All posts by Jim

A Tale of the Sea and Me (For Sam), Installment 17

DASH was the acronym for Drone Anti-Submarine Helicopter. It was a pioneer in employing a drone in warfare. It carried a torpedo to deliver over a submarine’s positIon a a significant distance from the ship, unlike the torpedo tubes aboard the ship.

It was also when the expertise for effectively creating such a drone was in its infancy, a great idea just a bit too early. Hawkins was one of the few ships, the only one i knew of at the time, to not have lost a DASH during their flights. En route to Newport on our return, we flew the DASH several times successfully.

Other ships had some severe problems through no fault of their own. There was one that was launched and rather than respond to the air controllers signals just kept going up and up and up until it disappeared. The ship never knew what happened to it. Another had a successful flight until the DASH returned and hovered about fifty feet from the DASH deck. The controllers tried everything they could think of to get it back aboard but failed. When it ran out of fuel, they watched it sink into the ocean. There are numerous other stories of bizarre behavior of these drones resulting in losing them at sea.

As a result, sailors often sardonically called DASH “CRASH,” “SMASH,” or “SPLASH.” The two DASH helicopters on board Hawkins were offloaded when she went into the yards for overhaul in September 1968, and the program was cancelled in 1969 due to its expense and terrible record. However, the DASH hanger was a great place to show the crew’s movie at night, and the DASH flight deck provided a great place for hovering helicopters to conduct vertical replenishment (VERTREP) for transfer of supplies and personnel, not to mention a great place for steel deck picnics, and holiday routine sunning.

“{The Adventure of Remo Williams Continues”…

A Tale of the Sea and Me (For Sam) – Installment 16

Headed Home the First Time

Once clear of Gibraltar, the at sea routine kicked in with the entire ship. We had 20 days of transit back to Newport. We arrived back to our home port 15 May.

Although i had spent two months at sea on a destroyer in my midshipman training cruise, it was a completely new and fascinating experience as a junior, and i mean junior, officer.

i was a bit deflated when i was told i would be the First Lieutenant in charge First Division until the current ASW officer was transferred in late September. In retrospect, it was a good thing. i learned the aspect of destroyers that went back to sailing ships: deck seamanship. My first chief petty officer was BMC Jones, and no one could have introduced me better as to how the Navy on ships really work.

Lieutenant Steve Jones was the Weapons Officer and my boss as department head. He broke me in well. The other sailor who really became a friend was BM2 Carrier, the division Leading Petty Officer (LPO). He taught me almost as much as Chief Jones on how to be a division officer.

i was learning in my job, on my watches, division work, and how the wardroom works. It was a different world then, and i don ‘t think there is anything like it in the world today. It was old Navy.

* * *

The wardroom dining table was on the starboard side of the wardroom, which was on the main deck, two levels below the bridge. The table sat ten. For the three meals, the oncoming watch’s OOD sat to the left of the CO at the head of the table, his other watch standers, the Engineering of the Watch (EOOW), the CIC Watch Officer (CICWO) and the Junior Officer of the Deck (JOOD) followed. The lone exception was the Wardroom Mess Caterer, almost always the Supply Officer sat at the end of the table opposite from the CO at the head. i always assumed that was his position for taking the criticism of the Commanding Officer about the fare. The more senior officers, nearly always the department heads not going on watch, followed until it reached the setting to the right of the Captain. That was reserved for the executive officer. The other officers sat on the large couch that curved around the forward and port bulkheads of the wardroom. They would dine at the second seating along with the off going watch standers.

The table settings would make Emily Post proud. The china was white, the silverware was silver with a soup spoon, a teaspoon, and knife on the right, and the salad fork was on the left side of the setting with the dining fork on the inside. The dessert fork was above the plate. The table cloth was white, ironed with nary a wrinkle. Each officer had his own napkin ring. It was silver, or perhaps pewter. i find it hard to believe ours were silver. In many destroyer wardrooms, including the Hawkins, the napkin rings had been engraved with the initials or last name of the officer. The white napkins in the rings were collected and placed in the napkin drawer to be used for a day or two before the napkins were replaced and washed. The new folded napkins were at the table setting the next mess with the appropriate ring on top of the napkin.

At the time, Navy officers received a Basic Allowance for Sustenance (BAS). The intent was to to pay the officer’s contribution to the wardroom mess. If i remember correctly, mine was $48.00. This supplement to base pay was to pay for the monthly contribution to the wardroom mess. The monthly fee varied greatly. Some CO’s and their mess caterer, normally the supply officer were parsimonious and went cheap on filling the larder. Some preferred dining on the high end and damn the expense, often requiring the officers to pony up more than their BAS.

i think the Hawkins was somewhere in the middle. We ate well, but our fee was stayed within our BAS.

The fare was rather amazing…until we ran out of fresh stores. Eggs, bacon, cereal with milk, were standard choices, waffles, and pancakes were often in the choices and brunch for holiday routines was spectacular. This was of course before real eggs and fresh milk gave way to the powdered versions, which was in pretty short order.

The noon mess was something from the aforementioned Emily Post: soup was served first, followed by a salad, then the entree with vegetables, followed with dessert, all, of course, eaten with the appropriate utensil. A pre-meal prayer was given by the captain or someone he assigned randomly.

The evening mess was varied, often with sandwiches and soup.

The formality at the meals, especially the noon mess, was rigorous.

i confess, it made me feel important, different.

* * *

But to get back to sea stories, as i noted the oncoming watch’s OOD sat to the right of the captain. During one noon mess, the oncoming OOD was a really good guy. I believe his first name was Chris. He sat beside the mercurial screamer of a CO. During the meal, the conversation turned to topic of great interest to Chris. In making a point, he slammed his right hand down on the table. Unfortunately, his soup spoon was in the soup bowl when he slammed. His hand caught the spoon and flipped with a full soup spoon full of soup onto the captain’s face and khaki shirt.

The wardroom went totally quiet, awaiting for the captain to explode. He wiped his face and as much soup as he could off of his uniform and amazingly remained silent.

Chris, forgoing the remaining courses, excused himself and quickly left for the the bridge.

The time went quickly. On Wednesday, May 28, 1968, the USS Hawkins passed the Beavertail Light to port and Brenton Reef to starboard, the line between Inland and International Waters. She tied up around 0900 at the Newport Naval Base destroyer piers.

i was about to experience life in port of a Naval officer.

.

Old Man Dilemma

Friday Morning, 5:20 a.m. Maureen’s coffee is made and the newspaper is at the breakfast table. My coffee and ice water are in their respective travel mugs. My golf shoes are already on. All my golf doo dads are in the golf bag, the clubs and battery powered golf cart are in the car. i unhook the cart battery from its charger and put it in the back of hatchback. The house and outdoor lights are out. The house is locked.

i am ready to go except for one last thing. i walk to our garage refrigerator and open the door.

Now, this refrigerator is the successor to my original half-refrigerator for holding a couple of cases of beer. We then bought a new refrigerator for the kitchen and replaced my half one with the old one. A vision of happiness filled my thoughts as i imagined a keg in the bigger refrigerator. That vision never reached fruition as the gourmet chef of the house filled it with 438 different kinds of pasta, every frozen dinner Trader Joe ever considered, cereals, mystic health drinks, exotic ingredients too valuable to store in a pantry, and for me, a case of Topo Chico sparkling water and the small bottles of Gatorade for hot walks and golf rounds. Last week, recognizing there had been no beer in that refrigerator since the Sphinx was built, she conceded and brought home six-pack of Lagunitas Lil’ Sumpin’ IPA for me. i had one in celebration. There were five left.

i picked up a Gatorade in one hand and a IPA in the other. i looked at both. i considered my options. It was the Old Man Dilemma.

And in a victory for all things healthy and pure and medically approved, at least for the aged, i put the IPA back in the refrigerator and took the Gatorade with me.

i bragged about my will power and good intentions to my FMG buddies.

Later, i admitted i would have taken my beloved Lagunitas but i knew Maureen would open the garage refrigerator to get some exotic ingredient she stored there…

And she would count the bottles.

Dilemma solved: Good decision, if not an honorable one.