ABOVE: A seaman “dives the tub” on a Royal Navy submarine. U.K. MINISTRY OF DEFENCE
RIGHT: A Royal Navy submarine launches a Royal Navy Sub Harpoon antiship missile. U.K. MINISTRY OF DEFENCE
Conning Tower
The conning tower of Triumph is much like that of the Miami, except that hers has somewhat more room. In fact, there are two separate positions for lookouts and officers to work topside. There is the usual array of periscopes and masts, including a huge dome for the Racal UAP ESM system. Both of the periscopes appear to be RAM coated to keep down their radar signature. Getting down the conning tower trunk into the control room is, if possible, tighter even than on Miami. In fact, almost everything on Triumph seems to be about three-fifths size compared to Miami—sort of like the difference between Disneyland in California and Walt Disney World in Florida!
Sonar Room
If you drop down the ladder into the control room and take a U-turn to the left, you will be in the sonar room of the Triumph, where all the equipment and displays for the sonar systems are contained. I should say here that the British have nothing like the BSY-1 combat system in service right now. There is a plan for a system called the 2076 in a few years, but right now, all contact data handed off between sonar systems is done manually. The sonar suite on Triumph might be compared favorably to that on a Flight I Los Angeles-class boat. The various sonar systems include:• Type 2020, the main sonar array (both active and passive) in the bow of the boat. Unlike the dome sonar on Miami, it is composed of an array of elements around the “chin” (conformal array) of the boat. It can track several targets at once, and can pass data directly to the fire control system. One of the more interesting features is the “captain’s key,” which must be inserted in a slot in the 2020 control console before the active mode can be used. It is equipped with a special signal processor, Type 2027, which (if the tactical situation is right) can automatically calculate ranges to the target and feed the data to the fire control system.
• Type 2072, the new flank array (passive listening only), which can only be described as huge. It is designed to detect broadband targets at long range.
• Type 2046, the “clip-on” towed sonar array (passive listening only), attached to a tow point on the tip of the horizontal stabilizer. It is capable of detecting both broadband and narrowband signals.
• Type 2019, the acoustic intercept receiver for detecting active sonars and torpedoes. This is a French system that is manned, as opposed to the automatic operating mode of the U.S. WLR-9.
The sonar systems on Triumph provide excellent coverage in both spectrum and azimuth. Only the lack of a fully integrated combat system and the TB-23 towed array system keeps it from being the equal technically of the BSY-1.
Control Room/Fire Control/Navigation
If you duck back around the corner where you came from originally, you may be surprised to find that the landing for the conning tower ladder has now been converted into a chair for Commander Vaughan. From this position, he can view the repeater for the sonar systems, the fire control consoles in the track alley, and the plotting area. Just aft are the two periscopes and the mast for the UAP ESM system. The scopes are first-rate, with the CK 034 search scope easily being the equal of the American Type 18. It is equipped with readouts for the ESM receiver mounted on top of the mast as well as a 35mm camera for taking photographs. The CH 084 attack scope, which has a very small head (to make it hard to detect), is also equipped with a low-light TV camera. Both are very quiet when raised, and have excellent optics. Two differences are the use of a split image rangefinder, as well as more automated controls.
The fire control alley is equipped with six positions for fire control technicians. The system is set up to track and engage several targets simultaneously. The screens are round, red- or amber-colored plasma displays; a light pen is used to designate the targets and move between the various operating modes. All the fire control solutions are generated automatically, and there is no manual TMA solution being plotted to back up the automated system. The British seem to prefer this because they believe that most engagements will probably be at relatively short range. This is like what they might encounter with a diesel boat, in which the reaction time for getting the first weapon in the water is the deciding factor. Thus the sonar/fire control fit of the Triumph, as well as the training of the crew (and especially the captain in his Perisher course), is a reflection of the current RN combat doctrine.
The crew of a Royal Navy submarine conducts an escape drill. The trainee at the left is wearing the latest MK 8 escape suit. U.K. MINISTRY OF DEFENCE
Traveling aft from the track alley, you come upon the two plotting tables, called SNAPS tables. These are automated and can be fed with plotting information from the fire control system and navigational aids. In addition, they can make use of standard navigational charts, the coordinates of which are stored in the computer’s memory. Supporting the navigator is a Navstar GPS receiver, as well as a SINS system (the gyro compartment is down in the third level portside) to help keep Triumph on course.
Across the control room to the port side, you find the ship control area. It is laid out similarly to the one on Miami, the main difference being that the British have automated the control system so only one man controls both the bow and stern diving planes from a single position. The ballast control panel is to the right of the ship handling position, with the diving officer seated behind them. The boat dives in about the same time as the Miami, though she seems to be somewhat easier to trim. Triumph handles extremely well, able to turn at over 1 degree per second with only a moderate rudder on. She also speeds up and slows down very quickly and smoothly, with no noticeable sound or vibration as she changes speed. It is the pumpjet that makes most of the difference in noise and vibration over a propeller system like that on the Miami. Also, her hull shape is somewhat better from a maneuvering point of view.
The ESM/Radio Spaces
Aft of the plotting area is the radio room. The British communications capabilities appear to be quite similar to those of the Miami, though it appears this system may not have an ELF capability. Just aft of the ship control is a door marked RADAR WARNING ROOM. This is the space where the readouts for the ESM system and communication intelligence (Comint) systems are located. Both systems are fed out of the mast antennas, especially the big ESM dome. These are really impressive systems, and are clearly a great deal more capable than a standard 688I. This is not to say the U.S. Navy and the Royal Navy do not have boats specially configured for ESM/Comint purposes; they do. But if I were an American admiral planning to use a sub to monitor radio or radar activity off a hostile coast, and I did not have one of those special boats, I might just ask the British to borrow a Trafalgar-class boat for the mission.
The Engine—The Reactor/Maneuvering Spaces
Aft from the control room, you walk under the main access hatch to the deck, and into the access hatch for the reactor space. As with the Miami, visitors are not allowed to enter this space. The Triumph’s reactor, called PWR-1 (Pressurized Water Reactor-1), is derived from the American S5W plant. Therefore the British have to abide by all of the procedures and security regulations set down in a 1958 joint RN/U.S. Navy agreement. The PWR-1 supplies about 15,000 horsepower, translating into a top speed of about 30 knots when she is at depth. As far as layout, the machinery spaces are roughly equivalent to those on Miami, with two of everything (turbines, motor generators, etc.) except for the main power train.
Living Spaces
Coming back forward on the starboard side is the captain’s cabin. The accommodations for the commander of a British SSN are positively Spartan by U.S. standards, with the cabin being only about a third the size of that on the Miami. On the forward end of the cabin is a small desk, with a single bunk along the outer bulkhead aft. Maximum use is made of the space, with a bookcase built over the end of the bunk.
Commander Vaughan likes to add a few homey touches to his cabin, like a pil
e of books on naval warfare (how pleasing to find a hardcover of The Hunt for Red October on top!) in the bookshelf, a small sound and video system paneled into the bulkhead, and a Thomas the Tank Engine bedspread, courtesy of his son. While it is somewhat cramped, and he does not even have a head to share with Lieutenant Commander Davis-Marks, he likes it. It is close to the control room, and he can get to his action station in just a matter of seconds.
If you proceed down the accommodation ladder to the second deck, you find the rest of the living spaces. Over on the port side are the officers’ quarters and wardroom. The first lieutenant and the navigator share the single two-man cabin, with the rest of the officers sharing spaces with three-high bunks. There is a single lavatory for the officers in the passageway leading to the officers’ wardroom. There are the usual amenities of a stereo and video system, as well as plenty of storage for the liquid refreshments that make the Royal Navy seem so much more civilized at times than the U.S. Navy. A small pantry serves the officers’ wardroom, though all the food is cooked in a central galley serving all the men on the boat.
The rest of the crew eats and assembles in a pair of small mess areas (senior and junior ratings) on the starboard side of the second level. They are just as comfortable as the officers’ wardroom; the senior rating mess has the added luxury of a bar with both Foster’s Lager and John Courage on tap. Like the officers’ wardroom, both are equipped with stereo and video systems.
The berthing areas are split (senior and junior ratings), with access for all of them located on the second level. Again, they are three-high bunks with stowage trays for personnel gear. As on the Miami, there are more junior enlisted personnel than bunks, so some “hot bunking” is required to fit everyone in.
Life Support Systems—The Machinery Spaces
Unlike the 688I-class boats, in which it is all located in one compartment, the Trafalgars have their life support equipment scattered in a series of different spaces in various parts of the boat. The CO2 scrubbers and the oxygen production plant are down in a compartment on the third level forward, surrounded by an acoustic enclosure. Up on the second level, just above the scrubber compartment, is the air-conditioning plant, also in an acoustic enclosure. Up on the first deck forward, in the same compartment as the forward escape trunk, are the CO/H2 burners that are used in the event of an emergency. The main H2 burners are located on the second deck. The two auxiliary diesel engines are located aft in the engine room. The reason for spreading these different pieces of equipment out around the boat is to put them in places where they can be most effectively isolated, from a noise standpoint.
Weapons—Torpedoes and Missiles
Down on the third level and forward, you come to the torpedo room, which the crew calls a “bomb shop.” Here are stored the various weapons that arm HMS Triumph. She is equipped with five 21-inch /533mm torpedo tubes (two per side, with one going out under the chin of the bow) and can store twenty-five weapons in the compartment. The torpedo tubes utilize a water ram system similar to the one on Miami, and use a similar loading system. The fifth tube makes it possible to fire a salvo of four weapons of one type, for instance, while still having one weapon of another type in reserve.
Currently the RN is deploying two different types of torpedoes. One is the Mk 24 Tigerfish Mod 2, which is an electrically powered wire-guided torpedo designed primarily for ASW work. It has a 200-lb /91-kg warhead, a maximum speed of 35 knots, and a range of 22,000 meters at 24 knots. It is very quiet (the British captains are fond of calling Tigerfish the stealth torpedo), though the small warhead makes it less effective for shooting at surface vessels.
Replacing the Tigerfish is the new Spearfish torpedo, which has a much larger warhead (660 1b/300 kg), comparable range (approximately 13 miles/21 km), and a maximum speed of around 60 knots. This torpedo is a monster, with many of the same kinds of guidance improvements and capabilities as the Mk 48 ADCAP.
In addition to the torpedoes, the RN deploys a version of the UGM-84 Harpoon antiship missile to give the Triumph a long-range antiship capability. Called Royal Navy Sub Harpoon (RNSH), it is equivalent to the U.S. Block 1C version of the missile.
While the Triumph does not deploy quite the variety of weapons that Miami does, one should remember that the British boats do not pursue the same role and missions as the U.S. fleet. And while the Royal Navy captains might like a weapon equivalent to the Block ID or Tomahawk cruise missiles, budget constraints will probably force them to be satisfied with what they currently have. Nevertheless, they are already capably armed and quite deadly.
Escape Trunks/Swimmer Delivery
Much like the Miami, the Triumph is equipped with a pair of escape trunks for emergency transfer to a DSRV, swimmer delivery, or emergency ascent escape. There is a two-man escape chamber in the forward machinery space on the first level, as well as aft in the machinery space. These chambers are designed to allow emergency escape from depths down to 600 feet/183 meters when used in conjunction with the RN Mk 8 egress/exposure suit. This suit, which uses the same kind of air reservoir breathing system as the American Steinke hood, provides the user with an insulated suit for survival on the surface. So effective is this system that test subjects have been able to survive for up to twenty-four hours in water simulating North Atlantic conditions. Although the British operate in areas where the water is, on average, shallower than that where the U.S. subs operate, they still train all their submarine personnel for deep-water egress. This is regularly practiced in a tower at their submarine school in Portsmouth.
Acoustic Isolation
The Trafalgar-class submarines, much like their American 688I counterparts, are designed to be extremely quiet. And while the British seem to be using many of the same quieting techniques and equipment, there do appear to be a few interesting features. Like Miami, the Triumph appears to use a large machinery raft with isolation mounts for all the large pieces of equipment (turbines, generators, etc.). Even the shaft that is connected to the pumpjet propulsor has a flexible mounting to keep down bearing noise.
As we discussed earlier, many of the noisier pieces of equipment seem to be set in their own acoustic enclosures. In addition, all the electronic equipment is set on leaf spring mounts to provide protection against the shock of a nearby explosion, as well as some sound isolation. Triumph also has a fairly extensive self-monitoring noise system, both to detect any untoward noise as well as to help locate any pending failures. Triumph is also equipped with systems to reduce the risk of detection from the boat’s magnetic signature, as well as reducing the electrical field generated by the corrosion of the boat in seawater. All in all, the Triumph is probably the equal of the Miami in noise reduction.
Damage Control
A hallmark of the British character is their power of understatement and reserve. Yet if there is one thing that personnel on board the Triumph are fanatical about, it is damage control, particularly firefighting. The British experience with fire during the Falklands War in 1982, specifically the loss of HMS Sheffield and RFA Atlantic Conveyer to uncontrolled fires, has left a permanent impression. This shows in the design of their boats, which have the ability to isolate compartments and flood them with Halon. Virtually every electronic equipment rack has a port to inject CO2 gas to snuff any electrical fire. Like the 688I, Triumph has an EAB system with forced-feed air masks for every man on the crew. And then there are the firefighting tools themselves.
Their firefighting crew suits are made of chemically treated wool, which they say provides better insulation against the heat of a compartment fire, with protection as good as that of Nomex. Instead of the EAB masks or an OBA to breathe, the RN uses a compressed-air cylinder pack (called a Scott Pack) to provide breathable air to their firefighters. They are equipped with the same kind of thermal imager as the U.S. Navy has, as well as infrared fire detectors (which look like flashlights), and a full array of fire extinguishers, air test kits, and first aid kits.
The crown jewel of the Triumph’s
firefighting capability is their fixed AFFF (Aqueous Fire Fighting Foam) system. One of these is located on every level of the boat forward of the reactor, and I assume they are also back in the machinery spaces as well. This system, which looks like a small water heater, mixes seawater with the AFFF mixture and feeds it through a pressure hose. Crew members on Triumph indicated that they could lay down over 100 gallons/377 liters of AFFF slurry per minute with this system, which compares well with the still very effective AFFF fire extinguishers used on the Miami.
Life Aboard
Life aboard Triumph is not all that different from on the Miami. Though the food is a little different (cheese buns for lunch and curry salad dressing are normal), the diet is healthy and hearty. The cultural difference between the two services appears in the attitude toward alcohol. Unlike the U.S. Navy, the Royal Navy still allows their crews to have beer and wine aboard (the daily “tot” of Pussers Rum is unfortunately no longer served to the ratings). The attitude of the Royal Navy leadership for over six centuries has been that if a man is responsible enough to go to sea with its risks of quick death and isolation, then he should not be deprived of the basic pleasure of a drink if he should want it. In reality, most of what is carried aboard is consumed while in port; most men just don’t drink at sea while they are working.