The boss who attempts to impress employees with his knowledge of intricate details has lost sight of his final objective.
All posts by Jim
A Tale of the Sea and Me: Adjusting to Being a Reserve Ship
Several parts of this post have been posted here before or included in one of my weekly columns in The Lebanon Democrat. i have included them here because they are part of my story of my USS Hollister tour as CHENG, 1973-1975.
i was just into the saddle as CHENG when the Hollister began its transition the reserve fleet. She was now a member of Destroyer Squadron Nine, with all of the tin cans also reserve ships. Basically, this meant the ship and engineering in particular would be manned to thirds of the ship’s complement with reserves filling the empty billets one weekend a month and two weeks of active duty for training (ACDUTRA).
As earlier noted, Engineering went from a grunch of master and senior chiefs to on BTCM. Period. And one third of the department was transferred. The big problem was there was a fuel shortage for the regular active duty ships. Due to many operational obligations, the reserve ships were going to sea like 37 days per quarter, a high rate.
After i had gone through all of the engineering spaces, i realized the good ole ship had been beaten up in the high tempo and combat duty in Vietnam. My predecessor’s fixes applying casts for broken bones to fix auxiliary steam leaks were everywhere, requiring standard fixes. Leaks of lubricants, water, and fuel was rampant. The bilges were shiny with oil.
It was early in 1974 when i came up with my goal, which was to get the engineering plant to Regular Overhaul in September without missing an operational commitment or getting anyone killed or injured.
We did that except for one final operational underway a couple of weeks before we entered the yards. i’m proud of that.
But we had problems, unique in many ways, through that eight or nine months. That spring, i put my troubles behind me, i thought, as we headed to Pearl Harbor on the Hollister’s two-week ACDUTRA cruise. This is when the reserves assigned to the ship boarded and gave us almost a complete complement of crew. However, many of the reserve snipes were not qualified to stand many watches and a few were downright dangerous if left alone. So we were still essentially steaming with two thirds of an engineering department. We arrived in Pearl with no problems.
i was ecstatic, not just because we had only minor problems, but i was taking leave while we were there. My wife, Kathie was bringing our daughter Blythe, about three months shy of three, with her. We had reserved a cabin on the inshore side of Fort DeRussy on Waikiki Beach. It was a wonderful week.
My leave prevented me from attending a squadron picnic, which included the British ship, HMS Jupiter (F-60), which had joined us for exercises on our transit west. Among the attendees was the Jupiter’s communications officer who just happened to also be Lieutenant Prince of Wales, now King Charles III. Our comm officer, LTJG Wendell Parker, met the prince at the picnic. They t and talked about the comms during the exercises and joked around with each other. Right after the two ships got underway, Jupiter continuing west for Hong Kong, and Hollister heading east for home port, the two exchanged wire notes:
Wire Note
Commo to Commo
LTJG W.E. Parker to LT, Prince of Wales
ITS BEEN A REAL PLEASURE KNOWING AND WORKING WITH YOU AND YOUR RADIOMEN. WISH YOU GOOD COMMS UNTIL YOU REACH HOMELAND. BUT IN CASE THINGS DON’T GO AS WELL AS THEY HAVE IN THE PAST WEEK, REMEMBER: YOU WIN SOME, YOU LOSE SOME, SOME GET RAINED OUT, AND SOME SHOULD HAVE NEVER BEEN SCHEDULED IN THE FIRST PLACE, BUT YOU HAVE TO SUIT UP FOR THEM ALL.
UNTIL WE MEET AGAIN, GODSPEED.
BT
The Prince’s response:
TO: W.E. PARKER
FROM: LT. PRINCE OF WALES
THE COMMUNICATIONS HAVE BEEN A SENSATION. MANY CONGRATULATIONS AND MAY WE SEND APPRECIATION FOR MANY EXCELLENT FORMATIONS CONCLUDED DURING OPERATIONS HIGHLIGHTING THE COOPERATION BETWEEN TWO NAVAL NATIONS.
IN ENGLAND WE ALWAYS GET RAINED OUT. BEST OF LUCK.
BT
My wife and daughter flew back to LA, and i reported on board to find a big problem.
The main evaps, our distilling plant to make water, had quit. No water, not feed water for the boilers, nor fresh water for the crew.
Or at least not much as the smaller plant in the after engine room didn’t produce to provide both on its own. As i recall, the main evaps was rated to produce 700 gallons per hour. When it was running effectively, it could put out over 720 gallons per hour. The smaller evaps was rated to put out 120 gallons per hour. Once we knew the smaller evaps were in working order and could produce enough water to give us feed water for the voyage back to Long Beach, we got underway with the rest of the squadron.
It was tough going. i was up for about three days, catching a bit of sleep when i could. i spent hours in the hole listening to my remaining master chief machinist mate explaining what they were finding and what the next action would be. i would sit in the log room checking the hourly measurements of the feed and fresh water and reporting to the bridge the status. Our captain, CDR George Phelps would relay four “SITREPS” (situational reports) daily to the commodore on our flagship.
As it was, we were on water hours for almost four complete days before the master chief and his boys got the big evap running again. Our captain sent a flashing light message to the commodore on the destroyer flag ship reporting we were going off water hours. The commodore responded, “Congratulations to CHENG. Please remain downwind for the next couple of days.”
The adventure continues.
Coit-Murphy’s Statement
It is impossible for an optimist to be pleasantly surprised.
Old Boys
long ago
many boys came into this world
to face the blade
on the very thing
that made them boys.
they cooed, gurgled, and spit
just like their counterparts;
their pee could shoot up in the air;
they crapped in undesired places
like one who took a dump on a heater vent
causing the heater guy to come clean the piping.
then, they grew to begin to play
cowboys and sports and mumbly-peg,
running barefoot in shorts
over neighborhood yards and empty lots,
playing king of the hill, red rover, and, of course, tag,
getting stung by bees and wasps, bitten by ants;
at night, catching fireflies in bell jars
with holes poked in the top with ice picks,
getting stung by mosquitoes,
playing in the weeds
to acquire poison oak and poison ivy.
then, they walked to school
put chewing gum underneath their desks
went to recess
where
they swung on swings so high there was slack in the chain
giving them a big jerk when they came down,
pushed the manual merry-go-round to the limit
where they or other riders might be thrown off,
playing softball, football, kickball, dodge ball
on the mown fields of grass filled
with pock marks of dirt, weeds, dandelions
they rode their bikes with a basket on the handle,
lickety split everywhere,
baseball cards in their spokes
here and yon,
not knowing there were ten-speed bikes and races
somewhere over yonder;
getting into fights for spurious reasons,
getting spanked for getting into fights.
then, they began to notice girls;
to gather to appoint a captain with hands
on a baseball bat,
choosing players for the team,
jury rigging bases, goal posts
in empty lots, drawing lines or marking landmarks
like a hedge or curb for doubles, triples home runs
before
the people concerned for their safety
ruined it by adult organization
forming little league, pop warner,
until they played school sports,
becoming more serious
actually asking a girl out to a movie,
buying the tickets for a quarter each,
buying cokes for a dime,
sharing a candy bar for a nickel,
eventually, stealing a kiss in the back row,
but failing to cop a feel.
then, they faced academics with a snarl,
admired the older, richer boys who had
sports cars and sported
tapered jeans, shirts unbuttoned past their chests
revealing pubescent hair,
topping it off with ducktails;
they learned to dance
the bop, the chicken, the monkey, the twist, the walk,
hoping to impress the girls,
finding joy in football, basketball, baseball,
afterwards taking a date for a burger,
going parking on top of a hill on a country lane outside of town;
or
gathering with the boys
on the side of a remote dirt road after the game,
finding someone, somewhere that could buy
bottles of country club malt liquor,
sipping, telling stories sitting on the road,
smoking Winstons, cussing:
forbidden things.
then, the boys went to work or college
thinking they were grown,
still chasing their dreams and girls,
drinking a bit too much;
watching sports events and music shows
rather than playing and dancing.
then, they had jobs, settled down;
still playing with their cars and boats,
fishing and golf, slow pitch softball,
mowing the lawn.
then, the aging began,
dripping on them like a leaky faucet
bringing aches and stiffness
loss of hair, failing eyesight, hearing loss, and mottled skin;
watching for signs of something more fatal;
locking themselves into positions from which
they could not move;
grumbling about how much better it used to be.
boys eventually turned into old men;
the good ones
still boys at heart.
The Poker Principle
Never do card tricks for the group you play poker with.