Thanks for the pictures Rich!  It was great seeing them old faces again.  I had to laugh when I saw the picture of Rod Andrews in Africa.  He certainly looked much better in that picture than what I remembered of him in Africa.  Here's what I recall of the day: Dicko, Q and I went ashore together.  We braved the cattle boat ride over (~2 hrs in a cramped, hot, rust bucket) only to find the beach was pretty lacking in accommodations.  Since we didn't want to go through two liberty boat ordeals in one day, we took a cab to the outskirts of town, hoping to find somewhere to stay.  After many no vacancies we found a hotel that wasn't exactly paradise but it had one room left and they were willing to let us have it for some outrageous price (~$200).  We were stuck between a rock and a hard place so we forked over our Shillings and the guy gave us a key to our room.  When we opened the door we found the room's air conditioner lying on the floor--it had fallen through the ceiling!  We complained to the management and they found us (surprise) another room.  This room had reptiles in the bathtub but at least it had a working air conditioner.  

It was a pretty relaxing day after that.  We pretty much sat pool-side, drinking and such.  At night we were too scared to venture away from the hotel so we went to the hotel's restaurant for dinner.  The place was empty except for Rod Andrews and some others.  I can't remember who else was there.  (Was it you and Rollo?)  Anyway, as we sat there waiting for our dinner a very drunk and disorderly Rod was ranting and raving at the other table.  We couldn't figure out what was wrong.  Rod was drunk, true, but he was usually pretty mellow on such occasions.  It only got worse as the waiters brought more beers and wine to his table.  After about an hour or two, Rod [and his table] got up and left, swearing at the waiters and anyone else who cared.  On the way out we stopped him and asked what was up and he told us that they had been waiting for over 3 hrs and still hadn't gotten their dinner.  It wasn't like the place was mobbed or anything.  We waited about 3 hrs too, and like Rod and his gang, gave the waiters (and whoever else would listen) a piece of our minds as we left, too.  

Later that night we nursed a few cases of Tusker Beer by the pool while making a tape for my girlfriend (now wife).  I sent the tape to her and we still have it.  Whenever I listen to it [I dubbed it "Moonlight in Mombassa"] I laugh and reflect on how drunk we were.  If I remember correctly, that tape got me into trouble because I orated a poem to my beloved, and got the color of her eyes wrong.     

On a funny note I remember telling people (since every one was asking) that we only paid $10 for our room.  All the other squids got ripped off like we did and it was like adding salt to their wounds when they thought they were the only ones that got soaked.

I also remember J. Rollo.  Wasn't his dad a jeweler or something?  I think he was the one who used to wear a real Rolex watch down the plant, while the rest of us wore those fake HK knock-offs?       

KP

My name is Mark H. Schall. I served in RM division, in 4-plant, from 1977 to 1980. Please add me to your roster. My e-mail address is mschall@ec.rr.com

About the time I got married in 1986, my wife saw me in the bathroom leaving a leak. She said, "What are you doing? Holding up the wall?" I didn't know what she meant at first, then noticed she was looking at my hand, which was on the wall, above the toilet and I was kinda leaning against it. After thinking about it for a minute, I told her it must have been an old habit from my drinking days, trying to keep from falling down (as Dirtbag was kind enough to imply).

A few years later, in fall of 1988, I was sent to San Jose for a training class at the GE training center. I brought the old lady along; got to bring her for the cost of the plane ride (the utility I was working for was paying for the apartment and food). We drove past the old Arrgh! hangouts in Hayward and Alameda. I actually got to show her the Big "E" in her berth outside the base in Alameda.  Remember the side street that ended near the back of the base, and you could look right at the fantail through the fence there? Unfortunately, it was the day before she left for a cruise, so I couldn't get aboard for a tour (darn the bad timing)! Instead, we went to Fisherman's Warf in SF and took the Alcatraz Island cruise (my first cruise since the Navy) and went past the island, checked out the docks, etc. You know, the 1 hour tour thing. During the ride, I had to leave one, and went to the head (appropriate term here, since it was aboard a boat). While going, I realized why I did the hand over the toilet thing! It was to keep from pissin' everywhere but in the urinal!

Turns out it was an old Navy habit, but one I frequently see repeated in public restrooms. Every once in a while I'll ask the guy I see doing it what ship they were on. Every time I have, the guy was ex-Navy, and asked how I knew ....

Arrgh! (still holding up the wall after 20 years)

One quick cruiser sea story (circa 1985). A Norfolk based cruiser was deployed and, as you know, ship's laundry did not do civvies. CGNs did, however, come with a nice Maytag washer and dryer setup for a decon laundry (unused, as tenders and shipyards took care of this for CGNs).  So the ELTs on this fine nuclear vessel decided to make use of the facilities to wash civilian clothes prior to a port visit. A box of Tide, a little time and no problem. The ELTs hit the beach in clean duds. 

Three weeks or so later, sample from the contaminated storage tank come in about 10x higher activity levels than the month before. Seems the trusty Tide combined with some moderate rolls unstuck several year's worth of crud from the tank walls.

The CRA wrote up some BS about high seas. I dunno if he ever knew the true story.

Cruiser Ghost

Why Cruiser Nukes Were Sometimes Full of Shit:

For those unfamiliar with the CGN-38 Class sewage system (CHT system), it was basically holding tanks of about 12 hour capacity with pump to shift tank contents over the side (or to shore side hose) when tanks were full. The system was designed to reduce weight, with smallest practical diameter of pipes.

So, take a few years of seawater flushes and sailor processed beer and bug juice, the piping and check valves are clogged internally with scale. So our fine CGN makes a 6 weeks REFTRA trip to Cuba. There were NINE days of that damned trip when the contents of the CHT tanks were NOT pumped into heads between MM and EM berthing. You could be in the shower, a slight rumble, and the section of the head containing the urinals, toilets and sinks would be filled to the combing (about ten inches) with water and a fine collection of brown trout. A careful guy could sort of swing across the overhead from the shower area across the shit pond to berthing (about 10 feet across maybe).

The flow was something to see, would come from toilets in a high arc that would hit the metal ceiling tiles in the head. Heavy rolls or a particularly vigorous flow would pass over the combing and into berthing. Bottom racks can be a curse at times.

As I say, this occurred at least once a day for all but 9 days of the little 6 week cruise. So when you think some poor cruiser nuke is so full of shit that he must have brown eyes, you may be right. He got them the hard way. 

Cruiser Ghost

PS: Yeah, at least once a guy (can't remember the guy's name) was actually in situ when the pumps started. After that we pretty much left the stall doors hooked open so a fast exit was available.

PPS: About cruiser vulnerability to missile fire. The 38 class had hulls of HY80 steel, a mighty 3/8 of an inch thick! Easy to show core protection because after a missile hit, the thing would sink fast enough to prevent core damage.

M. Link Esq writes of the Anchor Tavern and it's owner. His name was Napkin Moore. First name I think was Jim, but everyone called him Napkin. He was a 2 plant RO and got out shortly after we hit the yards in 1979. I don't recall for sure how he got the name, but there was a story about an RO that got a head relief. On the way back he picked up a Pay Day candy bar, spread some peanut butter from the mess decks on it, wrapped it in a napkin and brought it back to the EOS. When the other RO asked him about his BM, he broke out the napkin and contents and showed it to the other guy. The EOOW was of the squeamish ring -knocker variety and didn't react well when the second RO liked what he saw and took a bite of it. Maybe it's an urban legend, I don't know...it happened before I got there.

I used to have one of those tokens, man that brings back some memories. I used to get so wasted in that bar. Rainier Ale...just loved the stuff. I think I was there when Ben Hunt hit that guy. Ben was a good guy. I think he was a friend of Lon Weber and Greg DuBois. I saw Greg's picture on the cover of Nuclear Professional a few years ago. He was working for one of the Commonwealth Edison plants ion training. I used to keep in touch with Lon but lost track. I think he's still in Phoenix.

I got a Christmas card from Denver D. a couple weeks ago. I'm a Husker fan, he likes the Buffaloes. It was his turn to rub it in this year. Well, we had a good run anyway.

Someone asked how I got my name. My first night out in PI, along with Bob Olsen, Ron Hayden, Rex Campbell, Meatsball and others, it got very drunk out. As I was heading back to the ship, I thought it would be a good idea to lighten my load and puked over the side of Shit River bridge. Unfortunately there was a girl in a Bongo (banca) boat right below. Instead of throwing peso's, I hurled chunks. So Bongo Bill became my Dopey book name.

I used to pal around with Steve Arias on the Big E and in San Diego later. If anyone knows his whereabouts let me know. He was a good dude.

In my era, there was a large Wog faction. I guess it was our form of anarchy or defiance but many of us never participated. To tell you the truth, I never felt bad about it once. I did have to stand watch for someone who did want to do it though.

Looking through the cruisebook, I see Mike Je__ett's picture. Mike was one of those guys that nature never gave a break to ...so we didn't either. We used to torment him so when he was the charging watch, we'd play this game in EOS. We'd call him to go downstairs to lineup the bilge to drain or whatever. As soon as he got there, we'd call him back upstairs. Up and down, up and down until he finally blew up. Mike had a cleft palate and about 90% of his body was covered in tattoos. They referred to him as The Illustrated Man and The Walking Comic Book in the Dopey Book. Mike took a ceramics class in Bangor when we were in the yards. After TMI, Mike made a bunch of "Cooling Tower" coffee mugs that were pretty cool. Sold quite a few. Mike really wasn't a bad guy and didn't deserve a fraction of the grief inflicted on him. He was just an easy target.

Mike Anglada was another guy that had an interesting story. The only time Mike left the base in Subic was to volunteer for one of those Habitat for Humanity things like building churches etc. He wasn't the first guy you'd call to go party with but I wouldn't mind having him for a neighbor nowadays. Anyway, walking thru Olongapo, one of the street vendors was selling puppies. Mike thought one would make a nice gift for one his local church friends. Before he could say anything, that puppy was quartered and wrapped in newspaper, ready for the grill. Wasn't what he had in mind, I don't think.

The first time we pulled into Subic, the local police wanted to see Ron Hayden. He thought he was screwed, just didn't know what for. Turns out, a guy had stolen his watch the previous cruise and had been rotting in the city jail for at least a year waiting for Ron to ID him. Lucky for that guy, Ron didn't get sent to the East Coast or that guy would still probably be there. Martial law was in effect and those guys didn't screw around.

RM22's (and others) hangout in PI was the Palladium where they made the best Mojo and had the worst band...the Mighty Its. Let's just say they weren't going to be playing at the New Florida anytime soon. They'd get a standing O every time the power would go out (a frequent occurrence). We'd often stay at the Plaza hotel, Olongapo's only decent place. There was a midnight curfew and Shore Patrol would group up by the Plaza and clean the streets and bars of sailors. We'd bomb them with beer bottles from the roof of the Plaza. Sometimes we'd stay at the Marmont, out past Subic City. That was very cool.

Bongo Bill

please add my name to the list of alumni

Rick Newman (Chester)
EM-23 84-88
rmmmn@adelphia.net

I love this site. It brings back so many memories

Need A Job?

If you are a nuclear trained I&C type procedure writer, they're looking for someone for a short term (3 months) assignment at the Nevada Test Site.  On eof the requirements involved rad worker trained, so you'll probably be playing banana suit man. If interested, e-mail me and I'll get the details to you.

jimschibetta@yahoo.com

The other day someone called me and asked me if I wanted a job.  It was some headhunter guy.  I was perplexed as to how this person knew me and he told me he found my resume on the web.  He was looking for a risk management guy.  I laughed since the only resume I have posted is the one on this site.  I had to decline but it could have been a good deal for someone else.  As of now I only have a few resumes on the site; maybe someday someone else might offer an ex nuke a job.  You could be next!!!  

KP 

(message yanked at sender's request)

Ron Ogan, MM1 Reactor #4 CRAO, Shutdown Watch, Throttles, Feed Station, Reactor Aux, CTG Flats, Control Pt. Access Watch. 1974-78 Served from 72-78 Bainbridge MD, Saratoga Springs NY S3G, made the last war cruise to Vietnam. I owe a lot of cigarettes to a lot of good people.

Ron_Ogan@cox.net

The US Navy will be implementing a new catch and release program in its war on terrorism. This new program targets smaller terrorist cells and fringe groups for the purposes of intelligence gathering.

Once these small groups are captured and interrogated, they are then released as seen here in this Navy photo....

KP  

Hm. I don't remember seeing anyone check the color under the button. Then again, with the passing years I can't even remember where we kept the engine room stash of pens. I do remember them being used many times for emergency cigarette lighters, particularly by SROs. That went this way: Unscrew pen, remove spring, pop the light out of battle lantern, put the spring across the two spikes inside, turn on switch ... and instant light. Seemed to nicely re-temper the springs too. 

One slight trick the shutdown mechanic or electrician would play on a nub SRO. There were no coke machines (cans, I mean) on a cruiser.  So on about second watch of a new nub, the mechanic would hit the pier to "check potable water" or the electrician to "check shore power." En route, get two or three cokes for the SRO. Then the electrician and mechanic adjourn to the other plant, leaving the SRO to explode his bladder. Minor fun I suppose, but good fun none the less. 

I am not sure those who spent sea duty only on carriers can understand how empty a small ship can be in port nights/weekends. The topsiders generally were in 5 section duty, the nukes in three. Comes out, I think, to something like 80 guys on board. Tours of out of plant spaces were quite and solitary.  Shutdown electricians toured diesel generator and switchgear rooms, and could hang out in either plant. Mechanics toured both engine rooms, shaft alleys and 4 aux rooms. Engineering duty officer and EDPO were supposed to tour all in and out of plant spaces daily (or was it once day and once at night?). 

Not that this always happened. Around 1986, one of the shaft alley's filled up to deck plate level with inleakage from the shaft seal (a small but constant leak). A T-div nub climbed down to shaft alley on a Monday morning (I think it was Monday), started to open the small WT door to shaft alley, and got douched with seawater. Big flap, they called away a flooding casualty, and decided to burn the MMs on watch. Funny thing, the EDOs and EDPOs had all signed off that night, and the previous nights for shaft alley tours. So ... lots of shit in plant for everyone, but no court martial or mast.  That night I did have to show a couple of the officers how to find the out of plant spaces they had been "touring" for the past few months. No incident report either as I recall (memories do fade) as shaft alley belonged to the nukes, but was not a nuclear sort of space.

Moral of this story? "Dirtbag ringworm officer types can be your best friend."

Cruiser Ghost

King Paul,

Mike Je__ett came back to the pig in the early 80's and we were not nice to him at all. He was working on getting the other 10% of his body filled in and we referred to him as the illustrated moron. The LL watches would talk to each other and page his ass from one side to the other and one or the other routinely got him with a water trap.

How little respect we had for ourselves that we would p*ss in soda cans, poly bottles, funnels, and last but not least that huge toilet known affectionately as the bilge. I can remember filling three cans in one lovely SRO watch, hey cruiser dude you would be amazed how lonely a carrier is at 5am inport it is just the SRO and the Log Dog. 1000ml poly bottles are a gift from heaven at times like that.

ARRGH do you remember the name of the RM type who commenced to puking on CTG flats at the sounding of C note upon leaving Bremerton, if I recall we were not even rotating shafts but had just thrown back the first line.

Mike N

Now that I think back to those long ago SRA days, the plants really were like ghost towns.  The SRE had either the two fwd plants or the two aft plants to patrol (not to mention the fwd or aft messdecks).  Most of my watch was spent shooting the shit with the SRO of my choice.  The cold iron guy (and anyone else that was on watch) would probably be in EOS too.  The thing that sucked most was doing those damn midwatch entries.  The SRE had 4 sets of logs (2 CRER and 2 SRE) and it would take almost a full hour to get those stupid things done.  

When I was RE, though, I remember writing lots of stupid things in my midwatch entries, trying to use almost a full page to list every minute detail possible.  We had contests to see who could do the longest and most creative midwatch entry.  Sometimes I even did them in verse.  No one seemed to appreciate it though.  I think once an MTT guy spotted one of these laborious entries while reviewing logs and mentioned it in his report and we were warned via an RCA memo not to do them anymore.

KP

If [you're] looking for a job, check out Wisconsin Public Service (WPS). You can get on their email list for openings. Suppose to be a good place to work. 

Hey, I get my anthrax shot this weekend ! What a deal. I knew it was a smart move to join the reserves! I'll let you figure out if I'm serious or not..... 

Nuke school memory ... Remember the Cinema Pub? It was a movie theatre where you could drink, smoke and order meals. You sat at a table. Cost $1.00 to get in on a midnight show and would spend $20.00 (1981) on beer and pizza. One night I went with a buddy on my motorcycle and after getting pretty wasted got lost on the way home. We were cruising at 2 AM in the "Non tourist" section of Orlando and looking for a cop to get directions. I decided to run all red lights and stop signs till a cop pulled me over so I could ask them how to get home. After about two dozen or so infractions we pulled on to OBT. I remember pulling a nice long wheely past the gate guards on the base. Guess they were used to drunks pulling in 'cause no one chased us. Well keep up the good work on the site........................................

Joe Drees

G. B.

KP, 

Your talk of long form logs reminds me of a nice little incident (followed by a mast). Our Good Cruiser was not long back from a Med run, safely in home port for Christmas. We were all warned that NO jokes or notations (poetry, etc) about Christmas in the logs would be tolerated. Somewhere around 3 am on Christmas morning the NR guy paid a visit to the plant. The mechanic was taking 4.0 logs on lower level, wearing a Santa Claus hat. HORROR!

Well, the EDO was dragged out of bed, incident report written, and the poor bugger sent to mast (but not de-nuked as I recall). 

Lots of stories come to mind reading the postings on this site, mostly about the way some of our "leaders" treated us. (After getting out, I ended up with a degree in "Leadership Studies"...my nuke years giving me some good and many bad examples of leaders). 

One quick note about the yards. We were in the yards for a fast SRA (just a few months) to have all sea-chests replaced (they were made of defective alloy) and a resin change. No barge or barracks were available, so the duty section and us poor bastard bachelors had to live on board. In dry dock, no steam for heat ... and down to upper 20s. Don't know if I have ever been so damned cold. No problem with gays then, a shower with 33 degree water enforced purity. Anyhow, the solid plant watch was stationed on lower level, with a hull cut to the dry dock about two feet away. The SRO had a TV cam that looked over the SP watch's shoulder, so EOS could read the gauge. About ten hours into a 12 hour solid plant watch, the mechanic decided to piss down into the drydock. Unfortunately, the engine room fans kept a negative air pressure. He pissed down the missing sea chest ... and the air flow blew the piss back onto his shoes at legs ... but he was too tired to notice. He got relieved at 6 am, then worked to clear some tags. At 8 am we got off duty ... and then had two hours of training. In the warmth of the training trailer we all noticed a pronounced smell of piss ... checked the coke cans and trash cans ... thinking a yard bird had left a present. Odor was traced to the SP watch, who finally realized what happened. Not really surprising, you were always up at least 24 straight on those yard watches, then training and stuff after. Good thing we were mostly young then. 

Cruiser Ghost 

KP - I remember the PointAfter, and didn't care for the distinct Anti-Naval atmosphere there. I recall more than once leaving in a big hurry to avoid beer bottle "bashes" myself! Why my buddies insisted on going in spite of the bad vibes I don't know.   Perhaps the lure of the female of the species...

I remember doing most of the usual bars like Rosey O'Gradys, etc. We had our own little hideaway where we spent lots of time before I went to Nuc School. It was a pond, I think it was off the same highway that lead to the PointAfter. You turned onto this dirt driveway, doubled back through some trees, and there was this large irrigation pond. Drank lots of beer, built fires, partied hard and even had the pleasure of some female companionship there. We watched a launch from the Cape from there one night, and that was impressive (may have been due to certain "sensory enhancements" we were experiencing). I also liked that restaurant, the 94th Aero Squardon, which was at the small airport near the base. That was cool! I'm a sucker for theme restaurants!

After Nuc School started, it was the weekly excursions to New Symrna Beach that were highlighted by Saturday evenings at PJ's in Daytona. I can't recall how many nights I spent in the hotel "Wynn Dixie", or "Piggly Wiggly", or whatever, before spending another Sunday at the beach. No wonder I had such marginal grades in Nuc School! I still managed to avoid ever being assigned mandatory study hours. I think I actually studied at the school, maybe, 4 or 5 times in the whole 6 months. I have no idea how I made it, drunk EVERY night and obliterated most of them. I was hung over through many morning sessions so badly that I could hardly understand my notes.

Our class 7904, section 12, had the worst bunch of derelicts, assorted wildmen, including the Menthol Men, and various other wild incidents that I don't even recall, many that others had that I wasn't even aware of! We drove the chief crazy! Once, he came in to chew us out for something, and when he pulled down the projector screen to show us something or other, there were various tests and quizzes with the infamous "Double Unsats" and zeros, etc from those in our class. He was livid! If I remember, I think he just walked out, because he was sooo mad, he couldn't speak.

Why?? Because, of course! I guess if I were a real philosopher, I'd have said, "Why not?", eh, Steamer? Somehow, we all lived, and most of us even made it to prototype. Truely amazing... 

Arrgh!

Arggh! always seems to ignite a memory in my head.  When he mentioned that place by the lake it brought back a not-so-funny memory.  Those of you who read my Mooj story entitled My Not So Bitchen Prom might get a kick out of the fact that this story was based loosely on a real-life event that occurred on that dirt road up near the PointAfter.  (Or one in that general vicinity.)  Except in real life I didn't get killed by some psycho (like the guy in the story does).  I was on that road with a girl I had met a few weeks earlier at the 84th Aerial Squadron.  We drove along that dirt road, looking for a desolate place to park and watch the submarine races.  After finding a place that seemed dark and secluded we commenced to making out until headlights appeared in the rearview mirror.  The horror I describe in my story as the headlights get closer, stop, closer, stop, etc. was accurate.  Except in real life it turned out to be some pre-teen girls, who had taken their mom's station wagon out for a joyride and gotten it stuck in the sand.  My date and I had to help these poor girls get their car unstuck.  When we were through we were too tired to do anything else so my date took me back to the base.

There's another story in that very same Mooj newsletter called A Sign From God.  That, too [like most of my Mooj stories] was based on a true story.  I loved writing it since my grandpa was a huge Red Sox fan all his life.  As a boy I often summered in Cape Cod and it was (and still is) my favorite place on Earth.  You'll find many Cape Cod stories among my Mooj ranting and ravings.

Rosie O' Grady's was still a happen' place in my time; however, disco had been displaced by break dancing music.  In fact, us 8502 dudes were often seen there out on the floor, bustin' a groove (except we were doing it because we were drunk; not so much because we liked the music).  One night we invented a dance called "the gate guard," which was inspired by our nuke waste brethren, who after failing out of nuke school could often be seen standing at the McGwire gate, saluting in cars.  The dance was basically moving your arm back and forth across your chest, with an occasional "whoop whoop" when an officer car came through and your arm went up to your head.  The funny thing about it was people started to copy us and soon every one was out there on the dance floor doing it.  Sad.  Or at least I thought it was.  

Another bar we liked was called The Giraffe Lounge, up by Disney World.  Some amusing stuff happened there that I might write about someday.  But, frankly, I'm trying to forget most of it.

KP    

I haven't looked at the site for a few months, but it is getting better and better. Some great stories and some familiar names bring back some funny stories. When I saw Wittkop's name I remembered the great Thanksgiving Day of 98, underway in the Med. The highly intelligent airdales once again found a way to annoy the nukes. At about 4AM they decided to dispose of some JP5 soaked rags in the incinerator designed for paper destruction. Funny, they couldn't figure out why the whole thing started burning. Next thing you know, the exhaust trunk for Rx berthing is melted away, filling berthing with smoke. So, all the nukes went out to the aft messdecks in various states of dress, mostly boxers and flip-flops. And, of course, the mess deck master-at-arms tells them that they need to put on some clothes.  So Wittkop finds a new, ecologically sound paper trash bag, cuts out holes for his head and arms and puts it on. He even stenciled his name and crow on it, just to be 4.0. And, of course, we had women on board, and they were less than thrilled with 500 nukes in boxers sitting on the mess decks while they were trying to eat. It still cracks me up to remember all the things that nukes do, just to annoy the airdales.  It was good to see Mike Thomas show up on the site too. I still remember him showing his wife the proper way to use a rack in berthing during a family day cruise. The only bad thing was, it wasn't his rack!

Thanks for keeping the site going, even if the politically correct types on Big E take some exception.

Brian Heasley

Man oh Man,

What a trip !! (That's what we said back in my day) I was trying to check out where the Big -E might be these days and I stumbled across a link to your site. I spent the next three hours reliving some of my past and laughing a lot too. Schmegma house Silverton, WA., Alameda. CA, Idi Amin, The bombing of the ship pulling the target, 6 on and 6 off, dud demo missile launches (remember "Clear the Flight Deck!!" ) Olongapo PI (of course).. Captain Austin, ORSE, Bremerton in dry dock.. So many memories. Anyhow, I'd like to contribute some more later but for now Thanks for the great job getting us all together. Nuke School was a bitch and with the lack of people during my time, the Big-E was even worse but I wouldn't trade those memories now for anything. To all you former and future Nukes, God Bless You! If any of you know Greg Lawrence, Brad Davis, Tom Gonzales, Greg Splett, Chuck Elwood, Bruce Prehal, or others from my era please send them my contact info.

Thanks again,

Buddy Hierholzer, EM1, RE Division, (Reactor One) 1975 - 1979, USS Enterprise, CVAN-65 and later CVN-65
blh-jr@swbell.net
or
bhierholzer@myriad-development.com

From a 90's ET:

I remember back in the yards in Newport News we had one ET, who shall remain unidentified, who had a big plan to, shall we say, make a deposit on the top of each reactor head. I think he got most of them also. Around the time of the 96 cruise we also had a guy down in EE berthing who was a conventional Electrician, who decided to start waking people up by reaching in the middle of the curtains and yanking on a certain part. It took about 3 "wake ups" before he was caught by the MAA's. Glad he didn't try that in the RC berthing. For all those who are thinking that nuke power on the outside will suck, your wrong. Working in an I&C Maintenance department at a civilian nuke plant rocks, good pay, easy work and overtime, God bless the overtime!!!

PK 

KP,

Does anybody remember the RPFW SECURED plastic signs that RC types would hang on the RPCPs and what happened to most of them and why? ROs should have plenty to say about these.

Also, about "Napkin." I'm pretty sure I got the story about how he got his nickname from an eyewitness to the anecdote. He had too much food in his mouth while eating at a table on the mess deck. He was choking or something, anyway, all he could do was point and squeak out the word "napkin." That's how I heard the story about Jim Moore's moniker. I wish I could remember who told me this. It sure is weird how nicknames stick because I don't think I ever heard anyone call him Jim.

Later, Al Berner (aka AB1) RC11 '79-'82

KP,

Since Captain Morpholine and Kid Condensate have made an appearance I should relate some tales from the 98-99 med.

I remember the incinerator fire. For some reason I was up when it all started, so I was one of the few nucs in uniform. Being an ELT I was too slow responding to be sent out on a fire team (not on purpose, I just wasn't paying attention). I thought this was fortunate until some chief throws me an OBA and sent me and another guy to all the aft berthings to be sure everybody got out OK. About the time my timer went off I was somewhere in the darkness of E-Div berthing with no way to get out fast. Anyone who has had to wear an OBA for real knows how bad that air is. I finally come out to a clear area and ripped off my mask, when what do I see? Wittkop in his made up uniform that was mentioned earlier. It took quite a while to stop laughing. I don't know if it was the bad air or the stress, but to this day I think that is one of the funniest things I ever saw.

When I have more time I will tell the reason why after the med, nubs would hear someone giving me grief and exclaim, "You're the guy that did that? They told us about you in alcohol awareness indoc!"

E. Hood
RL, 96-01

Fellow nuke types: 

Why is there not a single story here about Idaho? A1W was the prototype for the Enterprise. I read that 40,000 went through S1W, and must be a similar number for A1W and maybe half that for the other one there (S5G?). 

On site I remember the French fries with thousand island dressing. There were lots of hand drawn posters that had recently been taken down when I arrived up there. "Rickover Sayings" they were. I remember some mornings leaving S1W after mids, the wind had drifted mist from the spray pond over the road. We looked like infants just learning to talk as we staggered and fell. Also remember lots of face suckers and building alerts (like we were gonna have open windows in winter) because of temp. inversions. 

The plant was cool though. I was there for the 35 anniversary of criticality. Lots of the equipment was well designed, and still working well after 30+ years. Imagine SGs with no tube leaks after that many years of students doing water chem. My class had no officers (something I will write about later) so things were a bit more pleasant for us in-hull than some other classes.  Maybe I can't recall much besides the bus rides back and forth to the site, and my first experience with real winter driving. Bars? Not many of those in Idaho Falls. There was one with a wagon wheel over the door? Really can't even recall the name. Pocatello had the usually college town bars, augmented by drunk Indians from the reservation there. 

What did we all do on our 5 off between shift rotation? I remember some hunting, few attempts at skiing, but other than that I draw a blank? Were we all good little nuke nubbies that never got wild?

Someone please fill me in on what has faded from memory! 

Cruiser Ghost (8204 S1W-D) 

At least while I was onboard, no one did a better job of annoying airedales than a guy named AC Gates. When the mess decks were crowded you could send AC in first and have an empty table in no time. I remember one time we had spaghetti and there weren't 3 seats together; AC sat down at the one empty seat at a table, smiled at the grapes, and promptly dove face first into his tray. He came up with pasta falling off his face chewing away. Shortly the brown shoes found another table to eat at and we moved in.

M Link, Esq.

WOW.....I still have a headache from laughing so hard last night when I found this site. Anyway, I'm sure none of you guys remember me. My name is Patrick Sherwin and I worked in The Pig's Hydraulics shop (EA02) from 88-90.  Yes, an A-ganger has defiled your site. Speaking of defilement, Here's a story for ya. One of the weird things about the hydraulics shop is that even though we were in charge of the steering gears, we never stood steering gear watch; somehow the rest of A-gang got to do that. I always thought it was kinda weird, but it's not good to really wonder why you don't have more work than you do. The steering gear rooms had these horrible swamp cooler things that always smelled like mold. It drained into a little bilge that had a pump to discharge the water. What some bozo didn't know was that the pump in the bilge was designed for liquids, not solids. Apparently one of the watchstanders had to shit real bad and couldn't get a relief so he decided to shit in the bilge. To make it worse, the guy was huge....had to be at least 50% body fat (we actually had bets going as to what it really was, but nobody could ever come up with a verified true number). I don't know if this guy was the mad shitter, but he sure kept A-gang on it's toes so to speak. I was the DCPO for the hydraulics shop and found myself making rounds to all the steering gear rooms ensuring there was no solid waste in the bilge.

PS...for extra shits and giggles....break out your 89-90 World Cruise Book and look in A-Div and try to guess who was our shitter....(here's a hint...his rate was EN)

Hi!

Great page, so far. My roster listing should read:

Fudge, D.R.
RC, 4 plant, 1968-1970 
d.r.fudge@worldnet.att.net

Please list my e-mail address as follows:

Dan Boggs
RM2, 1975 -1979
danboggs5@netzero.net

Thanks!

I got lost in an ABC bar because I didn't realize the damn bar area rotated. I'm sure I wasn't the first or last. Two words to bring back a sure nightmare---"Galley Monster". She was also known as the Sea Hag or Galley hag. Had a face only a drunk sailor would love. You guys know who YOU are....... 

J.D.

Yeah, Cruiser Ghost hit a nerve tonight... I remember being harassed many times by mindless Chiefs at the brow. Pure idiots! I see people at work nowadays wearing socks with sandals. I don't know if it's fashionable now, or if I just happen to work with a bunch of dorks, but hey, it was definitely NOT COOL in the early 80s. But, you had to wear socks to get off the ship. Even in a bathing suit and flip-flops! You know about belts, and haircuts; too many ruined liberties to list...

There was one RO that we had who was delinquent in his grooming. He just wouldn't wash his hair! It got to be a joke around 4 plant, to the point that everyone talked about it. Old Maul_din just didn't like to wash it, I guess. One day I went on the midwatch, and one of our WOs, he was the short thin guy with red hair, actually logged in the PPWO log, under "Unusual Plant Conditions," that Maul_din washed his hair! I couldn't believe he put that in there. He was certainly NOT an academy grad...

Arrgh!

ps - KP, I don't feel so bad about puking because of that stupid ABC bar now that another squid fessed to it too! I think I was banished from the place. Oh well, it wasn't the only place I was invited not to return to...

This probably happened a lot.  In our NPS class was a guy so filthy that he was actually put on Mandatory Showers.  Our chief was required to watch him enter the shower and bathe once a week.  This guy was so offensive that his roommates even urinated on him while he slept.  (They came back to the BEQ drunk and figured he'd have to shower after that but he didn't!)  On the Big E we had a few guys who had problems understanding the concept of changing their sheets every once in a while.  They were usually prodded into doing so by a random act of "greasing" (i.e., someone smeared grease on their sheets).  

KP

Hey, "C-Note Summa" was my nub. He was on my watch team after we left the yardpac in 81. And yes he would start puking as soon as the last line was cast off the pier. He puked all the time we were at sea. As a matter of fact, he was always part of the Watch Officer briefing when the CRAO would take the watch. It always went like this: 

Officer: "Hey where's Summa????"
Me: "He's on the Flats." 
Officer: "Does he have his garbage can with him???" 
Me: "Yep!!!" 
Officer: "heheheheh!!!!" 
Me: "Ya, I know, I'll keep an eye on him!" 

DB

This is a no-shitter, but I can't recall if it was while I was TAD on a gator freighter waiting for nuke school, or on the Cruiser. [Any other nuke get the lovely fun of a few months TAD in the amphib fleet while waiting for nuke school? I ended up with about 3 months or so on USS Hermitage. Made a trip to Panama canal via New Orleans, spent a while (week or two?) anchored in Guatan lake, and a few days in Panama City. On way back, hit New Orleans day after Mardi Gras ... our skipper was too junior for us to get in for the party.]

Bit of info for the non-mechanics: Steam driven pumps rotate at high speeds, and have large oil supplies. Because some of this leaks into bilges, you are not supposed to pump bilges in port, unless they are certified oil-free.  Those containing oily water are pumped via a fire hose and portable pump into a barge tied up along side.

In early spring in Norfolk, we had some water in the bilge and a bit of oil, so we asked for a barge. This was something very routine. I ran the hose up and over the side, and climbed down to the barge and tied the hose in place.  Then I returned to the engine room, and turned on air to the pump. A day or so later the bilge was dry, and the barge was ready to go away. Procedure was for ships force to climb down (via rope and wood Jacob's ladder) and unhook the hose.

I had a nub standing UI watch that morning (around 10 am or so). We climbed down to the barge, and untied the hose. I climbed back up to the main deck, and pulled up the fire hose. There was a yell from below: MM3 Porky Nub was too fat to climb the ladder! The bottom step of the rope ladder was about 7 feet up. You just grabbed it, and pulled yourself up hand over hand until you could get a foot on the bottom rung. MM3 Porky could not hoist his poundage enough to ever get a foot on the ladder. 

Being a kindly sort of guy that I am/was, I laughed until I about shit myself. I tried to find a longer ladder from a boatswain's mate, but no luck. A knotted rope was available, but again he arms could not pull himself up. So the nub spent the rest of the morning (not more than a couple of hours) waiting for the yard tug to take the barge away. The barge captain (a chief) kindly let the nub ride the nose of the tug over to the pier before they took the barge away.

I can still remember the nub. Round chubby face, navy birth control glasses, squinting as he looked up side towards the main deck. 

Cruiser Ghost
(hard to believe when I look in mirror that I was once slim and fit enough so climbing was easy)

The office phone rings ...... crisis mode!  Seems the XO, or someone of equal stature, found a bunch of RE logs in the pier dumpster.  What the XO was doing in the dumpster is a topic none of us feel compelled to talk about just yet.  First of all we have to figure out what the hell RE logs were doing in the dumpster.  We send "Q" down there to check it out and he calls us to confirm that they were indeed RE logs--with that big red "Confidential" printed all over them.  After a few hours of sweat pump overload, it turned out that some idiot at the print shop threw them away.  He screwed up while printing them and was too lazy to burn-bag 'em.  He took the fall and we RE office guys skated through another crisis.  

KP  

KP, 

Please don't post my name or email address.  I'm currently on the Big E (RC-Div).  The other day I was at training and your site was mentioned.  An incident described there was referenced.  Also, last week someone was wearing a Mooj shirt and a rx dept. senior chief chewed him a new one.  I guess The Mooj isn't highly thought of in these parts.  Keep up the good work on the site.  Everyone looks at it and talks about it all the time.  Most of us wish things were even half as fun as they used to be.  Life sucks here now.

KP,

Having read all the stories of debauchery on this site I figured I would give you the best I have and can remember to some degree. This 'event' earned a place in the ships indoc as why drinking was a bad thing. Hopefully after this some more 90's types will come forward with the stories I know are out there.

Our longest port of call on the 98-99 Med was Livorno, Italy for a week. By the end of the week I had done everything I wanted to out of town and decided to do some drinking at a local bar with CJ Wittkop (aka Captain Morpholine) and a couple other guys. Some wine was consumed at a local restaurant and then we headed off to a bar we had found at the beginning of the week. Sometime after we got there I had had so much to drink that I believed that I was fluent in Italian. We dragged ourselves out of the bar at the very last minute so as to not be late back to the ship. I remember talking briefly to the ship's Catholic chaplain, laughing at someone puking in a flower pot (CJ?), and then next thing I know I am sitting in medical blowing in a breathalyzer under guard by a MAA!

I tried my best to figure out what I had done. I had vague recollections of a mop and having my ID taken in the MAA office, but nothing else was coming to me. I asked what I had done and the only response I got at first was a look like I was crazy. Finally the corpsman asked if I really didn't know and when I said no he just started laughing. I should add at this point that something called sailor phones was added to the ship. I don't know when, but I know that they really sucked when I got to the ship in 96. To use these sailor phones you had to have a special phone card which you could purchase from a machine that was located on the aft mess decks by what used to be the 1st class lounge and right above chiefs mess. Well, apparently this phone card machine did something I didn't like. My response was to piss all over the thing. Apparently I finished my business and started to walk off when I made a mistake. I heard a voice behind me say that I should mop up my mess and that seemed reasonable. I didn't have any clue what I was doing at this point so of course I get a mop and come back to find the MAA waiting. Now even though I had pissed all over the guy on the phone next to the machine I felt betrayed by this.

I was eventually released into the custody of my WCS who happened to be on duty. None of this had really sunk in until early the next morning when I had to get up and report to liberty risk muster. The last 3 months of the Med I was on liberty risk. To leave the ship I had to be escorted. I wasn't allowed to drink, and neither was my escort so I had to force nubs to take me to eat something off the ship. I also had to muster a couple times a day and be back on the ship by 7:00.

In the end I think I got off pretty light. I was embarrassed when I discovered the the investigating officer was the only female nuc on the ship. I ended up having to go to 2 weeks of alcohol treatment (the lowest level, I will never know why they believed me when I told them I typically drank only 3-4 beers a couple times a week). The ship started me on the mast chain, but I only went as far as DRB (the CMC and a bunch of other chiefs hassling you). The CMC 'awarded' me extra duty of 12 hours to be served after midnights helping filthy drunks like me back onto the ship. I never stood a minute of that. Considering I didn't really get in any trouble I don't know why my story was made part of ships indoc. When people would ask me about it I would gladly tell them how light I got off. Most people thought it was hilarious and I was held in high regard.

I do want to thank MMCS Brame. I am sure I would have gotten in a lot of trouble if not for him saving my butt. I don't know if he is still MTT, but if any one reads this and sees him say hello from Bobby!

E Hood
RL 96-01

Just going by E Hood's experience, I guess it's a good thing I never went through with my plan to urinate on the Big "E" as it passed beneath me from the Golden Gate bridge! If I remember correctly, I decided not to because there was a woman with some kids, from the ship I presume, up there with a banner for someone. Since I wasn't drunk (yet, at least), I decided not to embarrass the woman... not to mention what the squids on the flight deck would have thought of my gesture! Instead, I just waved goodbye, and took a great series of pictures which I never got to see. Thanks, Paul O'Shaughnessy, wherever you are!

Arrgh!!!! (I really didn't! Honest!!)

Hi! My name is [omitted], and I am seriously considering 'diving' into the navy nuke program. Luckily, I stumbled onto your site while doing a little research on it, and was wondering if there may be a time I could give you a call and ask a couple of questions about the program? Obviously my recruiter gives me ALL of the information he WANTS me to have, but I'm not 100% sure he gives me ALL of the information, know what I mean? I promise I won't take up much of your time, and I look forward to hearing back from you!

W. R.

There's only one way to know what it's like being a NucNub ... Just DO IT !!!

Of course I never wanted anything else.
It was predestined. Preordained. Couldn't have been any other way. I can't imagine NOT having been there. Wouldn't be me. And I wouldn't trade those experiences for anything in this world. It's part of who I am ... defines me ... just as all my experiences do.

So pick something to do, nuke or otherwise, and then just go for it and enjoy every second of it ... regardless of where it takes you. Never regret anything. It's LIFE man !!! Love it. All of it.

-Steamer-
Aspiring Recruiter

Here's what I'd tell the dear boy. It's roughly the same as what I told my son before he enlisted in '93 (He was a Nimitz non-nuke MM ); 

It's a good thing you decided to ask someone besides your recruiter. It shows your smarter than the average guy on the street. You are correct in assuming that the recruiter is not telling you everything. How can he? Even if he was a nuke himself, his job is to sell you on the navy not to scare you away from it.

This is the one of the most important decisions you'll make in your life. Going in with all the information possible is a good thing. An advantage that many of us before you did not have. 

Being a nuke is probably the hardest thing to become in the navy except for the SEAL teams. Yet it is one of the most rewarding experiences you will ever have.  (No pain...No gain). Even if you wash out part way through it you'll have a solid technical background in physics and mechanics that you'll be able to take anywhere to get a job on the outside.

The challenges you'll face are too numerous to list. You'll often wonder why you took this path. You'll hate every stinking minute of it but at the same time you'll cherish the friendships and bonds you make during your time in. It is like nothing else on earth. If you don't give it a try you'll never know if you could have done it. Good luck.

(If you take the time to read all the sea stories on this site you kind of get a feel for what it's like...but it's nowhere near what you'll experience on your own. As far as that million dollar education goes?...they'll shove it up your a** a nickel at a time!)

Tom L.

KP    

Hot Damn ......

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