![]() ![]() My research adviser at Duke University was Cameron “Dale” Bass, an associate professor of biomedical engineering, and Dale worshiped efficiency. Each man was still seated peacefully at his station. The crew of the Hunley, however, looked quite different. Sinkings of modern submarines have always resulted in the discovery of the dead clustered near the exits, the result of desperate efforts to escape the cold metal coffins to sit silently and await one’s own demise simply defies human nature. ![]() Accounts of the Hunley’s sinking had assumed horrific scenes of the men trying to claw their way through the thick iron hatches, or huddled in the fetal position beneath the crew bench in their agony. One hundred and thirty-six years later, in 2000, in a massive custom-built water tank, archaeologists clad in protective coveralls and wearing respirators sorted patiently through the muck and silt that had slowly filled the hull of the submarine as it lay on the bottom of the ocean floor. Those in Charleston awaiting the return of the Hunley, hoping to celebrate its successful mission, never saw it again. The force of the blast rippled through the entire ship, and even the sailors at the bow nearly 200 feet away instantly understood that their vessel would soon be on the ocean floor.Īs the crew scattered to save themselves, the metal hull of the submarine silently disappeared. The submarine had hit its target, punching a lethal blow through the boat’s underbelly. It was part of a crippling Union blockade of Confederate shipping.Ī spray of shattered wood planks burst upward from the deck of the ship. The USS Housatonic arrived in the harbor of Charleston, South Carolina, in September 1862. Rachel Lance will share new details about the lives of the crew members who perished on board the Hunley and answer audience questions in this virtual lecture on October 27 at 7 p.m. Get Tickets for a Smithsonian Magazine Virtual Lecture: Secrets of a Civil War Submarine As the black powder exploded, the copper casing ripped open, releasing the fearsome pressures of explosive black powder into the water and against the wooden hull of the Housatonic. The rod smashed against the pressure-sensitive caps inside the charge, and they released a fiery inferno. The fragile wire holding the rod precariously in place snapped, freeing the coiled energy of the compressed spring that was firmly wrapped around the rod’s body. One of the three thin metal rods protruding from the leading face of the bomb depressed slightly against the wooden hull. HL Hunley pressed its torpedo snugly against the Housatonic’s side. Their cannons weren’t positioned to hit an object so close by and down below, so they attacked with small-arms fire. It took hours to reach the ship.Ī sailor on watch aboard the Housatonic spotted the sliver of dark metal hull exposed above the surface of the water and alerted others, but submarines were new technology and the men did not understand the deadly shape in the water. The Housatonic was just one of many Union ships that had been prowling the waters outside Charleston for months, and tonight, like every other night, the silence was punctuated by the sounds of Union artillery. On the deck of the USS Housatonic, sailors gazed out over a flat sea. ![]() To complete its mission the Hunley would need to approach its target closely, then use this spar to press the charge directly against the side of the enemy’s hull. The torpedoes of the time were simple stationary bombs, very different from the modern, independent devices that can propel themselves through the water from a great distance. A spar made of wood and metal was bolted to a pivot on the bottom corner of the boat’s leading edge, and at the far end of this spar was a copper cylinder the size of a keg: the boat’s torpedo. Its bow carried the source of its destructive power. The submarine had been there for months, practicing for its crucial mission and waiting patiently for flat seas. The HL Hunley was lying in wait to the east of Charleston Harbor, off the coast of South Carolina. The deadlights, with their thick, imperfect, handmade glass, were the only sign that there might be a crew within. The submarine was about 40 feet long, cylindrical down most of its slim length, but with a tapered, wedge-shaped bow and stern that hinted at how quickly it could slice through the water. Pale moonlight glinted off the quiet ocean as small waves lapped against the hull. The dark hull of the submarine rose a few inches above the waterline. ![]()
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