How does the life on board a ship or submarines run smoothly?give examples fast
Answers
Answer:
That is a very complicated question that could take a small book to answer. It’s been decades since I was in, but here are some thoughts, starting with the obvious points.
It is small. Even the newest Ohio-class subs are small inside compared to what most people are used to. There are very few spaces on a submarine where you could extend your arms and spin around without hitting something. When you walk down the passage way (hallway) you tend to walk with your right shoulder forward because that will be the only way to get past anyone coming the other way. It is very easy to hit your head on doorways, pipes, etc. You get used to it or you go crazy.
You have very little private space. I was fortunate to be an officer so I shared a small room with two other officers. I’m not sure but I think our “stateroom" was maybe 6′x10′ (2m by 3m). It had two drop-down desks and a drop-down sink. Most men on board (no women at that time) pretty much only had their bunk. Their privacy was pulling the curtain on their bunk (pretty much the same as all Navy ships). If there were more crew members than bunks, you had to share the bunk. This was called “hot bunking” because when you got in your bunk it was still warm from the last guy.
The atmosphere is closed. Although they ventilate the sub periodically (I think we came to periscope depth weekly to exchange some of the air) all the smells are recirculated. Galley, diesel (even nuke subs have an emergency diesel), body odor, cigarette smoke, paint, cleaning supplies, etc. It’s pretty bad for a week, but then you don’t notice it. Interestingly, during the first week we all caught whatever respiratory disease anyone had, but after that no one caught anything else; there were no new strains introduced.
You never see sunlight. This didn’t bother me, but I suspect that Seasonal Affective Disorder was common. There are so many other things going on that this is probably the least of your problems. Most of the crew have no idea where we are, but it doesn’t matter. Your job and your life aren’t affected by where the boat is. After we submerge, we set the clocks to Zulu time (Greenwich Mean Time). Since you can’t see the sun, it doesn’t matter what local time is. Only the Officer of the Deck cares in case he has to come to periscope depth. He would usually do this at night to ensure no one would see the periscope. The Control Room would be rigged for red lights so his eyes would be adapted for dark. At night the OOD would wear red goggles on watch in case we had to do it without warning.