Great Ocean Drive

Sitting by the dock of the bay is not the only pleasurable thing to do in southern california.

- Rishad Saam Mehta

It was on this diesel-electric submarine of the Soviet Navy that the world came within a whisker of vaporisation

Sits tiny confines, the chances of scratching yourself on the profusion of metal within are very real. But on October 27, 1962, the threat onboard was even greater than that. It was on this diesel-electric submarine of the Soviet Navy that the world came within tepping into the B-39, as it stands slowly being eaten away by vicious rust in the San Diego harbour, is reason enough to get a tetanus shot. Because of a whisker of vaporisation.

Submarine B-39 was involved in the infamous Cuban Missile Crisis and it had been cut off from communication with Moscow while submerged. It urgently needed to resurface for air. On top of that, the US Navy destroyer it was shadowing, USS Beale, started dropping depth charges on the beleaguered B-39. In the sweltering command module of the sub, Captain Valentin Savitsky ordered the crew to prime the sub’s 10-kiloton nuclear torpedo because he was convinced that the Cold War between the US and the USSR had finally heated up. The target was the USS Randolph, the giant aircraft carrier leading the task force, blockading Cuba.

Political officer Ivan Semonovich Maslennikov gave his consent for the launch but chief of staff of the submarine flotilla, Commander Vasiliy Arkhipov, who was also onboard, stubbornly refused to do so. The consent of all three was required and, by refusing to do so, Arkhipov effectively saved the world—what would have followed that torpedo strike would have been a barrage of nuclear intercontinental ballistic missiles laying waste to the world.