Going Nuclear

Built at the Electric Boat Shipyard in Groton, Connecticut, Nautilus was launched January 21, 1954, after years of lobbying by Admiral Hyman Rickover, today known as the father of the nuclear navy. Rickover saw the Nautilus, named for the fictional submarine in Jules Verne's Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea, as the test bed for a fleet of undersea boats that could stay submerged for weeks at a time and loiter undetected off hostile shorelines.

Over the next several years the Nautilus set numerous speed and endurance records. In August and September 1957 she traveled some 1,200 nautical miles under polar pack ice and came within 200 miles of the North Pole as part of a research expedition to investigate the possibility of an undersea Northwest Passage. Word of the journey reached the White House through an offhand Pentagon conversation between the Nautilus's captain, Commander William R. Anderson, and Eisenhower's naval aide, Captain Evan Peter Aurand. Eisenhower and his staff immediately saw the implications.

Caption: Nautilus, shown here during her initial sea trial on January 20, 1955, normally carried a crew of twelve officers and ninety enlisted personnel and had a publicly acknowledged submerged speed of "at least" twenty-three knots. Her official crush depth remains secret, although she routinely operated at 700 feet and deeper. General Photographic File of the Department of the Navy, 1943-1958; General Records of the Department of the Navy, 1804-1958; Record Group 80; National Archives.

The Dark Secrets of Operation Sunshine

In 1958 the Nautilus was on the cutting edge of Arctic Ocean exploration. Despite decades of surface exploration, the ocean underneath the ice cap remained a mystery. Almost nothing was known of the seabed topography, ice cap circulation patterns, or even how ice thickness varied during the year. The sub's ability to stay submerged for weeks at a time and the sophisticated instruments she carried made Nautilus the ideal research vehicle to determine the region's military potential.

She was also the ideal vehicle for a serious nose-thumbing to the Soviet Union in President Eisenhower's eyes, and he personally ordered Anderson to attempt the polar transit. The expedition was dubbed Operation Sunshine to mislead the curious, and each time the submarine left port naval officers let word slip that she was bound for Panama or Guam. As soon as the Nautilus was at sea, her crew painted out the sub's identifying hull numbers and insignia in case she was sighted by Soviet vessels.

Caption: The Nautilus traveled almost exclusively underwater on her trip over the Pole between Pearl Harbor and Iceland, operated from the cramped control room beneath the conning tower. Undated photo, Submarine Force Museum.

Not Even a Trail of Bread Crumbs

Arctic explorers both on and under the ice had long known that magnetic and gyroscopic compasses performed erratically or not at all near the Pole — one reason for the controversy over Robert Peary's claim to have reached the Pole in 1909. Once Nautilus dropped under the ice pack, those weaknesses raised the real danger that the sub could get lost. Anderson and his crew depended upon an innovative and experimental inertial navigation system originally designed for the Air Force's Navajo missile. Anderson later admitted considerable skepticism about the device, since it had never been used in a ship before. "A lot of debugging had to be done at first," he said. He came to appreciate the new system as it guided Nautilus unerringly through the Arctic Ocean to the Pole.

The new navigation and sonar systems allowed Anderson and his crew to sail along the Chukchi Plateau and over the Lomonosov Ridge with ease. In fact, once in the Arctic Ocean the Nautilus saw surprisingly smooth sailing. The crew enjoyed first-run movies and a free jukebox while the scientists aboard charted previously known ocean floor features, including huge mountains and deep canyons.

Caption: Eisenhower aide James Hagerty put together a map of the Nautilus's voyage for his boss soon after the trip ended. Eisenhower Archives, Nautilus documents, James Hagerty Papers, Box 7, Nautilus. http://eisenhower.archives.gov/Research/Digital.Documents/Nautilus/Map.pdf

Top of the World

At 11:15 p.m. Eastern Daylight Savings Time on August 3, 1958, the Nautilus reached the Pole with more than 14,000 feet of water under her keel. Anderson announced the achievement with a countdown from ten and a moment of silence. The crew celebrated with a dinner of steak and French fries. "And just that swiftly, we were no longer headed north," Anderson would later write. "The bow of USS Nautilus was now heading away from the Pole, pointed due south." It was Anderson's little joke — from the Pole, everything is due south.


Caption: Anderson, conscious of the dangers inherent in the Nautilus's mission, didn't sleep much on the run to the Pole. Photo ca. 1958, Submarine Force Library and Museum.

Happy Days ... And a Warning

Thirty-six hours later, the Nautilus surfaced off Iceland, and her radio flashed news of the accomplishment to the United States. A helicopter picked up Anderson at sea and flew him to Iceland for the first leg of the trip to Washington, D.C., where President Eisenhower decorated him with the Legion of Merit and gave his crew the first ever Presidential Unit Citation in a White House ceremony. Anderson lingered long enough for a packed press conference, then he flew the Atlantic again to rejoin the Nautilus before she docked in London.

At the time, official comment made much of the commercial possibilities of trans-Polar travel, such as cargo submarines hauling goods from New York City to Japan. But the unstated message was clear. As Nautilus sonar supervisor Al Charette noted: "Knowing that we could operate it [Nautilus] safely under the ice, it was known that a Polaris submarine could operate safely under the ice. Without an equivalent submarine, there was no way [for the Soviets] to go in and find that guy ... So we could be right in their back yard and there was nothing they could do about it."

Caption: President Eisenhower may have looked dour at the August 8, 1958, press conference with Anderson, but he knew he had just sent a message to the Soviets that meant a lot more than a satellite. Life magazine archives.