Museum Ships of Baltimore

It was a hot and sticky July day when I stepped off the Amtrak train in Baltimore’s Penn Station. I’d boarded an earlier train that day from Harrisburg to Philadelphia, driving to Harrisburg from Ithaca. The total transit time when driving vs. taking the train was about even, and the ability to get work done while traveling made the train a clear winner. I was in Baltimore for a series of Yankees vs. Orioles night baseball games, which gave me some time to explore the city during the day.

I was staying at the Hilton Baltimore Inner Harbor in a room overlooking the Seven Foot Knoll Lighthouse, which gave me the idea to spend a day exploring the holdings of the Historic Ships in Baltimore organization. My family took many trips on Amtrak from Metropark to Baltimore for Yankees vs. Orioles baseball games when I was a kid, but we only visited the ballpark and aquarium on our trips. I ended up visiting all the sites included with the $21.95 ticket: The Seven Foot Knoll Lighthouse, USS Taney, USS Torsk, US Lightship Chesapeake, and the USS Constellation. While I did visit the USS Constellation, I don’t really have any worthwhile pictures to share here besides the one above. Sailing ships aren’t really my thing, though I will say it’s evidently the most well-maintained ship in the fleet and quite unique as a museum ship.

USS TANEY

The largest ship in the museum’s collection, the USS Taney (WHEC-37), is a WWII-era Coast Guard cutter which served from 1936 until 1986. She witnessed the onset of US involvement in WWII while tied up at Pier 6 during the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor on December 7th, 1941. Among her duties in WWII was performing convoy escorts, shelling enemy positions on shore, and defending ships from kamikaze attacks. She is the last ship present at Pearl Harbor that’s still afloat today.

The single 5”/38 caliber gun mounted on Taney’s bow was her main offensive armament for most of her career; however, she did carry additional mounts during WWII. While the Navy was busy cramming anti-aircraft armament into every nook and cranny of its ships, the Taney was mounting additional 5”/38s. There are photos below-deck of Taney which provide a good representation of the many different configurations she sported during her career.

Taney served a very different role post-war, combating smuggling and conducting rescue missions on the open ocean. Her primary role was serving as an ocean station weather ship, reporting meteorological information that aided the preparation of weather forecasts.

Stepping aboard Taney rockets you straight back to WWII with that “old ship smell.” If you’re a fan of museum ships like I am, then you know what I’m talking about—that combination of old machine oil, paint, and general mustiness found aboard old ships. The tour route snakes along the top deck of the ship and down into the hull, giving you a peek at the engineering spaces, mess deck, and finally the 5”/38 mounted on the forward deck.

Having wood decking topside really does make a difference when it comes to the temperature below deck. Taney’s deck is stripped down to the steel underneath, and the spaces below are swelteringly hot. The Battleship New Jersey recently had her teak wood deck replaced at a cost of around $4 million, so I understand why the foundation chose to leave Taney’s deck bare. Caring for four vessels can’t be cheap, but without HVAC, the second deck basically becomes an oven. You could feel the heat radiating off the deck above the officer’s staterooms.

USS Torsk

Next up was the USS Torsk, a Tench-class submarine docked right next to the Baltimore Aquarium. Torsk has the distinction of being the last US Navy ship to sink an enemy vessel during WWII. Her design was an incremental improvement over the Gato and Balao-class boats built earlier in WWII, and consequently, she only undertook two war patrols before the Japanese surrendered on August 15, 1945. After the war, she served as a training ship and anti-submarine training target until her decommissioning in 1971.

The Tench-class boats like Torsk were in an awkward position after WWII, having been made obsolete by advances in German U-Boat technology. A variety of programs were undertaken to extend the service life of these submarines, and the Torsk was converted under the “Fleet Snorkel” program. The sail was streamlined, and a snorkel system was added, allowing the operation of her diesel engines while submerged. The limited submerged range of her Sargo batteries could now be supplemented with diesel power if she could stay within snorkel depth when underway.

A little-known fact about the Torsk, like the USS Cod in Cleveland, OH, is that the only sailors lost during the boat’s history were a result of accidental overboard incidents. Joseph Grant Snow was lost overboard during a training dive on January 4, 1945, in the Atlantic Ocean. Snow was acting as a lookout on the bridge but did not make it down to the conning tower before the hatch was closed. His position on the dive planes at battle stations was covered by another crew member, and his absence was not noticed until the evening. His body was never recovered, considered lost at sea. An investigation into the accident led to the conclusion that new boats should not try to dive within the standard diving time until the crew has been thoroughly drilled.

Lightship CHESAPEAKE

Forward of USS Torsk is the United States Lightship Chesapeake. Built in 1930, she served multiple stations throughout her career until decommissioning in 1970. The primary function of a lightship was similar to a manned lighthouse - to provide a navigational aid to shipping. Lightships of the Chesapeake’s class feature two 5000 lb. mushroom anchors to hold the boat on station in all types of weather. Other features included a 13,000 candlepower beacon lamp, foghorn, radio beacon, and the name of its station stenciled prominently in white against the red hull for navigational purposes. Accommodations for the crew were spacious, with enlisted men sleeping two to a stateroom while officers had their own staterooms.

During WWII, the ship was painted haze gray, armed with 20mm cannons, and tasked with inspecting shipping headed for the Cape Cod Canal. This is the only ship in the Historic Ships in Baltimore collection which has any form of air conditioning, meaning I took a bit longer to explore this ship than I otherwise would have…

Seven Foot Knoll Lighthouse

Seven Foot Knoll Lighthouse is what I believe to be the most unique object of the Historic Ships in Baltimore collection. It is the oldest surviving screw-pile lighthouse in the world, built as a navigational aid to the Chesapeake Bay. The innovative feature behind the lighthouse was its screw-pile design, which allowed the piles to be screwed into the soft ocean bed and eliminated the complexity and expense of a masonry foundation. The lighthouse was installed in 1856. Keepers of the lighthouse would live in the structure with their families until 1919 when the keepers switched to working in pairs. Some lighthouse keepers even raised goats on the galley deck below the main living quarters! Lighthouse keepers were tasked with maintaining the 4th order Fresnel lens, which could be seen for 12 miles. The lighthouse was automated in 1949 and had fallen into disrepair by the time the Coast Guard donated it to the City of Baltimore in 1989.

Syracuse OnTrack

As a former daily rider of NJ Transit’s Raritan Valley Line, I’ve always found it disappointing that public transit in Upstate New York is largely relegated to buses. Some cities, like Rochester and Binghamton, had tram lines that died out in the 1950s. Even Ithaca had regular passenger service via the Lehigh Valley Railroad until 1961. Today, the only regular passenger rail service that runs anywhere Ithaca is Amtrak’s Maple Leaf, Empire Service, and Lake Shore Limited trains. While I appreciate the frequency of trains stopping Syracuse compared to most localities, riding Amtrak takes nearly twice as long and cost about the same as Cornell’s Campus-to-Campus bus when traveling to NYC.

Given the bus-centric nature of public transit in Upstate New York, I was surprised to learn that Syracuse had a commuter rail service as recently as 2008. OnTrack, as the service was named, used Budd Rail Diesel Cars (RDCs) and operated over New York, Susquehanna, and Western (NYSW) railway trackage between northern and southern Syracuse. The RDCs were key to the early success of the operation, keeping running costs low compared to a standard locomotive and coach setup. The NYSW purchased five 1950s Budd RDCs to operate the OnTrack service. Service was suspended in 2007 and discontinued in 2008 due to low ridership and continued operating losses caused by infrequent service and a short overall route. Over the past winter, I set out with my drone and D850 to track down and document what remains of the OnTrack infrastructure today.

Stop #1 | Alliance Bank Stadium Station

The Alliance Bank Stadium station was built but never served any passenger trains. It was demolished in 2022. As usual, I arrived just a few years too late and was unable to snag a picture. This aerial view shows the leftward curve of the rail bed and road toward the William F. Walsh Transportation Center. The pedestrian path linking the parking lot to the road originally led to the platform.

Stop #2 | William F. Walsh Regional Transportation Center

Another instance where infrastructure for OnTrack was built but never put into service is the William F. Walsh Transportation Center, which connects Syracuse to Amtrak. The island platform was intended to serve OnTrack trains on one side and Amtrak on the other. Only the reinforced pedestrian tunnel which runs under the tracks offers any clues that OnTrack was intended to serve the station, as rails were never installed on the tiedowns.

Stop #3 | Carousel Center

The Carousel Center (now Destiny U.S.A.) station is still visible and accessible from the mall parking lot. Remarkably, a notice to riders that city express service will be limited to Saturdays only until further notice is still posted on the platform. This is the station I saw which lead me down the OnTrack rabbit hole. I saw it when traveling to the Apple Store in the to get my Mac serviced and just had to investigate.

Stop #4 | 600 Erie Place

600 Erie Place was a flag stop along the line, meaning a train would only stop if there were passengers to pick up or drop off. Today it’s just a regular grade crossing with no signs of OnTrack.

Stop #5 | Armory Square - Downtown Syracuse

Armory Square utilized the old Delaware, Lackawanna, and Western Railroad station in the heart of Syracuse. The tracks were elevated in 1940, but passenger service was discontinued by 1950.

Stop #6 | Syracuse University - Carrier Dome

The Syracuse University stop, as the name implies, was intended to serve Syracuse University and bring passengers to Carrier Dome events. I wonder what portion of OnTrack ridership came from students traveling to Destiny U.S.A. and Armory Square? Seems like the perfect use case for public transportation to me.

Stop #7 | Colvin Street

Colvin Street was another flag stop on the line. The metal “Colvin Street” sign is still posted at the top of the stairs that lead down from the tracks to street level. An asphalt platform, the station sign, and concrete stairs are all that remain of this stop. Seasonal service continued as far south as Jamesville Beach Park during the summers.

Pullman, Indiana

While the truly luxurious era of North American train travel is long gone, the legacy of George Mortimer Pullman’s “Palace Car” lives on at the Pullman National Historic Park. I found myself in Chicago a few months back with a dangerous combination of a free Saturday and a bag full of cameras. Pullman, like Roebling, NJ, was a company town that has been on my “to visit” list for years. I didn’t have a rental car, so I ended up taking Metra from Chicago’s Millennium Station to the Pullman site. This trip was full of firsts, including an overnight Amtrak train in coach from Syracuse to Chicago, a return trip back in a bid-up roomette, and the delightful experience of missing my Metra stop on the way out to Pullman. Metra is the only US commuter rail service I know of in the 21st century that still operates flag stops. Both myself and another passenger were caught off-guard by this and had to make the walk of shame back from the following station to Pullman after we missed our stop.

So who was George Pullman, why is a town named after him, and how did it become a National Historic Park? George Pullman was the founder of the Pullman Company, which built and operated luxurious railroad sleeping accommodations between 1867 and 1969. Pullman started building rail cars in 1863 and incorporated the Pullman Palace Car Company in 1867. A huge publicity boost in 1865 set the company up for success when the newly completed $20,000 Pullman Pioneer Car was attached to President Abraham Lincoln’s funeral train, attracting investors like Andrew Carnegie to the company. Pullman’s leasing model was unique - porters, conductors, and the cars themselves were leased by railroads, offsetting their high cost and giving the Pullman Company complete control over the quality of service provided onboard.

The high demand for Pullman cars soon outstripped manufacturing capacity, and as such, a 4,000-acre lot south of Chicago was chosen for a new factory and company town in 1880. Workers could live, work, shop, and relax all within the confines of the Pullman neighborhood. A large arcade contained a movie theater, library, bank, stores, and offices. A singular church, dubbed Greenstone Church for its characteristically greenish limestone walls, served as a place of worship for multiple denominations. A central market building sold produce and meat to workers.

The idealistic community George Pullman envisioned lasted all of 15 years before it was forcibly separated from the Pullman Company by Illinois Supreme Court order. A contributing factor to the demise of Pullman as a company-owned town was the Pullman boycott of 1894. The boycott stemmed from layoffs that left many workers unable to pay rent or buy food, and the company refused to slash prices commensurate with a 30-40% reduction in wages.

The strike spread nationwide as union members refused to run trains with Pullman carriages. The company devised a backhanded way to break the strike by convincing the railroads to run Pullman cars on their mail trains. Refusing to run the mail threatened interstate commerce, which allowed the federal government to step in and use armed troops to break the strike. A subsequent Illinois Supreme Court decision required Pullman to dispose of its non-industrial holdings as they fell outside the company’s charter, which was completed with the divestment of the company town in 1907.

The downfall of the Pullman Company began with the decline of passenger rail travel post-WWII. Air travel was rapidly taking passenger traffic from the railroads, and the allure of Pullman service quickly faded. The last railcars rolled out of the complex in 1982, although the Pullman-Standard Company had dissolved in 1969. Plans to preserve the old administration building and shops had been in the works since 1991 when the state of Illinois purchased the structures, but no real action was taken until after the whole complex went up in flames on December 6, 1998. A man who “heard voices” in his head set the blaze, which completely gutted the structure. The National Park Service has since renovated what’s left of the administration building into a visitors center that has exhibits on the history of Pullman and its significance as a National Historic Park.

I thought it was interesting that the layout of Pullman is the inverse of Roebling. Whereas the cheapest houses in Roebling were located right next to the steel mills, the nicest houses for company executives were right across the street from the factories in Pullman. The community of Pullman provided everything its residents could need, including a luxurious hotel for visitors, a massive arcade with a post office, movie theater, library, and a central market where workers could purchase groceries. Most of the housing and structural layout of the town has survived. The Arcade was demolished in 1926, and Market Hall burned in 1974.

The Hotel Florence is now managed by the National Park Service, Greenstone Church is home to a Methodist congregation, and the Bielenberg Historic Pullman House Foundation operates a coffee shop out of a former executive’s house. I’d highly recommend stopping by the coffee shop if you’re in town for a visit.

Rivers of Steel

Rivers of Steel is another relic of the United States Steel Corporation, a once-bustling Pittsburgh steel mill whose only remains today are the Carrie Blast Furnaces. The site was operational from 1907 to 1978, producing steel from its blast furnaces for use in the integrated steel production operations at the Homestead Works across the river. After the Homestead Works closed for good in 1986, the area was designated a Superfund Site due to heavy metal contamination. Furnaces #6 and #7 were listed on the National Register of Historic Places, saved from demolition, and repurposed into the Rivers of Steel attraction that exists today.

I took an unguided photography tour of the site offered through Rivers of Steel, which allows you to wander around the ruins and take pictures wherever you want (certain clearly-marked areas excluded). I brought my Nikon F6 with battery grip and a few rolls of Tri-X 400. I pushed the film to ISO 1600 and developed using Ilford DD-X to keep my shutter speed fast enough for handheld shooting. One thing I noticed while shooting, and especially after developing my film, was that the F6 seemed to back focus in low light about 75% of the time. Maybe I’m just expecting too much from a focusing system that’s the same age as I am, but I was surprised by its inaccuracy. I also tried shooting with my 24mm and 45mm PC-E lenses, but I struggled to manually focus them. I still missed focus on about 25% of the shots I took, even with a magnifying eyepiece. I probably just need more practice. The F6 can’t control electronic aperture lenses like my 19mm PC-E, so only the older 24mm, 45mm, and 85mm PC-E lenses with aperture rings can be used with the camera.

I ended up spending an irresponsible amount of money on eBay for a Type B focusing screen from Japan, which adds a split prism to the F6. Since visiting Rivers of Steel, I haven’t noticed any significant discrepancies in focus between the CAM-2000 AF system and the split prism, but I also haven’t shot in such challenging conditions. While I trust the AF system, the split-prism provides some extra peace of mind that I’m really nailing the focus.

I enjoy shooting locations like Rivers of Steel because there’s a lot to see in a concentrated space. I can walk around and constantly stumble over good compositions, interesting lighting, and unique subjects.

One thing I’ve been trying to improve on is my metering skills. The F6 has an amazing meter in it, just like my trusty D850. Ninety percent of the time, Matrix Metering nails the exposure. However, there are certain situations where an 18% gray exposure just isn’t right for a scene, and as the photographer, you need to recognize when spot metering or exposure compensation is necessary. As resistant as I’ve been to mirrorless cameras (my career involves staring at a screen all day anyway), my z50 has really helped me recognize the immediate need for exposure compensation in certain situations.

Even with ISO 1600 film, I struggled to get a fast enough shutter speed to completely avoid camera shake. These pictures are the best of the bunch between the shaky shots and missed focus. I mainly shot in manual mode and deliberately underexposed many shots since the matrix and center-weighted metering didn’t account for the dark environment.

Author’s Note: You might’ve noticed that I took a break from releasing new articles and blog posts for a few months. It’s been a busy year between traveling to Prague, getting married, and a difficult summer at work. I should be back to our regularly scheduled programming of in-depth projects and bi-monthly blog posts soon. Thanks for sticking around!

Kansas City to Topeka

It turns out that I’m really bad at actually relaxing on vacation, especially when I’m traveling somewhere new. Sitting around the hotel or resort just feels like a wasted opportunity when I could be out hunting down a historic building or exploring off the beaten path. Just this past weekend, I traveled to Cleveland for a Friday work meeting, staying overnight to visit Microcenter and the USS Cod Submarine Memorial on Sunday. If I can leverage a work trip into a vacation, I’m all for it!

Since retiring, my parents have set a goal of visiting every Major League Baseball stadium in the country. I’ve joined them for some of the different stadiums, including trips to Boston, Baltimore, and Seattle/Oakland. When the chance to see the Yankees play the Kansas City Royals came up, I started planning the ultimate 3-day tour of Kansas City, which led to this blog post.

The first point of interest I saw was the iconic “Western Auto” sign that towers 12 floors above Kansas City. The sign is a remnant of the Western Auto Corporation, founded in 1908 by George Pepperdine. What started as a mail-order auto parts business driven by the widespread adoption of the Ford Model T grew into a nationwide chain of auto parts stores. But the building atop which the sign is perched wasn’t built by Western Auto—it was Coca-Cola who chose the site and constructed the office tower. The site was well-suited for Coca-Cola’s West-Central operations and had easy access to nearby Union Station and its railroad tracks. Western Auto eventually purchased the building as their headquarters and erected the sign, which remained behind after the company was acquired by Advance Auto Parts in 1998. It was eventually restored and relit by the condo association that now occupies the building.

The National WWI Museum

Only a short distance away from the Western Auto sign is possibly one of the most architecturally significant structures in Kansas City, the National WWI Memorial. Thanks to a group of prominent Kansas City citizens, millions of dollars were raised by the time ground was broken on the monument in 1921. The site is a mix of Beaux Arts with Egyptian elements like the two guardian sphinxes which flank Liberty Tower, the spire that juts skyward from above the museum. On sphinx shields its face from the horrors of the past, while the other looks towards the future.

The museum has a nice balance of artifacts and historical interpretations, mixing relics of WWI with live effects and video presentations. With so much to look at, you could easily spend all day reading the details behind the artillery, weapons, and personal effects on display throughout the museum. The lower level of the museum showcases random and duplicative artifacts within the collection and gives patrons the opportunity to see curators at work behind-the-scenes. Don’t tap on the glass though, you’ll spook them!

Above ground is the original memorial buildings, which have towering ceilings adorned with murals. Only one of the buildings was open during my visit. The new addition, which holds the museum’s permanent collections, lives within the pedestal below the Liberty Tower. Ascending the elevator to the top of Liberty Tower affords a a great view of Kansas City, Union Station, and the Western Auto sign. If you ever visit Kansas City, I’d argue the WWI Memorial should be top of your list for places to visit.

Brown v. Board of Education NHP

My next stop involved a drive to Topeka, KS to see the Brown v. Board of Education National Historical Park. This historic building, formerly the Monroe Elementary School, houses exhibits related to the landmark Supreme Court case, and is one of six segregated schools that are part of the National Historic Park listing. Despite changing hands many times after closing in 1975 due to declining enrollment, the building retains interesting features like the child-sized enamel water fountain in the hallway and the hand-stenciled names above the doors of the auditorium, principal’s office, and classrooms. I found the video presentation that loops in the gymnasium to be quite informative and presented in an interesting format, even if it was a bit dated.

Unfortunately I didn’t have any time to drive through Topeka proper, though the skyline is clearly visible from the school. My hope is that I’ll make it back around someday to properly explore the city. I had one more stop to go before making the drive back to Kansas City for the Yankees/Royals game, which was Harry S. Truman National Historic Site.

Truman National Historic Site

I made it to Independence just as the day wound down and the sun dipped closer to the horizon. I’d just missed the last tour of the Truman house, the interior of which is only accessible with a National Park Ranger guided tour. The visitor’s center occupies an old firehouse in central Independence and stays open later than the outlying sites, so I was able to get my NPS passport stamp and zip through the gift shop. I couldn’t get a good angle on the Truman house in Independence with the setting sun, so I instead opted to drive over to Grandview and see another site within the NHS, Truman’s 1894 farmhouse.

Like the house in Independence, the interior of the Grandview farmhouse is not open to visitors. Only a small chunk of the 600 acre farm remains behind the house - the majority was sold off for development before the NPS acquired the site. You can walk around the property and peer through the windows, but watch out for the aggressive animals that supposedly live under the smoke house out back…

There was one last place I was dying to see before I had to return the rental car and catch my flight back to Newark. I threw my Mavic Classic 3 in the trunk and drove back across Kansas City to The Roasterie, a coffee shop and roaster that has a Douglas DC-3 strapped to the roof. I tried taking a shot with my 19mm PC-E lens but found the drone produced a better picture - being able to fly up high and position the DC-3 against the Kansas City skyline made for a more interesting composition.  I picked up a cup of coffee (that I had to pound back before going through TSA) and a bag of coffee beans for making cold brew at home, though I wish I’d had more time to soak it all in before leaving. The good news is there’s always more history and interesting architecture out there to explore!

USS Cod Submarine Memorial

Although I spent four years at Ohio University in Athens, OH, I somehow never made it all the way up to Cleveland. I love a good museum ship, and I’ve been on a mission since 2021 to collect signatures from the museum curators of ships which have YouTube channels like the USS New Jersey, the Buffalo Naval Park, etc. So when I found out that I needed to be in-office for a work event and saw Cleveland listed as an option, I decided to make an overnight trip of it and get another curator’s signature on my USS New Jersey hat.

The USS Cod Submarine Memorial, located on the shores of downtown Cleveland, is a Gato-class submarine built during WWII that has called the city home since 1959. Commissioned in June 1943 and struck from the naval register in December 1971, the USS Cod saw a long career during which she attacked Japanese shipping during WWII, rescued the crew of a stranded Dutch submarine, and served as a naval training vessel for reservists. She opened as a museum ship in 1976 and is frankly one of the best-preserved and staged ships I’ve visited.

It was a cold and damp February day when I visited the submarine, and a thin sheet of ice on Lake Erie encased the USS Cod. I met up with Paul Farace, Director of the USS Cod Submarine Memorial, who told me a bit about the boat’s history before we climbed aboard. Paul has been with the boat since the beginning, which puts him in a unique position of retelling the stories he’s obtained from first-hand accounts of Cod’s crew. I spent about 4 hours with Paul as we toured the submarine, though I feel like I could’ve easily spent twice that amount of time listening to all the stories Paul has to tell.

Climbing aboard, our first stop was to take a look at Cod’s 5-inch/25-caliber deck gun. The role of submarines post-WWII saw them spending more time submerged than on the surface, and deck guns like the 5-inch/25-caliber became obsolete. Cod’s deck gun is not original to the submarine - luckily the memorial was able to salvage one after she became a museum ship, returning her to the configuration which fits her period of interpretation (early 1950s). The deck gun would be used to attack targets not worth the expenditure of a torpedo, like the ubiquitous Japanese junks of WWII. Some ready-service ammunition for the deck guns would be stored in watertight compartments outside the pressure hull, but the main ammunition stores existed in a compartment below the crew’s mess. In situations where sustained fire was necessary, or to replenish the ready-service ammunition on deck, a scuttle in the overhead allowed the crew to pass shells up through the pressure hull. Cod used her deck guns to sink 26 junks during the war. This achievement is represented by the sampan stenciled on her mast - the martini glass represents the sailors of the Dutch submarine O-19 which the Cod’s crew rescued in July 1945.

Walking along the deck, you pass over some notable features including concave damage to the deck plates sustained from depth charge attacks and evidence of a glancing blow left by enemy gunfire. I might’ve otherwise missed those details if it weren’t for Paul and the USS Cod’s YouTube channel - they cover the “hidden history” of the ship which you wouldn’t notice upon first glance. For example, hiding below the submarine’s deck is a cradle that was intended to hold a liberty launch during peacetime operations. It would be used to ferry crew between the submarine and shore when it was impractical to bring the entire boat into port. While the liberty launch was removed for wartime service and USS Cod never carried one, the cradle was left in place.

One thing you don’t necessarily realize about these submarines is just how much infrastructure is wedged between the pressure hull and deck. If you take a look to the right of the forward escape trunk below-deck, you can catch a glimpse of the bottles which stored compressed air for the 21-inch torpedo tubes.

Life Aboard The USS Cod

One of the coolest features of the USS Cod isn’t something it has, but rather what it lacks - museum-era modification to make the submarine more “visitor friendly” and accessible. Going below decks is accomplished by climbing through the forward and aft torpedo room escape trunks, just like a submariner would’ve when the USS Cod was in service. The ladders are steep and a bit awkward to use, but it’s a unique experience I’ve never had aboard any other museum ship.

Climbing down the escape trunk deposits you in the forward torpedo room. Here you’ll find berthing spaces for the crew and the submarine’s most powerful weapon, the Mark 14 torpedo. My favorite the thing about the USS Cod is how the museum has done such an amazing job filling the space with artifacts and “signs of life” from the Cod’s crew. Period-correct plates and silverware are set out in the crews’ mess, laundry is hung out to dry in the engine room, drinking glasses sit perched in holders next to sinks, and an apron hangs off a mixer in the galley. It almost feels as if the crew dropped what they were doing in 1950 and went ashore just before you boarded.

As we stood outside the galley, Paul recalled a story involving the submarine’s cook during WWII. George Sacco was a baker from Brooklyn who’d never used a commercial mixer before. The brand-new mixer in Cod’s galley worked fine for awhile but started having problems while the submarine was underway. It turned out the crew had forgot to pack the mixer’s brand-new bearings with grease, causing it to seize up. Luckily it worked just fine after greasing the bearings - it worked so well, in fact, that George quickly ran out of space in the bread locker for all the baked goods he was able to churn out of Cod’s galley. Bread lockers (like the one located beneath a bench seat in the crews’ mess) were used to cool and store bread baked aboard the submarine. The crew eventually built an auxiliary bread locker to keep up with the steady stream of backed goods that George made, which can be seen to your left as you walk through the crews’ mess.

Propulsion, Weapons, and Hidden History

Heading back aft takes you past the officers quarters, through the main berthing compartment, and to the control room where the boat was helmed. An off-tour route stop I made with Paul was the conning tower, situated above the control room. Here you could access the bridge through a hatch in the overhead, peer through the two periscopes, and steer the submarine. Somehow there could be 12 men packed into that tiny space during torpedo actions, steering the ship and calculating courses to attack enemy ships. Both of Cod’s periscopes work, and so does her torpedo data computer.

At the heart of the submarine are 4x V16 diesel engines (built in Cleveland) which generate the horsepower needed to drive the electric motors responsible for propelling the ship when surfaced and for charging the submarine’s 252 lead-acid batteries to be used when submerged. What’s remarkable is that the diesel engines are still operational, like many systems aboard USS Cod. Key components of the propulsion system like the lead-acid batteries and propellers have been removed though, so it won’t be possible to take the submarine out for a pleasure cruise on Lake Erie anytime soon.

Further aft is the maneuvering room where electricians control the power output of the diesel engines, using it to charge batteries or turn the USS Cod’s two propellers. A set of oversized control arms allow engineers to control power input and output, and an engine order telegraph allows the maneuvering room to acknowledge orders from the bridge.

Having watched USS Cod’s YouTube series covering the “hidden history” aboard the submarine, part of my mission was to locate the various items talked about in their videos. I’d already recognized some of them when I went aboard the USS Torsk in Baltimore over the summer. I found the signal flare ejectors (one in aft torpedo room, the other in the control room), the emergency ration boxes located in each compartment, and the crew’s 1941 Sears & Roebuck ironing board.

So far I’ve collected Ryan’s autograph from the Battleship New Jersey, Drachinifel, and Paul’s autograph from the USS Cod. I think my next stop will be the Buffalo Naval Park so I can get Shane’s autograph on my hat - stay tuned for a future update!