The next big problem would plague the Yosemite and particularly me for nearly all of the deployment and beyond.

A week before the underway date, a senior chief went to a fast food restaurant to take home some fare to his family. He spotted a cook in the back, a Yosemite sailor who was AWOL at best, a deserter at worst. When MMFN(N) Edmunds realized he had been recognized, he bolted for the back door. The senior chief tackled him in the parking lot and with the help of shore patrol brought Edmunds back to the ship. The quarterdeck watch allowed them to come aboard and put MMFN Edmunds on restriction.

When I received the report the next morning, my antennae quickly rose and started vibrating. I remembered Lieutenant Commander Louis Guimond, a Louisianan, a Cajun, who was the XO on the Hawkins, my first ship. Louie was one of the best if not the best XO I had throughout my Navy career. One afternoon, the shore patrol brought back a sailor who had gone UA (Unauthorized Absence) several months earlier. The ship had declared him a deserter. When Louie heard they had the guy on the quarterdeck, he ran out to the quarterdeck and screamed at the shore patrol to take the guy off the ship immediately and to the base brig. The XO knew if the ship accepted the sailor, he would be part of ship’s company and the ship’s problem. The Hawkins would be responsible for the ensuing court martial, and the sailor also would be part of the crew, preventing the ship from getting a replacement.

But MMFN Edmunds was on board. I couldn’t change that. Now he was my problem. I shuddered when I discovered he was Machinist Mate Fireman (Nuclear). This meant he had been in the nuclear program, most likely on a submarine and was kicked out. The nuclear submarine commands, because of nuclear safety and security, had an instruction allowing them to simply get rid of a trouble maker by declaring him unfit for the nuclear program. All such problems were reassigned to…yes, that’s correct: they were assigned to a Navy ship. They became the surface navy’s problem.

The reason I shuddered was recalling the only nuclear dropout I previously had as a subordinate. I was Chief Engineer, on the USS Hollister (DD 788) in 1973-75. An MM3(N) reported aboard and was assigned to M division, the division that operates the propulsion part of the engineering system. This new sailor was assigned to main control. Soon he got into some trouble and went to captain’s mast. The captain found him guilty, reduced him in rank to MMFN, reduced his pay in half for three months, restricted him to the ship for three months, and assigned him 45 days of extra duty. This was the maximum punishment a ship’s CO could allot at captain’s mast except for three days in the ship’s brig on bread and water, an extremely rare occurrence.

As one would expect, the now MMFN was not happy. Hollister engineers, including me, just didn’t realize how unhappy he was. When his duty section had the duty on a Wednesday, he was assigned to roving security patrol. When a ship was cold iron, i.e. not steaming, a roving security patrol was set. This patrol would be on four-hour watches, roaming through the engine rooms, fire rooms, and other engineering spaces to ensure the plant was secure and safe. In the early part of his mid-watch, this MMFN opened up all of the sea valves to allow sea water to come into the space. When it was discovered by the next watch, nearly all equipment on the lower level of main control, which included vital pumps, most with electrical components, were underwater. The Hollister was scheduled to get underway the following week.

The MMFN was assigned a summary court martial. In the process, as chief engineer I had to provide all the evidence against him, but as his department head I had to counsel him. It was the most difficult two-headed job I ever experienced.

My machinist mates worked around the clock. We took several of the pumps to a “bicycle shop” in Long Beach, got the ones required to light off repaired and installed in time to get underway. It was an incredibly demanding week, one of the worst I endured in my Navy career.

So I think it was natural to be alarmed. MMFN Edmunds later proved my concern was justified.

Edmunds’ young wife was not happy either. She made all sorts of crazy, nonsensical claims and demands for Edmunds to be released off the ship and not deploy. She began making protests. She demanded her husband be allowed to stay ashore. As much as I wished we had not allowed him back on board, he was now Yosemite’s problem, and we needed to follow regulations and JAG procedures. The ship would have to prosecute him through the proper JAG regulations.

Edmunds went to Captain’s Mast. Rather than mete out the maximum punishment a captain was allowed under the UCMJ, Captain Boyle assigned Edmunds to a summary court martial. This would take place after the ship got underway for deployment. MMFN Edmunds was not happy. He did not want to deploy in the worst way. His wife as mentioned was perhaps more upset.

This resulted in my first time to respond to a congressional inquiry. Although it wasn’t a congressman, it was Nancy Reagan, the first lady. This was even worse. Edmunds’ wife wrote a letter of protest to the first lady. Nancy, or her staff, in turn wrote a letter to Yosemite. At that time, a ship was required to respond to a congressional or first lady inquiry within 24 hours, including the vetting process through the chain of command. Guess who had to write the response. The XO. Me.

I guess it was a good response. Nancy didn’t call me or otherwise respond. We kept Edmunds on board until we got underway. I’m sure neither he nor his wife were pleased. I thought it was a stunning victory for good order and discipline, and that’s a significant part of an XO’s job. Little did I realize MMFN Edmunds would be a major thorn in my side, not for just the deployment but most of my tour on Yosemite.

Because there were only a small number of officers and sailors who had deployed on a ship before, we began running all sorts of warnings, instructions, and word of things to do and not do in the Plan of the Day or as we called it the POD, the XO’s vehicle to communicate the daily running of the ship to the entire crew. I kept consulting with the captain, the first lieutenant, and the engineer about word to get out to the rookie sailors. It was a new experience for me. All of my previous ships had been manned by officers, chiefs, and sailors who had been on numerous deployments. The department heads, the division officers, the chiefs, and the experienced petty officers made sure new folks knew how the rules at sea were different and also made sure the newcomers obeyed the rules of going to sea on a ship. But for Yosemite, there were large numbers of leaders who had not really gone to sea. So we passed the word at quarters daily and, we posted notes in the POD.

For weeks, there was a constant reminder to conserve fresh water:

7. ­CONSERVE FRESH WATER: ALL HANDS ARE REMINDED TO CONSERVE FRESH WATER TO KEEP US FROM HAVING TO GO ON WATER HOURS. REPORT ANY FRESH WATER LEAKS IMMEDIATELY TO DAMAGE CONTROL CENTRAL. TAKE NAVY SHOWERS. FOR THOSE OF YOU WHO WONDER WHAT A “NAVY SHOWER” IS, YOU DO THE FOLLOWING.
   1. • TURN ON THE WATER TO WET DOWN.
      • TURN OFF THE WATER TO SOAP UP.
      • TURN WATER ON TO RINSE OFF.

DON’T BE SHY TO LET SOMEONE KNOW ABOUT IT IF THEY’RE NOT FOLLOWING THESE PROCEDURES. WATER HOURS ARE AN INCONVENIENCE THAT WE DON’T WANT TO HAVE TO EXPERIENCE. 

Then we warned about safety at sea. We preached about securing all loose items before getting underway to keep them from becoming flying objects when the ship began to roll in rough seas. And a POD note warned:

8. SAFETY NOTE: S A F E T Y!!! ALL HANDS ARE REMINDED TO THINK SAFETY. THIS MEANS STAYING AWAY FROM LIFELINES, NO “SKYLARKING.” REPORT ALL SAFETY DISCREPANCIES TO DEPARTMENTAL SAFETY PO’S/SAFETY OFFICER. THE MAIN OBJECTIVE IS TO “THINK SAFETY.” IF WE KEEP THIS IN MIND, WE’LL ALL HAVE A SAFE DEPLOYMENT.

All Navy ships tried to provide entertainment. In my earlier days, entertainment was the evening movies for the crew, chiefs, and wardroom. The movies were high-lined from ship to ship until they were replaced by the service force ship, usually an oiler, which had returned to port for a resupply of fuel oil, other supplies, and a new batch of movies. I use the word “new” cautiously because the available movies were older reruns, many black and whites. Occasionally, like once or twice a deployment, we would have “steel beach” parties on the fantail and grill hamburgers. That was about it for our entertainment.

But the Yosemite bunch needed more. Many would not be standing watches, so off hours were dead time. We wanted to give our sailors something to do rather than think up things, which might not be so good, for themselves or for the ship. We found a space for weight-lifting, several officers and enlisted volunteered to lead group exercises. And we created areas and times for sunbathing:

9. SUNBATHING: ALL HANDS ARE REMINDED THAT SUNBATHING HOURS ARE FROM 1130-1300. THE MALE SUNBATHING AREA IS THE FLIGHT DECK (i.e. the DASH Deck). THE FEMALE SUNBATHING AREA IS 03 LEVEL AFT OF THE OPS COMPLEX. PROPER SUNBATHING ATTIRE MUST BE WORN. FEMALES MUST WEAR ONE PIECE SUITS (NO BIKINIS). MALES MUST WEAR BOXER STYLE SUITS (NO BRIEFS).

To add to such concern, this XO added a hand-written note at the bottom of the POD: “Remember sunbathers, you are responsible for ensuring against sunburn. Sunburns are not legitimate reasons for not performing work.”

As I copy these notes, I keep thinking of the television series and movie “M.A.S.H.” and feel in retrospect a bit like Corporal O’Reilly.

After all, it was a different time and a uniquely different challenge for the Yosemite to deploy, unlike all of my other preparations to go overseas.

Our underway preparations were going well until Wednesday, September 7, when Chief Engineer, Ken Clausen, reported the evaporator had gone down. Our scheduled underway on Thursday was delayed. It was not feasible to leave port with no guarantee we could produce fresh water for cooking, drinking, and washing or, most importantly, feed water for the boilers. I was very concerned as I remembered another tender. The USS Prairie (AD 15) in 1974 was about to get underway out of its home port of Long Beach while I was the chief engineer on the USS Hollister (DD 788) also homeported in Long Beach. The Prairie suffered a casualty to her Ship’s Service Turbine Generator (SSTG). Since the Prairie was launched in 1939, many plans and blueprints were not available. The Navy finally flew in an eighty-year old man from Philadelphia who had helped design the generator. It took about two months to make the repairs. I was envisioning this happening to the Yosemite and her evaporators (as we called the distilling plants).

But the engineers and repair department worked continuously and on the original scheduled underway day, Thursday, they successfully got the distilling plant running.

Finally, the USS Yosemite, the “Busy Lady,” was going to get underway for her deployment to the Indian Ocean. It was just under a month after I reported aboard. I had no real idea of how this was going to turn out.

I expressed my feelings in a letter to Maureen, September 9, 1983:

…Another short note before we go. It looks like we’ll make it this time. It’s 11:30 a.m., 1130 my time. All our equipment is operating, and we’re scheduled to get underway at 1:30 p.m., 1330 my time. It will be a relief in many ways.

Only the thought of delaying our life together causes sad thoughts. i am proving to be a good executive officer, and this time at sea should put it all in order. There is absolutely no one yet to whom i relate as a friend like there was on Okinawa. That is because of my position, the way it should be. Everyone seems so different. That’s not derogatory. It’s as though they have a lack of experience (not counting the captain). Of course, i am now a senior officer, XO, so that too is as it should be. i have to be a teacher. There’s so much to do, and the majority, a large majority of the crew has never deployed before.

My philosophy of life, if you can call it that, is becoming more cynical. People are incredibly naïve about life at sea. i hope this job proves to me they can learn and they have no evil purpose.

Except for you and me. How did i find you? God must exist to allow us to meet, to be together to love as we do.

Take care and write and tape cassettes and laugh on the tapes and walk the beach and think of me. i feel that empty gut feeling coming on. It’s loneliness setting in and will exist on its own, independent of all the other things going on and the thoughts i must put to the forefront to do this job right.

i love you.

It was going to be a lonely eight months.

i have received numerous comments on the book installments being posted here. This feedback makes me feel good. Many of those comments point out errors i have made, both grammatically and factual. i feel good about that too. i am going through each correction, each piece of advice, each opinion and filtering them with my XO perceptions. After all the story took place thirty-five years ago and each of us have different perceptions of what happened. i think all of these comments will make the final book better. When i make changes (or not), i will acknowledge the people who contributed in the final draft. i am now considering this a group effort. In fact, i am considering reclassifying the author as “jim jewell with the officers and crew of USS Yosemite during her 1983-1984 deployment. Your contributions are welcomed…and thanks.

On with Chapter Three:

On Tuesday, August 30, the Yosemite got underway, not to deploy, but for “Sea Trials.” Shortly prior to deployment, Navy ships go to sea for a short period, one or two days, to check all equipment, insuring all is running correctly, and, just as importantly, get the crew used to going to sea. Yosemite’s sea trial was one overnight trip into the Atlantic. This new XO was ready. I would be just as glad if the ship didn’t come back to port and just keep heading east except for one thing. For as long as I could remember, I found one of the best things about deploying was having no phones and no brows. Deployment meant the ship was operating as a sole unit, even with other ships in a group, separated by lack of phone lines (before satellite communication and GPS came into existence). It was where a ship was meant to be: at sea. But this time, I was anxious for the one-night cruise to end.

Maureen and I had been married on July 30 followed by ten wonderful days of honeymoon in San Diego. Then I flew east to pick up my car and head to Mayport. Maureen and I thought we wouldn’t see each other until the deployment was over in late April, but we decided Maureen should fly into Jacksonville on Friday and spend the labor day weekend with me, before flying back to San Diego and work. She had rented a seaside cabin. To say I was anxious to see her was a huge understatement.

But that rendezvous would have to wait. Sea detail was set at 0800. I took my position as navigator next to the chart table on the bridge as Yosemite got underway. Navigating a ship out of port and standing out of a channel was one of my favorite evolutions. For sea detail, the only thing better for me was being the Officer of the Deck and having the conn in an open sea.

Mayport had one of, if not the shortest and most direct sea details of all Naval bases, just over a mile from the Mayport basin to the sea buoy. My navigation duties ended quickly. The pilot had left the ship. I joined CAPT Boyle and LT Sitton, the OOD and conning officer on the open bridge. The captain became a bit agitated as a number of sailboats appeared from the south crossing the end of the channel. Sailboats were not a usual problem in Norfolk where CAPT Boyle had spent most of his shipboard time while hundreds of sailboats in Long Beach and San Diego fouling up the channel were business as usual. The captain knew well the rules of the road, which included the rules for power ships and boats. He knew the rules for sailboats as well, but he had not had a great amount of experience with them and was not comfortable with those tacking ships bobbing on the water dependent on the winds. He knew I had not only had to deal with innumerable sailboats but also had crewed several while steaming out of and into Long Beach and San Diego.

There was some question as to whether Yosemite in this case should maneuver to avoid any collision. With the sailing vessels a mile or more away, CAPT Boyle asked me my opinion as to what to do.

“Don’t worry, captain,” I replied, “They will maneuver and avoid us. They normally don’t want to mess with ships this big. It is the law of gross tonnage.”

In less than a minute, the sailboats began to tack and disperse, giving Yosemite a clear shot east.

I felt relieved and good about giving my captain correct information.

Underway felt good. The day went better than I expected. All systems seemed to be in working order. Then after the evening mess in the wardroom, something occurred to set the tone for the entire deployment and for all of my tour as XO.

Being navigator (and shortly before LTJG Noreen Leahy became the real navigator even though I kept the title, an added duty for being executive officer), I walked up to the bridge with the intent of checking out the equipment and the quartermasters for shooting stars. The sun had set. It was twilight, the perfect time to shoot stars. As I came on the bridge, I walked past the chart table and quartermaster’s station and over to the starboard bridge wing. I looked down and was surprised to see the standing lights were on.

One of the primary Rules of the Road is from sunset to sunrise a ship must not have any lights visible except for standard “running lights.” Standard running lights consist of a green light on the starboard side, a red light on the port side, a white light as a stern light, and two forward “range” lights above and in line. This is to allow other ships to ascertain a ship’s aspect or an idea of her comparative direction in which she was heading. This aspect determines which ship is the privileged vessel (required to remain on course), and the burdened vessel (required to maneuver to avoid a collision). Other lights would make it difficult, if not impossible to discern the ship’s aspect. In my time at sea, any ship showing more than navigational running lights would be denigrated and called a “cruise ship.”

I called to the Officer of the Deck, “Why aren’t the standing lights off? Recognizing the OOD had much less experience than I had and it was the first time in a while since any of the watch standers had been to sea, I added, “Don’t you know the Rules of the Road prohibit standing lights to be on after sunset.”

“Yes sir,” the OOD responded, “But it’s in the captain’s night orders to leave them on all night.”

“What?” I almost shouted in disbelief.

“Yes sir, would you like to see it?”

“No, I believe you,” I responded as I walked over to the sound powered phone and rang the captain’s cabin.

“Captain,” the commanding officer answered.

“Sir, this is the exec. Have you finished your evening mess?”

“Yes, why?” CAPT Boyle responded.

“Well sir, I was wondering if you could come up to the bridge?”

“Certainly, be up in a minute.”

When the captain arrived on the bridge, he asked, “What’s up, XO?”

“I’d like to show you something,” I said and directed the captain to the starboard bridge wing.”

As he peered over the bulwark and saw the lights, CAPT Boyle shouted, “What the hell? Officer of the Deck, get those damn standing lights off right now. What kind of watch are you running?”

Before I could explain, the OOD repeated, “But sir, your night orders direct us to leave them on.”

“They aren’t my night orders,” the captain responded angrily, “Now turn those damn things off!”

“Aye, sir,” the OOD obeyed and ordered the standing lights off.

“Dammit, Jim, I forgot to rewrite the night orders,” Captain Boyle explained. “Those are Captain Roberts’ night orders. I’ll write mine tonight and you can edit them so we have them ready for deployment.”

“Aye sir,” I agreed, relieved the violation of the Rules of the Road was a product of the previous regime, not Captain Boyle.

He and I stayed on the bridge. The captain took his seat on the starboard side, and I stood next to him discussing how the day otherwise had gone and getting any input for Eight O’clock Reports.”

In about five minutes, Command Master Chief Weaver ran onto the bridge demanding, “Who turned off those standing lights off?”

With both the CO and I amazed at the Master Chief’s reaction, the captain beckoned him over.

“What in the world are you talking about, Master Chief?” the captain asked, “Why do you think the standing lights should be on?”

“Well, sir,” Master Chief Weaver responded, “With CAPT Roberts and CDR Sheffield, we kept them on and we created a roving security patrol. We wanted to make sure no one was sneaking out onto the weather decks at night for a little hanky-panky.”

There was a moment of silence. I was shaking my head in disbelief when Captain Boyle, with obviously controlled anger said:

“Master Chief, I want you to be sure that every person on this ship knows by tomorrow morning we don’t have men on board this ship; we don’t have women on board this ship. We have sailors aboard this ship. And we are going to act like that.

“We will observe all of the Rules of the Road as long as I am the commanding officer. And we will all act like sailors.

“Understood?”

“Aye, aye, sir,” the master chief responded and then quickly left the bridge.

I smiled and told the Captain I had to get below to get ready for Eight O’clock Reports and left the bridge.

There is no doubt CAPT Boyle’s philosophy so well stated that evening became the watchword for how the ship did business for the rest of the time I was the executive officer. I used the captain’s direction that evening as my first guidepost in any situation requiring judgement about male and female personnel, officer or enlisted that arose during my time aboard the Yosemite.

*     *     *

Upon returning to port, activities increased even more. In addition to the loading of supplies, significantly more than a combatant as the Repair Department required an incredible amount of material, like steel in large sheets and other supplies for repair and maintenance during customer ship maintenance availabilities.

Cruiser-Destroyer Group 12 was having a change of command, which not only meant the captain would be gone that entire day, but there would be another admiral’s brief on board. The discrepancies from the sea trial and a zone inspection needed to either be fixed before getting underway or put in a long range plan for correction. Yosemite also took part in the change of command. She was charged with firing the gun salute during the change of command, a 13-gun salute as is due a rear admiral. At the ceremony, Captain Boyle was sweating during the salute while I was sweating with each round from our saluting battery. After an initial glitch from our battery, the gun salute went fine. No one, except us, noticed the glitch.

But it was time for a respite. It had been over three weeks since i had seen my new bride. I got the respite. Maureen had decided she should fly into Jacksonville on Friday, September 2, and spend the Labor Day weekend with me. While I was trying to find a suitable and inexpensive hotel for us, Maureen located and rented a small cabin on the beach. We had a wonderful weekend even with ship’s business frequently distracting me. We did have one moment that cut into the romance (pun intended). Saturday twilight, we settled into the cottage for an evening together alone and sat down on the couch looking out at the Atlantic past the sand and the small picket fence. I had opened up a bottle of sauterne while Maureen prepared a wonderful cheese and apple plate. After sitting down, Maureen went to slice the apple, but missed and cut a deep gash into her left palm. The rest of what had been planned as a romantic evening was devoted mostly to first aid and laughter.

Even though that Monday was a holiday, I had to do some work. But the newlyweds had some wonderful moments together before I put Maureen on a plane back to San Diego that Monday evening.

The clock toward deployment was clicking.

*     *     *

With days winding down, two more major difficulties arose, one impacted by Navy policy and the other older than the hills. Both involved with sailors trying to avoid deployments.

The first problem arose when the doctor advised me one of the female sailors was pregnant. In these early days of the Women In Ships program, Navy’s policy stipulated any female enlisted would be immediately transferred with Temporarily Additional Duty (“TAD”) to a shore command. One of the immediate repercussions of this policy was a number of women who didn’t want to deploy on a tender would get pregnant in order to avoid the deployment. I felt this policy was a product of politically correct, but misguided thoughts. The Yosemite had a capable doctor on board trained in family practice. If there was a problem or health issue, then the crew person should be transferred, but the blanket policy produced a lot of unwanted results. It didn’t matter. That was the policy, and the seaman was transferred to shore duty. As i recall, only one or two women were transferred due to pregnancy before we got underway for good.

This policy would come into play in a major difficulty with the Navy policy and women on board during the deployment.