Reunited
Cmdr. Xerxes Herrington II had not seen the Kittiwake since she was decommissioned in 1994.

I hadn’t anticipated my nerves. Not since her 1994 decommissioning had I laid eyes on Kittiwake. I fear I won’t recognize her, now underwater in Grand Cayman. So many mothballed ships are cut and sold as scrap metal. How much of Kittiwake would be missing?

I swim first to the mess hall. The tables are gone, and yet I see a Thanksgiving dinner from decades past with my other family, my crew family. Because it was the largest room, we also held trainings and lectures here.

Now onto the wardroom, aka the officers’ mess, home to morning meetings. I also remember hosting commanding officers from the squadron, setting out place mats with embroidered submarine dolphins. We’d wanted to show those guys that we knew how to live.

Ah, my stateroom. They didn’t leave my rack. (That’s what we called our beds.) I’m not able to lay down and take a nap! That’s upsetting. But my mirror is still here.

Diving Into he Past
A photo of Xerxes taken during his service aboard the Kittiwake.

I fin through hallways, overcome by memories. I passed through these corridors every day at 2 a.m. for walk-throughs. Now I’m doing it alongside angelfish and silversides.

What’s most surprising is seeing the hyperbaric chamber. Those are extremely expensive. Maybe it’d gone past its life and that’s why it remains on board.

The diving bell! A big bell like that can withstand pressure very deep when sealed. We’d lower it all the way down on top of a submarine, our guys would pump out water, and men could exit the submarine into the diving bell. Then they’d flood the bottom and lift it with the men inside. The real diving bell is gone; what we see here is a substitute.

As I take a final lap on Kittiwake, I’m struck by a familiar feeling. I recall running one night through fog from Nova Scotia, Canada, to Connecticut. On deck, I looked out across the sea — I can see as far through this water as I could through that fog!

Time is up. During my ascent, I watch the ship recede from view and realize I’m proud. She sailed her whole life. Now she has a second life — one where people will learn her story.

I’m thankful. She is extremely recognizable. That’s Kittiwake. She looks just like I remembered.

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