Canada's first subs, bought at the outbreak of the First World War, had originally been intended for Chile. But the Chileans deemed them defective

By Nima Karimi

It was recently discovered that Canada (apparently Transport Canada) has expressed interest in purchasing a surveillance drone from Germany. This, however, as David Pugliese reports, is no ordinary drone: not only is it second-hand, it is also severely gutted, “without many core components it needs to fly.” The drone lacks “radio equipment, the GPS receiver and aerials, as well as all encryption and the flight-control system.” The then-German minister at the time recognized it as a “write-off” and even one of the lawmakers said the drone had “scrap value.” Who would be interested in this drone is succinctly captured by a German journalist who also heads the defence website Augen Geradeaus: “The question is what a buyer would do with such a gutted aircraft. Without GPS navigation and in particular without flight-control systems, the drone would hardly be able to fly.” And yet our country is interested in such a drone.

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As unfortunate it is to witness this tragedy unfold, it is worth noting that this isn’t Canada’s first time pursuing such blatantly dysfunctional equipment. Canada has, as distressing as it is to say, a history of such sordid purchases. Indeed, this pattern goes back to Canada’s very first acquisition of submarines, which took place during the beginning of the First World War.

Photo by Postmedia News

In response to the largely unprotected West Coast, B.C. premier McBride took it upon himself to purchase two submarines (named CC1 and CC2 after acquisition) from the Seattle Construction and Drydrock Company to assist the aged HMCS Rainbow, our only cruiser of fighting strength, which also happened to be obsolescent, undermanned and supplied with ineffective small-calibre ammunition. It would have been completely incapable of effectively engaging the two modern German cruisers, Leipzig and Nurnberg, stationed by the west coast of Mexico.

Here’s the rub: Canada’s first submarines were fraught with issues, issues concerning both the nature of their purchase and the items themselves. The submarines were actually originally intended for Chile, being nearly bought in 1911, but after a series of tests, the Chilean naval experts were dissatisfied with the current state of the submarines and recommended against purchase on grounds that they were overweight and their sea endurance was not up to specification (interestingly Canadian tests had passed these units without issue). While the original asking price for Chile was $818,000 for the two submarines (a price supposedly designed to entice future contracts), Canada had purchased them for over $1.1 million — a huge premium over what the Chilean Navy had to pay and twice the annual budget for the Royal Canadian Navy for 1913-1914.

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Chilean naval experts were dissatisfied with the current state of the submarines and recommended against purchase

Unwilling to wait to have a submarine built within the typical time frame of from anywhere between six months to a year, premier McBride went ahead and purchased the submarines on Aug. 5, 1914, and while he did not initially consult with Ottawa and London regarding the procurement of these vessels, they did later officially approve his transaction and reimbursed the province for its expenses. The transaction was supposedly done in haste in order to avoid the imminent U.S. embargo on weapon sales to warring nations as per its neutrality policy. In fact, the deal was so rushed and so shrouded in secrecy that the submarines were nearly fired upon by the uninformed Esquimalt base when they were making their trip from Seattle. Later that same day the U.S. cruiser Milwaukee was deployed to retrieve the subs, unsuccessfully searching the neutral waters between B.C. and Seattle.

Photo by www.forposterityssake.ca

On Feb. 11, 1915, a member of the opposition, Honourable William Pugsley, called into question the purchase of the submarines, raising concerns over the fact that they were out of date and not built according to specifications; that the Chileans had refused these vessels after conducting a series of tests; that the price paid was too high; that the government had been too secretive in its acquisition; and whether or not a commission was made from the transaction. The Minister of Marine and Fisheries replied on the behalf of the government that there was no reason to believe the vessels were defective and that the naval experts were in favour of their purchase, and he assured that most documentation of the transaction would be made public. The minister also argued that the presence of CC1 and CC2 at Esquimalt was very desirous and that a quick decision was needed to ensure a successful purchase.

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Then-prime minister Robert Borden supported his minister, and emphasized the threatening danger to the Canadian West Coast and reminded the Parliament that the duty of government is to ensure the protection of the nation at all costs. These would have been fair points had there been actual confirmed sightings of the two German cruisers on Canada’s West Coast.

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On Feb. 24, 1915, premier McBride defended the purchase (and himself) in the provincial legislature by delivering a long speech, which was well-received and met with applause. Later that day, he asked Borden for an investigation in order to clear him of all suspicions, but Borden assured him that Pugsley was not worth the attention. Later, the verdict of a commission on this matter addressed public suspicions of alleged backhanded dealings. Those who were involved with the transaction were cleared of any suspicions, and the commission’s conclusion commended McBride for making the right decision in purchasing these vessels.

That was the politics. Now let’s talk about those submarines.

For almost the next three years, they remained on the West Coast and were engaged with cruising and training — and almost half the time was spent on maintenance. On June 12, 1917, the submarines embarked on their first and final voyage. As per Admiralty orders, CC1, CC2 and the Shearwater, a sloop designated to be the submarine tender, left Esquimalt for Halifax so they could make their way to Europe. The submarines were plagued with mechanical problems, and repairs and overhauls became recurring themes at each stop. Chronic engine-trouble plagued the journey, and the Shearwater helped tow the submarines to the nearest port whenever they broke down. As many as 12 days were spent for overhaul and repairs at Balboa, Panama.

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Photo by CFB Esquimalt/Postmedia News

Although the problems were frequent and innumerable for both subs, the crew aboard CC2 had the worst experience. Due to its weak design, the storage batteries of CC2 sometimes short-circuited and had even caught fire on two separate occasions: once during a heavy gale off Cape Blanco on the Oregon coast, and again off Salina Cruz, Mexico. It was the latter fire that almost did the crew in. As a result of the storage battery fire, chlorine gas was released and rendered the majority of the crew unconscious. The coxswain with one or two others who did not succumb to the gas felt that the end was near. For most of the voyage, the subs were towed by the Shearwater. Upon arrival in Halifax on Oct. 14, 1917, they were deemed unfit to cross the Atlantic to Europe without new engines.

More than a 100 years later, Canada continues its bizarre fascination with blatantly dysfunctional equipment, and just as before with the submarine acquisition, the government and its appendages are never genuinely held to account for asinine purchases. History certainly seems to repeat itself, and Canadians pay for it with their taxes.

— Nima Karimi is pursuing a PhD in sociology at the University of Waterloo.