Category Archives: Sea Stories

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

A Tale of the Sea and Me: A Change Is Gonna Come

Destroyer School was coming to a conclusion. It was autumn 1973. i was disappointed to learn i would not be returning to a weapons or operational job on the East Coast, but had received orders to be the Chief Engineer of the USS Hollister (DD 788), home ported in Long Beach. The mitigating factors were i felt i needed to have more experience in engineering, and my old friend Earl Major also would be going to Long Beach. His ship, the USS England (CG 22), was in the Long Beach Naval Shipyard.

My wife and daughter pulled up stakes in Newport and headed home with my parents, who had flown up to help. i went to Norfolk for almost a month of engineering training. As nearly always happened with me, i was not trained on a FRAM destroyer like the one i would be attached. They put me on a 1200-pound steam plant, a Forrest Sherman class destroyer. i learned a bit, but not like the plant i would inherit.

Earl and i returned to Newport and traveled to Tennessee, switching off driving in Earl’s 1967 Porsche 911. Then Kathie, Blythe, and i headed west.

i was entering a new phase of my Navy: West Coast, engineering, and the new split tour program, which meant in about 18 months, i would go to an amphib or service force ship.

A new world was about to begin.

A Tale of the Sea and Me — Destroyer School Was Fun

Destroyer School was seven months of enjoyment. Our class began in May of 1973.

i learned. Lord, did i learn. i think it might be the most complete and thorough learning experience i’ve ever had over seven months. Every aspect of being a department head on a destroyer, every department was covered. In addition, the group of officers were a rather incredible group of guys. Nearly all were single, and Kathie enjoyed being with them as much as i. We had parties at our Navy housing duplex in Fort Adams. We spent a lot of time in the small officer’s club up from the destroyer piers. WE went out to dine at Salas in Newport and renamed their house wine because Mr. Cribari, we decided looked like Harry Truman.

And i reconnected with LCDR Earl Major. i followed Earl through our childhoods together. He was six months older than me and lived up the hill just over a block from my house. He played third base on the Little League all-star team. i played third the next year. He was the co-captain of the junior high football team, i was the co-captain the next year. We were counselors for Tennessee Boy’s State together. He went to Auburn on an NROTC scholarship. The next year, i went to Vanderbilt on the NROTC scholarship the next year. We had not seen each other since 1961.

And out of destroyer school, we both were assigned ships in Long Beach. We remained close friends when he died of cancer at 56. But boy, did we have fun.

It was a wonderful time, and we all shared our sea stories. i think this one is one of the best i’ve ever heard.

Several officers who had served on the USS Brownson (DD 868).

CHENG (chief engineer for landlubbers) on the  Brownson had won the respect of the ship’s officers who were with me in the six-month course was just on the south side of daffy and apparently had done several wild and goofy things while aboard . But he was a superb engineer and somehow the captain tolerated all of his shenanigans.

The Brownson had been operating for about two weeks with exercises in the Atlantic op areas off of Newport but had been independent steaming for several days. There was not much going on, no shipping to speak of, and relatively calm seas. Those watches, especially at night, are boring where you struggle to stay awake. CHENG had the mid-watch on the bridge, nine total bodies on the bridge in the dark. In watches like that when i was OOD, i would query the watch standers about the actual names of the 16 points in the compass, like “one point off the starboard bow” is “nor, nor by nor east.”

But Brownson’s CHENG had a bigger idea. About half-way through his mid-watch, he transferred steering control to after steering. Then he shifted the entire bridge team to the flying bridge on the 04 level directly above the bridge. Finally, he had the Boatswainmate of the watch go to the 1MC (the ship’s loudspeaker system) and pipe attention, followed by the announcement, “Captain to the Bridge!” On old destroyers or for that matter any Navy ship i served during my career, every captain when underway spent his nights in the “sea cabin” immediately aft of the bridge so he could quickly access the bridge in an emergency — apparently, the new age of commanding officers no longer feel required to sleep in the sea cabin but choose the much larger, more comfortable Captain’s Cabin below the bridge for the evening.

So the pipe had called attention and the BMOW had called the captain to the bridge. The captain erupts from his rack, crashes out of the sea cabin in his pajamas with his housecoat dragging behind…and there in the middle of the night on the “darken ship” bridge no one is on the bridge. The bridge was empty.

The officers telling the story did not explain what happened after that except to say, the captain and CHENG had a meaningful conversation in the wardroom the next morning.

i keep trying to imagine what ran through the captain’s mind those first thirty seconds or so when he ran onto the bridge ready for an incredible emergency and the bridge was empty.

Heroes

This past week, i have been occupied mentally emotionally with my loss of Marty Linville, friend and golfing buddy. The day he passed along that bridge, Friday, July 5, we had two visitors in the late afternoon.

Like Marty, they are heroes. Darryl Gunter and Chris Holtzman are heroes, success stories really.

Our two visitors stopped by because Darryl and i go back a long way. Darryl was a third class boiler technician on the USS Yosemite (AD 19) when i became the executive officer and deployed to the Indian Ocean. Darryl was one of the fireroom geniuses that used oversized burner plates for the boilers to get us to Rota as scheduled.

After twelve years, he left the Navy, graduated from Georgia Tech with a degree in mechanical engineering, and established Atlanta Boiler and Mechanical, a successful company. He is semi-retired and one of his sons manages the company.

Darryl and i reconnected on the Yosemite’s Facebook group. The reconnection has been good. i have noted earlier Darryl, out of the blue, sent me coasters with the Castle Heights seal, my graduation year, my rank and my name. They occupy a prominent place in our family room, and i use one every evening.

When Darryl told me he was going to be out here and would like to stop by, i was excited. i began to do a bit of research. In addition to starting and making Atlanta Boiler and Mechanical a success, Darryl has done some other things. He is the Atlanta “Chapter Commander” of the Combat Veterans Motorcycle Association. This is not a motorcycle club. This is an association of veterans who saw combat and enjoy motorcycle riding as a hobby.

The association’s focus is not riding bikes. They “support and protect those who have defended our country and our freedoms,” providing assistance and help to individual veterans, veteran care facilities, other veteran organizations and registered charities.

Chris and Darryl on the road.

The stories these two heroes, Darryl and Chris, told of how they saved an old aged disabled vet from having to do a reverse mortgage; how they mowed lawns, repaired homes for other veterans, and others, made me gleam with pride.

These two are also riders for escorting veterans to their final resting places in a motorcycle escort. Darryl is a senior ride captain for the Patriot Guard Riders, who honor their lost fellow veteran.

So these two heroes decided to take a trip. They got on their bikes and took a trip. i keep writing “heroes.” i should explain why:

Darryl was on the USS Sellers (DDG 11) which was one of our ships off of Beirut when our Marines were killed in the bombing. The ship was also in a confrontation with Iran in the Persian Gulf. He has developed spinal stenosis due to a shipboard accident.

Chris was in Iraq. He was the turret gunner in an Army armored vehicle. He received 100 wounds in the conflict and suffers from PTSD.

Heroes.

And they continue being good souls looking after veterans who have had a rough time and need help.

The trip. They took off from Atlanta and in four months, went through 22 states, one Canadian province, covering over 9,200 miles in four months. Their bikes make my Mazda 3 hatchback look small.

As this trip unfolded with my following it from the cloud and when we spent the afternoon with them, it occurred to me that this was the way it should be in our country. These two guys were two of the nicest guys i’ve been with in quite a while. They are patriots but they are loyal to the country and those who served with them. They were courteous, funny, loving life, and living that life to the fullest.

They are good people and folks should not throw them into some preconceived notion about motorcycle riders, veterans, or any other category they might choose to mislabel them.

These two guys are heroes.

Thanks, Darryl and Chris (Chris took this photo)

The Way To Go

“Oh, how would you like to go?” they ask,
“For you are getting to that age you know,
“Not that we are wishing you to go too soon,
“But we should be prepared…”
take me down to the water’s edge
like they did with the Vikings of old,
instead of a pyre, put me on a ship;
not a sailboat, mind you,
although that would be okay;
nor Never a new electronic-laden vessel
with fuel so clean and computers amok;
but
on an old ship,
a black-oil steam ship
and
let go all lines
with me aboard
where we would be
haze gray and underway.

A Tale of the Sea and Me: Three Good Moments in My Last Months on the Luce

In December 1972, we returned to Newport after the storm to top all storms i experienced in my time at sea. My wife was waiting on the pier. We spent some time in Tennessee and i saw my five-month old daughter Blythe, who i had not seen in four months. The Christmas in Paris, Texas with Kathie’s parents. Then back to the ship.

Shortly after we returned, the Navy informed me, i needed to become a regular line officer, which included being accepted and attending the Navy’s Destroyer School department head course. i sweated for about a month as i had committed to a life at sea and didn’t know how i would get back into sportswriting if i failed. Finally, i received word i had been accepted to Destroyer School, and i would become an officer of the line, regular Navy.

The next evolution was in February when we would have an NWAI — i know, i know, you are supposed to use the full title first followed by the acronym in parentheses, but the Nuclear Weapons Acceptance Inspection was the mother of all inspections at the time with a joint service team out of New Mexico conducting the inspection. i thought introducing it as “NWAI” was appropriate (and quite honestly, i could have mixed up my acronyms on this one).

February in Newport, Rhode Island. It was cold. We quickly learned our sister ship, the USS Farragut (DLG 6) had failed the inspection the previous week, supposedly when their new system, a more modern loading system for the Anti-Submarine Rocket had closed the loading doors on the missile before it could be loaded. Although we had the original Rube Goldberg loading system, it still gave us cause for more concern.

The two-day inspection began on a Tuesday morning. At reveille, my ASROC gunner’s mates, sonar technicians, and torpedo men hit the weather decks with shovels and brooms. Our weather decks, where the most important part of the inspection would take place, were covered in a several inches of ice. They broke it up, shoveled it up, and swept the ice over the side.

When the inspection party arrived. We met them on the quarterdeck. As the Air Force who was inspecting the ASW system was introduced to me, i handed him a complete cold weackather gear package. i hope it didn’t impact his decisions. i don’t think it did. But we passed with flying tcolors, and he was very appreciative.

Then, there was this highlight of my Navy career.

Later that spring, probably in April, steaming in the operating areas off of Newport, Rhode Island, my father saw why I went to sea. The U.S.S. Luce (DLG 7), was undergoing a major inspection. My Commanding Officer learned of my father visiting and invited him to ride during our underway day.

As a lieutenant, I was the sea detail officer of the deck. My father was by my side as I had the “conn” while the ship stood out of Narragansett Bay. As soon as we reached the operating area, we went to 25 knots for rudder tests, rapidly shifting the rudder to max angles both ways. The commanding officer and I went into a frantic dance, running in opposite directions across the bridge to hang over each wing checking for small craft in the dramatic turns.

After the rudder tests, I took my father into the bowels of the ship to our anti-submarine warfare spaces. My father stood behind me as I directed prosecution of a submarine contact. In the darkened spaces with sonar pings resounding, he watched as we tracked the sub on our fire control screen and simulated firing a torpedo.

After lunch, we set general quarters and ran through engineering drills. Finally, we transited back to Newport.

With mooring complete, the captain gave my father a ship’s plaque. My wife and mother were waiting on the pier when we debarked from the ship’s quarterdeck. As we walked the brow to the pier, my father said to me, “Son, I now understand why you would want to make this a career.”

That, to me, was one of the most rewarding moments of my life.

Finally, later in the spring, Kathie and i held a party. i think it may have been a “hail and well” party as i was detaching and reporting to Destroyer School. My close friend from Lebanon, Earl Major, was attending the same class and he came to the party. He and my CO, CDR Butts were talking. My captain told Earl i was one of the best OOD’s he had ever had but every time i took the watch in the Med, it seemed like i drew ships to close calls.

The Luce was one of my best tours, albeit short. Commander Richard Butts was one of the best commanding officers and Ted Fenno was one of the two top XO’s on my ships along side Louis Guimond.

She was a good ship, and CDR Butts was an incredible Navy officer.