It was 52 years ago, and unlike when i wrote my book, Steel Decks and Glass Ceilings, i do not have the ship’s logs nor pretty extensive notes to give me exact dates. i’m pretty sure this liberty port was before our other liberty port was changed from Venice to Naples (naturally).

Regardless, it was my first time to visit the Spanish island of Majorca and its port city of Majorca. It is, i think, the second place i decided i should move to overseas after being out of port in Sasebo in 1970. But Majorca was more entrancing. Even now, i think i could live there.

i don’t remember a great deal of that week. i remember walking the streets of Palma with the old and beautiful buildings surrounding me. i remember stopping at a tapas bar and drinking sangria (a lot of sangria) with four or so of my sonar gang. i remember one other officer (i can’t remember who) driving around the perimeter of the island. It seemed about every five miles or so, there was a different European country had established that beach as their tourist spot. There was Spain, Holland, Britain, Germany, France, and on and on. i remember the difference in the bars at those spots. Mostly, i remember gaping at all the beautiful beach women who went topless.

i remember buying a lot of gifts, mostly leather in the shops in the Palma’s shopping district. On Yosemite, i went back ten years later. And all of memories were justified and then some.

Palma is a Mediterranean dream of an island. i would go back again.