In March 1984, I was Commanding Officer, USS HADDO (SSN 604).
We were scheduled to made a 1500 arrival at the Royal Canadian Naval Base in Esquimalt, B.C.
Fearing intrusion of fog, so prevalent in this part of the world, I had sprinted ahead to ensure an on-time arrival. The weather remained beautiful all day and thus I arrived several hours early. Taking advantage of a sunny spot, we coasted to a stop and watched the festivities of a local sailing regatta.
I became concerned when one of the smaller boats broke out of the pack and took dead aim at my bow. As the vessel closed, it became clear that the crew was a lone, white-haired lady intent on close inspection of our strange looking ship. From my vantage point atop the sail I watched her as she carefully circled the submarine at fairly close quarters, returning to a position close to my bow. I feared she might be one of a vocal minority in that part of the world who protested the visit of nuclear powered submarines.
Deliberately she cut out into the wind, stopped her progress and raised a small hand-held megaphone to her lips.
I was prepared for the worst. I was in command of an awesome warship, with thousands of propulsion horsepower on call, armed to the teeth with weapons of unspeakable destruct power, yet cringed at the prospects of a confrontation with a lone grandmother.
My relief was palpable when her words merely reflected the duties of one mariner to another: "Can I offer you a tow?"
She obviously mistook my idleness for a casualty. I politely declined, advising her that I was merely awaiting an appointment with a local pilot.
She waved and sailed off to rejoin her companions - with a great tale of the one that got away.
~ CAPT R.D. Raaz, USN
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