Editor’s Note: This column was previously published on Jan. 20, 1999. It was part of a series of columns called “Lunch with Tim.”

When Rod Caprai explained why he’d be an interesting lunch partner, I didn’t quibble.

“I may be the only Boisean who has been in an underwater collision with a Soviet nuclear submarine, “ he said.

And how many people can say that?

Caprai wanted to talk about it because he finally can. Submariners don’t talk about their work, because it’s so secret. Caprai went 29 years without telling his story. So you can imagine his surprise when he saw it last month on “60 Minutes.”

The story was about a collision between a Soviet submarine, the Black Lila, and an American nuclear submarine off the coast of Russia in 1970. Caprai, now the owner of a Meridian equipment business, was part of the navigation crew of the U.S.S. Tautog.

“Our job was to follow Russian subs and take them out in the event of nuclear war, “ he said. “... We should have backed off, but some of our captains were risk-takers. They tried to outdo each other.

“I was studying in the sonar room when it happened. I thought we’d been bombed.”

A hundred feet longer than a football field, Black Lila tore through the Tautog’s sail, the tower on a submarine’s hull.

“People were thrown everywhere. The spot where I’d been studying was where the sonar equipment landed. It was smoking and sparking, and we were taking on water. I was scared to death.”

The Black Lila headed for the bottom and was presumed lost. The Tautog didn’t search for wreckage or survivors. The Navy was more concerned with security than with the lives of Russian sailors.

The Tautog limped to Pearl Harbor, where it was ordered to land after dark with all of its lights off. In port, a drape was used to hide the damage.

The secretary of Defense notified President Nixon, who opted for silence. The hit and run of a nuclear submarine with more firepower than all of the bombs dropped in World War II never was reported to the Soviet Union or the American people.

“It was the sort of thing they were afraid would take us to the brink of war, “ Caprai said. “We had a cover story that we’d hit a derelict hulk.”

Caprai was 21. Now 50, he spent his adult life believing the Russians died.

Until he saw “60 Minutes.”

“I thought they were all dead, and, suddenly, here was this old guy holding up a piece of our boat.”

The “old guy” was the Black Lila’s captain, who surfaced after the breakup of the Soviet Union to say his ship had survived. The incident is a chapter in “Blind Man’s Bluff, “ a new book on submarine espionage.

Caprai still has nightmares about it. In his dreams, he walks the corridors of a submarine and sees faces of crew members, draped in cobwebs.

He wishes he’d known the truth sooner.

“I never felt responsible, because I wasn’t calling the shots, “ he said. “But I felt bad for the Russians. When I finally knew, I thanked God they didn’t go down. For all those years, I thought 110 young men died because we were doing our cat and mouse game.”

Was any of it necessary?

“It was the Cold War, “ he said. “It’s the way it was.”

If you’ve got a favorite column Tim wrote that you’d like to see in print again, send headline or key words to Niki Forbing-Orr at nforbing-orr@idahostatesman.com.