Mutual Spying on the High Seas

The USS Cone, a 26 year-old destroyer rejuvenated with anti-submarine rockets, lowers and folds her stern ensign, raises the American flag on her mast, drops the Italian pilot into his bobbing "pilata" boat and slips past the seawall of Catania, Sicily. We are bound out for the Sicilian Channel, off Tunisia, to intercept two new Soviet warships just come into the Mediterranean from the Baltic. One is the Krivak 500, a guided missile destroyer that navigator Lt. J.G. Ted Strickland, who also serves as intelligence officer, calls "the hottest thing in the Soviet fleet." The other is the Boris Chilikin, a tanker-supply ship reputed to give the the Russians a capability of alongside, underway refueling for the first time.

Both are prototypes of a class, floating proof of the spectacular growth of Soviet sea power.

The number of Soviet naval ships in the Mediterranean has increased greatly in recent years, the fleet growing from modest trawlers to "the most modern warships that money can buy." The United States and its allies have responded by shadowing the Russians all over the ancient landlocked sea to see what's what with the new Russian armada. That is what the Cone is doing, a seagoing gumshoe in a game of mutual spying from Haifa to Gibraltar.

By mid-morning, the Cone turns into Augusta Bay, a NATO fuel depot. In the wardroom, there is excited speculation over where the Russians are going. Lt. Bob Hunsinger, from Spartanburg, S.C., known below decks as "The Gunslinger," because he is the Cone's weapons officer, thinks they may be headed for the Black Sea to join the Soviet's largest surface fleet. Lt. J.G. Rick Buttina, the operations officer, from Garden City, L.I., votes for Alexandria, Egypt, where a number of Russian warships have been "hanging loose" since President Sadat came to power.

Executive Officer Lt. Comdr. George Jenkins, of Charleston, S.C., mentions two other possibilities. "The Guys," as they are now called, could be on the way to the large international anchorages off Crete, where Soviet ships operating in the Med often drop the hook to save fuel, or else they could be enroute to join the new helicopter carrier Leningrad, which two days ago came down from the Black Sea. NATO surveillance planes and ships, keeping a close eye on Gibraltar and the Bosporus, the two natural choke points for traffic in and out of the Mediterranean, always know when there is a new girl in town.

Skimming through seas at 22 knots off Malta, the Cone prepares a little surprise to worry Russian intelligence officers. "The Gunslinger" goes aloft with two seamen to rig a cargo net, minus its rope webbing, on the starboard kingpost in a vertical position like a weird radio apparatus. Like sending out phony radio and blinker signals, rigging outrageous gear is one of the little games rival navies play at sea.

The sun goes down. Still no Russians. The captain, Comdr. Harold Hinkley of Denver, is in his black leather barber chair on the starboard side of the bridge scanning a moonlit, silent sea.

THURSDAY: Radarman George Taylor, of Columbus, Ohio, standing the 6-12 watch, reports the first contact just after breakfast. West, 264 degrees. The contact, still several hours away, is bearing down on us at 24 knots. "All engines ahead full,: orders Lt. J.G. Al Offner, of New Orleans, the officer of the deck. Lt. J.G. Paul Kindim, the anti- submarine warfare officer from Wauwatosa, Wisc., complains: "the Mediterranean, with 2400 ship contacts on any given day, is noisier than New York harbor."

By noon, three ships have come over the horizon. The "Big Eye" telescope on the signal deck identifies them as the Boris Chilikin, the Krivak 500 and an Italian destroyer named "Impetuoso." As the Cone closes in, boilerman Gregg Ligett comes topside and sets up a 500mm lens camera. He is followed by boilerman Jeff Sommerville of Yakima, Wash., with a tripod camera and a 1,000mm lens.

"Don't fire until you smell the vodka on their breath," Ligett tells Sommerville.

"Range, combat?" the captain asks. "1200 yards," comes the answer. The crew of the Cone views the two newcomers the way the blind men saw the elephant. "The Gunslinger" admires the Krivak's depth charge mortars. The executive officer likes her sleek lines and raked masts.

The two Russians and their Italian shadow continue on an easterly course toward Greece. We tag along at a discreet distance.

FRIDAY: A bright windless morning finds the Boris riding lower in the water after fueling from a Soviet merchant tanker. Out of deference to her bulk, the Krivak knifes along at 16 knots, followed by the Italian destroyer and the Cone. An RAF Shackleton recon plane makes a low pass over the Boris, causing her to rotate her huge air search radar antenna.Then a U.S. Vigilante jet whines by. Navy Corsairs from the Carrier Forrestal swoop down for a look. The Russian guided missile destroyer exercises her three-inch gun mounts, but there is nothing menacing in the gesture. "Like John Wayne somersaulting his six guns," explains the chief engineer. Late in the afternoon, we close to within 1000 yards to count the Krivak's portholes and get a better look at her weaponry, but the Impetuoso comes in almost beside her. The Krivak pulls away, but the Italian ship circles her, then blinks out "arriverderci" on her signal lights and drops over the horizon for home.

SATURDAY: "All hands on deck for the international boat show." We are awakened by the friendly voice of the captain, welcoming us to the busy international anchorage of Kithira, northwest of Crete, where during the night the Krivak and the Boris have dropped the hook. At least eight Soviet ships are gently bobbing in the morning haze. The deck officers have "Weyer's Warships of the World" open on the bridge and have identified two Zulu class Soviet submarines, two light cargo ships nuzzled beside the Boris and a Sverdlov class cruiser.

Toward sunset the Krivak has pulled in close to the Boris and is about to refuel. The Cone is the first NATO ship ever to witness this new Soviet capability.

"It makes their Mediterranean operations far less dependent on liberty ports like Alexandria and Port Said," points out Bob Hunsinger.

SUNDAY: We are bound for Souda Bay on the north side of Crete to fuel at the Royal Hellenic navy docks. The USS Lester, a destroyer escort, is pacing our old post back at the anchorage. Late in the day we get the word to head east, toward Turkey, to intercept the Soviet helicopter carrier Leningrad and a new guided missile cruiser coming our way.

MONDAY: The Russians are everywhere. There is the Leningrad, looking like a battleship up front and an aircraft carrier behind. The captain describes her as "the most powerful anti-submarine weapon in the world." There is a Kynda class light cruiser bearing the name Gozniy and the number 842, and next to it what the exec officer calls a "brand new, hot stuff" Kresta II class guided missile destroyer with no name and the number 585.

C.I.C. reports that as of today there are 64 Soviet warships in the Mediterranean, compared with the 6th Fleet's current total of 49. "She could blast us out of the water with no trouble at all," says "the Gunslinger."

TUESDAY: There are so many Soviet ships now at anchor off Crete, "Weyer's Warships of the World," has replaced a blue book called "The Greedy Gynecologist" as the most popular book aboard.

WEDNESDAY: Still walking the line east of Crete, in company with the Leningrad, the Grozniy and the Kresta II, which has returned during the night. With the aid of a Russian dictionary, one of the lookouts is translating the writing on the helicopter hangar of the Kresta cruiser: "Our Motto; Outstanding Service, Highest Battle Readiness in the Year of the 24th Congress of the Soviet Communist Party."

THURSDAY: The Cone is east of Crete watching the Leningrad and the Grozniy and a newcomer, a tanker. The USS Johnson is west of Crete keeping an eye on Boris Chilikin, Krivak 500 and have a dozen other Soviet ships. Vice Adm. Isaac Kidd Jr., commander of the 6th Fleet, is aboard his flagship, the cruiser Springfield, in Gaeta harbor, north of Naples. When he took over the fleet three years ago, the Soviets averaged only a few hundred ship-days a year, which is the number of days a single ship spends in the Mediterranean. Now they are averaging "many thousands of ship days."

The admiral dates the rapid growth of Soviet naval power from the Cuban missile crisis. "Evidently they are determined never to be embarassed that way again," he said.

A veteran Soviet watcher Adm. Kidd sums up the Russians as "able navigators, smart seamen, competent professionals who, from what we have seen, hit what they are shooting at."