Category Archives: Sea Stories

Fairly self explanatory, from what I can remember that is.

A Tale of the Sea and Me: The End of My Destroyer Time

I think my class at destroyer school was the first to have “split tours,” certainly it was one of the very first. Destroyer school had been created for surface officers (long before they created the “Surface Warfare” designation. Afer successful tours on a destroyer, officers, usually lieutenants, were selected to go through Destroyer School in Newport, Rhode Island, to be one of the three operational department heads (weapons, engineering, or operations) on a destroyer.

When my class reported in May 1974, the move had been made to include other types of ships, amphibious and service force ships, in training their department heads. Rather than my class serving three years in a destroyer department head billet, we would spend roughly 18 months on a destroyer followed by another 18 months on either and amphib or service force ships.

— For those unfamiliar with the organization, these ships had 3-4 division officers in each department. Superior to the department heads was the executive officer and the commanding officer —

When i learned i would be transferred to the USS Anchorage (LSD 36) home ported in San Diego, i was not exactly jubilant. Also, i knew nothing about amphibious ships except from what i saw in WWII movies. i was glad i was assigned to an amphib rather than a service force ship. Oilers and ammunition ships had little time in port. They were too busy fueling and replenishing the combatants. Being a first lieutenant department head excited me even though i wasn’t sure what my duties would be, but i had enjoyed my brief time as first lieutenant, a division officer billet on the USS Hawkins (DD 873).

Before Hollister entered the yards for overhaul, we went to San Diego to attend equality training for the crew and wardroom. While moored at the Naval Station, San Diego (better know as 32nd Street), i was standing on the bridge starboard wing with a second class quartermaster. A large amphibious ship passed by us on her way to a pier berth. i wondered to the quartermaster if she might be the class i would be going to. i was that dumb about amphibs. The ship was the USS Mobile (LKA 115), an amphibious cargo ship, nothing like my future ship, the Anchorage, a landing ship dock.

Even though i did not know squat about amphibs, one of the best, if not the best tour of my career was about to begin.

A Tale of the Sea and Me: Gimme a Nickel

As the USS Hollister (DD 788) began her preparations for the six-month (supposedly) overhaul to begin in September 1974, which was eventually awarded to Todd Shipyards in Long Beach, my Master Chief Boiler Tender and i went down to the firerooms (Man, i can’t believe i cannot remember his name: we spent many hours together, and he saved my bacon more than once. He was also the only chief in the deep holes, firerooms and engine rooms after the ship went to the reserves. i’ll finally either remember or find his name and add it here. He was a great chief.

The Pre-Overhaul Test and Inspection (POT&I) team from the Surface Forces, Pacific would be coming on board soon to test critical equipment in the engineering plant and throughout the ship.

The master chief and i went down into the forward fireroom to the forced draft blowers, huge blowers that sent a lot of air into the boilers. There were two blowers for each boiler, four in the forward fireroom and four in the after fireroom. The master chief went to the first one, pulled a nickel out of his pocket and placed it, standing on end, on the top of the blower. He yelled for the duty BT to turn on the blower. It revved up and ran for a couple of minutes. The BTCM proceeded to the rest of the blowers in the forward fireroom, and i accompanied him as we repeated the process in the after fireroom. If the nickel fell down, the master chief proclaimed that the blower would need an overhaul. When we completed the master chief’s tests. He announced that three of the eight blowers needed an overhaul and the other five were fine with regular maintenance.

About a month later, the POT&I team came aboard. They went to the firerooms and hooked up a whole bunch of expensive and sophisticated electronic equipment with wires and meters and lord knows what else to the blowers. They ran their tests and about a month later, they sent us the results. Their tests, Lord knows how much they cost, revealed three of the forced draft blowers needed an overhaul but the other five did not. They were exactly what the master chief had determined with his nickel.

A Tale of the Sea and Me: Pray for No Rain

In the late spring of 1974, Commander George Phelps soon would be relieved in a change of command ceremony aboard the USS Hollister (DD 788) in Long Beach. The outgoing captain, XO, and department heads considered what the options were if it rained. The weapons officer suggested that we move the ceremony from the 01 deck (with attendees in folding chairs on the pier) to the reserve armory about 3/4 of a mile away. The captain asked how were we going to get the crew there.

The weapons officer replied, “We’ll march the crew there, sir.”

At that, the captain, the XO, the Ops officer, and yours truly, the chief engineer, fell out of our chairs laughing at the idea of such a debacle.

The discussion reminded me of a story from one of my best golfing buddies, Marty Linville. Marty, an Army major who was awarded the Silver Star for his actions as an artillery officer in Viet Nam, was stationed at the Naval Amphibious School primarily as the director of the Navy’s gunfire support range on San Clemente Island.

During a rare command personnel inspection, Marty was in charge of the gunfire support personnel. He was having them take position for the inspection as was about to give them the command “dress right, dress,” but had second thoughts. He called his master chief petty officer to the front to consult.

“Master Chief, what should I expect if i order the troops to “dress right dress?”

Without hesitation, the master chief replied, “Chaos, sir; absolute chaos.”

That’s “Devine,” Not “Divine”

Within the last couple of weeks, i recognized i had made an omission In my book, Steel Decks and Glass Ceilings. i stated i had only encountered four women in the Navy before reporting aboard USS Yosemite (AD 19) to relieved the executive officer. i missed one.

The first female officer i met during my career was LT Carolyn Prevatte, an unrestricted line officer. i mentioned her in my book. Carolyn came to the Texas A&M NROTC Unit about the same time as i took over as the Senior Naval Officer of the unit. Her primary job was to be the liaison and coordinator for women who had just been allowed to be in the Corps of Cadets. The Navy unit had only one female cadet but there were several more in the Army and Air Force Units. She, my wife Kathie, and i became fast friends.

In the book, i also mentioned an enlisted deck hand on a tugboat that was providing USS Anchorage (LSD 36) support while getting underway in San Diego. Then, i overheard two women officers discussing administrative business while sunning in swimsuits at the pool outside the Admiral Kidd Bachelor Officer’s Quarters (BOQ).

If you read the posts on this website frequently, you should know many of my posts are sea stories about my career in the Navy. My ultimate goal is to create a collection for my grandson, Samuel James Jewell Gander — a bit of a grandfather brag: Sam will graduate from McNeill High School ion Austin this May and has been accepted to the prestigious Savannah College for Arts and Design.

i have told sea stories about my previous ships and have posted several about my tour as Chief Engineer (CHENG) on the USS Hollister (DD 788). In a note listing topics for my sea stories, i found a line that read “I. M. Devine.” i recognized she was the woman i left out.

Lieutenant Junior Grade I. M. Devine was an Engineering Duty Officer assigned to the Long Beach Supervisor of Shipbuilding that ran ship’s overhauls in the Los Angeles area. The Hollister had entered the Todd Shipyard in Long Beach for its six-month Regular Overhaul. LTJG Devine had been assigned as the SUPSHIP coordinator. CHENG, aka me, was designated as the ship overhaul coordinator. i laughed when i heard the name of the SUPSHIPS coordinator. i thought they said her name was “I Am Divine.”

We entered the overhaul in September 1974. i almost met my goal. When i relieved as CHENG, i had assessed the ship’s condition after returning from an arduous deployment to Vietnam and subsequent becoming a ship for reserve training. i decided i would consider my tour successful if we made it to the ROH without missing an at-sea assignment. We were scheduled to off load our ammunition and ASROCs at Seal Beach when one of our main generators went out. We finally had it repaired and made it to the offload but we had missed the one scheduled underway period for my time as CHENG.

But going to sea on the Hollister was over for me. She would be in overhaul after i was relieved to report to my next tour in late February 1975.

LTJG Devine was red headed with a nice smile. She was not what i would call pretty, but she was trying to do her job and we got along well…until the overhaul period began.

The two main engine spaces and two firerooms needed major repairs to pumps and especially auxiliary steam piping. The shipyard workers were performing poorly and often blocked ships force from doing their work. i was not happy as the overhaul coordinator of the chief engineer.

i noted my frustration with LTJG Devine and asked her to check it out. I expressed my concerns in the regular meetings of the ship (the captain and me), the shipyard (their coordinator and upper management, and SUPSHIPS. After several weeks of no improvement, i asked the captain to meet with the head of SUPSHIPS, a captain. CDR George Phelps and I went to the Supervisor’s office where he and LTJG Devine waited for us.

George Phelps was old school Navy in that he was the commanding officer, the captain. He ran the ship and stayed out of the engineer’s business. It was much like the merchant marine in there were two fiefdoms on the ship: the engineer and his department and the captain with the rest of the ship. But he backed me to the fullest on every occasion. This was one.

Before we could state our concerns, the supervisor head pointedly stated he believed that i was prejudiced against women and was making false accusations. CDR Phelps gave me the okay to respond with a friendly poke of his elbow in my side.

i explained how the work in our engineering spaces was not on schedule and the shipyard workers had poor work habits or didn’t work at all. Then, i asked LTJG Devine if she had even been in the engineering spaces as i had requested. A good supervisor would have gone through all of the work on the ship several times a week. A really good supervisor would go through those areas every day.

LTJG Devine hesitated and the captain urged her to answer. She finally admitted she had not gone down into the engineering spaces at all. She was replaced the next day.

i felt sorry for Ms Devine. i still do. She had been thrust into a very tough job. i’m guessing no one explained the requirements for being a good SUPSHIPS coordinator, perhaps because she was a woman. i hoped then and i hope now, she came out of the experience okay.

Today, looking back on that incident and my XO tour on Yosemite, i think my complete agreement with CAPT Frank Boyle, my CO, that we didn’t have women on the ship; that we didn’t have men on the ship; we had sailors, and all would be treated equally was positively influenced my by experience on the Hollister.

Elusive Butterfly

In Spanish, mariposa means butterfly.

No, my title is not about the Mariposa diner on Magsaysay Steet, the main drag in Olongapo when the town across the bridge from the U.S. Navy’s Subic Bay Naval Base was the closest thing to Fiddler’s Green that has ever been.

Some of us Navy folks might have experienced a wild night or several wild nights out in that crazy place. However, one of our favorite pastimes in Subic was to walk out of the Naval Base main gate, cross the bridge over “shit river” and watch in amazement as sailors tossed coins into the filthy waters and Filipino young boys dive off of the small skiffs or the bridge itself to retrieve the coins. From there, Mike Peck, Pete Toennies, Al Pavich, OW Wright, and i would walk down Magsaysay roughly a half mile and enter the Mariposa diner. The small open-air restaurant was below street level. The few rickety tables offered a great view of the street. Across Magsaysay was the Wagon Wheel, a bar with many women and where sailors flocked for fun and…

In the Mariposa, we each would order a half-pint of rum made up in the mountains to the north. i believe the rum maker was “Pine Castle.” We would add a coke and ice. The serving cost seven pesos. The ice was four of those pesos. The rum and coke was three pesos.

There, we would watch the show. The shore patrol’s paddy wagon would cruise up and down Magsaysay. They would frequently spot a hungover or drunk sailor, often with only part of his uniform still attached. The shore patrol would corner the sailor and proceed to the paddy wagon with the sailor attempting to get away. Often his attempt was abetted by a young woman who would emerge from the Wagon Wheel or another bar and start swinging wildly at the shore patrol until the SP’s managed to get the sailor in the back of the paddy wagon and lock the door.

It was a grand show to watch while sipping our rum and cola under the old, rusting service tray, which had been painted and hung on the wall. We all admired that tray and thought it was hilarious.

On one such occasion, we were talking when i revealed it was my birthday (January 19, 1970). Mike Peck went up to the proprietor behind the bar. When he came back, the group had kicked in a couple of dollars to buy the tray. It was my birthday present. i wanted to hang it in my home office but Maureen put her foot down. The sign now hangs in my briar patch, my garage work shop and escape from reality.

◆ ◆ ◆

But that “Mariposa,” aka butterfly, is not what i was thinking about.

i was thinking about Bob Lind’s 1965 song “Elusive Butterfly of Love.” Thank you, Dr. Bill Holland.

You see, i came under the spell of an amazing man, the aforementioned Dr. Holland when i began my real journey from my misspent scholarship courtesy of the Navy and two glorious years at Vanderbilt. i went from a very poor engineering student to a hard working three-job, commuting student at Middle Tennessee State University choosing to pursue a Bachelor of Arts in English, something very rare at that time. In fact, i think i was the first student to get a BA degree in English as nearly all English majors were pursuing a BS degree to become teachers.

So i wandered with great wonderment through every level of capability in professors, loving it, punching my tickets for non-English requirements, and wallowing in my deep adoration of literature. Primed with my experience of Dr. Scott Peck and his Shakespeare course, i fell under the spell of Bill Holland. We became friends and i would skip other classes to wander with him across campus and to his office where we would wander further off Romantic Literature and Wordsworth and Robert Penn Warren to investigate the then new idea of Atlantis being in the Aegean, not the Atlantic, and symbolism and hidden meanings of Bobbie Gentry’s “Ode to Billie Joe.”

Eventually, we got around to Bob Lind’s “Elusive Butterfly of Love.” Now, that’s the mariposa that caused me to start this post.

The lyrics:

You might wake up some mornin’
To the sound of something moving past your window in the wind
And if you’re quick enough to rise
You’ll catch a fleeting glimpse of someone’s fading shadow
Out on the new horizon
You may see the floating motion of a distant pair of wings
And if the sleep has left your ears
You might hear footsteps running through an open meadow

Don’t be concerned, it will not harm you
It’s only me pursuing somethin’ I’m not sure of
Across my dreams with nets of wonder
I chase the bright elusive butterfly of love

You might have heard my footsteps
Echo softly in the distance through the canyons of your mind
I might have even called your name
As I ran searching after something to believe in
You might have seen me runnin’
Through the long-abandoned ruins of the dreams you left behind
If you remember something there
That glided past you followed close by heavy breathin’

Don’t be concerned, it will not harm you
It’s only me pursuing somethin’ I’m not sure of
Across my dreams with nets of wonder
I chase the bright elusive butterfly of love

Across my dreams with nets of wonder
I chase the bright elusive butterfly of love.

i know we arrived at about a half-dozen hypotheses and never settled on one deeper meaning of that song. But our discussions covered a wide breadth of connections from biblical, history, literature, and even math. i learned so much from Dr. Bill Holland and forever will be grateful.

Then, reminiscing about my halcyon wanderings from seventy-nine years ago, i reexamined “Elusive Butterfly of Love.”

It seems to me i chased that damn elusive mariposa for about twenty-eight years. i have loved women since somewhere on the south side of puberty. i loved so many who will never know of that amore i had for them. Many will. It was easy for me to love, almost a curse. As Bobby Moore and the Rhythm Aces put it, i was “Searching, Searching, Baby, for my love.” But the love i sought was fleeting, elusive. It didn’t stick. i loved them then; i love them now. But they found all sorts of reasons to not love me. i suspect my going to sea might have had some impact in many of those cases.

But in my late thirties, i told that mariposa of love to take a hike. i was done, burnt out. i decided a single man was what i wanted to be for the rest of my life. i wanted to love women, but i wanted my (and their) independence.

So being the goofy guy, i met this woman. Come the end of July, we will have been married 42 years. She remains gorgeous while i have wandered to old bald man silliness. Yet, she loves me.

And that, my friends, is the best thing that has happened to me.

You see, that friggin’ elusive mariposa of amar ended up in my net.