Sea Stories From the Artic Ocean

"World's First Baseball Game at the North Pole"

CAPT Alfred S. McLaren, USN (Ret.), USNA '55 - 13th Company

On the 25th of August 1960, the nuclear attack submarine, USS Seadragon (SSN-584) surfaced in an open lake of water or "polynya" very near the North Pole. We were the fourth submarine in history to have reached the top of the world! I (Fred McLaren) was a young lieutenant then, with my principal duties being officer of the deck, diving officer of the watch, photographic officer, and anything else anyone more senior might wish to saddle me with.

Seadragon maneuvered to a position along the edge of the heavy sea ice field that surrounded the polynya. This was so members of our navigation team to go onto to the ice to establish the exact location of the Pole. Once this was accomplished - to a remarkable degree of accuracy, one tenth of a nautical mile - we, as a crew, prepared to play the very first game of baseball at the North Pole!

We first chose two "teams of nine players each." We then "laid out" the "baseball diamond" on the generally flat yet still quite rugged ice surface with a "base” placed at each point of the "diamond." The baseball "pitcher's mound, which is located in the center of the "diamond," was positioned at our best estimate of the North Pole. The baseball "diamond" was then aligned such that the following interesting/amusing things would occur during the course of the game. First, if the batter hit a "homerun," he would circumnavigate the world as he ran around the bases to home plate. Second, if the batter hit the ball to right field, the ball would go across the International Dateline into "tomorrow." And, if the ball player from the opposing team in "Right Field" caught the ball and threw it back towards the "pitcher's mound," he would be throwing the ball back into "yesterday!" During the game, "sliding" into the bases (on the sea ice!) took on new meaning, and we were never sure just what day we actually completed the game. The baseball we used is supposedly in the "Baseball Hall of Fame."


The second story or experience occurred during the nuclear attack submarine USS Queenfish's historic first survey of the entire Siberian Continental Shelf during the summer of 1970. I (Fred McLaren) was the Commanding Officer of Queenfish at the time.


A Polar Bear Attacks The Periscope, or A Case of Mistaken Identity!

The nuclear attack submarine USS Queenfish was surveying the sea floor north of the New Siberian Islands in 1970. We had been operating under very thick sea ice for almost four days without having encountered a single area of open water. We needed this for safely conducting a vertical ascent in order to obtain a satellite navigation position. About mid-morning we finally reached a sufficiently large open lake of water or "polynya" that would permit us to ascend to a hovering position beneath the water surface. The ascent was conducted expeditiously, and I carefully raised the periscope and began an overhead search followed by a horizontal or surface search as soon as its optics or "head window" broke the surface. Halfway through my first surface sweep, I was startled to see a huge polar bear crouched on the icy edge of the polynya just 15 to 20 meters away! The bear saw us at the same time and immediately reared up, plunging into the water and swimming rapidly in our direction! Could it be the polar bear thought the top of our periscope was the head of a seal that had just come to the surface?

As I kept the periscope's optical "cross hairs" centered on the polar bear's nose, its head grew larger and larger as it quickly approached. I was so excited that I dropped a brand new Haselblad camera down the 15 meter steel periscope well, shattering it into a thousand pieces! Just as the polar bear's head filled my field of view, the thought entered my head, "How on earth am I going to explain teeth marks on the periscope when we return to home port? Fortunately, as the bear closed in, it saw its mistake and turned away in disgust! As I gave a sigh of relief, I saw that it was a female with two small and very curious cubs riding on her haunches. A wonderful sight that I managed to photograph with a Minolta. Hastily, they retreated, climbed back on the ice, and fled the area. Needless to say, my crew and I could talk of nothing else the rest of the day.