THE DISCOVERY OF THE DUTCH CRUISERS JAVA AND DE RUYTER

Kevin Denlay

What made us change course that morning I’ll never know. We had been steaming due south on a set course, west of Bawean Island in the Java Sea and since late the previous evening, been heading for a known dive site. Having just spent a couple of days without diving, side-scan sonar searching - without luck - for the famous British heavy cruiser HMS Exeter, we wanted to ‘get in the water’. Our group consisted of a mixed bunch of divers from Singapore, Australia, USA and the United Kingdom, and our plan was to steam directly south almost to the coast of the island of Java, turn to port (left) and proceed east until we arrived at what remains of the destroyer HMS Jupiter. After diving Jupiter we then planed to carry on to Bali, with a few more dives along the way, as our expedition only had three days before we had to disembark. However - on a whim - rather than proceed to the Java coast as planned we turned to port much sooner so as to cut across at a slight angle and save some time getting to the dive site. As usual on our transits we were towing a side scan sonar ‘fish’ and within half an hour of changing course we had imaged a very large wreck in about 69 meters of water! Where we changed course had been a completely random decision, had we waited just another minute before altering course we would have steamed right on by the wreck, unaware that it was even there. That’s right, sometimes you just get lucky. It was
December 1st, 2002.

We were on board MV Empress, the renowned South East Asian wreck diving vessel, with the very experienced skipper Vidar Skoglie at the helm. He now spent about half an hour slowly going back and forth over the site until he was happy with the lay of the wreck and the prevailing current before dropping anchor and letting the current align Empress directly over the top of the wreck. Breakfast would just have to wait, and an air of anticipation permeated the dive deck as divers excitedly readied their gear and a down line was hooked into the wreck. Vidar was first in, as usual going ahead to make sure the line was set. I followed soon after. What were we going to find???

Dropping through the water column anticipation mounted even further until suddenly at around 60 meters I came to a massive jagged hole - on the now upturned side of the ship - that had that familiar look of being torpedoed. Visibility was only about 6 meters or so, so Vidar laid line from the tie off point and I followed this over to the deck side of the ship which was now orientated vertically. Within moments I had swam by a large gun mount, a single barrel pointing defiantly upwards with huge shell casings scattered about beneath it. This was a warship! Swimming further on I passed a funnel with a very unusual ‘baffled’ base and another large gun mount, identical to the previous one with even more shells casing scattered about. Not only was this a warship but a large one at that and she had gone down fighting. After spending some time in this general area I now slowly retraced my steps towards the down line, videoing as I went, marveling at what I was seeing and our good fortune.

Venturing further on past where our down line was tied in, the wreck appeared to end abruptly in a jagged mess, from what must have been a terrific explosion. (As it turns out almost 40 meters of the wrecks stern is missing, sheared off by the torpedo hit that sank her.) Returning back along what was once the centre line of the ship, slightly deeper than before, I passed several twin mounted 40mm Bofors guns, much smaller than the single main guns I had seen previously, all arrayed fairly close together. My bottom time had now run out and with some lengthy deco ahead of me I headed for the down line and the inevitable slow ascent to the surface. Large schools of Batfish and Trevally circled the line as I ascended, and, upon reaching the deco station, numerous Remoras were circling that to. And much to the consternation of several divers, they were darting in and attaching themselves to a divers leg or fin whenever they could!

Back on board everyone was elated, stories were swapped at what we had seen and the reference books pulled out. It was soon obvious, from her unusual gun layout and ‘baffled’ funnel bases that we had discovered HNLMS Java, a Dutch light cruiser that was sunk in the Battle of the Java Sea. (See side bar) Another dive that afternoon had us exploring the intact open bridge - with the helm and telegraphs still in place - and the surrounding forward area. Large searchlights that had festooned the foremast lay collapsed beneath it on the seabed and her main fore guns were still trained menacingly to port. (Java lies on her starboard side, her shallowest spot about 57 meters.) Doorways beneath the bridge lay open and rows of portholes were evident, some of them also open. However, all too soon it was again time to ascend.

Now came the quandary, we had only one day left to dive before having to make haste for Bali, what should we do? From the historical records we knew that lost nearby at the same time was another Dutch cruiser, HNLMS De Ruyter. Should we stay and explore Java further or initiate a search for De Ruyter? Our answer came from an unexpected quarter. All day we had noted a group of Javanese fishing boats sitting in one spot on the horizon, so on a hunch Vidar decided to go over and use the side scan to ‘see’ what they were fishing on. If it was nothing we would continue searching through the night and at worst come back and dive Java in the morning. Arriving just on dusk and making a close pass by the anchored fishing boats we were astounded to see another large wreck in approximately 67 meters, but from the shape of the side scan image possibility sitting upright! Could we really be so fortunate? It was now almost dark and too late to dive that day so we anchored up and, straining to contain the excitement, settled in for the evening already quite pleased with ourselves.

It took no time in the morning for Empress to be in position over the wreck and a down line secured. Conditions were ideal on the surface, glassy calm with just a slight current. As usual Vidar was in first and the rest of us wasted no time in following. Visibility seemed superb, but upon reaching about 40 meters a strange site confronted us. From above, a thermocline that started at about 50 meters looked for all the world like a layer of dense fog, and protruding up through this ‘fog’ was a large rangefinder - looking for all the world like the conning tower of a submarine sticking above the surface - its base simply disappearing into the milky layer. Another warship! Dropping beneath the thermocline visibility again gradually dropped to around 8 meters and the temperature dropped 6 degrees also! It was De Ruyter, recognizable by her unique bridge superstructure and the large searchlights surrounding it. She had settled on an angle, tilted over to starboard with her deck now at about sixty degrees from horizontal. As luck would have it we had snagged the grapple into the upper level of this superstructure at about 50 meters, just a few meters deeper than the rangefinder which is the shallowest point. Given that I was very unfamiliar with the layout and condition of the wreck I decided to spend this first dive exploring the bridge and surrounding area to get my bearings.

Many doorways lay open, and swimming through one I came to the helm and telegraphs, obviously the wheelhouse. Exiting through the lower (starboard) door at around 60 meters I turned left and swam around the front of the bridge, coming almost immediately to a single barreled gun turret. Its’ rear door was open and behind it lay a pile of large empty shell casings. One can just imagine the gun crew throwing the empty casings out in haste as they fired round after round during their final battle against the Japanese forces. Swimming further forward another turret came into view, this time with two barnacle encrusted barrels pointing downward and large optical rangefinders protruding out either side at the rear of the turret. If there was any doubt as to the identity of the wreck this confirmed it, as only De Ruyter had this unusual configuration of forward turrets. (Because of political wrangling in Holland at the time of her design De Ruyter was fitted with one single and one dual gun turret forward so as to save money in construction.) Returning back past the single turret, where the forward superstructure meets the main deck l saw what looked like a small torpedo. That seemed strange to say the least. However, upon closer inspection it turned out to be a paravane, a towed device used for sweeping moored mines. Looking at my Vr3 dive computer I saw it was time to go as I had spent almost thirty minutes poking around videoing and the decompression penalty was steadily mounting. How time fly’s when you're having fun!

On the surface, while the others relaxed and we swapped stories of what we had seen I repacked my scrubber with carbon dioxide absorbent (I was diving a Mk15.5 closed circuit rebreather) and mixed up another batch of trimix 10/50 (10% oxygen, 50% helium, balance nitrogen). At a depth of 65 meters this mix would give me an equivalent nitrogen depth of only 28 meters (i.e. the equivalent narcosis effect to diving air at 28 meters), just right for exploring at depth with a clear head! After a surface interval that seemed like a lifetime, but was only several hours, it was time to get back in the water and explore some more. Dropping down abaft the bridge the first thing to come into view was the funnel, broken at the base and partly collapsed onto the seabed. Nearby was the large crane used for retrieving the two scout/observation float planes the ship normally carried. (These two planes were not on board when De Ruyter sunk as they had been taken off just prior to the battle.) A short way further aft the tracks that the float planes were launched from were clearly visible and they terminated upon meeting the aft deckhouse. Atop this sat five sets of twin 40mm Bofors antiaircraft guns arranged around a central fire control director - from which the upper rangefinder had fallen off - above which a massive school of Trevally circled leisurely.

It was just aft of a similar Bofors station on Java where that wreck terminated abruptly in a tangled mess, would it be the same on De Ruyter, as she had also been hit aft by a torpedo? Dropping down deeper into the gloom I came to the top of the third main turret, its twin barrels pointing directly astern. Dropping down yet another level I encountered the fourth or last turret, its dual guns also pointing astern. Looking upwards I could just make out the silhouette of what looked like a split in the port deck edge, just aft of this last turret. Swimming up to it I could see that a large gash ran down the port side of the ship, possibly the result of the torpedo hit and/or magazine explosion. However, unlike Java, De Ruyters’ stern did not appear to be completely severed, more like the hull had just been fatally holed.

I now retraced my steps along what was once the port deck, again passing empty 15cm shell casings, the odd 40mm shell and open doorways and hatches all leading into the bowels of the ship. As I neared the base of the bridge it was comforting to see my See Blitz strobe flashing away, guiding my path to the downline that lead to the decompression station and surface supplied oxygen.

On board that night we reflected on how fortunate we had been to have discovered these two cruisers when in fact we weren’t even looking for them. It’s not every day that you get to dive a virgin wreck before breakfast, let alone two of them! However, Lady Luck still had one hand to play and another surprise in store for us. During the day some local fisherman had come onboard and in return for some fuel that Vidar gave them they had reciprocated with the location of one of their fishing positions, supposedly another wreck about one hundred miles away. Although it was not directly on our course to Bali, given how lucky we had been, we decided to do a small detour while traveling that night and see if our fortune held. Sure enough, the next morning found us over another wreck, this one in almost 75 meters. We had only time for one dive and it turned out to be an armed Japanese merchant vessel, possibly the Manyo Maru, sitting upright with its stern missing, perhaps a victim of the relentless US submarine offensive against Japanese shipping in this area as WW11 gained momentum.

We now had to make haste for Bali as time was of the essence. We had dived three new uncharted wrecks in three days, two of them warships, it just doesn’t get much better than that! All told, on our journey down from Singapore, we had actually found twelve uncharted wrecks with the side scan, but only had the time to dive five of them. The others would just have to wait. Why is it so often the case, on so many expeditions, that it is not until the expedition is winding down that the discoveries are made, leaving little time to explore? I guess it’s so that you have no choice but to mount another expedition in the future to go back and explore them properly!

Expedition Members. Vidar Skoglie, Alice Skoglie, Phil Yutter, Clive Merifield, Steve Merifield, Maurice McAulife, Mark Steele, Peter Daykin, Kevin Denlay. The author travels exclusively on Garuda Airways whenever he is diving in Indonesia. He can be contacted at altdive@ozemail.com.au

Vidar Skoglie/MV Empress can be contacted at vidar@octa4.net.au
2004 Java Sea Expedition. Another MV Empress expedition to the Java Sea during November 2004 will revisit De Ruyter and Java and also HMAS Perth, USS Houston, a Soviet built destroyer and other recently discovered (2003) virgin wrecks. At the time of writing a few spaces still remain and interested parties should contact the author at altdive@ozemail.com.au

The Sinking of the Dutch Cruisers De Ruyter and Java
The Battle of the Java Sea had waxed and waned since mid afternoon and it was now late in the evening of the 27th February, 1942. Admiral Karel Doorman, the Dutch commander of the allied fleet, had already lost three destroyers and had been forced to dispatch his remaining ones for refueling, along with the damaged heavy cruiser HMS Exeter which had also limped off into the darkness. What was left of the Allied Striking Force or ‘ABDAFLOAT’ was a single all cruiser column now lead by the flagship HNMS De Ruyter, followed in line by HMAS Perth, USS Houston and HNMS Java. These ships were also low on fuel and ammunition and their sailors exhausted from being at their battle stations for much of the previous twenty four hours. However, Doorman’s orders were unequivocal; to stop the Japanese invasion of Java at all costs. He intended to carry out those orders or die trying. This would soon come to pass.

Doorman’s determination showed as he tried again and again to break through to get at the Japanese transport fleet now to his north. Shortly before midnight HIJMS Nachi and HIJMS Haguro, the Japanese heavy cruisers protecting the transports, fired a brace of torpedoes at the luckless allied column. Suddenly, astern of Houston, Java erupted in a terrifying explosion. A torpedo had hit port side aft near an ammunition magazine, completely severing her stern. Java’s bow immediately reared high in the air and she very quickly sank, taking almost all her crew with her. (Less than 50 of her crew of 560 were rescued by the Japanese!) Just moments later another deafening explosion erupted ahead of Perth. This time it was De Ruyter, also hit aft by a torpedo, and Perth had to veer off sharply to avoid a collision with the stricken flagship. Soon De Ruyter too was gone, and with her Admiral Doorman and 344 of her crew of 435. Perth and Houston respectfully followed Doorman’s last order “not to stop for survivors” and retired to Tanjong Priok (Jakarta) to refuel. Regrettably, twenty four hours later they too would be sunk in a fierce battle at the mouth of Sunda Strait and, later the same day, Exeter would also be lost in another separate engagement. So ended the desperate naval defense of the Dutch East Indies. The island of Java, along with much of Asia, would soon be completely in the hands of the Japanese and the war in the Pacific was but three months old!

Although his battle experience was limited, the Dutch admiral had fought as gallantly as any in his country’s history. However his ‘Allied Striking Force’, assembled of ships from several nations, had been hamstrung from the start; they had no common signal procedures, they had never operated together and they had no air reconnaissance. For this they paid the ultimate price.