United States Coast Guard Cutter Campbell

Submitted by Terence Finn

A Really Messy Sea Story

The CDC Campbell, a 327 foot high endurance Cutter that had been commissioned in 1936 and saw battle in the Atlantic during world war II, was on patrol in the Bering sea back in November of 1981.  Though a good ship, it was nearing the end of its career.  Many of its systems were outdated and man-hour-intensive, an example of which was the sewage system that is the centerpiece of this story.

Terry Finn and I were both days old third class damage control men aboard the Campbell, an eager to show or worthiness to be petty officers. Two weeks into a patrol, the old ship gave us our chance.

            The problem started with the commodes in the crew’s forward head backing up. Shortly, the chief’s head backed up followed by the officers’. Our chief told us to find and fix the problem “ASAP”. We found the problem quick enough --- a clogged in the main sewage pipe to the holding tank.  The trouble was that clogged section was located in the ship’s dry stores where bulk food was kept. So we could not (break) the pipe to remove the clog.

            Putting our heads together, we came up with a brilliant plan of pressurizing the system and forcing the blockage out. After closing at valves to all the various trains and tanks, except for the overboard discharge, we were ready to go. Powering up the ship’s emergency fire pump, and tapping into the sewage lines we confidently sent 350 pounds of seawater per square inch against the clog. The sea water won and the clog cleared. Terry then went top side to see if the overboard discharge was expelling clear water. He came back a few minutes later were in a look of perplexity. I asked him if it was clear, and he said, “Clear? There’s nothing coming out at all.”

            A cold dread filled me as we scrambled to shut the pump down and search where 2,000 and some odd gallons of seawater and sewage were deposited on the Campbell. The captain’s cook provided us with the answer. Up to the captain’s cabin we flew. Terry got there ahead of me and stood staring open mouthed at the door to the captain’s head and made some reference to waste by-products being holy. Due to residual pressure in the sewage lines from the fire pump, a small geyser of water and debris continued to gush out of the toilet bowl in the captain’s head, adding to the 18 inches of standing sewage coving the deck.

            At the completion of Terry’s expletive, a pair of eyes owned by our commanding officer appeared over the door to the shower stall. “You isn't kidding.” was all he said.

            While Terry and I scrambled to open the deck drains, the captain opened the shower door, and swung from the pipes overhead out into the main cabin with only a towel around his waist. When he landed, he favored his backside and limped a bit. Terry asked the skipper if he was alright and had he been in the shower when this happened. Turning to us the captain murmured, “I’ll never have to worry about hemorrhoids again.”

DC1 James Henley, Gru Detroit

Reprint from the Commandants Bulletin · September 1994