrangement saves enormous amounts of space, while allowing a loaded coal train to gradually climb to the level of the loading hoppers. Other track spurs provide for temporary “parking” of loaded cars, storage of coal at the rear, and switches to return empty cars to the main complex. It went without saying that it would be impossible to find a skilled “Batter” interested in such a mammoth and complicated project. Even in modules, this would require a great deal of planning and technical skill, with many opportunities for failure. Consequently, I fell back on my skills at finding existing SC4 lots and props that could be re-purposed and pieced together to build a reasonable facsimile. I already knew I would not be able to recreate the structure, but the “oval” rail concept was crucial in saving space within the dockyard. My secondary goal was to show the COMPLETE process of providing coal to ships – from start to finish. In this single complex, you can see how coal is delivered to the coaling station, unloaded, handled for processing, stored, and then distributed to warships – the whole product path. I was determined NOT to plop a pile of coal next to a ship and say...”Yeah – that’s where they get coal.” Here are four shots showing the progressive stages of construction. And this is a closer view of the overall complex. Looking north from the Munitions Complex, across the wide channel leading to the Coaling Basin, it is easy to pick out the peninsula occupied by the crowded sprawl of the Coaling Complex. The largest integrated facility in the dockyard, the Coaling Station was placed at the far end of the harbor to keep the heavy “coaling traffic” from interfering with other facilities. It also helped that the prevailing wind would blow the clouds of soot and dust away from the rest of the dockyard. The “Complex” is almost a world of its’ own. Warships coming and going, coaling docks, cranes and derricks, warehouses, huge mounds of black coal, processing plants, receiving lots, receiving docks, and a swarm of puffing steam locomotives moving tons and tons of coal. Beyond that dusty, smoking jumble of activity you can just make out a railyard dedicated to handling and repairing the fleet of engines and hundreds of pieces of rolling stock required to service the complex. But down in the Coaling Basin Channel, movement catches our eye…… SMS Viribus Unitas is under tow. Two steam tugs astern of the battleship are passing hawsers to act as “brakes”. A third steam tug stands by to assist. And the larger steam tug Goliath has already paid out her tow line in readiness to move. Goliath was brought in to provide a little extra “muscle”, since moving the battleship through the tight quarters from the far end of the basin might require some brute force “finesse”. Viribus Unitas was the name ship of a class of four Austro-Hungarian dreadnoughts. With the collapse of the Empire in 1918, she was handed over to the provisional Yugoslavian Government in October of that year. On the night of November 10th, Italians managed to get into the harbor of Pola and sink her with an explosive charge. Goliath is a bit larger than the “harbor tug” pictured off her port quarter. (Beautifully detailed and textured model provided by @Barroco Hispano.) Originally used as a sea-going salvage tug, she is from a large class built around 1907 and well able to withstand heavy seas the harbor tugs cannot. Due to advancing age, she and her sisters have been replaced by a bigger, and more powerful class of “Fleet Salvage Tugs”. But still sound and seaworthy, the “Goliaths” have been assigned to deal with a new menace to naval warfare – floating mines. Note the two “greenish”, fish-shaped objects stowed on her aft deck – those are “paravanes”. "Harbor Tug" courtesy of @WolfZe. This model is an accurate and highly detailed example of the hundreds of obscure seagoing tugs and salvage boats that worked the far and forgotten corners of the World’s seas. Their arrival amid fifty foot waves and howling winds could mean the difference between life and death and the safety of much larger ships in danger of foundering. The aging, weathered decks and the “classic” ochre and black paint scheme make this model come alive. Tucked into the corner of the Coaling Basin are the Minesweeper Docks. Goliath is the “flotilla leader” and, during time of war, they are charged with keeping the sea lanes in and out of the Jade Bight free of enemy minefields. When “sweeping” a field of mines, the tugs would usually deploy in “echelon” in an overlapping, inverted “V” formation. Those paravanes on the aft deck would be deployed and streamed on both sides of the tug. The paravanes stretched wire tow cables outboard from the ship – much like a modern sonar device. The cables snagged the anchor lines of floating, submerged mines, the paravane teeth severed them, and they came to the surface where they were destroyed by small arms fire. Needless to say, minesweeper crews received “hazard pay”. Just above the Minesweeper Station, along the west side of the Coaling Basin, are two “Offshore Mooring Points”. These are semi-permanent berthing arrangements built from thick pilings driven into the harbor bottom and capped with steel and concrete landing platforms. They are decked over and provided with night lighting to allow “anchor details” easy handling of large mooring hawsers. I believe these are unique to Pearl Harbor and can still be seen by thousands of tourists visiting the USS Arizona Memorial. MANY THANKS to @mattb325 for cheerfully fulfilling my request and releasing them to the community as “Offshore Mooring Pontoons”. The USS New York was completed in 1914 and, much like her predecessors – at 27,000 tons – tended toward the wide beam common to most US battleships. A jump to the heavier 14 inch / 45 cal gun was made, but her designers continued to experiment with the placement of the main battery turrets. It was finally decided to use a five turret, twin gun arrangement modified from the earlier Florida Class. After failed negotiations with the builder, the US Navy chose to revert to triple expansion reciprocating engines producing a speed of 21 knots. She served in both World Wars and was expended as a target in 1948. USS Texas, sister to New York, was completed as an identical twin and her service career was much the same as well. You see the ship in her 1932 configuration after a complete modernization. During WW II, Texas was part of the Bombardment Group off Omaha Beach during the D-Day Landings in Normandy. Her ten 14 inch rifles provided quick and accurate gunfire support and was much appreciated by the assault troops moving inland. German Panzers poised to counterattack the American beachhead were quickly demoralized and scattered when two-gun salvos of the huge shells began to arrive at 5 second intervals. In 1948 the State of Texas took great pride in accepting her from the US Navy for preservation as a museum ship. She still lies in a berth dredged out of the Mexican War Battlefield Memorial at San Jacinto, near Houston. At 106 years of age, Texas may well be the oldest – and possibly the only – surviving example of the “true” dreadnought battleship. Next time…...The Coaling Docks. As always --- MANY, MANY, MANY THANKS to @Barroco Hispano for his intricately detailed, and beautifully textured warship models. As a "semi-professional" naval historian, I take a great deal of pleasure in simply gazing at these beautiful models of the ships I have avidly studied for six decades. I have NEVER found any form of illustration to be as informative or pleasing as these models. 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 !- 11 Comments
-
- 20
-
-
- battleships
- harbors
- (and 4 more)
-
CHAPTER 08 -- THE MUNITIONS PIERS
Dreadnought posted a City Journal entry in IMPERIAL DOCKYARDS WILHELMSHAVEN
Chapter 09: THE MUNITIONS PIERS We have toured the receiving and support facilities of the “Munitions Complex” and examined the storage area of the “Bunker Complex”, but those are, more or less, ancillary systems. The actual delivery of shells and powder to the warships is the paramount function of any munitions replenishment facility. The battleships of the “Dreadnought Era”, though immense in size and incredibly complex in their mechanics, were nothing more than mobile, seaborne, gun platforms. They were designed to deliver their massive artillery into battle – and survive. The ship’s crew, the hull, armor, and engines would position the all-important guns where they could do the most damage. That was their entire purpose for existing. HMS Barham (1915) of the Queen Elizabeth Class of fast battleships, mounting eight 15 inch guns in four twin turrets. Dreadnoughts carried anywhere between eight and fourteen main battery guns, mounted in as few as three, and as many as seven armored turrets. The guns ranged, mostly, from 11 inch (28cm) to 16 inch (40cm), and the shells fired by these massive rifles (on average) could weight anywhere from 675 pounds to 2,200 pounds. The sheer weight of the projectiles, combined with the threat of their “bursting charge”, made handling and loading them “risky business”. HMS Agincourt (1914) mounting fourteen 12 inch guns in seven twin turrets. Standards differed widely among the various navies of the world, but ammunition stowage aboard a battleship was a critical element in the success or failure of any given class of warship. The more big guns mounted on a hull – the greater the ammunition that would have to be stored in heavily armored magazines deep in the bowels of the ship. It is worth noting that “magazines” were divided into “Shell Rooms” and “Powder Magazines” due to the different handling characteristics. Powder charges were a much more hazardous proposition. Some battleship “Shell Rooms” stored 100 rounds per gun tube, while others carried up to 150 rounds. A bit of quick math means an eight-gun warship could stow between 800 and 1,000 rounds, while a fourteen-gun battleship would be packing between 1,400 and 2,100 shells. Using an average of 250 pounds of powder as a “firing charge” for each and every shell – that meant an eight-gun ship stowed 200,000 pounds of Cordite, while a fourteen-gun battleship required 525,000 pounds. Needless to say, one careless act – resulting in a single spark – could have catastrophic results. Interior of a German 11 inch gun turret in action -- right half. After throwing all those numbers around, I should explain that at a firing rate of two rounds per gun, per minute – one hour of continuous firing would exhaust, or seriously deplete a ship’s magazines. Note the shell in the foreground, about to be rammed into the gun tube, and the cased powder charges in front of the sailor to the right. SMS Konig engaging the enemy at Jutland, 1916. The munitions loading piers in the “Imperial Dockyard Wilhelmshaven” are inspired by a set of streamlined and efficient piers at the US Navy Munitions Station on Luna Point in California. That installation uses a rail line on gracefully curved trestle piers extending out into the water. Since the game pieces are incapable of reproducing those willowy curves, and the in-game trestle bridges have their own drawbacks, I opted for building causeways out to the loading pier platforms. The object, once again, was to provide safety through a degree of separation between the installations ashore and the actual handling piers offshore. An explosion while unloading the rail cars would be devastating. The loading platforms at the end of the causeways would be swept clean of people and structures and could result in heavy damage to the warships, themselves. An accident occurring during the loading of shells and powder into the ship’s magazines would be unimaginable. History is replete with horrific examples of exploding magazines. The causeways were made using the NBVC Marina Set. You may recognize the loading piers from my previous entry; “The Long Quay”. These are the same piers – and were originally re-purposed specifically for use as the munitions piers. I later decided to use them as the “long quay” as well. These are PEG “SNM” Destroyer Piers (two of them) re-lotted end to end and positioned to provide a pier 16 tiles long with ONLY an 8x1 “plop” footprint. Again – do as much as you can with what is available in the game. This is a closer shot of the bottom end of the line of piers. There is a wide variety of work in progress – tugs docking battleships, trains coming and going, cranes unloading ordnance, and sailors all over the place. Note the ordnance train arriving from the upper left corner. This worked out well with the lighting duplicating the “pool effect” common to the pitch blackness out on the water. The USS Michigan is being nudged into her berth to begin taking on ammunition. The large cranes on the pier will hoist the big shells and crates of powder charges aboard once the railroad crane has unloaded them from the waiting boxcars. The USS Wyoming is taking on her first consignment of shells. Wyoming is one of two dreadnoughts in the US Navy mounting six twin turrets – the most ever carried by a US warship. It is easily seen that the extra turrets in this design contributed to her wide-beamed appearance with very short bow and fantail tapering. Here, USS Mississippi is being eased into the pier by three steam tugs. (Tugs courtesy of @WolfZe) She is one of the New Mexico Class and was often referred to in the US Navy as a “standard battleship”. This nomenclature springs from the fact that a number of classes were designed and built during and after WW I that were remarkably similar in appearance and performance characteristics. Note that she is equipped with a graceful “clipper bow” rather than the straight stem of earlier dreadnoughts. SMS Baden has “made fast” to the pier and her Captain grows impatient waiting for his ordnance train. Baden was sister ship to SMS Bayern – the last dreadnoughts delivered to the Kaiserliche Marine prior to the 1918 Armistice. Note the fine railroad crane (SM2), also waiting the train. Shells are already being lowered to the deck of RM Kronprinz – Konig Class - 1932. This ship (explained in a previous chapter) is derived from a “design study” conducted by the Riech’s Marine of the Wiemar Republic. Note the strong resemblance to the original “Konig Class” of 1914. Last, but not least – SMS Fiederich Carl has made secure at her berth, and Kapitan Zur See Wolfgang Hoepner is furious that his ordnance train has been delayed. He is senior to the commander of Kronprinz and should not be made to wait. Friederich Carl is another warship derived from a “design study” (explained in previous chapter), this one conducted in 1940-1941 by the Kriegsmarine. Here are several views (day and night) from other angles that will help bring out the details. Finally, we have the USS South Carolina, name ship of the class, under a “short tow” as she pulls away from the munitions piers. She was put on a “short” hawser in order to move her out of the tight confines of the munitions loading area. Two steam tugs are hauling her forward, while two more aft will act as a brake. The port side tug is still paying out hawser and will drop back shortly. With only about 10 feet of water under her keel, the battleship is slow to gain momentum, slows down easily if not under tow, and answers her helm only with great difficulty. In a shallow harbor, tugs are a necessity. South Carolina was the first dreadnought battleship in the US Navy. If Congress had not delayed the 1905 Naval Appropriations Bill, she might have been the first in the world. But Britain laid down the keel of HMS Dreadnought and launched her in less than a year – two months ahead of South Carolina’s keel laying ceremony. But South Carolina was an attractive ship in her own right. All her main battery guns were on the centreline with superfiring turrets fore and aft. Her upper decks were clear of clutter and free of unnecessary structures – and even her bridge was positively spartan. The lattice-work cage masts and tall, capped funnels gave here a unique silhouette. Compact, with a 12 inch gun punch, she was a good beginning. As always, I cannot adequately express my thanks to @Barroco Hispano for making his warship models available to me. These are a wondrous piece of skill and craft – each one finely detailed, realistically colored, and textured with the genius of an “Old Master”. Even if you don’t read the text, you have surely gotten your money’s worth looking at his “works of art”. MANY THANKS! If you enjoyed anything you saw – please punch the “like” button so I will know. A comment would be even more informative. And please feel free to "Follow" this thread if you find it of interest. Comments and critiques requested and gratefully accepted. All questions answered promptly to the best of my ability. THANK YOU for your visit ! Next time…...The Coaling Complex.- 4 Comments
-
- 9
-
-
- battleship
- harbors
- (and 4 more)
-
My problem is with "Marrast Underwater Cable Kit 1": https://community.simtropolis.com/files/file/16789-marrast-underwater-cable-kit/ Basically, it's supposed to be underwater aka invisible and obviously NOT obstructive to any naval units. I have never had problems with this before, where as I have had this mod for over a year. It decided to literally randomly happen out of the blue a few hours ago (in terms of posting this topic of course). It simply gets the (I think) infamous beach bug. Not sure if that's the right term, but as you will see in the pictures, the mod literally "eats" the water textures that are above each piece of it. Now you may think "Just a visual bug", nope, check out the third picture link. If I exit the game completely and reboot it, it's all good, but then It happens again when I choose "Power" in the "Data Views" tab, which one can obviously not simply avoid checking. Other ships and boats crash into it and sink aka vanish as well. Haven't noticed anything with ferries yet, but i'm 100% convinced that they are affected as well. Anyways, here are the links to the three pics, in order: #1: s29.postimg.cc/6u7knm40n/image.png #2: i.imgur.com/sqrqFBH.jpg #3: s29.postimg.cc/wohdde40n/image.png Reinstalling the mod didn't help, I can't find any comments on the mod's page that have the same problem and a fix as a reply, there is no update I am aware of, changing graphic settings or rendering modes doesn't effect it either. The funny thing is, I had these cables in my city for a while (at least 15 years+ game time, I play on turtle speed) and it only just now starting acting up. Destroying the cables and rebuilding them didn't work either *mumble*... Heck even destroying them, saving and rebooting the game, and THEN rebuilding them didn't help. Now you understand my topic title? It seriously confuses me. Haven't found any solutions google or ST-wise yet, and thus I rely on you smart people to possibly help? I use this mod because as seemingly quite a few people, I find dragging power line poles across the water very unattractive and really only want to use them on land.
-
-
-
- 3
-
-
- weekly chllenge
- base
- (and 1 more)
-
-
Version 1.0
6,391 Downloads
Naval Base BAT and LOT Pack Ever wanted to create a cool naval yard to go along woth all the Ship BAT's on the STEX, well now you can. This Pack contains a collection of 7 Lots and 4 BATs to create a modular Naval Base. All Lots can be found in the Seaport Menu. Requires Buildings as Props Update from www.SimCity.com to Function and the RCI Prop Mod
