Size Matters. Or Does It?

The conundrum of what defines and differentiates a boat from a ship never will be resolved to universal acceptance. Everyone has their own conceptual definition and perspective, and there is no absolute. My person-al perspective is that any vessel that requires a dry dock for below-waterline repairs or bottom work—and is too large to be hoisted out of the water for access—is a ship.

In his Seamanship column [July/ August 20191, the author states that the Buckley-class destroyer escorts, at 306 feet and 1,673 tons, are the small-est U.S. naval vessels to be considered ships? I would challenge that statement by asking how he would define the oceangoing, fleet-capable Aggres-sive class of naval minesweepers (MSOs) developed after the Korean War. At 172 feet in length and displac-ing about 800 tons, power was provid-ed by four diesel engines turning two shafts equipped with controllable-pitch propellers. Consequently, MSOs were very nimble and maneuverable for their size. Top speed was about 14 knots. In the early 1960s, I served aboard USS Venture, MSO-496, based in Panama City, Florida. I don't recall anyone ever referring to our ship as a boat, perhaps because there were smaller classes of minesweeping vessels, including MSCs (coastal) and MSBs (boats). Slang usage in the Navy, of course, is different. For many crew-members, anything that floats is a boat.

—Bruce Elliot, U.S. Navy lieutenant commander, retired, La Conner, Washington Points well received, Bruce. You're right by the way, in suggesting that there's no absolute when personal perspective is involved. Heck, by my overly simplistic view, if it floats, it's a boat I reckon I'd do well in the crew quarters. Thank you for your letter, and especially for your service.