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THE FIRST 200+ YEARS
Always beleaguered, the Portsmouth Naval Shipyard is again battling to steer
clear of the federal base closure list. While its days may be numbered, its history
is assured. One of the longest surviving shipyards in America, PNY has been making
headlines and working hard for America since 1800..
SEE: Early postcards of the Shipyard
Around here people just call it "The Yard. " It was built on islands once used
for drying fish. Today, more than 200 years old, the Portsmouth-Kittery Naval
Shipyard is still pumping iron. Considered by many to be the nation's very first
federal shipyard, PNS has weathered a turbulent transition from sail, to steam,
to atomic fuel. Now dedicated to the overhaul and repair of modern submarines,
"The Yard" has two centuries of stories to tell.
George Washington visited the spot of the future federal shipyard during his
visit in 1789. Yet officially, PNS was created on June 17, 1800. Under President
Thomas Jefferson, the fledgling United States purchased two islands in the Piscataqua.
This was the best spot on the New England coastline, according to the new Navy
Department, to built American warships. The bad news: the rocky harbor was subject
to fog, possessed a very rapid current and could be navigated safely only at high
tide. The good news: the area was close to the sea, yet could be heavily fortified
on both the New Hampshire and Maine sides. Even better, Fernald's and Dennett's
islands off Kittery cost only $5,500.
Another Piscataqua advantage, according to the official 1798 government report,
was the abundance of skilled craftsmen already living in the area. That's because
Piscataqua shipbuilders had already been making warships for the government for
over a century the English king, that is.
In fact, The Falkland, commissioned here in 1690 for His Majesty's Royal Navy
is considered the first British warship built in the colonies. That honor fell
to the Piscataqua because it was, at that time, heavily forested with trees ideal
for masts and planking. Indeed, it was for the trees and fish that John Smith,
one of the most famous New World mariners of all time, suggested settling this
region during his visit in 1614.
It was the impending War of 1812 with England that sparked the building of navy
yards here and elsewhere. The first ship built at the yard was named Washington,
but was not launched until 1815. Yet by this time Piscataqua shipbuilders had
already distinguished themselves in the American Revolution.
The Raleigh, built in just 60 days at nearby Badger's Island was among the first 13 original frigates ordered by
the Continental Congress the year before. The private contract went in 1776 to
Portsmouth's John Langdon who had helped lead the successful raid against the
nearby British Fort William and Mary in 1774. Langdon was then contracted to build
the 18-gun sloop of war Ranger, famous for its 1778 solo raid on Britain under
Capt. John Paul Jones. Jones returned to Portsmouth and engineered the launch of America in 1782,
then the largest and heaviest ship ever built on this continent.
Piscataqua builders were called on four more times to construct warships for
the Continental Navy, among them the sloop Portsmouth and the frigate Congress,
both launched before the sale of the federal navy yard in 1800. Congress was a
sister ship to the famous Constellation, Philadelphia and Constitution contracted
to other early American shipyards.
Ironically, the man who became famous as commander of the Constitution, Admiral
Isaac Hull, was in charge when enemy cannon balls bounced off "Old Ironsides" in the War of 1812. The very next year, Hull was placed in command of PNS. Ironsides
herself was at Portsmouth Yard in the 1850s for a refit. Photographs of the Constitution
here are among the very first images in the U.S. Naval Archives.
The rise and fall of shipyard activity were tied to the nation's war efforts
and appropriation of federal funds. From the Civil War, Spanish-American War,
two world wars through the Cold War, PNS production rose and fell like a tall
ship on a heavy sea, towing the local economy in its wake. Set on what were once
rocky islands where locals collected wild berries, PNS grew and evolved through
the 19th century into a serious federal facility. Luxurious officer's quarters
and modern housing for enlisted men sprang up and large buildings identified only
by numbers dotted the landscape. The gigantic Franklin Building, built in 1828
was the largest shipbuilding structure anywhere.
High-tech in the Civil War era meant the evolution of steam powered battleships,
the arrival of the railroad, research into submersible and ironclad vessels and
the construction of a massive "floating drydock."
The Kearsarge, best known of the Portsmouth-built vessels from this time, was
half-steamboat, half-sailing ship. Its defeat of the Confederate ship Alabama,
said to have attacked 65 "Yankee" vessels, was a key battle in maritime history.
Then, as now, The Yard defended itself against civilian attacks and threatened
base closures. As the nation geared up for civil war, New Hampshire Senator John
P. Hale waged a very public battle against what he considered spiraling graft
and inflated military expenses at PNS.
Still the yard survived, and thrived at times, as Congress allowed expansion
and modernization. By 1878, PNS was connected to Portsmouth by underwater telephone
lines. By 1882 "Old Ironsides" was back in town for a 15-year stay. Cabbed over
and preserved from destruction, the famous tall ship essentially became a floating
dormitory for cadets and visiting seamen. As the century and the Spanish American
War ended, 1,300 prisoners were encamped on the federal islands. Guidebooks published
photos and tourists paddled by hoping to catch the Spanish prisoners washing their
clothes on the banks of the Piscataqua. And it was about this time that J. P.
Holland, an inventor of the modern submarine, was photographed during a test in
the same deep river. A new era for PNS was on the horizon.
The 20th century arrived with a bang. Henderson's Point blew up on July 22, 1905 in what was then the largest dynamite explosion of all time.
The explosion and dredging made the harbor viable for a whole new breed of underwater
warships. That same year Portsmouth became a synonym for "peace" when the long
tragic conflict between Russia and Japan ended here. Today the Navy Yard, the
Rockingham and Wentworth-by-the-Sea hotels are important historic sites for visiting Japanese tourists interested in the
Treaty of Portsmouth.
A few years later, with the completion of the enormous military jail at PNS,
Portsmouth also became a synonym for "prison." Housing a maximum of 3,000 military
prisoners in WWII, the deactivated building still hunkers at the end of the island
like a fantasy castle. The Jack Nicholson film "Last Detail" is the story of one
convicted man on a journey toward "the worst place on earth."
In April 1917 the first submarine built at a naval shipyard was launched at Portsmouth
Harbor. Named simply L-8, it was the first and only submarine to serve in World
War 1. During the war things were changing at PNS too. Photographs show an increasing
population of women working as yeoman, and in a wide-range of manufacturing jobs.
At this time New Hampshire shipyard workers, male and female were still commuting
across the river to the yard by ferry. That changed in 1923 when a memorial bridge,
dedicated to those lost in WWI, finally created a connecting roadway between the
neighboring states. A 5-year-old girl named Eileen Dondero, whose mother would
become the city's first woman mayor, was on hand to cut the ribbon, opening interstate
traffic. That girl too grew up to become mayor of Portsmouth, and an ally of the
naval shipyard.
Over the next few decades, PNS experienced its greatest triumphs and tragedies.
In 1936 a hellish blaze signaled the end of the massive, century-old Franklin
Shiphouse. Two years later, the Portsmouth-built sub Squalus sank in 243 feet of water five miles off the Isles of Shoals. Using an experimental
diving bell system, 33 men were saved, but 26 lost their lives.
Through both world wars, PNS production was unsurpassed by any other naval submarine
facility. Theodore Roosevelt stopped by aboard the presidential yacht for a friendly
inspection. Three years later, in 1943, Portsmouth set a record with four launchings
in a single day. The durable sub Sand Lance took 100 Japanese depth charges and
survived to fight again. In 1945, Seacoast residents spotted German U boats in
the Piscataqua. A number of Nazi subs arrived here to surrender and, as the war
ground to a conclusion, many Seacoast citizens got a close look at the enemy for
the first time.
War ended, even as war technology escalated. The age of atomic-powered submarines
arrived, epitomized in the early 1950s by the un-armed research vessel Albacore.
The plucky new teardrop design was fully submersible, set new underwater speed
records and redefined the shape of things to come for modern submarines. Then
came Thresher. In 1963 the newly designed submarine was lost at sea in 8,400 feet
of water with 129 souls aboard. One-hundred forty nine children were left fatherless
by the greatest tragedy in local history.
Another Sand Lance had the distinction in 1969 of being the last of 134 subs
built at the Portsmouth-Kittery Navy Yard. Then, with the fear of base closure
hovering like a New England storm front, PNS set about the job of reinventing
itself once more. Now a recognized leader in repair of nuclear-powered submarines,
the base has down-sized to half of what was an 8,000 member work force.
And so the turbulent ride continues. In a time of tightly-watched military expenditure,
the concept of "outleasing" has kept PNS business alive in partnership with private
companies. Commercial use of the naval prison building are being explored, but
security has been tight since the tragedy of 9/11. New Hampshire and Maine continued
to wage a legal battle over which state the navy yard is actually located in,
but the Supreme Court recently settled that score. "The Yard" is definitely in
Maine. The border controversy that began in the days of British rule is finally
over. Despite the squabbles, locals remain proud of a shipbuilding tradition that
spans five centuries -- and just sails on.
Copyright © 2000 by J. Dennis Robinson. Updated in 2005.
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