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Ginny's Fury
by Betty Gagne

In July of 1962, Commanding Officer Tom McEnaney had everything under control aboard the USS Somersworth. He and Operations Officer William Devine were a fine team of overseers, and they led a group of sailors to be proud of. However, with a surprise visit from Hurricane Ginny that year, the men faced a challenge that would change their course through Navy life for a very long time.

Somersworth was travelling through deep waters several hundred miles from the Connecticut coast when Ginny hit like a fierce, scornful woman. Desperately trying to stay on course, more trouble hit the crew when the ship snapped a rudder cable, diminishing control over the steering. Somersworth was now a victim travelling parallel to the huge ocean swells, a perilous situation which caused her to rock within the walls of the water with the constant threat of capsizing.

William Devine with his wife, Cookie

"Devine!" Captain McEnaney shouted over the winds and force of the swells, "Have the men chop up the broken cables and tell them to open the after-steering compartment and guide the mechanical trick wheel by hand!"

"Yes, sir!" William Devine ran toward the back of the ship, using his hands against the walls for leverage. Part of his job as Officer of Operations was to ensure the safety of the idle crew. He walked quickly through where some were in their berths and was met with long faces and worried looks. One sailor, who was studying to be a quartermaster, was particularly afraid. He sat on his bunk with wide eyes in an ashen face. "Mr. Devine, am I going to die?" he asked meekly.

"No!" Bill spat out, with a quick glance around the small room. After giving the men their orders on how to maneuver the ship manually, he ran a line from the stern to the pilot house so that McEnaney could communicate with the working crew.

Commanding Officer Tom McEnaney with his wife, Joan

Hours passed. The ship was tossed around like a toy boat in Ginny's relentless force. Bill Devine again made his rounds to ensure the remaining crew was safe and sound. When he again crossed through the berthing compartment, the same sailor who'd spoken before addressed him again. His quartermaster training came through in one jargon-laced question, which he delivered in a shaky voice threaded with unsurity: "Where's the nearest point of land, sir?" he asked Bill.

Bill bit his lip and glared at the man. "Two miles," he yelled, "STRAIGHT DOWN!" When he saw the terrified look on the sailor's face, he spoke calmly. "Now look," he said, "We're either going to die or we're going to live, but whatever the case, we'll do it as a group!!!" Bill made his way back to the pilot house, again holding on to anything to maintain his balance.
Commander McEnaney was frowning as he gazed out at the angry grey swells.
"If I may ask, Sir," Bill said, "How much do you know about hurricanes?"
Tom turned sharp eyes on his Operations Officer. "Only what I learned in OCS (Officer Candidate School)," he answered. He paused, then brightened. "Go to the ward room and read all you can about hurricanes!" he said in a raised voice.
"Yes, sir!" Bill turned and walked quickly away to follow his order.

Forty hours later, after an exhausting and trying journey through angry waters churned by Hurricane Ginny, the USS Somersworth reached her safe harbor in New London.

"It was the work of the crew members who manually worked the rudders through the after-steering compartment that got us through that storm," Bill Devine says today. Tom McEnaney agrees. Both men talk about the experience now with an amusement that only they two can share. Even their wives agree that the incident changed them.

"I wore the finish off my rosary beads after that one," Bill says, shaking his head.

An Englishman in Somersworth
by Betty Gagne

Ken Smith (center) holding drip bottle for injured USS Somersworth sailor

"I'm not a great believer in the power of prayer, but there was a will among these men that allowed them to live." In his thick, unmistakable British accent, Ken Smith of Yorkshire, England, reflects on the harrowing experience of assisting the injured crewmen from the USS Somersworth on July 17th, 1957.
"There were 9 injured, and 3 dead," he says, "and thousands of passengers and crew aboard the Queen
Mary prayed for these men to make it."

Ken, who travelled the furthest distance to attend the USS Somersworth reunion, was a medic on the Queen Mary and was reached by reunion coordinator Ted Frutchey through an internet search. Ken provided a number of photographs and the complete report of the incident from the Queen Mary's ships logs.

Throughout the weekend, Ken's presense was enjoyed at each function. He was teased in a loving way by the relentless Americans, who thought hard for terms from their limited British vocabularies to throw at him - words like "limey," "bloody," and "Brit." But it was all done with undertones of admiration and respect for this English chap whose heroic assitance will always be part of the USS Somersworth's heritage and history.

Ken Smith holding his coveted plaque

Ken Smith was honored at the reunion dinner on Saturday, July 17th at the Gateway Restaurant. He was presented with a plaque on behalf of the crew of the USS Somersworth, citing him for his rescue efforts during the transport of the injured men and their brief stay aboard the Queen Mary.

Singing for the crowd at the Legion

After the dinner, some of the crew went to the American Legion for a nightcap. Ken entertained the group by singing some songs a capella, which gave the weekend a nice finish on a happy note.

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