Reflections of Isolation on a Submarine
This past Tuesday morning as a dozen of us said the Lord’s Prayer over Zoom to conclude our virtual Men’s Bible Study, I thought back to unconventional church services I participated in twenty years earlier. I was in my mid-20’s and a submarine officer deployed overseas. My friend Chris led weekly church services in a small room (yes, every room on a submarine is small) for 5 or 6 of us. We read the week’s readings, Chris read a prepared homily that was likely given to all US Navy ships too small to have a chaplain, and we sang some hymns. None of us could sing well, but to this day I can still hear us singing “Eternal Father, Strong to Save.” Those were some of the most powerful church services I can remember. Why? Like in our current tumultuous times, it brought comfort to hear His Word, to be in community, and to carry on a solemn and meaningful service despite unusual circumstances and environment.
As my wife Katie, our kids, and I battened down the hatches of our Vienna house to do our part for combatting the COVID-19 coronavirus, the memories of isolation on a submarine came to mind. Our family of 4 was going to be locked up in our house for most days with only brief “port calls” to play soccer in the backyard or bike around the deserted cul-de-sac. As we stocked up on food, Katie was thankful that I didn’t have us line the halls of our house with canned food like we did on the submarine. But we are applying some lessons on isolation from my submarine days…
Find a routine and keep busy:
On the submarine, there was great uncertainty about when we would be able to come into port and end our isolation, but our routine kept our minds focused on the present rather than thinking about being stuck in a small metal tube deep beneath the ocean.
Treasure the contact with the outside world:
While at sea, if all of the radio equipment was working correctly, each person could receive a 30-word “Familygram” message once a month, and even the hardiest sailors would treasure those 30-words until the next Familygram would arrive.
Be flexible and find the humor in the craziness:
During my second overseas deployment, our port visit to resupply was canceled due to unfolding critical events, so a few weeks later we had “Issue the Tissue Day.” Each person was given one roll of toilet paper and told to make it last for what could be 2 to 4 weeks. Although initial reactions were doom and gloom, eventually there were plenty of jokes, contests, and creativity. I wouldn’t recommend that any family in Vienna take the extreme measure of an “Issue the Tissue Day,” but it does help put into perspective our country’s current toilet paper shortage!
Have a space to call your own:
Being cooped up with a bunch of people on a submarine can create tension. It helped that everyone had a space to call their own. For most of us, it was just a 3 foot by 3 foot by 6 foot bunk, but it was a space that all other people respected.
Diet, sleep, and exercise:
On a submarine, eating well, sleeping enough, and getting some level of exercise was critical. I didn’t always get all three, and if time was short, sleep and certainly exercise suffered. However, the days certainly were smoother when I had the right quantity and quality of all three.
To close, my 30 word Familygram to you is “I wish you and your families good health, comfort from those around you (whether they’re six feet away or over Zoom), and hope that these challenging days will soon pass.”
Eric Krogh
