JP/19/SUB1

Submarine surfaces as tourist attraction in Surabaya

On Dec. 5 the Indonesian Navy celebrated its 60th birthday in Surabaya.

There was a parade and other events to mark this important day, though most were for VIPs at the docks.

The closest ordinary people get to a warship is alongside a McDonald's restaurant. The Jakarta Post contributor Duncan Graham reports:

What do you do with a weapon of mass destruction when it has passed its use-by date?

Fighter aircraft and artillery are often turned into memorials. Warships are cut up for scrap unless the vessel is in a high-cost labor country where the expense of demolition is more than the worth of the metal.

Australia is such a nation. The Down Under answer is to sink decommissioned craft near popular beaches where they become recreational diving spots and a fish refuge.

The Surabaya solution has been to turn a killing machine into a tourist attraction.

In the heart of Indonesia's second-largest city and alongside a major shopping mall squats Pasopati 410. Once a pride of the Indonesian Navy, this massive submarine is now a quietly rusting hull looking like a sad beached whale far from its aquatic home.

Certainly incongruous, absolutely grotesque, bizarrely fascinating.

Ten years ago it began its slow journey from undersea to parking lot. Cut into 16 slices, the 1,050 tonne steel sausage was trucked inland piece by piece, reassembled and renamed Monkasel.

This is an acronym constructed from Monument Kapal Selam, or submarine monument.

The idea, floated by the then regional governor, was to encourage tourism, preserve the nation's maritime history, stress nationality, honor heroes and the "motivate the society to love the sea."

Built in Vladivostok in 1952, it entered the Indonesian Navy's Eastern Fleet 10 years later when then president Sukarno preferred communist arms suppliers. It saw service in the campaign to force the Dutch out of Papua, but to the great good fortune of all mariners enjoyed a passive life.

It seems that Pasopati 410 (named after a traditional Javanese arrow) was employed as an intimidator rather than destroyer, for there is no record of the monster firing any of its 12 torpedoes in anger.

Visitors who pay Rp 5,000 (US 50 cents) may get a guided tour of the interior if they wake the dozing pseudo sailor girls in their saucy uniforms.

Sadly their mumbling presentation is unlikely to honor heroes or inspire a love of the distant sea. They certainly don't welcome visitors and their ability to answer nonstandard questions is zero.

There are no brochures or signs in English so anyone without a good knowledge of Indonesian will find themselves adrift.

Despite these annoyances, a visit repays the effort. The 63 crew who drove this 76 meter metal fish were certainly brave men and the tour worthwhile just to see what they had to endure. The experience is not recommended for the claustrophobic.

Negotiating the engine room, bridge, crew quarters and other chambers is hazardous as the interior bristles with head-high valves and hip-level levers, all designed to crack skulls and tangle bag straps.

Imagine what it was like in action on a swelling sea, the thumping, stinking diesel engines sharing the same cramped space with men working, eating and sleeping.

Then there was the ever-present fear of a leak or equipment malfunction while deep underwater. Russian subs have a poor reputation for safety, even now.

The official histories don't tell the full story. After the fall of Sukarno in 1965 all things Soviet were off-limits, and that included spare parts for the former Russian ships (see sidebar).

Pasopati was one of 14 Whiskey-class submarines bought from the Russians. This underwater fleet rapidly surfaced and diminished as vessels were cannibalized to keep their sister craft operational.

Surabaya is a major naval port and exhibiting an old submarine helps keep the past alive. Where else can you find such an attraction outside your hotel window? Other major cities have subways; Surabaya has a sub.

Kiosks and cafes have been built around Monkasel and alongside the murky waters of the misnamed Kali Mas (Gold River). The area has become Surabaya's substitute for lovers' lane, a popular weekend spot for young couples who need time to themselves away from prying eyes and puritanical parents: "We're just going to the mall, Mum, have a bite at McD then do a history assignment. We won't go outside the area. No need to worry."

Maybe it's better this way. The submarine was preserved to help stimulate nationalism, but most visitors to Monkasel now prefer to make love, not war.

(Monkasel is open from 8 a.m. to 9 p.m. on weekdays and to 10 p.m. on weekends.)