The goal of any Surface Warfare-selecting Naval Academy graduate is to get out into the fleet to put the four years of training by the Bay to good use. They get to their ship, get assigned their Division, and receive their packet of qualifications to complete that will get them well on their way to becoming an operationally qualified Surface Warfare Officer (SWO).
The first operational watch-station a very junior and unqualified SWO stands is Conning Officer. The basic function of the Conning Officer is to spit out the commands given to them by the Officer of the Deck (OOD) to the Helmsman (steering wheel and gas pedal operator), with little to no input on what those commands are. Their first job at sea, after years of training, is to be…a parrot. As they get more familiar with driving the ship, the Officer of the Deck gives them a little more leeway to safely keep the ship on course and avoid danger.
After a number of other qualifications, watch-stations, and earning the full trust of the Commanding Officer (CO), they get qualified as the Officer of the Deck (OOD). The OOD has to have earned the full trust from the CO, because the OOD is effectively responsible for the $millions/billions worth of equipment, and more importantly, hundreds of Sailors’ lives while standing in for the CO. A smart CO will not qualify an Officer as OOD if they do not feel they are capable of the role’s demands. It’s also ultimately the CO’s responsibility to ensure the Junior Officers aboard their ship are receiving the proper training and support that gives the Junior Officers the tools they need to accomplish this goal.
I, along with my fellow junior Officers, qualified OOD on time with just one exception who was somewhat capable, but wasn’t able to earn the CO’s full trust. There was one instance during my qualification process that still haunts me today. We were doing exercises out in the Atlantic Ocean, relatively close to shore. Surprisingly, one of the unlikely concerns of these powerful, and globally feared Naval warships is…fishing net. The fishing net buoys don’t show up on radar, are hard to see visually at a distance, yet can cause considerable damage if the nets get caught on the propeller and shaft. I was standing OOD, steaming along at a nice clip, when I see we’re headed straight for an orange fishing buoy. I look to the left and see another buoy. Look to my right and see another. My training always told me to avoid fishing nets at all costs, but it never said anything about what to do when contact with a fishing net is inevitable. I froze, because I had never received instructions on how to handle this. Despite the many hours of studying, and training, I froze. I didn’t relay any commands to my Conning Officer, thus no commands got parroted to the Helmsman. Luckily, a more seasoned OOD happened to be on the Bridge, and quickly shouted out a command that while informal, got the point across.
“Steer for the middle of the two buoys!” (This would be where the net is deepest and least likely to contact the prop)
No OOD wants another Officer to take command of their bridge, nor should they, but in this case, I was glad someone had the ability to take control and stand in for me when I lost control of the situation (“Now get off of my Bridge!). This haunts me today because the situation could have been more serious, and had much more catastrophic results.
A few months later, while deployed in South America, I was standing OOD at night, performing multi-ship wartime exercises (DIVTACS) with Central and South American Naval Forces. Every US Navy ship has the CO’s Standing Orders, which are guidelines for how to operate the ship in the CO’s absence. There’s a section specific to night-time operations, which are set up to allow time for the CO, and the rest of the crew to get some sleep without too much unnecessary movement. They typically include directions like; keep the speed below 10-15 kts, keep rudder angles less than 15 degrees, etc. The guide ship during these night time operations, despite not specifically following our CO’s Standing Orders, usually followed the same guidelines. One of the foreign Navies (I think it was the Chileans) had developed a bit of a reputation for not providing a lot of time for the other ships to receive, understand, and plan necessary actions to properly execute the formation. Luckily, the time spent at the Academy on maneuvering boards (mo-boards), and challenging my team of Operation Specialists (OS’s) to mo-board drills paid off, because I had become very proficient at solving them. This allowed me to quickly comprehend and evaluate the commands given, and the actions that needed to be taken. On one specific occasion, the guide ship sent an order that set my ship on a collision course with another, and per their reputation, they executed the formation before I could let them know of the pending danger.
“All engines ahead full! Hard left rudder!”
This was quick and deliberate action to take my ship out of harm’s way, allowing us to approach the formation from the rear and arrive on station safely, albeit not as directed. All engines ahead full with a hard rudder causes a nice little list, definitely enough to wake any CO from their slumber. It was necessary to show the other ships our clear deviation from the planned movement, and get out of the way of other ships quickly. Within seconds, the CO was on the Bridge in just his underwear, chewing out my Conning Officer for disobeying his Standing Orders. I quickly jumped in, telling him that I gave the order and why. He continued to berate my Conning Officer.
“Sir, I’m the OOD, I gave the order! If you need to yell at someone, yell at me!”
The reason for the order was clear. Staying on course would have put us on a collision course, which would have been much worse than a surprise wake-up, and his toothbrush falling into the sink. The CO was not grasping that his standing orders did not fit the immediate situation, and that no deviation would have been disastrous.
In business, we sometimes find ourselves in situations where we’re given orders that aren’t in line with our values, strategy, are ill-suited for our customers, or could jeopardize the success of the business. It’s not always intentional, as sometimes we get so focused on the big picture, we fail to see the fishing buoys right in front of us. As a leader, it’s your duty to stand up and take the proper action, professionally.
Don’t freeze. Don’t blindly parrot orders that will cause you to question your personal values, your company’s values, the pact that you have with your customers, or your ability to achieve your business objectives. You will likely wind up regretting it later. It will likely affect your business relationships and revenue generation, but will most certainly be transparent to those you manage. You must deviate by taking deliberate action, relying on your experience, knowledge, and the confidence instilled in you by your senior leadership when they hired you. Stand up and do the right thing, even if it results in short-term pain. It will ultimately result in long-term rewards, which could be anything from maintaining your integrity and your credibility with your customers, and/or the respect of those organizationally subordinate to you. I guarantee someone aboard the USS FITZGERALD, or USS MCCAIN either knew the actions taken, or failure to take action would result in collision. Whether they didn’t feel empowered to stand up, or they just froze, people died. Don’t let that be you, or your organization.
If you find yourself simply parroting commands, assume your role as a manager not leader, expect yourself to be further compromised in the future, and say hello to Peter*. If not, get others on your ship, let them trust you with their careers and livelihood, and lead the way to greatness.
*in reference to the Peter Principle