i had mixed feelings about the next phase of my career.

i was a destroyer man. The Lloyd Thomas, the Hawkins, the Waldron, the Luce, and the Hollister were tin cans, greyhounds of the sea roaring into the white caps at 35 knots, shooting incredible five-inch shells out of those gun mounts, training in any multiple threat environment: visaged gray ladies that ruled the oceans.

Now, i was going to a completely different world. The only appealing aspect to me was boatswain mates, the backbone of the Navy from day one. i really had no idea of what my new job as the First Lieutenant on the USS Anchorage (LSD 36) would entail. i was glad to move my wife and daughter into Pacific Beach Navy housing in San Diego, but i was pretty much clueless about what would follow. i did know Anchorage would deploy with Amphibious Squadron Five in mid-March just after i reported aboard. i also knew the LSDs had a bosun, Chief Warrant Officer Boatswain. Knowing that i would have someone guide me through the learning process as STC Rogers had on the Hawkins, STC Jenkins had on the Luce, BTCM Miller had on the Hollister.

◆ ◆ ◆

We moved into Pacific Beach Navy housing in late January. Moving has always been a major pain. This move was no less painful even though it was just over 100 miles. But we made it. We settled in and i reported for duty. After destroyers, the Anchorage seemed enormous. After i saluted the ensign and requested to come aboard, i was walked to the executive officer’s cabin. From there, we walked next door to the captain’s cabin. Charlie introduced me to CDR Lou Aldana. He was a tall, angular man with a dour countenance. During our talk, i found that he cared about his ship and his men. That made it just fine with me.

The captain also gave me his instructions on how the first lieutenant on an LSD should perform:

“You are like a farmer,” he began, “When it is not raining, your guys have to prep and paint the weather decks…all of the time. That is one of your most important responsibilities.”

It sounded mundane, but it true. The deck force and the deep hole snipes were the hardest working guys in Navy show business. i was about to discover that the deck force were not only “farmers” on weather spaces, they were always working on every aspect of amphibious shipboard life.

◆ ◆ ◆

i then found out the one person i was relying upon to help me through the learning process was no longer there. Bosun Holtzclaw, whom i never met, had been transferred about a month before i reported aboard. There would not be a replacement. i had no chief boatswain mate in the department and only one LTJG who had deployed before. Shortly after i arrived, my most experienced first class boatswain mate was transferred to a LST in our squadron as events had left the ship without one. i was down to one first class, BM1 Hansborough, who was in charge of first division, and a BMC, who had spent his 15 years as a boxer and currently was the “3M” coordinator in charge of the Navy’s preventive maintenance program, not even assigned to the Deck department. Challenges lay ahead.

◆ ◆ ◆

My wife Kathie and i were excited about being in San Diego. Our new neighbors had a daughter Blythe’s age of three, and they were nice folks. And we were in San Diego, a place i had found intriguing since i read about it back in the early 60s.

When we realized, we were less than two miles from the beach, we resolved to get there as soon as possible. After we had unpacked all of the boxes and had our home in Navy housing in satisfactory shape, we drove down to the beach and parked. We walked to the beach. i was excited. i had never been to a Southern California beach. Kathie held Blythe as i shed my top shirt and shoes and ran to the water. i ran into the surf and dove into the first waves.

It was then i discovered the Japanese current brings cold water down from the Arctic Circle. As Bill Cosby noted in one of his skits (before he was convicted of his crimes) that when he hit the water, his body became “one giant goose bump.” The Pacific Ocean off the Southwestern corner coast is not warm until about two weeks in August.

i quickly emerged, grabbed the towel and wrapped it around me. Thus began my next adventure. In a month, i would be on the USS Anchorage as her first lieutenant, deployed to the western Pacific for ten months. i had no idea of the challenges ahead.

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.

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.

i have been quiet for a while on my sea stories. There are numerous reasons/excuses, but i’m 81 and working on what i want to do for the rest of my life. One thing i will continue to do is write. So, let’s get to it.

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.”

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.