All posts by Jim

The Lonely Things

A Pocket of Resistance, Sea Stories

Eight years ago, i wrote a post titled the same as this post (https://jimjewell.com/a-pocket-of-resistance/lonely-things/). That earlier post was about the song; Rod McKuen, the poet whose most famous poem was “Stanyan Street;” and Glen Yarborough, the singer who recorded the last verse of the song under the title of “The Lonely Things.”

i sit in the family room/den/great room — why do we use different terms for the same thing — of my sister and brother-in-law’s home on Signal Mountain outside Chattanooga, a place we’ve spent Christmas almost every year since 1992. The lights on the wonderful Christmas tree which is roughly nine feet tall are not lit. The fire in the majestic fireplace has not yet been lit. Our daughter and her husband have left and are headed back to Las Vegas. My sister Martha and Maureen with a slight bit of help from Todd and me are feverishly preparing the Christmas dinner for twelve.

Then a much smaller group will go to the 11:00 p.m. church service where Martha will play the bells, and they will turn the lights out, the congregation will light individuals for all of us to sing “Silent Night.”

In this quiet before the gathering, i think about our soldiers, sailors, marines, and air men and women away from home during these holidays. They are experiencing lonely things.

i was lucky to have been away for Christmas only three times during my career. i have written about all three in previous posts and will not bore you with a repeat.

From those experiences, i can tell you that as hard as our commands try, as much frivolity and great food we might have, as much as we throw ourselves into Christmas far away from home, it is still a lonely thing.

Blessings to all of our military personnel who are not home. May they and all of you have a joyous Christmas remembering the reason for the season.

Spiritual Precipitated By My Siblings.

A Pocket of Resistance

Sunday morning, the last Sunday before Christmas, the last Sunday of Christian Advent, i became a better person, experiencing an emotional morning due to my sister Martha and my brother Joe.

Maureen and i are on top of my favorite mountain (especially after retiring my skis several year ago).

Just before 11:00, my brother-in-law and i went to the Signal Crest Methodist Church. We parked and walked up to the balcony and sat in the back row.

For an hour, i was mesmerized. My sister Martha plays in the bell choir, which performed to excellent pieces, especially their version of “Noel.” The pastor, Dave Graybeal, gave a sermon centered around Mr. Rogers and his neighborhood. Ordinarily, i politely act like i listen to sermons while thinking about other things. Dave’s resonated with me. Even Tracy Gartman’s presentation to the children moved me.

There was a goodness in the air. It moved me.

i am a lucky man to have my sister and brother-in-law in my life.

◆◆◆

Martha’s and my brother Joe is a retired Methodist minister. He is also brilliant and holds master degrees in theology and philosophy from Boston University. He wrote a book, The Elements of Prayer, modeled from Strunk and White’s Elements of Style. It is a moving book that is for everyone to contemplate on their relationship with their higher power. i gave a copy to Marty Linville, one of my best friends in San Diego and his wife Linda. They were very religious Catholics. Marty was awarded the Army’s Silver Star due to his valiant action when in charge of a 105 howitzer artillery unit that was overrun by a North Vietnamese company. Marty told me several years later that he and Linda would read Joe’s book on prayer every month or so because of the grace they received from it. i will pick my copy up and read it again when i am feeling a bit low.

Joe is a wonderful man. He is super smart and reads deep and thoughtful books. He is a terrific family man, and loves his adopted New England. His wife Carla Neggers is a talented and successful novelist.

i am a lucky man to have such a brother and sister-in-law

Previously on Saturday evening, i opened up my brother Joe’s Facebook post:

Some fifty-odd years ago, I was walking back to my fraternity house late one evening. I had been studying for my last final exam, in Phenomenology. I had found a quiet place on the Scarritt College campus that I used when I really had to concentrate on a subject as I always did when reading Husserl. While I had been inside, it had started to snow; the ground was lightly covered and flakes were still drifting down. As I walked past Wightman Chapel, I noticed it was partially lit, the only light around, and inside someone was playing Bach’s Toccata and Fugue in D minor. I was transfixed, even though the piece was not one I associated with Christmas. It was a moving moment, but then, the player stumbled on a difficult passage, stopped, and started the section over, getting it right. I stood there, listening, and then the player stumbled again, restarted, finished. I stayed until it was over and then made my way back.

I knew I would remember those moments, but it wasn’t until some years later that I began to grasp why it had been so meaningful to me. It was the stumbling blocks, the “scandalon” in New Testament Greek, that made it special, that made it become…human.

Not otherworldly, not spiritual in a shallow sense, but human, something with which another human could connect.

We are anticipating and about to celebrate The Incarnation, God made flesh, God become human, God possibly stumbling, possible of and for connection with us. Sometimes, as this year, the Christmas “Spirit” seems sparse, so I think on those moments, that connection. And that is my Christmas wish for all who read this: that you connect to others in our humanity which promises the divine to us all.

MERRY CHRISTMAS!!!

i was deeply moved when i read that post. Grace took me by the hand once again. i felt peace washing over me. Peace for all along with a wonderful Christmas with your loved ones.

Thank you, Joe, Carla, Martha and Todd.

the old mariner

A Pocket of Resistance, Sea Stories

“ho, ahoy, ho.”
there was no response;
he shuffled up the hill to the zenith,
looked out on the world,
or
the small part of the world surrounding him
except
the Pacific to the west,
the vast sea where 
he had been a mariner,
a talker with the sea
on the oceans and the seas
aboard those ships in the harbor below,
those warrior women with 
armored visors, the bridge,
from which the talker peered out
to determine safe passage.

at the top of the hill, the talker stood,
no longer able to ride those waves:
restricted by infirmities of those talkers 
who lived to age;
from the pocket of his frayed pea coat,
he pulled out a boatswain pipe
attached to a white lanyard the bosun’s wife
had macramed;
the pipe on which
the bosun had taught him to pipe
and
then gave the pipe and lanyard to him
as the talker left his final ship.

the talker held the pipe in his right hand
with his index finger 
curved over the pipe’s “gun,”
put the pipe to his lips,
and
trilled “attention” to no one
for he was the only one to pause and listen.

the talker stood at attention, 
looking toward the horizon,
but
no ship appeared, not even “hull down;”
after a short while, he turned,
shuffling back down the hill
to never return again.

Op Lifts: A Big Adventure

Sea Stories

i have been embroiled in a bunch of old man difficulties and thusly, have been absent for a while. i will attempt to be more active now.

We received the orders from Commander, Seventh Fleet. Our short timers’ chains were beginning to look small. We had long rid ourselves of the mid-cruise blues – For some inexplicable reason, this was the last time i experienced the malady. The scourge had been prominent in earlier deployments, but this one been rougher. Fortunately, i was no longer wallowing in feeling sorry for myself being away from my wife and daughter.

Another sign came that our time to start home came in a radio message. Anchorage was in Sasebo, Japan, undergoing repairs to our stern gate at the Navy base. Our two-week Repair Availibility had been extended from ten days to almost a month, an annoying period as our operations for the deployment had been non-stop, chaotic, successful, and fun. With a couple of days remaining, the radio message ordered us to make a stop at Keelung, Taiwan and load a 105-ton fueling sea buoy to take back to San Diego as “opportune lift.”

The CO (one of the best i had), CDR Art Wright, and i read the message together and immediately fired off a message to the command in Keelung, with copies to the chain of command. We requested schematics of the beast in order to stow it properly in the well deck for the transit across the Pacific. It took a month for the schematics to get there. i spread the schematics across a table in the Deck office, and immediately took them to the captain.

The schematics showed a pipe three feet in diameter extending about four feet from the center of the bottom of the buoy. We sent another radio message to the Keelung command. They came back noting that there was no pipe currently extending from the buoy. We asked them to confirm. By now, we knew the coordinator of the project was a LCDR Supply Officer. He replied he had been to the site where the buoy was stored and stated there was no pipe and  attached several photos. However, we could not discern from the photos that the pipe was gone. After one more query to the supply officer, we accepted his statement that the buoy had a flat bottom.

This was in 1975. Nixon was sending Kissinger to Beijing. As they always do, the state department did not want to antagonize the country with whom they were negotiating. So, they ordered all Navy ships to not go into Taiwan or get close.

Problem: Commander, Seventh Fleet, was not thrilled that the sea buoy was not going to get back to the states. Radio messages to only Naval commands, specifically from Seventh Fleet to USS Anchorage, with “info to” all commands in our chain. Anchorage would sail into Keelung just after dawn, load the sea buoy and leave as quickly as possible. CDR Wright, the Beachmaster Bosun, Joe Messenger, and i estimated it would take about four hours.

So, USS Anchorage, in defiance of the State Department’s edict, stood into Keelung Harbor, Saturday, October 25 after first light. It was a sunny day and the harbor was calm. We moored at the quay wall after entering the harbor, ballasted down, filling the well deck, and launching the two LARCs (Lighter, Amphibious Resupply, Cargo) craft – Beachmaster units, which were normally on LSDs like the Anchorage and used to support amphibious beach landings.

The LARCs with Bosun Messenger leading, went to where the sea buoy had been transported and lowered into the bay. The Beachmasters tied off the buoy between the two LARCs, and brought it back to the ship. They moved it to the front of one LARC and pushed it to the forward end of the well deck. The LARC held the buoy in place as we ballasted up with the water receding from the well deck.

It all looked good as the water receded. i reported to the captain on my sound powered phones. My reports were all good…until the water level was just under four feet. The sea buoy began to tilt around. From the forward well deck under the mezzanine deck, Hansborough and i looked at each other with troubled in our eyes. i asked ballast control to slowly continue to ballast up. More of the buoy’s bottom was revealed.

Hansborough and i crouched low. Both of us saw the protruding pipe that wasn’t supposed to be there according to that supply lieutenant commander was definitely there.

i notified the captain and asked Ballast control to ballast down and float the buoy, When the buoy floated, the Beachmasters moved it out and secured it to the quay wall aft of us.

Now, we had a real problem. i asked if we could ask the lieutenant commander why the protruding pipe was still there. i was informed that guy had showed up with a date, and when the buoy began to tilt, he left and could not be reached.

CDR Art Wright called a conference in the wardroom for everyone who might contribute to solving the problem, including the head of the Navy’s office in Keelung. He told us there was a shop in downtown Keelung which might be able to create blocks to support the buoy. Our supply officer, the Keelung US Navy representative, and i went out into town, looking for a place that might be able to provide us some blocks to support the sea buoy.

The problem was complicated by that day being a Chinese holiday. Nearly all places were closed, but the Navy’s Keelung representative found a place open that might provide us the needed blocks. Our contingent went. Everyone else was negotating with the manager of this place. i wandered off and began walking around this rather unusual shop. i walked out to their open space. All sorts of rather incredible wood products and art work was in this large outdoor area. Against the fence bordering the property were two tree trunks, huge, at least six feet in diameter and well over thirty feet long.

The negotations  were not going well. The manager and our folks could not come up with a solution.

i interupted to tell of my amazement at those two logs out in the back yard. The negotiators seemed surprised by my observation.  The discussions became more energized. Our guys, SUPPO and the interpreter asked if they could cut those trunks into five-foot blocks. The Taiwanese shop owners replied they could and were excited. They did not have any idea what they were going to do with those trunks that took up a large amount of space in their outdoor storage yard. This would greatly relieve that problem for them.

The negotiations went quickly after that. Demensions were determined. The price, relatively inexpensive for such a large amount of wood cuts, was agreed upon. And the deal was done. The shop would deliver the blocks by truck early the next morning.

When we returned, CDR Wright was appreciative. He had instructed the XO to grant liberty in the local area to conclude at 2200.

We had a meeting in the wardroom with the XO, the Damage Control Assistant and his leading chief Hull Technician, the Engineer and his ballast control team, Bosun Messenger and BM1 Stubbe of the Beachmasters unit, and BM1 Hansborough and me. We went over the plans for securing the sea buyoy and the blocks, including welding shoring to the well deck bulkheads and the buoy. Satisfied, we ended the meeting. 

After the evening mess, CDR Wright and i went ashore to a bar located on the waterfront for a beer.

There were about twenty or so Anchorage sailors there, enjoying an unexpected night of liberty. They cheered us as heroes. They had one last night of liberty in Taiwan.

The captain and i had a beer with the boys and headed back to the ship.

Early next morning, two flat-bed trucks arrived on the quay wall with the four wooden blocks cut from the tree trunks i saw in the outdoor yard of the shop. Cranes lifted them aboard and placed them on the starboard side of the well deck just aft of where the ramp from the mezzanine deck ended. 

Once again, the beachmasters used their LARCs to position the buoy. This time it was over the blocks, just like the previous disaster, but this time the four blocks were beneath the buoy. It was like the drydocking of a ship in drydock. The LARCs departed and the well deck was drained slowly. Hansborough and i were again forward kneeling down, sound powered phones talking to the bridge, watching. The buoy settled on the blocks, and the damnable pipe was about a half foot from the deck. Perfect.

The hull technicians under guidance of the damage control assistant welded telescoping metal shoring to the sea buoy and to each side of the well deck. It was stable.

Anchorage re-loaded the LARCS beside the LCU and LCM8s. We closed the stern gate, set the sea detail, and proceeded to stand out of Keelung’s harbor. As far as i know, the State Department, Kissinger, nor President Nixon ever learned of our sneaking into Taiwan.

As we got underway, i relaxed. “Good job, done,” i thought. i was relieved as Sea Detail OOD, and went down to my office to write the on-load report and other paperwork piling up in my inbox. i stood the second dog (1800-2000) bridge watch as OOD. Towards the end of the watch, the seas were worsening. Reports indicated we could experience a sea state of four through the morning. Art Wright called me over to his captain’s chair on the starboard side.

“Jim,” the captain began, “i am very concerned about the stability of that jury rig on the sea buoy, especially with the seas we are expecting to run into through the night.

“i want you to take station down there with a sound-powered phone to the bridge.

“If you see anything that seems unstable, call the bridge. Due to the weather, i will be on the bridge all night. We will figure out how to deal with it, but we need that early warning.”

i, of course, replied, “Aye, aye, Sir.”

i went back to my stateroom and slept for about two hours. i awoke around 2000, put on my working khakis, and reported to the bridge. i told the captain i was headed for the well deck, grabbed a folding chair, and headed for the well deck.

There i sat, from about 2100 (9:00 p.m.) until 0600 (6:00 a.m.) babysitting a 109-ton behemoth refueling sea buoy, which was sitting on blocks of Taiwanese wood secured to our wing walls by metal shoring. As the seas worsened, it or the shoring groaned alot, and it seemed the buoy moved slightly a bunch of times, but resumed its original position.

My “sea buoy watch” ended with no significant problems other than this first lieutenant sitting in a folding chair wondering what the hell i was going to do if the thing broke loss and rolled around the well deck.

It didn’t.

i was glad.