USS Prime (MSO-466)

South China Sea

Typhoon Pamela 25 Dec. 1966 to 1 Jan. 1967

Written by (then) Ens. Herb D’Arcy

T’was the night before Christmas, 24 DEC 66,  and Prime had just been relieved after forty three days on Market Time patrol duty by a coastal minesweeper from Sasebo, Japan in the vicinity of Phan Thiet about 75 miles north of the Saigon River. Seas were so calm the ships were able to tie up next to each other and drift slowly about as we transferred information along to our relief.  The crew was anxious to begin our transit to Sasebo, Japan for a yard period and much needed liberty.  Prime had been at sea almost constantly since late October when we departed Guam with a very brief stop in Subic Bay.  We started north to rendezvous with the other ships of MINDIV 72 and head for Japan. 

At some time late in the day I remember QM1 Jones telling the XO, Stan Pryzby, “The barometer is dropping like a stone”.  Given how calm the sea was, it was easy to feel that something unusual was happening because during our patrol time seas had been fairly rough most of the time.  A check of fleet weather messages revealed a typhoon east of the northern end of the Philippine Islands that was predicted to track due north. 

As usual, the weathermen were WRONG!  Typhoon Pamela tracked due west right into the South China Sea and right on top of MINDIV 72.

  See the following web site for a graphic display and data of Typhoon Pamela in DEC 1966.

 http://agora.ex.nii.ac.jp/digital-typhoon/summary/wnp/s/196635.html.en

By the morning of the 25^th   Christmas Day, we were rocking and rolling.   Cooking the traditional Christmas turkey dinner was very challenging.  Somehow, CS1 Walker, CS3 Messer and the mess cooks got it done and everyone had a great turkey dinner with all the fixings.

 I think that was the last hot meal we had for three days.  The storm got progressively worse.  The infamous fuel bladder, lashed to the fantail, which carried additional fuel on long journeys, was becoming a concern.  The deck hands and engineers had quite a job draining and deflating the bladder because it was moving around so much and threatening to break loose.  No one wanted 1500 gallons of fuel flying around the stern in a rubber container.

By 26 DEC it was clear we were in for a bad ride.  The seas had risen and swells of 15 to 20 feet were not uncommon.  The wind was gusting to 80+ mph.  We were pitching and rolling vigorously.  Rolls of 30 to 35  ̊ were becoming routine. 

Preparing hot food was just about impossible.  Nothing would stay safely in the ovens or the steam kettles.  We had a steady diet of cold cut sandwiches.  More horse cock than you could imagine. 

That day, something broke loose on the forecastle and two deck hands were strapped to safety lines and harnesses to go out on deck to secure the problem.  Both returned safely, but soaked to the skin. 

27 DEC was the worst day.  The Capt., XO and QM1 Jones were very worried because we could not navigate with any degree of certainty because we had no stars, no sun and no moon to do celestial navigation.  No GPS in those days!  They knew we were in the vicinity of the Paracel Islands (shoals) and that could have presented a big problem.  Wind gusts were up to nearly 100mph and seas had risen to 30 feet.  Maintaining steerage was very difficult and the engines were working hard to push us up and over the huge swells. 

RDSN Jerry Konz said he had seen one of our sister ships come over the top of a swell and both screws were completely out of the water.  BM3 Wamsley remembers, with some pride, that he was able to carry his coffee from the mess deck to the bridge to stand watch without spilling a drop.  Small wonder he transferred to coastal minesweepers.

SK2 Dave Kyser remembers being on the bridge as the IJV phone talker. He recalls seeming to be able to reach out from the bridge and get a hand full of salt water because of the way the ship was pitching and rolling. He wedged himself between the bridge railing and the radar repeater so he would not be thrown overboard.  He recalls, “That period of time was the worst in my short time on this earth.  Every once in awhile I could see one of the other ships when we were both on a high wave (swell), which one I can't recall. If my memory serves me right, at times we were only making one and a half knots of head way. Being the phone talker, I would relay the word to the Capt.  I had just received a new set of orders I wanted and was thinking all the time I never would make it to Pensacola, Fl.  But, looking back on that time of my life, I can appreciate the skill and coolness of a bunch of 18- 22 year old kids that grew up pretty damn fast.  After that storm I could see the maturity in a lot of home sick kids. Even CS2 Walker had changed”.

At lunch time, on the bridge, I was the OOD and Doc (HM1) Littleton was the JOOD.  Suddenly, the Prime came off of a large swell and the next one was eye level or higher to the bridge!  The entire bridge watch grabbed for something solid to hang on to and up the side of this monster we went.  The ship began to shutter and strain to maintain headway, but 3/4 ‘s of the way up she stopped, swung hard to starboard and down the side of the swell we slid.  I was hanging on to the ladder to the search light deck. I was looking straight down into the ocean and the clinometer hung at 50  ̊.  Slowly at first, then suddenly we whipped upright.  We swung hard to port to get back on course and get out of the trough.  As we were hanging there, the only thought that came to my mind, through the fear, was would the hydrostatic releases on the life rafts really work?   WOW!  The things that come into your mind during fearful moments.

The 1MC squeaked loud and long, Capt. O’Neill was calling from the wardroom and wanted to know (in a very loud voice) what the hell I was doing.   I think that is what he said; he was not inclined to use harsh or salty language.  But, I don’t think he was completely satisfied with my explanation of “falling off of a wave”.   The mess deck and wardroom were in some disarray. 

RD3 Mike McElroy recounts being thrown off of a chair in CIC, through the entry door, into the passageway, out the starboard hatch and hanging onto the 50 cal. mount tripod while looking straight down into the ocean.  RDSN Jerry Konz recalls almost being decapitated by a metal box that became airborne near the sonar scope.   As strange as it might seem, I don’t remember anyone getting sea sick. 

 That day MINDIV 72’s flagship, the Firm (MSO-444), reported having engine problems and decided to turn south to put the sea to her stern.  A very dangerous maneuver in such a big sea, but they could not maintain headway into the wind.  All communications with Firm was lost for several hours.   Capt. O’Neill considered calling an emergency search, but finally we regained communications with the Firm.  Upon turning, she nearly capsized and bilge water splashed up and knocked out all of her generators but they made it safely to Subic Bay.

That evening after 8 o’clock reports, I had just wound myself up in my bunk lashing and we started to roll to port.  I was suddenly parallel to the bulkhead and I heard the china in the wardroom cupboard smashing on the deck.  Ens. Schneider, in the next stateroom, was cursing and emerged with a nasty bump on his forehead.  He had been thrown out of his bunk. It had to have been another 50 ̊+ roll.  It was not fun being below decks when you think you are going to capsize.

28 DEC.  Things began to calm down.  We were still bouncing around pretty good, but nothing like the pounding we had taken the two previous days.   Now, the Capt., XO and Jones were worried that we might be near Hainan Island.  At that time making a liberty call in communist China would not have gone over very well.

29 DEC.  We finally pulled into Kaohsiung, Taiwan to fuel up and were ordered back to sea to continue our transit to Sasebo.  We spent a tough night navigating the Straits of Taiwan with swells that seemed to be spaced exactly the length of an MSO.  During my watch that night it seemed that every fishing boat in China was trying to collide with us.  Big swells and frequent maneuvering did not make for a pleasant watch.

31 DEC. Finally, we arrived at Sasebo in the evening too late to enter the harbor.  We spent New Year’s Eve cruising around in a big square in snow squalls.   I believe this was the night RDSN Jerry Konz discovered the lower sonar compartment had been damaged in the storm and completely flooded.  We might have been in danger of sinking if any further damage occurred. 

1 JAN 1967 -    Imagine the consequences of letting 2/3 of the crew on liberty, with money in their pockets, for the first time in more than two months. As best I can figure, we had been underway for nearly seventy days with two very brief stops. That night the Quarter Deck watch assisted by some able bodied seamen, the Master at Arms and I, escorted, carried, pushed, manhandled and dragged one sailor after the other (and some officers) up the brow after they staggered to the pier or were dropped off by the shore patrol.  We deposited them below.  The head was not a pleasant scene that night.  There were some very sad looking sailors at quarters the next morning, but no AWOLs.

As soon as we were able to off load ammunition, Prime and two other minesweepers were dry docked together in a one large dry dock and work was begun to repair the damage done by Typhoon Pamela and other hull maintenance.  After two weeks the mighty Prime (MSO-466) was back together again and ready to tackle two more Market Time patrols and nearly seven more months at sea before returning to Long Beach.  Fortunately, we never ran into any more typhoons.

At his retirement ceremony in 1992, BMCM Bobby L. Scott (BM1 on Prime 1966 - 67) commented that during his 40 years in the Navy, one of his poignant memories was “…he survived the near sinking of a minesweeper that was caught in a typhoon in the 1960’s”. 

I doubt that anyone serving on the USS Prime (MSO – 466) in December, 1966 will ever forget Typhoon Pamela.

Thank You Herb, the following are photos taken by Gary Haven when we were in dry dock in Sasebo it shows the repairs and how much damage occurred looking at these photos its a wonder we didn't sink.