Thomas Grant Dey: The HMS K13 Accident

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Thomas Grant Dey was born in 1882 in Beith, Ayrshire and died in 1948.

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The K13 Submarine Accident

It was on 27th January 1917 that the above vessel left Fairfield Basin, Govan to go to the Gareloch for diving trials. On the way down, she had two minor mishaps. First when leaving the Guilders Basin, a mooring wire got foul of her propellers and she was delayed for half an hour till the yard diver cleared it. Secondly when about 300 yards below Whiteinch Ferry she grounded for a few moments but as she was going down river on a rising tide, she soon freed herself. Proceeding to the Gareloch she completed very satisfactorily all her diving tests. The Admiralty and Fairfield Officials were highly delighted with the manner in which she had behaved. They all praised the grand new machine. Included in Fairfield’s official party were Sir Alexander Gracie, the Chairman of the Firm, Mr Hugh M. McMillan, Managing Director, Mr Percy Hillhouse, the famous Naval architect.

The submarine was under the command of Commander Herbert, a very efficient Naval Officer, who I believe had escaped from a sunken submarine off the coast of Harwich. On her trials on the firth and Gareloch she was under the charge of an old experienced Clyde pilot, Captain Duncan. All the trials and tests were completed shortly after 2pm and the signal was passed around "All Diving Trials finished for the day". Several of the Fairfield officials left the vessel. About this time Captain Goodheart, the commanding Officer of another submarine, came aboard. Just before 3pm she submerged in deep water above Shandon and she failed to come to the surface. Through some mistake, which is unknown to the writer, she had dived with two ventilators in the after part of the vessel wide open. The engine room and the after part of the vessel immediately filled with water. Luckily for the men in the forward portion, the engine room watertight door was closed and it confined the water to the after compartments. I believe Mr William Struthers, who was assistant manager, took the risk of going along the passage to see that the door was properly bolted, a very gallant action under critical conditions.

Unfortunately 39 men lost their lives. They included Fairfield foremen and engineers and naval personnel. Amongst them a very clever and promising Engineer Manager, Mr Steel. Two engineers had a very lucky escape, Donald Hood of Fairfield staff and Mr Chathburn, the telegraph people engineer, and an engineer whose name at the meantime I have forgotten, had gone forward to ease and oil the forward torpedo shutter. It had been a little stiff on trials and they went to adjust it. It was certainly a lucky bit of trouble for them, for they were the only members of the Engine Room staff to come out alive.

When she made the fatal dive an officer on another ship had watched and he thought all was not right in the way she had gone under, so with great thought and wonderful intuition, he lashed a weight onto a ship’s grating and put it above the spot where he saw her submerge. It was a good thing he did so, for it saved valuable time in looking for the stricken ship. I had gone to bed early, telling my wife I wanted a good sleep for I was working excessive overtime and was feeling pretty tired. At that time I had been for a few years Assistant Foreman Shipwright on Warship Construction.

Shortly after midnight I was roused by a messenger at the door telling me to report to the yard immediately. I had no idea what was wrong or why I was wanted and the man at the door could not tell me. Hurrying to the yard, I was given the fatal news but I was warned to keep it a secret. A rescue party was collected, comprising of two Shipwrights, two Riggers and 3 labourers. They were the pick of the best men in the shipyard. We collected tools, wire hawsers, timber etc and put them aboard an armed tug boat that had been ordered to call at Fairfield for them. We set off for the Gareloch shortly after 6am with this exhortation from Mr Alan Aitken, Head Foreman Shipwright, "Do your best to save these fellows lives and I know you won’t let them down."

On the way down the River, we called at Clydebank and collected heavy log timber and took it in tow. When we arrived at the spot in the loch, some distance above Shandon, we found two salvage vessels moving into position. They were the “Ranger” and her sister ship, under the command of Lieutenant Commander McKay, who was Commodore Young, the Naval Salvage expert’s Chief of Staff and what a man he was. Nothing was too trying or difficult for him and I never met a man with such boundless energy. He never seemed to tire. In no time he had his naval divers over the side and on the top of the sunken submarine. We could follow every movement of them by the bubbles on the water, created by the escaping air in the Headgear. I have often wondered if the survivors of K13 realised how much they owed to these brave, resourceful men. I often look back and think on these gallant fellows. They hardly took time off for meals. They had a job to do and they were determined to do it. One of them took his heavy hand hammer down and rapped it on the hull to let the imprisoned men know (if any were alive) that help was on the way. They then proceeded to make the only outboard connection on the hull that was made, namely the Diver’s Connection. This is a hole about 6 inch diameter bore with a flange connection inside the hull of the submarine. It allows small bottles of stimulant, chocolate, food etc to be passed down to the imprisoned men and this was eventually done in this case.

Somewhere around 11am I saw a great commotion in the water, just like a pot boiling. I knew it was air escaping that was causing it and it was such a volume that I thought they had at last managed to release the Drop Keel Blocks on the keel and that the ship was freeing herself but my conclusions were wrong. It was no such luck, for, in the midst of the commotion, a man’s head and shoulders suddenly appeared. It was Commander Herbert. His first words to us, before we pulled him into a boat were "Have you seen Commander Goodheart?" and, of course, we had to say "no". He replied "Well, he should have been here. We both left the submarine together."

Captain Herbert was clad only in a shirt and a pair of socks, a very scanty dress for the icy cold waters of the Gareloch in the month of January. Poor Goodheart failed to come to the surface, for, in making the attempt to escape, his head had come in contact with a beam and he had perished. The escape was made through the Conning Tower Hatch. Herbert got clear but Goodheart had missed the opening. In less than a quarter of an hour, Commander Herbert was out working like a Trojan in a suit of borrowed clothes. His help and advice was invaluable. He gave us an indication of how may men were alive, their actual position and how things were in general in the interior of the vessel. It had been decided upon, after consultation inside the submarine with the officials and leading ratings, that the two Commanders would try to come to the surface to give the rescue party the data they so badly required.

By this time the Clyde Trust Hoppers, numbers 7 and 10 had arrived on the scene to lend a helping hand. Wires were passed from ship to ship under the bow of K13 and, when all were in position and made fast, they were hauled taut. They began to keep a very heavy hauling strain on them. This was kept up the remainder of the day on the Tuesday and all night and it was heartbreaking that there was no sign of any movement. We were beginning to think it was a hopeless task , every man jack of us doing his utmost and all were praying that some kind of miracle would happen , to set the stricken ship free but miracles just don’t happen that way and our quarry seemed to be sucked down too deep in the mud, plus the weight of water inside her.

None of our men left their posts, so keen were we to see the men saved. We kept up our heaving strain on the wires, all day on the Wednesday. In fact so great was the strain that some of the wires snapped. On the Wednesday evening, as dusk was coming down, I thought I could detect a little cross swell on the water but It just may have been imagination, except that I have a pretty keen eye where movements of ships are taking place. I was taking depth soundings with my sounding rod, when I realized there was a slight movement taking place. I did not say anything until I was absolutely certain and most of the Naval people were away to mess rooms for a little food. When I realized that K13 was gradually coming to the surface, it was the only time in my busy life in shipbuilding that I got really excited. I got so excited and also intoxicated with sheer joy that I nearly fell overboard into the Loch. I shouted at the pitch of my voice "Boys, she’s coming up!"

I think they thought the strain had taken my senses but no, there she was. Six inches of her nose showing, now it was feet and finally we got her to an angle of I would roughly say, 10 degrees. She was showing about 16 or 18 feet of her hull along the water line. Now was the time when great care had to be taken in steadying the supporting ships because a slight movement would have meant wires were slipping and the vessel plunging to her doom but Commander McKay knew his job thoroughly and he soon had her just the way he wanted her. There was no time to lose and a blessing there was no wind or swell on the water, a very unusual thing for the Gareloch in the winter months.

A hole was immediately cut on the top of the hull and through the bulkhead and shortly after 11pm the 46 survivors escaped, after being entombed for 57 hours. There was no sign of panic or jostling to get out. It was a great pleasure to see our friends, Mr Percy Hillhouse, Naval Architect, Mr William McLean, the greatest Shipwright the Clyde has ever produced, Mr Fred Skinner, Electrical Manager and Messrs Bullen and Struthers, Assistant Managers.

It was amazing to see the cool, calm heroism shown by these survivors. Captain Duncan, the 64 year old Clyde Pilot’s first words to me were, "Hello, What part of the Loch were we actually in?"

Mr Edward Skinner, Fairfield Electrical Manager, said to me, when he came out, "Hello Tam. You will be thinking it was you chaps outside that saved us but it wasnae. It was my wee machines."

"That’s alright, Mr Skinner," I replied "but I wonder what all those heavy wires are on the fore end for!"

It was amusing to see a pair of boots coming up through the hole and then a naval rating would appear. Out would come an alarm clock and then another naval rating. The Admiralty Overseer, in white overalls, with his torch and notebook in his breast pockets and his chamon gloves in his hand, just as you see them coming out of a tank in a shipyard, after an inspection.

During the time we were so busy in the Gareloch, the Fairfield yard, Govan was also busy constructing and building an escape shaft or tube. A squad of men under the leadership of the late Tom Paul, Iron Manager, worked night and day without rest to complete it and sent it down to us but it never got past Helensburgh. When I was told by Mr McMillan, Managing Director, who was on the spot all the time, that such an escape tube was coming down, I just could not see how it could be fitted to the vessel. The vessel was in 98 feet of murky water. Time and tide was the greatest factor in the men’s salvation. Steadying such a tube, keeping it in position, drilling holes to fix it, keeping it watertight and then cut a hole to let the men have access to it, would all have been challenging tasks and if the water got into the Battery tanks, it would mean that gassing would take place and it would gather a volume of water in the erection that we could not get rid of. It was utterly impossible to attempt t0 do anything with it. In theory, in the drawing office bench, it was alright but in the murky, swirling waters of the Gareloch, it would be a different matter. I think the idea was Sir Alexander Gracie’s and some Naval experts. On a puffer on the way up to Helensburgh, I explained and pointed out all these difficulties to Mr McMillan and I was delighted to hear him say "You are quite right, Dey. It can’t be done." And he ordered it to be returned to the Yard without even taking the castings off it. It was a good job we had a man with the experience and the courage to condemn what his boss and so called Naval expert had created. Recently, I read in the Glasgow papers of a diver who claimed to have fitted a shaft on K13 and thereby saved 40 lives. It was an untruth. I have no recollection if him being nearer the scene than at least 20 miles away.

Quite a number of the men who survived this unhappy ordeal have passed away but some are now enjoying a well- earned retirement. Although it is nearly 31 years since it happened I will never forget the scenes in the Gareloch on these 3 eventful days.

One peculiar incident happened when we went to the scene of the disaster. A servant girl in one of the big houses reported that she had seen two men coming out the submarine as she sank. She said both swam some distance before disappearing from view. No-one paid any heed to her, thinking it was only her imagination running riot with her but when the K13 was finally brought to the surface nearly seven weeks later, it was discovered that Mr Steel, Manager of the Engine Department and the Chief Naval Engineer of K13 were both missing. One of their bodies was recovered and identified several months later.

Although it was supposed to be kept secret, when I came into Craigendoran Station , late on Thursday afternoon, on my way home, I met an elderly lady from the extreme south of England wanting to know if her only son was saved. I told her the truth, when I said I did not know , as we were not acquainted with the names of the Naval ratings but I learned later that he had been drowned. But how did she get to know of the accident?

K13 was raised and brought back to the yard. She was thoroughly overhauled and re-christened K22 and I believe she did grand service before being finally broken up.

Arthur Smith, Foreman Electrician, who was saved off the Empress of Ireland when she sank, was Foreman in charge of K13 and should have gone with her on trials but he turned ill and another Foreman, Frank Treate, took his place and he lost his life.

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