Submarines & COVID-19

As the SCUBA diving officer and safety swimmer aboard my submarine, I was the last person topside and responsible for closing the forward hatch for the final time until our crew resurfaced weeks (or sometimes months) later. I would check the area for debris, wipe down the seal, and watch as the hatch that weighed several hundred pounds slowly cranked shut. In those moments, I would take a final deep breath of fresh air and savor the last seconds of sunlight coming through the closing hatch.

From closing the hatch until resurfacing on our way back home, submarine crews experience a range of emotions not unlike those felt during a quarantine – separation, isolation, fear of the unknown. The following story of one of my underway periods has parallels to the complex emotions felt by many people right now in this age of COVID-19. My submarine was 1 week into a 4-week mission when we received new tasking that was given immediate priority. This new assignment had a vague end date, and we were expected to stay on mission – no surfacing, no restocking supplies, no contact with the outside world except vital communications – until further notice. Our initially planned 4-week underway turned into 5 weeks, then 6-weeks, then 2 months. Every day we woke up wondering if that day would be the final day before we could return to port and reconnect with the outside world. Our crew had completed long underway periods before with no issue; however, the ambiguity surrounding when this mission would end prevented us from counting down the remaining days as usual. There seemed to be no end in sight.

Similarly, the COVID-19 restrictions have taken us by surprise. Vanderbilt students were in class on a Monday in early March and suddenly all classes were shifted online until further notice. Students were asked to quickly vacate campus housing and major events like graduation celebrations, which many counted on as certainties, were cancelled. The end date to all COVID-19 restrictions has been equally ambiguous, surrounded by uncertainty. Will we resume in-person classes this fall? How will the job market look once we graduate? What will normal look like going forward?

Unfortunately, I cannot answer those questions, but I can tell you what I learned through an equally challenging time on my “never-ending” underway. I learned the importance of small wins. I found that even the smallest of celebrations led to huge improvements in crew morale. On submarines, we constantly train for worst case scenarios – fires, flooding, reactor plant casualties. When my team beat our own previous record for response time on an important drill, we celebrated. As you might imagine, resources are limited on a submarine, but I passed around a pack of gum and held a fake award ceremony for things like most-improved and best-communicator. In this quarantine, do not underestimate the power of small wins with your teams and for yourself. Take the time to celebrate finishing a project, passing an exam, or working out for three days in a row.

I also learned the importance of checking in on others – even when they seemed okay. As a crew, we were literally in the same boat, but we still had completely different experiences. For example, the junior members of my team had never been on a deployment, and as such, were processing new emotions around family separation, sleep deprivation, and stress from qualifying. I found that taking a few extra minutes for one-on-one conversations allowed those younger sailors a time to vent about their frustrations, concerns, and doubts and allowed me to step in and show that those emotions were completely normal. Building that type of trust and open dialogue helped them feel connected and helped me become a more effective leader because it allowed me to better understand the mental state of my division. In this quarantine, take the time to reach out to your friends and family. You may not be able to meet in person, but you never know how far a text message, email, or FaceTime call might go in terms of helping someone who feels alone and isolated. This quarantine may not be a submarine, but we are still in this together!

Finally, I learned how important humor can be in challenging, stressful times. For example, our supply officer (SUPPO) was responsible for making sure we had enough supplies, including food, for each underway. My SUPPO had a great sense of humor and was always playing practical jokes on the crew. After we ran out of ice cream on our longer-than-expected underway, the crew took our supply officer’s uniform, soaked it in water, and left it in the freezer. They slipped it back into his stateroom right before he woke up for his shift, and the resulting commentary was hilarious. For a few moments, no one was thinking about how long we had been under water or when we would be home. The entire crew, including the SUPPO, enjoyed telling that story for the rest of deployment. Humor can diffuse tense situations, create welcomed diversions, and improve morale in truly remarkable ways. I know this quarantine is a serious situation, but do not underestimate the powerful effect humor can have on your team and in your life.

Our “never-ending” underway lasted 88 days – just shy of 3 months living on recycled air, purified seawater, and rationed food. Celebrating the small wins, checking in on others, and leveraging humor were crucial in boosting crew morale and have powerful implications during this quarantine as well. My submarine crew made it through that underway a stronger team than ever before, and if we remember that we are in this together, then Vanderbilt University will make it through this quarantine stronger than ever as well.

Stay Safe – Stay Healthy – Anchor Down!