The legendary port was the Luce’s last liberty port. i believe it was over Thanksgiving during that ’73 deployment . It was legendary in the Navy, of course. i had stopped there for one night on my way to Korfu, Greece to meet the ship, but except for that wonderful meal of spaghetti at the off-limits area, i really didn’t know much about the city. But i found out. It didn’t disappoint.

We anchored in the bay and took boats into fleet landing. There was seemingly hundreds of people of every age, male and female, selling every possible kind of knock-off watches, trinkets of all kinds, other obviously fake goods. An officer or sailor had to push through the crowd to get to the street.

Several of us took a cab to where, i don’t recall. But we went down a road, which at least bordered the off limits area. Along a stone wall, sitting atop were a line up of ladies of the night, dressed in very suggestive outfits. i cannot confirm, but one of our cab riders claimed one was the actual “Humpty Dumpty.” She was the legendary prostitute of great girth who was considered the queen of Naples prostitution. She certainly looked the part: rotund with huge breasts and huge white legs popping out of a too small dress.

We didn’t stop.

We ended up in the night club district at a disco bar. The music was European “popcorn” dance music (or at least, that’s what i called it). We sat at a booth and some attractive young women joined us. i was married with a five-month old daughter but bought her a drink. When we had finished our beers, the women asked for another drink. That’s when i discovered her drink was mostly colored sugar water priced at $20 in 1972 dollars.

We left. Outside, we ran across a bunch of teenage boys playing soccer in the narrow street. We joined them. For about an hour, four Navy officers played soccer with the far superlative local teenagers. They far surpassed us in soccer skills…even if we had been sober.

Then, i took a trip that still resonates. i wrote a poem about it and later added an intro for a post:

In the autumn of 1972 on the only tour i can remember taking during my Navy liberty, i rode a bus to Pompeii. Much of the city had not been excavated back then, and from recent television programs about the city, much more information has been revealed about what happened .

i was enchanted. Ancient places, things now gone always move me, like the Petrified Forest in Arizona. When i returned to my ship, the USS Luce (DLG-7), i wrote this:

i went to Pompeii today in the rain;
left Naples on a tour bus
where at the front of the bus,
a fat little man
mechanically spoke his piece
about squares and statues, history,
as pimps, prostitutes, hustlers,
and
little boys selling dirty pictures
while trying to pick the target’s pockets,
along with everyday people
moved in masses
along the promenades
as we passed:
innumerable puppets in a large box,
highly seasoned with the filth of a city;

until we escaped to a smaller city
with polished tables of intricate design
and
mother of pearl cameo necklaces;

then a quick dash across the inland roads
to Pompeii
where the rain gently gathered
for the vendors to turn out
their umbrellas and raincoats
for a few lira to add to their take
selling photos and guidebooks;
the little fat man in his bemused fashion
told of the grandeur and beauty
of the ruins
before,
reeling off death statistics
before
dropping his voice suggestively
while showing rooms of licentiousness
among the ruins;
i wandered away from the tour
wondering about the people
before
they became death statistics
and
i was quiet, wondering;

i left Pompeii today in the rain;
near Amalfi, the clouds broke out
the sun in its harsh, unyielding glory;
the water far below the cliffs
on the narrow road
sparkled;
the hillside homes were bleached white
against the fury of the sea.

i left the bus to wait for hours
to make a telephone call
back home,
only to hear the unanswered ringing;
i walked to the pier
where i waited for the liberty boat
to take me back to the ship
alone.

at least the rain had stopped.

i did not mention a romantic lunch (but i was alone) at a cafe near the crest of the Amalfi coast.

After that, the Luce weighed anchor and headed to her homeport of Newport, Rhode Island. The real adventure was ahead of us before we reached home.