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This is a copy of the speech given by CAPT Mark Sander 
 , the last operational
Commanding Officer of HMAS OTAMA. LCDR O'Dwyer was unable to attend due to an overseas
posting.
Leader of the Opposition, The Most Honourable Kim Beasley, Admiral
Shackleton, Admiral Briggs, Admiral Smith, Former Commanding Offic ers and ships companies of OTAMA,
Fellow submariners, Ladies and Gentlemen,
I am honoured to be here today to speak at this significant occasion and as the Commanding
Officer on the last Operational deployment for the Class. I would like to thank Captain
Rick Shalders for thinking of me and affording me the opportunity not only to be
here today, but to participate in what I consider to be, a most noteworthy and important
day. I must make mention of LCDR Paddy O’Dwyer who succeeded me for the last few
months of OTAMA’s sea going life.
It was almost 18 months ago that I relinquished command of OTAMA. I am not embarrassed
to say that I did so with a heavy heart and a tear in my eye as I crossed the brow
for the final time as the CO of an operational submarine. I am sure that is a common
feeling for submariners. A submarine is not simply a complex web of steel, pipes
and cables. A submarine lives and breathes, from the constant throb of an ASR 1 diesel
to the movement on the high seas. If the hull and systems are the body, then the
crews of the submarines are the soul.
What is it then, that lures 8 Officers and 56 Crew to careers in which they spend
so much of their time in cramped quarters, under great psychological stress, with
dangers lurking all about? Submariners by necessity form a very close knit and harmonious
team. This adds to the espirit de corp and provides a powerful and enduring connection
between the crews and their boats. We grow as a team, confident in the knowledge
that we can rely upon our shipmates in time of need, and determined that we succeed
as a team.
Submarines each have their own character. Our emblem was the dolphin,
OTAMA will always be known as the Gucci boat, a trait often reflected in her crews.
Always the operational submarine and hence required to always maintain the highest
operational standards. In her three commissions she travelled over 300,000 Nautical
miles and as her motto states, always Unseen.
A nautical romantic at heart I took the opportunity this week to walk her passageways
for just one more time.
I went down to the forends where the forendees used to sit and watchkeep for endless
hours. Passing through 34 bulkhead I stopped briefly in the cramped foreward mess
which was the home for about twenty sailors. The noise emanating from the senior
rates attracted my attention. Opposite was the outside wreckers, the SPO and the
POLTOs bunks, all filled with every conceivable spare under their mattresses to ensure
they could cope with whatever defect the boat threw at them. The galley was next
with the smell of pizza and chips. It reminded me of Saturday night at sea. Through
49 bulkhead to the grot. Aptly named because it was still a mess. The wardroom was
next. Corro was counting the contingent account, The XO was writing just one more
XOTM and of course the WEEO was asleep in his bunk. I could then here the sounds
of the control room. Standby target setup, pay attention CEP, get me on depth now
engineer, racket dangerous, racket dangerous, racket dangerous, down all masts, well
done panel. Far too tense there so I moved aft passed the Cos cabin and stepping
over the ROs as they were scrubbing out trap 1. I also needed to step over the chef
who was in the fridges for the third time that day. I still wonder what possessed
the Brits to put the fridges directly outside a toilet. The AMS was far too noisy
so I continued aft where the donk shop horse and pony were busy changing a cylinder
head on the stbd donk, something todays CO would gladly have the capacity to do.
The engine room is no place for a seaman officer so I hurried through to the motor
room with the sound of "fifty gallons ballast pump" still ringing in my
ear. The first motor room watchkeeper was there  bright and breezy having been warned off by
the donk shop that I was coming aft. To his relief I passed through quickly to the
after mess. In OTAMA the aft mess was more than a home away from home. It was decked
out in wood and carpeted throughout. Not a soul stirred as we had just finished SAI
day 3. Consequently I turned around and went back forward. I stopped momentarily
to read "Christina, my daughter’s name, on the ship’s bell, a time honoured
tradition afforded to past and present members of a ship’s company to christen their
children on ships or submarines.
According to tradition, a member of a ship’s commissioning detail, in the days of
wooden vessels, had the right to take a plank from her deck when she was decommissioned.
Today, it would be difficult to find a plank on a submarine; so all I can offer is
some words of praise for OTAMA, and those memories to take away with you today. The
paying off pennant dates back to the 19th century when cleaning rags in a ship decommissioning
were knotted together and hoisted as a sign that they would no longer be used. The
practice was for the pennant to be the length of the boat if she paid off on the
proper date, with an addition of 1/24 of the length for each additional month. Can
anyone work out how long OTAMA’s pennant should be?
For those of us who served on OTAMA, a little of us will be lost today as OTAMA is
taken away and started down that irreversible path towards decommissioning. I am
glad to see today many former shipmates and the COs from the three commissions. There
is a special relationship that exists between a submariner and their boat, especially
a boat such as OTAMA. Her sustained outstanding performance is testimony to that
closeness of that relationship throughout her life. The ship and its crew have been
an integral part of each other for 22 years, and all of us justifiably take pride
not only in what we have done during our deployments on OTAMA, but also what has
been done by those who preceded us as well as those who succeeded us.
This feeling exists because we all have influenced our past, present and future shipmates.
Those of us who worked so hard to be a part of that relationship cannot take today
too lightly. In your programs you have the names of but a few of these heroes — unsung
heroes. As the boat retires, we know her memories will live beyond her years.
I ask you not to think of this decommissioning so much machinery as being superseded.
I ask you to look at her as a proud lady, gracefully retiring knowing that her job
has been well done. I ask you to look to the future, to our new submarines, which
will carry us to the fore.
And finally, I would ask you to reflect on the accomplishments of this great, albeit
tired lady. She is truly a leader of her class and arguably the most productive and
successful submarine Australia has had.
I would like to say goodbye, a final farewell to OTAMA by reading a passage I kept
in my notebook while CO, written by the author best known for his book ‘the Cruel
Sea’, Nicholas Monsarrat, back in 1944.
No-one save a power-maniac, a sadist or a nautical romantic can hold any belief
for submarine warfare. There is a current Anglo American illusion skilfully fostered
during the war, that whereas the Germans used boats, which were beastly, we only
used submarines which were quite different and rather wonderful. This piece of disillusion
does not persist with those who have ever been on the receiving end of a torpedo.
Of course there is another side to the medal. It cannot be denied that submariners
are brave and skillful men and that they are accustomed to continue their skill in
conditions of acute danger, which is perhaps the bravest thing of all.
Rest well, our Lady OTAMA. You have earned your rest. Know your labours have
set the standard which others must meet. Let them try and match you. To those of
us who have served with you, you remain the love of our lives; you will always be
in our memories.
I will now like to introduce an officer who I respect and envy, envy because he leaves
the RAN on the ultimate high, RADM Peter Briggs.
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Friday, 15th December 2000 will go down in the history books
of the RAN as the day that the last of the old warriors, HMAS OTAMA de-commissioned
after serving her country and ship's companies faithfully for over 22 years.
The decommissioning was watched by 100 well wishers,
family members and officers and sailors of the RAN.
