On this day in 1864, the pioneering Confederate submarine H.L. Hunley rammed and sank the USS Housatonic during the US Civil War. She was the first combat submarine to successfully sink an enemy warship.
The Hunley was the third prototype submarine developed by businessman, lawyer, and Louisiana state legislator Horace Lawson Hunley. Hunley’s first design, Pioneer, was intentionally destroyed ahead of the Union invasion of New Orleans in 1862. Hunley and his co-inventors then built the 36-foot hand-cranked American Diver, but this vessel sank during a storm in Mobile Bay in February 1863.
Begun weeks after the sinking of American Diver, the H.L. Hunley was much more successful. The 40-foot vessel was manufactured from a cylindrical iron boiler. A seven-man crew turned a hand-cranked propeller, while an additional officer steered and navigated. Hunley had two water ballast tanks, each with a seacock exposed to the open water, at either of her tapered ends. Crew members could raise the vessel by opening the seacocks and lower it via a hand pump. Two hatch covers fitted with watertight gaskets allowed the crew entry and exit through the top. Hunley’s designers attempted to solve the problem of airflow using a simple “snorkel box,” but this never worked as intended. Even without the box, the sub could stay submerged for up to two hours. Like most early submersibles, Hunley’s compartment was extremely cramped and only had space for her crew to crank the propeller, and lighting was provided by a single candle.
The Hunley received private funding for her construction and was successfully tested in Mobile, but the Confederate military seized her from her inventors in Charleston, SC in August 1863. From this point, the Hunley’s history is marred with tragic and sometimes ironic blunders. Later in August, her new Confederate captain accidentally stepped on the vessel’s diving plane control while preparing to make a test dive. The Hunley dove with one of the hatches open, killing five of her eight crew. Three months later, she failed to surface after a mock attack, killing the entire crew and inaugurating Horace Hunley as an inventor killed by his own work.
Finally, on the night of February 17, 1864, the Hunley attacked the USS Housatonic, a 12-gun sloop-of-war participating in the Union blockade of Charleston. She rammed a torpedo fitted to a 17-foot iron spar into the Housatonic’s hull, then reversed course to engage a 150-foot detonation rope. The Housatonic exploded and quickly sank but lost only five of her crew of 150. The Hunley’s fate has never been conclusively determined, but she never returned to Charleston Harbor. Treasure hunters repeatedly attempted to locate and recover her hull in the years following the sinking, but it wasn’t until 1995 that a submersible located the Hunley buried in sediment, and she was raised and recovered in 2000.
For years historians believed the Hunley sank en route to her naval station, but her wreck was located on the seaward side of the Housatonic, leading to a new theory positing that she was critically damaged by her own torpedo. If true, this would be a sadly fitting end to the life of a vessel marked by innovative engineering as well as tragic irony. For an excellent resource on the Hunley’s design, actions, and recovery, check out Friends of the Hunley.
Nowadays, many of us Millennials take our video and computer games for granted—they’re easily downloaded onto our smartphones, and there’s so many available we could never play them all. While I wouldn’t characterize myself as a ‘gamer’—in fact, I’m awful at most video games—even I can’t help but appreciate the work of Thomas T. Goldsmith and Estle Ray Mann, who, on this day in engineering history, patented the very first electronic game. Goldsmith and Mann’s 1947 patent covered the “Cathode Ray Tube Amusement Device.” This device, according to some, does not represent the first video game because it wasn’t technically played on a video device; however, it does mark a significant point in the path to modern video games.
The point of the game, as described in the patent, “was to hit targets, like pictures of airplanes that would be manually placed on the [cathode ray] tube, using the beam” which the player could control using knobs. And, as Popular Mechanics notes, “Even in 1947 people understood that every good video game needed explosions, with the patent reading, ‘the game can be more spectacular… by making a visible explosion of the cathode ray beam take place when the target is hit.’”
One of the only reports of a prototype comes from Bill Brantley who later taught physics with Goldsmith at Furman University. He recalled Goldsmith demonstrating the device for him, and explaining “if you turn these knobs and dials, you could make a little beam move across the image orthicon… and then by turning these other dials and knobs, you could hit the various little targets.” The fact that this product never made it past the prototype stage, and as a result never gained more recognition, could be due to the lack of funds of Allen B. DuMont Laboratory, Goldsmith’s employer. Regardless, the 1947 invention is impressive for its time.
Do you think Goldsmith and Mann’s Cathode-Ray Tube Amusement Device should be considered the “grandfather of video games?”
On December 23, 1822, Bavarian inventor and engineer Sebastian Wilhelm Valenin Bauer was born. Bauer, the son of a Bavarian sergeant-major, contributed significantly to furthering the design of hand-powered submarines. Originally, Bauer had been apprenticed to a turner, but left that trade to join the Bavarian artillery at sixteen. It was during his time in the artillery that Bauer is said to have gained his knowledge of mathematics. It was also when Bauer was given the chance to study the movement of seals—it was these seals that inspired Bauer’s first submarine design, Brandtaucher. In fact, Brandtaucher had a distinct seal-like look to it.
The test of Brandtaucher was eventful. According to an obituary in Volume 20 of “Engineering: An Illustrated Weekly Journal,” the first nine submarine trips went smoothly, but during the tenth, the poor quality of the materials and lack of funding revealed itself as it “sprang a leak” and “sank to the bottom of the Baltic.” Reports of the resulting events vary, according to the same Engineer obituary, Bauer and two sailors spent “six hours… in the almost hermetically sealed compartment of the ship, which was filled with compressed air, and into which the water could not enter. Fortunately, a happy idea struck Bauer in this emergency. He thought that if he were able to suddenly open an exit to the greatest quantity of compressed air, it would rush out with great force... At the proper moment Bauer opened the hatch and the three were forced upwards like, as Bauer expressed it, so many corks of champagne bottles, arriving safely at the surface of the water.”
The Encyclopedia Britannica goes on to say, “Bauer and his two assistants escaped from a depth of 60 feet” and emerged “after 7 ½ hours below, in the midst of their own funeral services.” The second depiction seems less likely to have occurred as described, but the story lends an air of excitement to Bauer’s experimentations. This excitement seems to have existed at the time as well because this stunt caught the attention of both King Louis of Bavaria and Prince Albert of England, who were said to have patronized him so he was able to recreate Brandtaucher.
In 1855, Bauer built a “52-foot iron submarine” that carried a crew of 11, “4 of whom worked a treadmill that drove a screw propeller.” This craft, sponsored by Grand Duke Constantine of Russia, made between 120 and 134 successful dives. However, Bauer reportedly “did not comply with the demands of Russian officials” and “had almost to fly from Russia under the protection of the Bavarian ambassador.”
Later, Wilhelm Bauer “effected the raising of the steamer Ludwig, sunk in the Lake of Constance” along with raising other wrecked ships from the ocean floor. Perhaps Bauer would have continued this had he not developed gout which “paralyzed [him] and deprived [him] of speech.” Bauer died at the age of 53 in Munich, Germany on June 20, 1875.
Ohain received his Ph.D. in Physics and Aerodynamics from the Georg August University of Göttingen in 1935, after only four years, rather than the usual seven. After graduating, Ohain joined Ernst Heinkel’s manufacturing firm where he “developed a theory” regarding turbo jet engines. It was not until 1936 that Ohain patented this theory, which he bench tested in 1937. The liquid-fueled engine, named the HeS 3B, had its first successful flight on August 27, 1939 on the Heinkel manufactured HC-178 airplane.
While this successful flight is what designates Ohain as the “designer of the first operational jet engine,” the design used a “centrifugal compressor,” which was “inherently less efficient than one using an axial-flow compressor… It was a turbojet of this type, designed by Anselm Franz, that powered the Me 262, the world’s first operational jet fighter aircraft [first flown July 18, 1942].” (You can learn more about Anselm Franz in our Great Engineers & Scientists Blog.)
In 1947, Ohain left Germany for the United States as part of Operation Paperclip. Ohain worked at the Aerospace Research Laboratory (ARL) and the Air Force Aerospace Propulsion Laboratory (AFAPL); he later became the chief scientist of each, in 1963 and 1975, respectively.
During his time in America, Ohain conducted a “survey study of trends and research objectives in the field of energy conversion and propulsion,” and is credited with “more than twenty U.S. patents”—compared to his fifty German patents. Prior to his death on March 13, 1998, Ohain received a number of awards, and, in 1990, the University of Dayton honored him by establishing four graduate fellowships in his name in aerodynamics.
Born on November 30, 1869, Gustaf Dalén grew up with the intention of taking over his father’s farm, until Gustaf de Laval, another Swedish inventor, realized his potential and convinced him to attend the Chalmers Institute at Gothenburg. Evidently, “Dalén’s inventiveness first showed in his early days… when he built a threshing machine powered by an old spinning wheel. He contrived a device to indicate the butterfat content of milk.” It was this beginning that led Dalén to winning the Nobel Peace Prize many years later for “his invention of automatic regulators for use in conjunction with gas accumulators for illuminating lighthouses and buoys.”
Coastline safety, and the lighting that provided it, had been a consistent issue for countries like Sweden which boasts a long coastline and countless islands. Dalén’s solution for this problem was groundbreaking and significantly increased the efficiency of coastal lighting. Previously, maritime lighting had utilized petroleum gas, which “had to be burned in flashes lasting about six seconds, and with the valving system then in use, one liter of gas provided 50 flashes.”
Dalén’s system could take one liter of acetylene and provide “several thousand short but brilliant flashes. The shorter flashes permitted a larger coding alphabet for the navigation signals.” He also developed a “solar valve, or Soventil,” that would turn the marine lighting system off at sunrise and back on in the evening. This ensured that lights could operate automatically, and additionally, they only needed to be inspected once per year at most. In addition, the cost of Dalén’s lighting system was also significantly reduced.
Two months prior to being awarded the 1912 Nobel Prize in Physics, Dalén was seriously injured and permanently blinded in an accidental explosion during an experiment. Despite his blindness, after recovering from his injuries, Dalén continued to develop products and conduct experiments.