|
![]() What's your local maritime IQ?
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.
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.
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.
The Kearsage, 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.
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."
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 is being explored. Meanwhile, New Hampshire and Maine wage a legal battle over which state the navy yard is actually located on. It's a controversy that harkens to the days of British rule. But this year, as work at "The Yard" continues, it's hard not to be proud of a shipbuilding tradition that spans five centuries -- and just sails on.
By J. Dennis Robinson See early postcards from the Navy Yard Copyright © 2000 SeaciastNH.com. All rights reserved
[ History Themes | Early Images | Site Map | Talk | Search | What's New ]
|