Navy Torpedo Myths: Why a 2,700-Ton Frigate Isn't a 100,000-Ton Carrier
A viral video showing a torpedo snapping a small warship in half has fueled a dangerous myth about naval power. The clip, featuring the destruction of the HMAS Torrens during a test, has been used by internet commentators to claim that any modern ship, even a supercarrier, would suffer the same fate. That claim defies basic physics and threatens to undermine America's naval readiness.
The reality is that equating a 2,700-ton frigate with a 100,000-ton aircraft carrier or an armored battleship is a serious error. This faulty narrative has real consequences for how the Navy builds and equips its fleet, potentially leaving our sailors more vulnerable in combat.
What the Torpedo Video Actually Shows
The HMAS Torrens was a River-class escort, a lightly built vessel never designed to survive a direct hit from a heavy torpedo. For a ship her size, the explosion created a gas bubble wider than the vessel itself. The expanding bubble pushed the middle of the ship upward while the bow and stern lagged, a motion called hogging. When the bubble collapsed, the center section plunged into an empty void while the ends stayed elevated, known as sagging. This rapid flexing, called whipping, snapped the ship's keel.
But that outcome says nothing about how a much larger, more robust warship would respond. The physics are entirely different.
Why Size and Design Matter in Torpedo Attacks
For a torpedo to create a full under-keel bubble, it must detonate some 30 to 40 feet beneath the ship's bottom. At that distance, almost all of the warhead's energy never reaches the vessel. Roughly half goes into a spherical shock wave, with only a small cap striking the hull for a few milliseconds. The other half forms the gas cavity, but after heat, mixing, and expansion losses, less than 1 percent of the original energy is transmitted into the ship's steel bottom.
That small remnant is spread out over hundreds of square feet on a frigate but thousands of square feet on a battleship or carrier. The impact per square foot is only a fraction of what a direct contact attack would generate. A large capital ship is also designed to handle the hogging and sagging forces created by rough seas, making it far more resilient to the bending moments that broke the Torrens.
The Real Threat: Direct Contact Attacks
If the goal is to maximize damage on a large capital ship, the vastly more effective attack mode is a direct strike on the hull. That provides maximum transmission of destructive energy into the ship's interior.
An Iowa-class battleship's side torpedo defense system (TDS) was designed to protect interior spaces from torpedoes carrying up to 700 pounds of TNT. A modern Mark 48 torpedo, carrying 1,200 pounds of TNT equivalent, would breach the Iowa's TDS and cause significant interior flooding. However, the damage would be far less severe than if the TDS had not absorbed the vast majority of the energy.
U.S. supercarriers have even more space for a deeper TDS than an Iowa, potentially providing enough protection to avoid flooding from a single Mark 48 hit. While exact details are classified, the extra size offers a significant defensive advantage.
The USS Cole Attack Shows the Real Danger
For comparison, consider the attack on the USS Cole in October 2000. The 9,000-ton Arleigh Burke-class destroyer was hit by a point-blank surface explosion of roughly 600 to 700 pounds of explosives. The blast tore a massive 40-by-40-foot gash into its thin steel side hull. A single Mark 48 torpedo carries nearly double that explosive power for underwater detonations and would have been vastly more devastating, likely sinking the ship.
If the Cole had suffered the same under-keel attack that destroyed the Torrens, its much greater size and stronger Level 3 construction would have resulted in significantly less damage.
Why This Myth Hurts American Naval Power
The popular narrative that a single torpedo can magically break any hull regardless of size has dangerous implications. It suggests that spending money on defensive armor, triple bottoms, and structural redundancy is a waste of resources. This logic encourages a procurement strategy focused exclusively on packing expensive, fragile electronics into warships under the assumption they can simply avoid getting hit.
That assumption is increasingly unrealistic. Superior staying power provides cost-effective increases in both offensive and defensive capability. A ship that can absorb damage, control flooding, and stay in the fight is a more lethal platform than one that relies solely on not being targeted.
None of this should imply that a Mark 48 torpedo is anything less than lethal. Most modern warships would be lucky to survive a single hit. But the standoff under-keel bubble mode is not the way to attack an Iowa, a carrier, or perhaps even a large destroyer. A contact attack, whether slamming directly into the side or detonating at point-blank range, will do far more damage.
Equating a 2,700-ton escort to a battleship or carrier is bound to result in faulty narratives that perpetuate the Navy's unwillingness to incorporate more staying power into its warships. For a nation that depends on sea power for its security and prosperity, that is a mistake we cannot afford.