Navy submariner

With a starting salary approaching $80,000, full training, a trade, travel and a recession-proof career you’d reckon they’d be turning applicants away. And that’s what the Navy had hoped in trying to crew its submarine fleet.

Yet if recruitment’s a problem for the Defence Forces generally then it’s practically dire for the submarine corp.

Of the six of the billion-dollar boats in the fleet, two are often untenable through chronic crew shortages.

Put simply, sailors are leaving quicker than they can be replaced and that’s on top of a recent $60,000 sweetener for those who signed-on for an additional 18 months.

And let’s not beat around the bush, it’s quite possibly one of the most demanding working environments you could find yourself in, as I quickly learned on a four-day media excursion aboard HMAS Farncomb.

Farncomb is crewed by eight officers and 42 sailors, eight of which are female and all of which are volunteers.

All recruits are rigorously tested to ensure they’re not only physically capable but have the mental wherewithal too. After all, weeks under the ocean, 12 hour days, fortnightly showers, limited contact with loved-ones, and a tiny bunk as your sole refuge is not everyone’s idea of a congenial work environment.

Yet once on board this 78 metres of stealthy black metal there’s a raft of jobs available: from diesel mechanic to electrical engineer, weapons analyst, to chef or valet.

Farncomb’s crew is young (mostly under 30), enthusiastic and understand the importance of the job. For all its tribulations, the Collins are the forefront of the nation’s defence and are widely regarded as the most lethal non-nuclear submarines on the planet.

Aaron Keillor, 25, has just transferred to Farncomb after seven years on Navy patrol boats. A qualified diver he’s now training as a chef.

“That’s the great thing about the Navy, you’re never bored, you simply move on to the next thing,” he says.

To become a fully qualified submariner a sailor has to earn his or her “dolphins” , meaning you understand every part of the sub from the propeller at the back to the torpedos at the front.

Keillor’s yet to earn his but says “when I do I’ll be on 90 grand.” He’s quick to add: “Subs are one of the Navy’s better payers.”

Keillor agrees the job’s not for everyone. “There’s a lot of personal sacrifice but you get a lot of personal wealth out of it too. There’s leadership, teamwork, a work ethic; I’m totally prepared to work 36 hours straight to get the job done.”

Andrew Glenn’s official title aboard Farncomb is Leading Seamen Electronics Technician Submariner, which basically means he drives the sub. “It’s not that different from playing PlayStation,” he laughs.

The 27-year-old’s been in the Navy six years and on subs for four. “For sure it’s about my pride and my loyalty to Australia,” he says, “and yes it can be tough being away from family but the most satisfying thing is the mateships you make.

“I think to be a good submariner you need to be an introverted extrovert ““ great with people, but comfortable in your own space. You have to be a bit nutty, quirky too.”

Twenty-year-old Chris Millington left a small regional town in Tasmania to enlist. An Acoustic Warfare Analyst aboard Farncomb he says if not for the Navy he’d probably be working at his local supermarket.

“And this is a darn sight more interesting,” he says, “plus I’m making 80 grand.”

Rohan Hahn, 25, is one of Farncomb’s radio operators. His seven-year naval career saw him see action on surface boats in the Middle East. He cites the travel as the best part of the job and “the money”¦ I’ve bought a house and got a lot of savings, I’ve got to find other places to stick my cash, really.”

Scotty Schulter is the boat’s extrovert, the man with a “lady in every port” . His job is to maintain the diesel engines and the weapons.

“I love Navy life,” admits the 26-year-old, “you have to be pretty tolerant, if you’re indecisive or a “˜stress head’ then don’t become a submariner.
“We’re the cream of the Navy, we’ve got the most complicated systems and the toughest working conditions, so I think we get the most respect.”

Farncomb’s skipper, Commander Tom Phillips, has spent half his 37 years in the Navy. He too admits a career on subs isn’t for everyone. “You can’t knock off at 5.30 and go home for a beer,” he says.

“It’s an intense environment for a very long time; submariners can tend to be quite eccentric, they’re a quirky bunch, generally very intelligent too.

“But for a young, single person I think it’s a great job. You get to hang out with a bunch of mates, on a boat, going from port to port and having fun and having a career. If you’re after adventure you couldn’t beat it.”