I read an article by Stephen King about a story's opening
line…like it’s THE most important part of any story. So here are a few…
“Call me Jeffrey.” Not quite the same…
“Hello, I’m Jeffrey Dow.” No…I don’t have the pipes like the
Man in Black
“It was the best of time, it was the…ok of times?” Really
not good…
Just a lot of pressure…anyways…
For you, loyal readers, this is a prequel to The Parachute I
& II…so it’s the third part of a trilogy…that is first…whatever…
So, as recounted in the aforementioned Parachute…it had been
a BRUTUAL buoy trip. A good pounding on
the way to GANTSEC (awesome acronym that basically means the Coast Guard Base
in San Juan, PR) and a major casualty to one of our Main Diesel Engines made
the trip just short of insufferable…ok, it really was right at insufferable
forget “nothing short of” crap.
Our sojourn to GTMO lay several weeks ahead of us and we
were steaming along the south side of Puerto Rico. It was hot, morale was low, and we were days
if not weeks behind schedule. The
Captain had been aboard for six months and the XO reported only a few weeks
before sailing. The entire crew was
sluggish and clearly wanted to be somewhere other than USCGC LAUREL.
In early stage of my career my primary duty was serving as
the Executive Officers Admin Assistant.
Which meant I did his bidding…not a glamorous position. I took care of the basic admin for the XO;
correspondence, plan of the day, working with the yeoman and storekeeper. I thought it was a bad collateral job and a
dead end…I was wrong. [EDITOR’S NOTE: I learned A TON about being an XO and running
a cutter which was INVALUABLE for my next tour…hey what did I know…I was an
Ensign].
So, we were transiting along Puerto Rico’s south shore enroute
another harbor to work buoys. It was
hot…I mean HOT…like hit in the head with a sledgehammer hot, humid to make you
drown if you took too deep a breath hot.
It was less than fun on a trip that had descended into boredom, and
increasing delays. In summation:
“For the most part it stays on its
regular run from Tedium to Apathy and back.
It makes and occasional trip to Monotony, and once it made a run all the
way to Ennui. It performs its dreary and
unthanked job, and it performs it, if not inspiredly, then at least adequately.”
[EDITOR’S NOTE: Significant bonus points to the first to identify that quote
and the significance to my tour on LAUREL.]
With this as the backdrop…enter the XO. The astute reader will remember that the XO
had only recently reported aboard LAUREL and did so with no buoy tending
experience…the dreaded “white hull sailor” and the strict adherence to rules
and regulations, spit and polish, yes sir, no sir, three bags full sir. We, the Junior Officers, feared this newcomer
and what he might just represent. Well,
were we ever wrong—but we didn’t know that yet.
So, we were transiting south of Puerto Rico. It was a Sunday as I recall and we august
members of the Wardroom had gathered in front of the XO stateroom for our daily
Officer’s Call (basically a meeting to get a rundown of the day). Quarters, an all hands meeting on the
fantail, immediately follows Officer’s Call.
There are six of us patiently waiting for XO to exit his
stateroom—Officer’s Call is his meeting.
XO opens his stateroom door wearing a set of deck coveralls
and proceeds to give us a run down of day’s schedule and upcoming items on the
ship’s calendar. Through all of this I
am eyeing the XO in his coveralls…we are all in our standard undress blue
uniform; suitable for working on the bridge but the XO was attired to be on the
buoy deck working…except he is wearing a well blackened pair of decidedly
non-steel toe leather shoes.
So…feeling an allegiance to my XO and being his direct
assistant I felt obligated to point out to the XO his obvious uniform glitch
(NOT a wardrobe malfunction, mind you).
“Sir?”
“Yes, Mr. Dow?”
“Ah…sir, why are you wearing coveralls?”
“I’m glad you asked Mr. Dow.
I am showing solidarity for the Deck Department…they have been working
hard and doing the best they can to get us back on schedule.”
“Yes, sir. But why
are you wearing leathers?” “Leathers”
was a holdover from the Academy to distinguish the much more military leather
shoes than the ugly (and in my view, cheating) Corfam plastic shoe.
“Mr. Dow, I’m not actually going to WORK on the buoy deck; I
am doing this to show solidarity!”
“Yes, sir…but…ahh….XO…”
“Yes.”
“Never mind.” It’s
his funeral.
So, with this set up we, the Wardroom, make our way to the
fantail where the 55 or so sailors aboard mighty LAUREL await. The Captain is already there at the head of
the formation and the officers fall in with their departments. I am, almost, feeling nauseous at what is
about to happen. After a few mundane
announcements the XO breaks ranks and begins to recount our buoy trip and all
the various and sundry mishaps.
“But, I want to go over some of the highlights we have had
so far.”
“The Deck Department has been breaking records the last few
days trying to get us back on track.
Nice job, keep this up and we will make it home right at Thanksgiving!
[EDITORS NOTE: We did NOT make it back for Thanksgiving…see previous
stories]. Now, we just need all the
Departments to pull their weight like the Engineers have been doing.”
This may seem innocuous but it was an implied slight to
Operations…my department. One of our
more colorful shipmates was the second class quartermaster (QM2). He was a solid shipmate, do anything for you,
good navigator and quite possible crazy.
As the XO continued to intone about the Deckies, the QM2 started
mumbling, in a slow whispering,
maddening manner:
“He can’t say that…that’s not right…what the…”
Again and anon he is getting riled. Our leading department first class petty
officer was the Martin to QM2’s Lewis.
“Dave…keep it down…quiet…that is the XO!!” (not sure if you
can use explanation points when you whisper…but it was certainly implied.
Our intrepid leader, XO, kept heaping the laudations on the
two other departments.
“The Engineers…now what a job back in San Juan…the ship was
down, dead and you brought the old girl back from the dead. Just like Lazarus rising himself!!” OK…not only does that make little sense, I
don’t think he said it that way exactly…but you get the idea.
Dave is continuing his running mumbling discourse with Tony
trying to keep him corked.
At this point the XO says:
“This takes us to Operations, really the one department that
is not helping out. If we can get you
back on track we MAY actually get some work done”. Now, Dave is red…and that is not
hyperbole…his face is as red as I have ever seen in a human being.
“HE CANNOT SAY THAT!”
Tony is now pleading with his QM2 to be quiet or at least
tone it down.
The XO is relentless…picking apart the department for every
infraction going back to the beginning of the trip…just brutal. Dave is about to pop and his comments reach
the XO and the rest of the assembled crew.
XO didn’t even take a breath…in fact it was an impressive
display of oration.
Finally…Dave blew:
“YOU CANNOT SAY THAT XO!
I WILL NOT TAKE THIS ANYMORE! I
WANT TO GO HOME!”
Yelling at an XO…any XO is not particularly career
enhancing…even with Dave’s peculiarities this was going over the edge. At best he was going to get a Captain’s
Mast…at worst…*shudder*.
And with that…about 50 miles off the south coast of Puerto
Rico…Dave walked overboard. He didn’t
jump…just undid a safety chain where the brow attaches and walked over the side
into the ocean.
Stunned is not even close to the reaction of the crew…no had
ever seen this before…EVER.
The only person not stunned…yes…the XO. Unnoticed he had walked over to where Dave
went into the drink.
XO declared: “YOU
CAN’T GO WITHOUT ME!!” and he too walked overboard.
For those of you with seagoing service experience or just
avid sailors…practicing for a man overboard is the most common drill with rote
actions and procedures drilled into sailors starting at boot camp or swab
summer.
No one moved…there was a bleak “man
overboard” call…but that was it.
I mean silence…
Until the Captain…who had also unnoticed, made his way to
the bridge and announced:
“Now swim call, swim call.
Swim call authorized on the starboard side.”
It was brilliant. The
only three onboard who knew were the Captain, XO, and Dave. The crew needed a morale boost and a
break. We got it. It was clearly a highlight of the trip
(remember GTMO lay in our future—but for now this was what we needed).
I consider Fred White the best leader I have served with and
a mentor though good times and the most difficult times of my life.
Oh…by the way…while we were getting our bearings Dave and
Fred were in the water for at least 10 minutes fully clothed…over the side you
could hear Fred say:
“A little help…hey…how about a life ring…HEY…”
