Chapter 1, Section 5, pp 44-47
THE BIRTH OF SEA BEAM
Each evening I would sit around the dinner
table with my wife and four alert children, and often talk about the
happenings at General Instrument. I was so lucky to have an exciting job
to share with an interested family. Some evenings I would come home and
talk about the functions of a radar warning receiver; other nights, the
discussion revolved around an upcoming trip to a Defense Electronics
Show in Paris.
At times I would bring home information about
the undersea mapping systems. I found this project an exciting one that
started with the germ of an idea from two innovative engineers, Howard
Lustig and Arthur Rossoff, in our Hicksville, New York facility. Their
original concept was to develop a multi-beam radar system and install it
into a U. S. Air Force airplane. The aircraft would then be flown over
the Soviet Union to map the contour of their territory. This happened at
the beginning of the cold war, almost one-half century ago. However, the
program did not continue due to circumstances that discouraged the Air
Force from proceeding.
At that point we had a brilliant idea without
a home. Fortunately, our ingenious engineers from the transducer
facility, Don White and Harold Farr, came up with a clever variation to
this multi-beam concept. Their idea was to have it used with a
multi-beam sonar system. It would be installed on a ship to map the
ocean bottom, instead of an airplane.
General Instrument fortuitously purchased a
small division in Boston started by a sonar engineer named Wilber
Harris. This division was the basis for the multi-beam system. The unit,
Harris Transducer Division made projectors and receivers for the sonar
industry. On a memorable day in early 1960, Howard and Arthur paid a
visit to the key engineers at Harris, Harold Farr and Donald White. They
discussed the possibility of using the latest in computer technology to
invent a system that would be able to make real-time maps of the ocean
bottom.
They approached the U. S. Navy with this
extremely creative concept. After six months of proposal writing and
making presentations to key Navy officials, the idea was finally funded.
The Navy gave the project to a young, aggressive engineer at the Naval
Material Laboratory, Steve Kochansky. Coincidentally, I had worked with
Steve ten years before in the Brooklyn Navy Yard. Although I had nothing
to do with the design, my relationship with Steve was helpful when the
program would get bogged down.
Two years later an initial system was
installed on a research ship called the Compass Island. The concept
worked even though the computer was unreliable. This system would
automatically generate maps as the ship steamed along, instead of
requiring dozens of cartographers to draw contour lines of the ocean's
bottom. After the initial program, a new contract was funded for four
additional systems called the Sonar Array Sounding System.
As these four systems were delivered during
the late 1960's the ocean began to get mapped in earnest. It was now
possible to get accurate detailed data of the ocean bottom. Hundreds of
maps were created that made layers beneath the ocean visible to
scientists and military people alike. Initially, the systems were used
for highly classified projects. During the Cold War they were used to
track the path and location of Russian submarines throughout the world.
(1) The U.S. Navy forbade us to discuss the concept with other
nations because of the very sensitive nature of the data.
There was continued disagreement between the
scientists who wanted to use the data for oceanographic purposes, and
the military people who wanted the data to remain classified because of
its military significance. Ultimately, General Instrument personnel
convinced the Navy that if we did not sell it to other countries, they
would eventually develop it themselves. It was clear that multi-beam
technology was here to stay with the advent of more powerful computers.
For years there were problems with the hand
drawn charts of the middle of the Atlantic Ocean. There were so many
irregularities that the work of the cartographers was stymied. The year
1974 was designated as FAMOUS, which was symbolic for the
French-American Mid-Ocean Undersea Study. It was a year dedicated to
increased understanding of our ocean surfaces. The French were given the
challenge of getting the mapped data about the entire middle Atlantic
ridge. The French had the macro responsibility while the Americans had
the micro responsibility.
The only way to see the overall bottom of the
ocean surface was to use a multibeam sonar system and General Instrument
was the only company to have such a system. We were called to Paris to
negotiate a contract for our system. The French were egocentric about
their technical abilities and were also very sensitive about the fact
that they needed to buy such technology from the United States. (General
Instrument had the patent for the technology.)
The program manager, Don White, and I spent a long week in Paris trying
to negotiate an agreement with their Hydrographic Office. To make
matters more difficult, the office at Idlewild Airport (renamed John F.
Kennedy Airport) passed a ruling that limited
the number of planes allowed to land at that airport. The ruling annoyed
the French even more because the U.S was squeezing Air France out of the
airline market. So they were not happy about purchasing a Sea Beam from
an American company. In fact, the French negotiator told me off the
record that if the technology could have been bought "anywhere in the
world other than the United States, they would have done so."
Although they hated us that week, we just
hung in there. When I reported back to the General Manager, he said
something I have quoted many times since I became a General Manager.
He said, "the art of negotiation is the art
of keeping the seat of one's pants upon the seat of one's chair."
The negotiations were made more difficult by
the fact that they insisted on keeping it in French, so we needed the
contract translated line by line. We later discovered over dinner and a
few bottles of wine, that the French negotiators were instructed to give
us a hard time. We all laughed about this, and a while later we had our
contract.
For years, two divisions worked on this
multi-beam sonar system. The Hicksville division worked on the
electronics, while the Boston division worked on the sonar portion of
the system. Because this was a very sophisticated and highly classified
project, I always had to be careful not to release any classified
material. Typically, I would tell others the name of the system (Sonar
Array Sounding System) and that it was used to find things in the bottom
of the ocean, like treasures. I never actually said anything about its
real purpose.
Years later the security classification was
downgraded and our company received permission to sell comparable
systems to friendly foreign governments. The U.S. government insisted
that the system sold overseas should be significantly downgraded in
performance.
In order to separate the high performance
system used by the United States Navy (referred by its complicated name,
Sonar Array Sounding System or SASS) from the commercial version, we
decided to create a new name. General Instrument was looking for a
catchy name that distinguished itself from the Navy's, but that was also
descriptive of its function. At that time, both the electronic and sonar
portions of the commercial version were being built in Boston. I visited
the Boston facility once a month to check on its progress.
One night after a monthly trip to Boston, I told my family that the
project managers of the commercial version of SASS were looking for a
new name. This task fascinated my kids and they started to ask questions
about the systems' function. I explained how the system worked under the
ocean to send many sonar beams to the ocean floor. After several minutes
on the subject, the kids started to throw out suggestions. Among the
many suggestions one potential name was Ocean Mapper and the other was
Sea Mapping System. Suddenly, our youngest son who was nine years old,
but very good with words, came out with the name SEA BEAM. Immediately
the others repeated "Sea Beam, yes that sounds good. Sea Beam! Yes!"
They said, "That sounds good." And so Sea Beam was born.
We delivered the Sea Beam to the French in
time to meet the "1974 Year of Exploration" and several of our engineers
were there to use the system in the mid-Atlantic. They returned with
stories about what they found. In the middle of the Atlantic we saw a
huge gully that was later called the Mid-Atlantic Ridge. It was this
data that showed that the plates under the ocean were actually
separating causing Europe and North America to move apart.
Over the next forty years hundreds of scientific discoveries were made
possible with the use of Sea Beam. Sea Beam systems were delivered to
Australia, Japan, Korea and others. Eventually, our patent ran out and
the French and Germans started to manufacture Sea Beam type systems. But
the name Sea Beam began at a kitchen table when a young boy thought of a
catchy name for this very important system. |