Operation Ivy

IVY MIKE BOMB

US Navy operations in the Marshall Islands in late1952 changed history when crew and scientists aboard the USS Estes detonated the first hydrogen bomb. At that time the word thermonuclear became part of our vocabulary.

In mid September news sources reported that the US Air Force came very close accidently detonating a hydrogen bomb over North Carolina almost a decade after the initial tests off Eniwetok Atoll.

News sources reported that on January 24, 1961 an US Air Force B-52 broke up in mid-air over Goldsboro dumping two thermonuclear bombs. The British Guardian said that only a single switch prevented the bomb from detonating after three other safety measures designed to stop unintended detonation failed.  That single switch saved the Eastern seaboard from a nuclear catastrophe. 

USS ESTES

This story hit a personal note. My father, James W. Sparks Sr. was aboard the Navy ship USS Estes AGC-12 when the first hydrogen bomb, “Mike,”  was detonated on Eluglab Island  during  Operation Ivy.

  

Sparks, ME-2, who served in the US Navy, from 1951 through 1954, remembers both Operation Ivy and, the later, Operation Castle bomb tests.   “We were at attention on the deck like rows of corn with our backs towards the explosion when we felt the heat from the blast.  Our ships were about 35 miles from ground zero.  We couldn’t look at the blast, as it would have blinded us,” he said about Ivy.

Sparks added that scientists met with the sailors prior to the test explaining that they didn’t know what the effects blast would be as this was the first time for this type of explosion.  Sparks said that he was on the radiological defense team and used Geiger counters to check for radiation following the tests.

After a tour in warring Korea, the Estes received a refit before heading to the Western Pacific.  Operation Ivy was under the command of Rear Admiral C. W. Wilkins, USN, Commander Task Group 132.2 .   Joining in the maneuver were the Army, Air Force, scientists, journalists and even an actor.

Reed Hadley, of television’s “Racket Squad” narrated a documentary film produced by the US Air Force.  The film, “Operation Ivy,” chronicled events leading to the entry of the US into thermonuclear age in early November 1952 with the detonation of “Mike.” The experimental hydrogen device yielded over 10 megatons of force and vaporized Elugelab Island at Eniwetok Atoll.  All that remained was water and a 164-foot deep crater.

Operation Ivy discharged the two largest bombs up to that time.  Ivy’s testing ushered in the thermonuclear age with the highest pure fission bomb ever exploded.  “Mike” was a 65-ton stationary device not practical for use as weaponry. According to the nuclear weapons archive, “Mike’s” mushroom cloud climbed to 108,000 feet. Thirty minutes after the explosion it stretched 60 miles across with the base joining the stem at 45,000 feet.   The mostly fission powered bomb showered a high level of radiation over the atoll.  A regular fission bomb was used to create the conditions used to initiate “Mike’s” fusion reaction.  Sparks said that they used the atomic bomb to set off the hydrogen one.

Sparks and his fellow sailors aboard the Estes became part of history that day.  The destructive force from the “Mike” bomb was 260 times more powerful than the atomic bomb that flattened Hiroshima in 1945. Sparks said that they later learned that some of the fishermen indigenous to the area suffered from the fallout from the bomb testing in the area.

Operation Ivy’s second thermonuclear bomb was dubbed “King.”  A B-36 bomber dropped the 500- kiloton bomb over Runit Island on November 15, 1952 (GMT).  Unlike “Mike”, “King” was a deliverable bomb that could be used as a cold war weapon.  The resulting cloud reached 74,000 feet with the mushroom base at 40,000 feet.

Following Operation Ivy, the Estes was assigned to resupply government distant early warning radar installations, the “DEW Line” in the far north, under  “Operation Blue Nose.”  At anchor off Point Barrow, Alaska, the ship became entrapped in ice after a wind shift pushed pack ice inshore.  The ship was immobilized for 24 hours before she shook her icy cage.

In early 1954, the USS Estes again headed towards the Marshall Islands for a second series of thermonuclear bomb tests known as “Operation Castle.”  Castle tested a series of high yield devices designed to be delivered as weapons. According to the nuclear weapons archive, the three largest tests ever carried out by the United States were part of Operation Castle. 

An error on one test caused a bomb to be dropped in the wrong target area, according to Sparks.  He remembers that the blast was so strong that it blew out the fire engine room.  Sailors on deck were knocked over unconscious.  Sparks came to watching caps floating down along with hats of the Chiefs.  Calls rang out for the ship to prepare to get underway immediately.  He remembers being on his knees looking towards shock wave flattening out the water.  He said that the bomb was two miles off target.  It was a moment that Sparks thought would be one of his last.

A year later Russia tested its first thermonuclear device and the cold war took a menacing turn. 

It wasn’t the first time the Marshall Islands were used for testing bombs.  Atomic testing transpired in the area during the late 1940s.  Testing continued for another decade leaving some of the islands contaminated with radioactive fallout to this day.

In 1961 a heartbeat moment passed when the final safety switch prevented a thermonuclear device from detonating in North Carolina.  History as we know it might be very different had that switch failed. 

As Imagine and crew prepare for a fifth season on a road not paved, I say a silent prayer of thanksgiving for switches that work.

Wooly Bear, What Wll WInter Wear?

School buses are running again.  Football, soccer and field hockey practices are in full swing. Fall decorations have made way into stores and roadside stands.

While the clock ticks down towards fall, fearless wooly bear caterpillars stop their munching and inch across highways as vehicles blow by.  Some of the critters will actually make it across roadways to find a spot to hide under debris, rocks or bark where they will wait out the winter. 

Some say that the nearly two inch bristly reddish brown and black striped caterpillar can predict how much cold and ice will come with the winter winds.  The banded wooly worm, as it is sometimes called, hatches from eggs laid by the Isabella Tiger Moth.  The yellowish adult moth lays a few dozen small white pearly looking eggs on old posts or trees in late spring and summer.  After hatching the small hairless larvae busily munch on nettle, dandelion, clover, sorrel and other common weeds.  As the larvae mature, the wooly bear grows and distinct hairy bands develop.

It’s the amount and the color of the hairy black and reddish brown bands that are said to predict whether winter will prove mild or not.   There is no definitive scientific evidence that guarantees the accuracy of predicting weather with wooly bears. The theory behind this weather prediction phenomenon goes something like this.  If the black stripes on either end of the critter are longer than the middle reddish stripe winter will be long and cold.  A wide center reddish or brown band indicates that winter will be mild.

So… based on a small sample of woolly bears that have come across my path recently I will take a stab at forecasting a winter weather outlook.   Some had wide black bands and some had wide reddish brown bands.  In fact they all looked different.   So which ones are right?  I’m going to go out on a limb and say that winter will be mild… or not.

 

My guess is that the woolly bear caterpillar is probably as accurate as predicting winter as Punxsutawney Phil is at predicting how many weeks of winter are left on Groundhog Day. 

The Farmer’s Almanac reports that some people take to reading the wooly bear to extremes.  Apparently there are 13 segments on a typical banded wooly bear.  Some believe that each band represents a week of winter.  Orange and brown segments are said to predict the mild weeks, and the black ones forecast bad weather weeks.

The almanac also reports that some weather sleuths look at the thickness of the wooly bear hair.  Thick fuzzy worms indicate a cold, snowy winter and a not so hairy worm means a milder one.  If you think that confuses the issue there are others who look at the direction the wooly bear is traveling for weather forecasting.   If the caterpillar heads north, it will prove to be a mild winter.  A crawl towards south and it is time to break out the shovels and rock salt.

The modern folklore of predicting wintry weather by following the wooly bear began in 1948 with Dr. C.H. Curran, curator of insects at the American Museum of Natural History in New York City after he drove to Bear Mountain State Park to look at the woolly bears.   Curran collected as many caterpillars as he could in a day.  He determined the number of reddish brown segments and hazarded a forecast with a reporter friend at the New York Herald Tribune.  Curran’s experimentation continued for the next eight years as he worked to prove scientifically the folklore weather rule that had been passed on through generations around Bear Mountain.  

When wooly bears begin to seek out hiding spaces for the winter, it is certain that fall is right around the corner and winter will follow.   The wooly bear doesn’t care. Burrowed down in a hidden spot, its body secretes a substance to help it survive the winter freeze.  When warm weather arrives the caterpillar begins a munching frenzy before spinning and encasing itself in a chrysalis.  A short time later a dull yellow and furry tiger moth with small black spots emerges.  After a brief period of mating and laying eggs the moth’s lifecycle will end. 

The transition from summer to fall comes with fanfare in rural South Jersey.  There are many events that celebrate both communities and the season.   The Woodstown Fall Festival is held the last Saturday in September throughout the town’s historic shopping district.  Along the streets scarecrows take shape as local businesses and individuals compete in a challenge to come up with the best display. Vendors, food, music and history make this a family friendly event.

Meals on Wheels Giant Pumpkin Carve draws thousands of visitors from the tri-state area each year as professional and amateur artists come together, turning giant pumpkins into spooky works of art.   On September 28, music, hayrides, food, and spooky fun celebrate the farming heritage, the cultural and artistic heritage of Salem County while raising important funds for a crucial service to elderly residents.

The following week, October 5, fall festivities continue with Elmer Harvest Day.   Roadside stands begin to break out the cider and crisp apples.  It’s a great time to get out and take a walk, work in the yard or take the grandchildren to pick out a pumpkin.  Fall is refreshing season, one to enjoy.  Winter will be here way too soon… so predicts the wooly bear.

There are Gators in Those Hills

Mike, Nala and Gator

Who would ever dream that gators lurk in the rolling foothills of Pennsylvania? You can find them wedged in between the Allegheny Mountains on the western horizon and the Appalachian Mountains in the East.   And, who would have thought that a tiki bar could be found in that same geographic area far from any beach, lake or tropical destination? Believe me, both gators and tiki bars can be found in the rural Perkiomen Valley. You can find them wedged in between the Allegheny Mountains on the western horizon and the Appalachian Mountains in the East.   And, who would have thought that a tiki bar could be found in that same geographic area far from any beach, lake or tropical destination? Believe me, both gators and tiki bars can be found in the rural Perkiomen Valley.

The same arthroscopic surgery that slowed Imagine’s refit progress gave me bonus time to visit my daughter Suzanne and husband Mike.  They recently purchased a 10-acre horse farm in Upper Frederick Township, Montgomery County.

The farm came with seven barn cats led by “Howard” a debonair black and white tuxedo cat who insists on jumping into cars just because he can.  The former owner of the farm, a veterinarian, made sure that all the cats were neutered and spayed. 

With an army of cats brushing against my legs as I hobbled towards the bam, I spotted the first gator of the weekend. It was a big green one with an open roof and cargo area.  It’s used for feeding the horses and getting around on the farm.  The John Deere utility vehicle is used with a drag to smooth the riding arena and pull weeds from the stone pathways that crisscross the farm.  I rode while Suzanne hauled gardening supplies and cruised around the property.  Each time the gator begins humming the horses begin to flick their tails make way to their paddocks where they look for some attention.  How can you not stop, get out, and pet all five of the horses.  That green gator is one supercharged vehicle.  Capable of going 35 mph, the green machine allowed me to explore the entire farm without having to hobble very far.

Assorted chickens have free run on the farm and seem to love to play dodge the gator.  The hens love to roll in the dust behind the front porch and peck at bugs in the manure pile.  A peacock from a nearby farm screams each morning making up for the missing wake up crow of a rooster.   The previous rooster became chicken potpie when it drew blood and began chasing children. 

Speaking of chicken, I would soon learn that gator tastes like chicken.  Not the green gator that works on the farm, but the scaly one that can be found in the swamps and backyards of Florida and the bayous of Louisiana.  Along with sister-in-laws Nancy and Gwyneth, who visited Suzanne on their way to a birthday party near Wilkes Barre, we decided to go to a well-known tiki bar for dinner.   I was skeptical of a tiki bar located at a small ski resort.  There were no palm trees or turquoise water, but there were alligator kabobs.  What Suzanne failed to tell us is that patrons have to cook their own dinner, or that we would be leaning in our chairs on the side of a hill with a ski lift as a backdrop. 

The bar waiter took our order for tropical drinks and explained that we could proceed to the deli-esque counter to order and pay for our food.   From there patrons move to the grilling pit to cook and season food with a myriad of spices.  Along with various kabobs and cuts of meat, fish, or chicken comes a pre-baked potato and a garden salad.  The waiter recommended the alligator kabobs.  Nancy, a one-time resident of Louisiana, pipes up, “Tastes like chicken.”   The counter staff also pushed the alligator kabobs with, “You’ll love it. It tastes just like chicken.”

Since I had no idea how to grill gator, or how well done it needed to be cooked, I elected to choose a shrimp kabob.  At the communal grill pit, a dozen or so patrons flipped steaks and turned kabobs.  They opened the foil of pre-baked potatoes adding cheese, chives and other condiments before reheating the spud over the grill.  While there were a lot of gator kabobs in the counter, I didn’t spot any on the grill.   I’m guessing that gator meat must be more of a novelty than a popular delicacy this far north.

While the joint didn’t quite fit my definition for a tiki bar, it was a great business concept.   Overhead must be low… no waitresses or cooks to pay.   Putting together kabobs and placing some meat entrees into a display case doesn’t take talent.  Bar waiters take drink orders and can cover triple the customers.   A bartender or two make the drinks.  Patrons pay for all food in advance for the experience of grilling it themselves.  They also eat outside sitting on inexpensive plastic furniture leaning into a slope.  No floors to maintain.  It’s a good way to bring revenue to a ski resort in the off-season.

It was a cool brisk weekend in the foothills.  I watched as Suzanne put mulch around newly planted mums.  Fall is right around the corner.  As I sat in the green gator with the wind brushing my hair, one of the farm chickens chased behind.  Hmmm, I wonder if the other gator really does taste like chicken?  Maybe next time I’ll give it a try.

Summer's Balancing Act

       This summer I hate boating!  In reality it’s not the boating I loathe, but the work involved repairing, upgrading and preparing for one more year sailing off into the sunset.  In our experience sailing off into the sunset should be rephrased to sailing into the sunrise, as the crew of Imagine is usually up before dawn ready to sail as soon as we can see the anchor in the predawn murkiness.  But that won’t be happening for another month or more. 

Working on head

A detour with a torn meniscus followed by arthroscopic surgery has slowed the summer’s refit progress.  Days of rain, and days of rain, and more days of rain have slowed it even more. As work commences I reminisce selling our perfectly good and much newer 36-foot boat No Bad Days for Imagine back in 2004.  That decision eventually led to a massive refit that lasted nearly three years as we tore up and put down new decks, bow and cabin top on our leaky teaky. 

At the time I didn’t want to spend the nearly $75,000 estimate to have professionals fix the boat. Neither did my husband Ed, Mr. Frugal.  Both the price and principle drove us into a false sense of “it would be a piece of cake.”  NOT!  Perseverance, a few cuss words, and many hours later we began to see a light at the end of the tunnel.  During the long process family and friends dubbed the boat as the USS Neversail and Mr. Frugal became Captain Go Nowhere.  We did however save $69,000.

On the last day of October in 2009, Imagine sailed away.  Skies were heavy with gray, spitting intermittent rain that followed us down the Chesapeake Bay for the next three days.  It didn’t dampen our spirits as we began our travels on a road not paved.  It would be a wet one marked with buoys, day makers, waypoints and lighthouses.  This fall we begin our fifth year spending our time upon the water.

Living on a boat takes its toll.  Maintenance is ongoing.  Some things can be put off for a while, while others such as a new bilge pump can mean life or death if a boat begins taking on water.   We replaced the main bilge that failed this spring as well as a shower bilge that failed a year ago.   The shower drain was bypassed into our main bilge that seemed to work until the odor began.   A bilge pump does not remove a hundred percent of standing water. Some shower water lingered and created a stench of rotten meat.  Dead skin cells mixed with soap scum and salty water can get pungent overnight.  That won’t be a problem anymore!  

The head now has a new floor with ceramic tile, a new stand for the head, a rebuilt head, new head hoses, a re-glassed holding tank, plus a newly painted head and shower.  Both the previous head stand and floor was deteriorating. The old head hoses were cemented with mineral deposits that adhered to the inside of the hose over the years leaving less than a half inch of partly occluded space for waste to pass. 

The overhead has yet to be taken down so that the cabin top deck hardware can be re-bedded.  The porthole frames are in the process of being removed and re-bedded as well as the outer deck hardware.  And of course the bright work will need more varnish.  Ed has been working on the shaft and will be replacing a loose cutlass bearing. 

Boat Blisters

The biggest challenge, and most disheartening, which makes me hate boating are the blisters above the waterline on the hull.  Nearly 400 of the little blisters had to be opened sanded, filled and sealed.   I call them age spots.   These little blisters are common on classic plastic boats like Imagine.  Usually they appear on the bottom due to osmosis in places where miniscule air pockets formed between the laminate and gel coating during the boat building process.  Working on scaffolding and ladders with full-face respirators and protective white jumpsuits make for uncomfortable summer work. 

After much sanding, fairing and taping, two coats of primer went on rather easily.  Sanding between coats did not.  Did I say I hate sanding? Unfortunately the priming highlighted several areas where shallow bumps appear.  The fairing wasn’t perfect. In the interest of sailing again this millennium, we decided to move on with the imperfections.   Did I mention that with marine paint you should only work between 9 and 4 a.m. on days when humidity is 85 percent or under?  Also make sure there is no rain forecast for several hours after painting.

In the midst of all I feel like a rope in a unending game of tug of war being pulled from all directions.  I want to spend time with grandchildren, friends and family.  I have to take care of myself as well as work on the boat.  I love sailing and the carefree live we lead upon the water, the work to maintain that lifestyle, not so much.   Taking time for myself and getting non boat stuff done has helped get me through a summer of feeling angry that we have this level of boat work to do.

I’ll feel great when it is done.  The money saved by doing the work ourselves will pay for at least another year of cruising.  It’s about sacrifice and balance.  Year five looms and decisions will be made as to whether it will be our final year or a jump off time to go back into a land based world of work and status quo.  Here’s to decisions, balance and sunny days.