Perth - Submarine Ovens

Fremantle has a thing about sea-going - prolly on account that it's on the sea - and so its maritime museum comes in three parts; the museum proper, the shipwreck galleries and a dirty-great big submarine.

We're going to start large...

Submarine Ovens. While one shouldn't assume the worst, it's probably up on blocks 'cos some local scally has nicked all the wheels.
The pointy-end. This has all the good stuff; torpedo tubes, sonar and an escape hatch.
The way this works is this: The submarine is basically a tube full of equipment and very smelly sailors. On the sides are ballast tanks that keeps the boat positively buoyant when it wants to be on the surface and neutrally buoyant when it wants to sink. The actual sinking is done by the props and hydroplanes. Got that? Good.
You get in down this hatch. It's a bit cramped because when you have a sealed tube under-water, you don't want big holes in it. There's another one at the other end.
This is the inside of the pointy-end and, yes, those are the torpedo tubes. Although submarines do other things, they mainly exist for these. Their main role seems to be sneaking up on things and making holes in them.
The boat comes in 6 main sections and between each there is a hatch that can be used to seal them off if someone leaves the outside door open or something.
Whenever the sub gets to play with someone else - as long as it is a friendly someone else - they exchance plaques and stick them on the ceiling.
This is where the crew sleeps. There are beds crammed into every available space all over the sub. You would really have to sleep soundly with the other watches walking up and down your bedroom.
The kitchen - small, eh.
Though this looks like a fancy under-water toilet, it is, in fact, the rubbish bin. Unable to just chuck stuff over the side, they have to make sure it will sink once ejected rather than, say, getting washed up on a Chinese beach. Which, of course, they have never been anywhere near ever. Honest.
Top-secrect torpedo-steering equipment. It is, apparently, much better to steer torpedos at unsuspecting ships than pointing them in the general direction and hoping for the best. It's probably all computers these days.
The central hatch up the conning tower.
Where the driver sits - or, in this case, where the dummy sits. As I'm not really up to speed on naval humour, I'm not going to take this any further. Must be weird, though, to drive without a window. I'm not even sure a window would help all that much. Most water would be too murky to see much anyway.
Top-secret communications equipment. It's probably all computers these days.
The engines. These are really used to charge up the batteries and don't drive anything at all. That is one hell of a battery charger.
We never really got to see the batteries - I mean, how interesting are a couple of million doulbe-As anyway? This is where they make sure there is enough juice to keep things going.
Just a walk-way, really, but gives you an idea of all the stuff that has to be bolted in to make everything work.
The officer's accommodation is better that the rest of the crew's - but not by very much.
There are a couple of torpedo tubes at the blunt end, too. I suppose they are a sort of 'and another thing' weapon when you're making a run for it.
And that's the blunt end outside.
And those are torpedos. From what I can gather, the technology on these bad-boys evolves very slowly indeed. Some of these wouldn't look out of place in WWII, apparently.