A one year overhaul and a productive Med. Deployment

Ted Fijak had an especially challenging first year of command. The top ASW ship headed for a major overhaul in Bath, Maine. The ship was stripped down and the crew readied for a major relocation: eight months temporary housing in Bath followed a homeport relocation from Norfolk, VA to Newport, RI. As the ship was put into dry-dock and the sandblasting started, the a ship's offices were established in a former retail store in downtown Bath, housing was setup in barracks or apartments and most of the crew were sent off to a variety of training schools

After six months, more than 50% of the crew had rotated to new jobs elsewhere and there were many new faces and personalities. The challenge for Ted was to rebuild a cohesive crew while unable to go to sea. This task was made more difficult since the eight month scheduled overhaul was extended to one year due to yard delays. Finally, in June 1979, the USS Connole left Maine, stopped at the Navy Supply Depot in Earle, NJ to supply and re-arm, and sailed into her new homeport at Newport, RI greeted by many happy families. The ship spent the next six months in preparation and training for a Mediterranean deployment.

Ted Fijak's personal story follows:

If there's one word that could be applied to my 22 months in command it would "snagged." The day after assuming command, I got CONNOLE underway for special ASW operations in the Caribbean. For 2 days I was unable to snag my helicopter due to airframe problems. The helo flew the length of the east coast before giving up as we rounded the Florida Keys. Somewhere before dawn of my 3rd day at sea, two of CONNOLE's olympic swimming rejects decided the coastal lights of Key West were just too magnetic to resist and decided to take some early liberty. Unfortunately for them, the sailboat they threw over the side went straight to the bottom and their liberty was spent floating in life jackets. Eleven hours later CONNOLE was just beginning to coordinate a sea/air search effort when the 55 Edgar Queenie responded to our bridge-to-bridge call that they were stopped to snag two half drowned sailors. Thank God for that happy ending. Very quickly I felt fully initiated into the awesome responsibilities of command!

About 3 days later we were supposed to be patrolling in an area off the Yucatan Peninsula when suddenly our ASW tail became our best functioning navigation aid by snagging a sea mount 45 miles from where we were supposed to be. Thanks to the glancing blow that the fish sustained, we were able to recover our half drowned sonar.

Surprised to still be in command, I headed for home to the inglorious job of stripping down the ship to prepare for overhaul. Six weeks later, CONNOLE sailed for its overhaul at Bath Iron Works. As we cleared the channel, dense fog snagged the ship and remained glued to us for 4 days. The entire trip was made at 18-20 knots without one visual sighting. On the day of our scheduled arrival we were rejected at the mouth of the Kennebec by a very wise river pilot. So we steamed holes in the ocean overnight and arrived at the appointed spot next morning only to be rejected again. Very low on fuel, we were diverted to Portland, a whole hour and a half steaming time away. At Portland, the pilot boat literally snagged a bow line and said, "follow me." We never saw the pier visually until the shotlines were ready to go over. Not surprising the label "Foggy Fijak" came into existence on this trip.

The next 12 months CONNOLE was busy finishing up an 8 month overhaul in beautiful downtown Bath, Maine.

I would say that the high point of the overhaul was the reunion of Rickart A. Connole and his family with USS CONNOLE and its family, after about 10 year absence of direct communication. The reunion flourishes to this day.

Back to my snag sage. Near the end of the overhaul, shipyard personnel appeared to snag our port anchor trying to house it, thereby overstressing and breaking the shank and dropping the greater portion of the anchor into the Kennebec. Later we found out it was a weakened modification that did in the shank. Our next snag was performed by a dock force Boatswain's Mate. This event started when crewmen cut the line to unfold our overboard rescue ...... only to find that the bitter end was not tied off so over the side went the whole net. The whaleboat, which had been circling with the rescue crew, was called in to retrieve the net. Only the coxswain overshot the approach and snagged it with the boat's screw so I watched the entire SNAFU drift upstream in the 7 knot current and disappear underneath the Carlton Bridge. Luckily, several members of the deck force jumped into a truck and were able to snag the whaleboat with a line thrown from shore somewhere upstream.

My next memorable event occured on the GITMO weapons range. We were shooting a missile (BPDMS) at a drone towed sleeve. Only the missile jumped targets at the last second and I snagged the whole drone, much to the chagrin of range personnel but the delight of topside sailors.

Upon arrival in Naples, I was faced with my first Med-moor in 20 years at sea. I'd heard they could be difficult to accomplish. Ha! Our keel anchor went down in the center of the harbor OK and we backed our stern to the breakwater with no problem. Then an Italian tug maneuvered under our bow to receive our port anchor. Well it seems we got a replacement anchor from the same defective lot as the previous one. This time I snagged the bottom after the anchor parted and the lower half had safely bounced off the tug's stern. We were lucky that no one was killed.

We completed the moor with an anchor quickly borrowed from our foreign hosts. About 3 days later I was sitting in my cabin when the entire ship shuddered and rolled to starboard. It seems that a U.S. sub had moored the day before and snagged her anchor over ours. Upon trying to get underway, the sub tried unsuccessfully to pull us along to sea. Instead, they missed getting underway until the Italians could pull the chains up and free them. The submarine C.O. didn't appreciate my surface warfare humor when I sent him a "Gotcha" memo. A month later the scene was repeated when a Greek ferry snagged our chain while maneuvering into the berth next to us in Athens.

To end this memorable saga, our crew was quite pleased and proud to "snag" 7 Russian and 1 French sub with our tail sonar in two months of Mediterranean patrol operations."