It happened one foggy night at a rocky Pacific bluff called Honda. One after another, nine destroyers of the United States Navy rammed the state of California.
Seven of the "four-stackers," or "tin cans," eventually broke up. Two backed off and limped away. Twenty-three sailors were killed. Almost 800 officers and crew members survived. Some officers were penalized and many men commended for their rescue efforts in treacherous seas.
Largely forgotten, the accident Sept. 8, 1923, remains one of the darkest -- and most heroic -- in peacetime Navy history.
In simple terms, the incident occurred when the lead ship in a group of 14 destroyers, USS Delphy, made a wrong turn. Its navigators, in those days before radar, thought they were farther south and in deeper water. The trailing ships responded in the "follow the leader" fashion of destroyer tactics. Five saw danger in time to veer seaward to safety.
"Incomprehensible" was the reaction of Secretary of the Navy Edwin Denby, as reported in The Sun. The nation seemed to agree. For weeks, the naval disaster was front-page news in almost every paper in the country.
Three-quarters of a century later, an anniversary memorial service will be held Sept. 8 at Honda to honor the dead and the living. Veterans, military personnel and families will gather for lunch at Vandenberg Air Force Base, north of Los Angeles, then drive for the ceremony to nearby Honda, which is now part of the base.
At least two survivors of the accident are alive, but are unable to attend because of ill health. Both wished the gathering well. Their memories remain vivid.
Harry C. Crawford, 94, of Forest Grove, Ore., was a fireman 3rd class on the USS Farragut. "I was in the fire room when we hit the rocks," he says. "I thought we had hit another ship. We were able to pull away."
Gene Bruce, 91, of North Hollywood, Calif., was a seaman 2nd class on the USS Chauncey. "Our ship hit another ship," he says. "It was ripped open when it hit the Young. It got washed up on the rocks. We had a comparatively easier time than the others."
Stan Golowski, 67, a retired Marine Corps captain from Gilbert, Ariz., hopes to preserve memories as a member of the Point Honda Memorial Search Committee. He is searching nationally for survivors, kin, friends and interested parties who know about the incident.
"There may be more survivors," he says, "since over 800 escaped and lived to sail another day."
Golowski enlisted in the quest to honor the 23 dead after he learned that their names were omitted from Honda memorials, which preserve the anchor of the Chauncey and a plaque naming the seven lost ships. One of the dead, August Zakrzewski of Omaha, Neb., a fireman 2nd class aboard the USS Young, was Golowski's distant cousin.
"The names stirred me; we must remember them," Golowski says.
The tragedy's setting, west of Santa Barbara, holds the remains of hundreds of broken ships. The site, locally called Honda, is listed on maps as Point Pedernales, a rocky promontory jutting into the sea three miles north of another, Point Arguello.
Spanish sailors called Honda "the devil's jaw" and the area offshore "the graveyard of the Pacific." Others refer to the "jinns of Honda," referring either to supernatural spirits inhabiting the forbidding volcanic cliffs, or the wind, waves, fog, current and rocks that imperil mariners.
"Wreckage is everywhere," says diver Tim Waag, who has written that the destroyers' propellers, deck guns, boilers and twisted wreckage can be seen below the surface.
After a summer of maneuvers along the northern California coast, the 14 destroyers in Squadron 11 left San Francisco at 8: 30 a.m. Sept. 8, 1923, bound for their home port of San Diego 427 miles away.
The destroyers -- each 314 feet long, 32 feet wide and displacing 1,250 tons -- were fast. They could make 32 knots, and on this voyage would cruise at 20 knots (23 miles per hour). In wartime, they fought submarines, escorted convoys and made torpedo attacks as "the cavalry of the sea."
They steamed in columns, the ships at least 250 yards apart. On the bridge of the Delphy, the flagship and lead vessel, were Capt. Edward H. Watson, the commodore of the squadron, and Lt. Cmdr. Donald T. Hunter, commanding the ship.
In their 1960 book, "Tragedy at Honda," one of at least four about the incident, Charles A. Lockwood, a retired Navy vice admiral, and Hans Christian Adamson, a retired Air Force colonel, wrote of the final minutes.
Fog had reduced visibility to just over a mile, a condition that was not unusual. The Delphy took bearings at 6: 30 p.m. and 8 p.m. from the new radio direction-finder station at Point Arguello. The signals put the ships northwest of Arguello and Honda.
However, the officers did not believe the bearings. Dead reckoning told them they were to the south of Point Arguello and west of Point Conception, where the coast veers to the east, or left, toward the Santa Barbara Channel, which they planned to enter to proceed to San Diego.
The officers did not slow to take soundings, and the 13 other destroyers did not question the Delphy or take soundings of their own. If they had, they would have discovered that they were in shallow water near the coast, not miles at sea.
At 9 p.m., the Delphy turned left, as did some of the 13 other ships. At 20 knots, they were making 11 yards a second.
Five minutes later, the Delphy's officers heard scraping, felt bumps and then a terrific jolt. They had crashed head-on into the reefs near shore.
In less than five minutes, one by one, the destroyers S. P. Lee, Young, Woodbury, Nicholas, Farragut, Fuller, Somers and Chauncey rammed the shore, shoals or each other in an area just 500 yards by 800 yards. Most officers thought they had grounded on San Miguel Island 30 miles to the southeast.
Farragut and Somers pulled back. Five other ships turned right or made other maneuvers to safety. Disaster, confusion and heroics were to follow.
The Young was the vessel in most acute peril and had one of the more dramatic rescues. The ship rolled over in 90 seconds, showing only 18 inches above water. Twenty of its crew were among the 23 who died. Three men of the Delphy died. Six bodies were never found.
Chief Boatswain's Mate Arthur Peterson of the Young jumped into the roiling sea and swam 100 yards to the Chauncey. A heavier line was fixed, and a lifeboat plied back and forth 11 times between the ships. More than 30 officers and crew members of the Young were saved. Peterson and scores of others were cited for leadership and bravery in rescuing shipmates.
A court of inquiry found that the disaster was due to "bad errors of judgment" and "faulty navigation" on the Delphy. It held that the other ships had "too-blind faith" in the squadron commander and "too-little initiative" in finding their own positions.
General courts-martial found Watson and Hunter guilty of culpable inefficiency and negligence; they lost the chance for further promotion. A guilty verdict for a third officer was set aside. Eight others were exonerated. The Navy secretary and judge advocate general disapproved of the not-guilty verdicts, but there was no further action.
For more information, call Maj. John E. Cherry, Vandenberg AFB, (805) 734-8232, Ext. 63595.
Pub Date: 7/30/98