Page 20 started August
Letters, Random Memories
and Assorted Sea Stories (Cont.)
Ike Stories From Mike .....
First of all, [King] Paul -- this site of yours is awesome. I was on the Eisenhower and don't know any of you guys, but I laugh my ass off
every time I read the sea stories. I wonder if Rickover ever imagined the characters that he would get in his program -- what is it
about nucs that they are able to think up some of this stuff?
I was on the Eisenhower from 1988 - 1991 and worked in RM02. The pig was already in the Med when I finished prototype so we
were flown over to meet it. We flew onboard in the COD -- quite an experience. There were a couple of guys puking in their white
hats before we landed.
So here I was; finally, I was on my ship. We got checked into RT and then taken down to berthing. After the cries of "NUB"
subsided, the next thing we heard was, "Hey, are you going to re-enlist? Don't do it! You'll be sorry." The mantra among the nucs
was "Ike Bites" or "IB". "IB" was written everywhere nucs worked or slept. We found out later that Ike did indeed, bite.
I'm not going to bore you guys with stories of drunken squids and decadent behavior-- we all know what nucs are capable of. There
are a couple of incidents that do come to mind, though. We were scheduled for liberty in Palma, Majorca -- an amazing place with
lots of bars, clubs, restaurants, beaches and beautiful women. Anyhow, the day that we are pulling into the harbor, a Greenpeace
ship tried to cut us off. Apparently, since we were a nuclear ship, they didn't want us there. They cut across us a couple of times
but nothing came of it. We are anchored in the harbor and all of a sudden, a couple of
Greenpeace zodiac boats show up with a bunch of protestors. They have this brilliant idea that they are going to climb up the anchor chain and spray paint
graffiti on the side of the ship. These guys got about halfway up the anchor chain before the marines blasted them off with a high pressure water hose.
From that point on, when "Operation Waterfall" was called -- everyone ran up to the flight deck hoping to see some activists get
The other thing that I will never forget is the day we pulled into Norfolk following the 1988 Med cruise. We had just spent 6 months
cruising around the Med with no accidents or problems and everyone was excited to get home
to their loved ones. We were in the harbor and heading for our pier -- we had a little ways to go and then we would turn and head into the pier. We were manning
the rails, and as we started to make our turn, Ike was still moving to the left. There was a ship at anchor and we are all looking at it
and thinking, "I don't think we are going to make it..." All of a sudden,
the guys from the port side of the ship start running towards the starboard side. We then heard this loud noise like metal on metal and our ship stops suddenly -- the guys in the plant said they
thought we ran aground. What happened was, the left side of Ike drifted into the bow of the ship at anchor -- this opened up the
side of our ship like a tin can. (The hole was up near the flight deck so no danger of taking on water." This all happens within sight
of our pier and with all of the friends and families watching. It was unbelievable -- I think it was about 2 million dollars in damage.
Our Commanding Officer was gone the next day never to be heard from again.
Ken Monson Comes Aboard ....
|An RE that came
on in '89? I don't remember ya. Maybe I flew off
before you came down to RE from RT. I'll check the
89/90 cruise book to see if your photo sparks a memory.....
The truth is when I was short I was hardly anywhere to be
Jim Burson Comes Aboard ....
Please add me to the roster. Jim Burson, EM3 then EM2, RE Division, 4 Plant, 1967 to 1970.
I'm still a nuke - Operations Instructor/SRO at Seabrook Station in NH.
|I think you're
our earliest RE! I hope you send in some
To' Ike' Mike:
Hey, Mike, who are you? I'm Joe Brown. I was in RE Div on Ike from '86 to
'90. My best buddy in RM was Don Launder, who was also my best friend in
high school in Va Beach. I remember much about 'talkin' the IB.' James B
Funk coined that term. I remember the Greenpeace fracas in Palma in '88.
They even had billboards (written in Spanish) declaring that
"today there are nuclear ships in Palma." I remember twice on that cruise stopping in
Cannes, France. That was probably my favorite. Not only were there
topless beaches, but even from the ship, you could sometimes catch a small
boat of topless women venturing out for a closer look at the ship. Even at
Palma, you could go over to Magaluf and find topless beaches. I remember
the collision at the end of the cruise. BTW, if anyone is curious, the
following URL describes the whole thing... Link.
I recall they used to use the collision alarm as a prelude to general
announcements. I always wondered why they did this. It seemed a lot like
crying wolf. Right before the collision I was down in Rx berthing (3rd
deck way aft--~ frame 225) and heard a rumbling, which I figured was the
screws reversing at the same time as the collision alarm sounded. So I had
a clue that it was the real thing. Then they called 'GQ' and everybody
wondered if they would go home that day. But it was wrapped up quickly
enough. Poor Capt Gary L Beck was a pretty nice guy, but of course he got
fired. I heard he went to the University of Wisconsin to be an ROTC
instructor. James B Funk, the renowned talker of the 'IB', came up with a
rhyme in honor of the occasion (James B, if you're out there, I hope you
don't mind)...Initials and Acronyms, the Navy thinks they're swell, Take
our old CO, whose first two were 'GL,' He drove our CVN, and in ASAP, took
us to real GQ, Now GL is talkin' the IB.
The Topless Beaches of France...
Since Joe went there I will, too. Yes, I remember Toulon
France (or was it Nice?). It was one of two med ports we hit
during the '86 Westpac. Us Americans weren't used to seeing
topless gals all over the beaches so most of us thought it pretty
novel. It was actually a pathetic site: squids with
cameras wandering up and down the beach taking snaps of all the
annoyed girls. The French thought we were idiots. One
day during that port visit Dicko, Guido, Hutch (Nitro) and I were
sitting seaside enjoying the French Riviera sunshine. The beach below us was
awash in topless gals. The initial thrill of seeing multitudes
of topless women was soon gone and our attention was now focused on
our cold beers. But then we spotted "Biff"
Shiver on the prowl. He was wandering the sands in search of
good looking babes. We watched as he wandered too and fro with
his towel in hand and then saw him zero in for the kill. He
was smooth--no doubt about it. The girls he placed his towel
beside didn't seem too annoyed when he sat down and began talking to
them. This was too good to pass up so the four of us stood on
our chairs and did everything we could to get the girl's
attention--no easy task since they were about 30 or 40 yards
away. When one finally saw us frantically waiving at her we
started making motions like "that man is crazy" and
pointed to Biff, who was oblivious to what was going on. Now
we had both girl's attention. Our hand signals were now random
and meaningless but whatever we were trying to tell these poor girls
had to do with Biff. Finally the girls pointed at us and told
Biff that we were trying to tell them something about him. We
ducked out of sight and vacated the scene leaving the girls and Biff
Several topless beach photos actually made it into the cruise
book. The wives club got pretty miffed and from what I
understand it was never done again. (Well, so they
Okay, one last item and then I'll go away. It's one of
those one memory sparks another kind of things. Open your '86
cruise book to page 42. On that page (Hawaii) is a photo of a
scantily clad gal (she's in a thong bikini). The Big E cruise
book photog was obviously scouting the beach looking for good
looking babes that day. After we returned to Alameda my
Brother-in-law allowed his younger brother to take the book into
work. Many of his co-workers were ex-navy guys and loved
looking over cruise books. One page 42 one of the guys noticed
his daughter (who had been in Hawaii that summer). She was the
one in the thong bikini! She actually appears in a few other
spots as well. He was furious! Well, what can ya
do? Luckily she wasn't in France when we were there or he
might have really been steamed!
What Rickover Hath Wrought ....
"Mike from Ike" mentioned that he wondered if Rickover ever imagined the characters that would get in his program. Hell, I think it
was Rickovers' program that CREATED most of these characters. How else can you explain so many wild and crazy guys in one
place at the same time. I never saw anything like it before or since. How did this happen? I think Rickover accidentally hit on a
1) From all over the country, take people of above average intelligence who are none the less willing to join the Navy, probably
looking for adventure.
2) Trick or entice them into signing up for the Nuclear Power Program.
3) Put them through a rigorous training program that is intentionally designed to weed out a large portion of the people who start it.
4) Keep telling those remaining that they are the "upper 10% of the
5) Give them a big sense of accomplishment when they qualify Prototype.
6) Send them to a ship and put them in a berthing compartment full of people who have been treated like shit.
7) Now, and only now, start treating the new guys like they're total idiots.
8) After all that training, give them a paint chipper and a paint brush and tell them to "Turn
9) Frequently send them out to sea to cut them off from "normal
10) Periodically drop them off in exotic locations where the only people they know are each other. Give them "duty" every third day,
just to remind them who's still in charge.
11) Make sure they are "First on and last off."
12) Make them work long hours, so that if they figure out their hourly wage, they will find that it's lower than a
13) And make damned sure to home port their ship in an area that is un-friendly to sailors.
Presto, you have a bunch of crazies. How could it fail? Their training and above average intelligence are sure to add a certain flair and
creativity to their antics. Their shared experiences are almost guaranteed to make them a close knit bunch so their idiosyncrasies
feed off of one another.
I think this works best on a large vessel like a carrier where the sheer number of nukes makes it more likely to achieve "Critical
Mass." No doubt cliques will form along the lines of rating, work location, time on board etc, but there's still a strong common
Funny thing is that in spite of all this most of these guys turn out to be damn good operators. In a large portion of cases the guys
who play hardest away from the ship are some of the best watch standers when on the ship. (There are always exceptions of
I've always assumed that the nukes of the mid 1970s era were unique. (Hey, we were.) But I'm starting to realize that the guys of
every era probably feel that they were the unique ones. (Hey, they were too.) Truth probably is that all eras were unique but share a
strong commonality as this website demonstrates so well.
A Portion of Andy Astleford's Letter to
Went out to see Bowman and Tim "doc" Boyd for their pig roast. Mark
"Chicken Hawk" Stohl drove out from Wisconsin. Shackett was to come by,
but had a something come up. It was a great time. Saturday night a
NUB (end of the world cruise) came by and said that I threw him up on top of
the switchgear. Ram, I have been out of the NAV 13 years and I feel rotten
that the ONLY memory that he has of me is that I threw him on top of the
switchgear. lol He is a 1st class now on some carrier.....
It was great to hear from Andy and I sure wish I could have made it
to Bowman's Pig Roast. Had I still been living in Baltimore I
would have surely been there!
Monte Hyler Comes Aboard ....
I served in M Division, #3 Plant from August 1970 until May of 1974.
Great to find this site! Keep up the good work!
Hey, what say we get some stories about favorite (or not so favorite)
maintenance tasks that we undertook during our Navy days? I was an EM
aboard Ike, as I've stated before on this site. One of our peskiest
recurring problems was sparking on the commutators of the amplidynes, which
served as rod drive power supplies. I'm sure these have since been replaced by solid-state components. I had a design concept I drew up for
that back in 1988 which I showed to a certain rather dorky LCDR, but he
wouldn't give me the time of day. The RE Div Sr Chief (or 'anchor with
star', as we used to call him) liked it. I thought it was pretty good.
Anyway, the fumes from the F-14's would eat away the protective oxide layer
on the copper and lead to 'arcing and sparking.' We spent quite a few days
at sea with a group of rods on the spare rod drive while we took an amplidyne out for stoning of the commutator. That wasn't the worst part.
After you stoned off enough copper it would become necessary to undercut
the mica. This was much fun indeed. Replacing vent fan motors was always
fun. Some of those were real bears to get to. Once we had to replace a
rod drive motor while at sea. The ship was furnished at construction with
special rigging tools for performing this job. These were stored all the
way aft in some forsaken compartment below the fantail (I admit it's kind
of fun using some of these terms again--hee hee). Of course the alignment
was all done with dial indicators. Later when I worked at a coal-burning
power plant I learned to use a digital alignment tool which I felt was a
bit more accurate--not because of a digital readout but because it used a
prism and mirror to 'see' the shaft as opposed to a mechanical finger
resting on the shaft. Shortly before I flew off to get out of the Nav in
1990 during a Med cruise we had a plane getting ready to launch that
decided to dump all of its chaff. This apparently came right into the
plant ventilation duct which discharged onto Load Center 42 (4th deck 1
plant port side). This resulted in a great production of acrid yellow
smoke which quickly went about filling the Rx Room. We ended up disassembling all the 450 volt bus work and cleaning it. We then
reassembled the busses and applied a new coating of melamine. Okay, that's
what I've got. Who's next??
|I thought the
amplidyne was strictly a Big E gadget. It was such a ridiculous
use of simple ingenuity that it seemed right at home on the
floating prototype known as the Enterprise. Somewhere
on this site is a scan of my "pocket brain" (i.e.,
those little green notebooks we carried around in our back
pockets) of the CTG control circuit. It shows the
amplidyne with its shorted together brushes and pilot
generator. It was the first thing you were asked to
draw for your RE board. If you guys had
one on the Ike I guess they weren't that novel after all.
I tried to explain how the thing worked to one of my
electrical engineering professors once (after I quit the
navy) and the guy thought I was nuts--he said it would never
work. Well, he was wrong, wasn't he?
To be honest we didn't
have much trouble with our CTG commutators as far as I can
recall. They always had that
But I do recall the EE30
guys having quite a time keeping the SSTGs from sparking and
arcing. Rob, do you remember this? I think 8
SSTG was the worst; they were always having to work on it. I recall going down there to watch them
since I wanted to know what real electricians did for a
From the Paul Kagal Collection:
Thought you might like these things I collected during the years on the E and after I let go of the hate I had for my time there.
Amplidynes and commutators and such ....
KP, I don't know why your professor would have heartburn with the Amplidyne
concept. It's rather ingenious but not too bizarre a design really.
Basically, you're using armature windings to serve as field windings. Of
course you still have to have field windings in the stator, but by also
making use of the (otherwise idle) armature windings the machine packs more
punch for a given size and weight. And since the armature windings that
are being used for control are in series with the ones generating potential
it makes the control more responsive. I would imagine these machines are
largely obsolete today. Even back in the '80's on Ike we had solid-state
technology in our TG voltage regulators which in theory could replace the
amplidyne once somebody built an SCR that could handle a lot of power.
These voltage regulators had SCR's configured as 3 phase bridge rectifiers
that used a line-synchronized firing signal to gate the SCR's at precise
points on the electrical sine wave and thereby control how much power was
transferred to the generator field and thus control generator terminal
voltage. Later when I worked at a coal-burning plant I found this same
technology being used on two 120 MW generators. These were big SCR's of
course. Regarding sparking on CTG's or SSTG's, are you talking about
commutators there or collector rings? We did not have any commutators on
Ike's TG's, but we did have collector rings, and we had a few problems with
sparking. This was usually attributed to excessive runout. I remember
stoning one on one of the CTG's and taking readings with dial indicators to
measure TIR (total indicated runout).
This is a bit too technical for me so early in the
morning. I'm trying desperately to void my mind of all
applied engineering and scientific knowledge now that I'm a
simple plant food manufacturer. Actually, I'm
kidding. All that training and electrical schooling has embedded
my mind with too much good sense. Although I fear that
I am seriously outdated as an electrical engineer, being as
we were still studying pnp and npn transistor theory in my
day. I doubt today's EEs even know what they are.
JFETs and MOSFETs were the up and coming thing.
P.S., Joe, how come you
aren't a contributor on the Critical Thinking site yet?
Some More Insider Stuff .....
Alright here I am yet again to tell you what today's Enterprise is like. Today's nukes are no longer hard working and hard
playing guys (and girls.) For the most part they are whining, bitching little maggots more concerned about what's in it for them.
They would rather spend 8 hours bitching about things then spend 30 minutes to do it. The number of people that will stay late
and help out others when needed are becoming scarce. I know in RE now there are about 8 people that will bust their ass no
questions asked...8 out of 43. Most of those people are the senior guys who are leaving soon. The other factor complicating
things is the fact that chiefs and officers have stopped sticking up for their people. they will promise things like liberty after a
certain thing has been completed (like finish all training, and spaces cleaned) then hold everyone until 1400 or 1600 "just in
case." We are so tired be sitting around beating our dicks waiting for someone to decide we can go home it's insane. Long
gone are the days of beating the flag...that is a myth...a rumor...a legend as it sits now. RE remains the top division and
receives the least for their performance. Every division gets a day after duty except us, but when questioned about it our chain of
command says that we have to work harder then everyone else to maintain our level of excellence. Sounds to me like people
are too scared to stick up and say, "my shit is done, and my guys are going home."
Women too have complicated things..special liberty, and other things like that are fucked up by people being
hyper-sensitive because they are worried that a woman will scream harassment, rape or something else...so they get a "more then fair" shake.
The navy I heard about (men who work hard, and play hard) has been relegated to a sea story. Today's reactor department is
more of a "touchy-feely I'm sorry you are on DINQ hours, NUB hugger department more closely resembling some guidance
counselor's wet dream" then a branch of the military.
The last problem with nukes these days are the fact that the pipeline has no filters anymore. It is one straight pipe pushed by 3
pumps. I've heard stories of guys getting booted for being 10 minutes late, we have people who are 3 subject failures, failed
their academic board and are STILL nukes in the fleet. We have people who curl up into a ball and throw a temper tantrum
when they are told to go stand U/I's on their duty day when they are unqualified. We have people who talk to their colored
pencils making it all the way to prototype before someone questions their mental stability. Am I the only one that sees a
problem with this? Aren't nukes supposed to be the best and brightest? The most dedicated and most ass raped group of
pissed off jaded professionals in the Navy? Things have changed and I hate to say it, but it scares the piss out of me to have to
trust my life to some of these imbeciles. D____y, or whatever we are calling him, has seen this, and we have talked about it. I
can't wait to get away from this just for my own safety.
|Cruise Books for those which are without!
Wow!! I just found this web site while searching for a cruise book from my era on the Big "E". For a reasonable price, these
folks will make either an electronic (pdf or html) copy for you, or the good old fashioned photocopy variety. Now, all I need is
someone to lend me a cruise book from the 82-83 cruise, and I'll be all set! For anyone interested, looks like the price is
reasonable, about $50, less if you get some guys together and order a bulk quantity of them. Check out the site yourself.
If anyone out there has a cruise book from the 82-83 cruise, and will consider letting me borrow it (or have it sent to these
folks for copying) I would be greatly indebted to you! Sadly (for me) I allowed my anger and hatred of the Navy to cloud the
good sense to purchase my own, and now I can't get one. It's like one of the few the Navy doesn't have copies of for sale still.
Arrgh! RC-14 former bad attitude now regretting it during a
nostalgic moment type
Goodbye Connie ......
... Another great carrier sent to scrap heap of
history! Here's to
a great ship and all the men who sailed on her!
The Saga of John Pearson .....
I was going through the RE04 Dopeybook archives. That's some good stuff.
On Ike we called them Bitch Books. Anyway, here is an excerpted portion
from a page titled 'Kid Pillow photo session'.
The implication is clearly that this John Pearson fellow is gay. Well,
guess what? I was Jonathan Pearson's roommate in class 8503 @ Orlando. I
used to hang out with him and his girlfriend Tonya, who was a local girl
who had an apartment up by Interstate Mall where 436 crossed I-4. John and
I drove to prototype together. I went to MARF, and he went to S3G I think?
Anyway, we drove up to Saratoga together and got an apartment and then
about a month into prototype his girlfriend Tonya joined us. It was a
2-bedroom place, so I had one room and John shared the other with Tonya.
This was right at the end of the summer of '85. By about Christmas John
and Tonya were not getting along anymore. The details are fuzzy, but I
seem to recall some guy (I think he was a squid also--not sure) coming
around who seemed a little effeminate. I think Tonya may have come out and
told me that she had figured out that John was gay. I don't know. He
never told me directly, and it's a good thing because I was already creeped
out enough. I am certainly not gay, and I would not have chosen to live
with someone who was. I remember Jonathan (or John or whatever he went by)
went to the Enterprise. I was wondering what you remember about it. He
was an EM so he would have been in one of the electrical divisions. He
would have gotten to the ship about March of '86. I figure he probably
tried to stay in the closet and people just began to suspect something. I
feel sorry for the guys in there now with Clinton's 'don't ask don't tell'.
I remember back on Ike we used to live on the 3rd deck way aft. We had to
go up to the 2nd deck to get to the nearest shower. There was this guy
from RM Div who every night would strip naked and throw his towel over his
shoulder and walk up to the shower carrying his 'ditty bag'. Wouldn't
bother to take that towel and cover himself up. That used to piss me off.
By the way, I see in the cartoon that the artist is drawing John as a
neatly-coiffed fellow. I remember that. He always had to have his hair
looking just so. But like I said he had a girlfriend back then, so I
didn't suspect anything. So just wondering if you or anybody out there can
tell me anything. I guess I'm looking for what today's psycho-babblers
would call 'closure' re: that chapter in my life where I inadvertently
roomed with a guy who may have been gay. Thanks.
Hmm. John Pearson ... wasn't he that guy who got
busted doing naughty things to his sleeping
roommates? I'm Kidding! Can I just say
one thing about John Pearson: I thought he was a great guy
and one of the
funniest people I met on the Big E. He was a latter day nub (meaning he showed up
a little after me) during the '86
cruise. His rack was right above mine in old RE
berthing and we were always joking around about stuff.
He was also in my paint scraping crew in the dry dock.
To tell you the truth I
don't know [or care] if John was gay. I was as surprised as
anyone when he vanished from the crew. Since he was schooled in the Don Foster
school of scamitry (in the dry dock) he, like many others, paid a visit to the
chaplain to profess his gayness when morale hit rock bottom
during the '87 workups. This happened right
about the same time as Goldylocks Fuller's out of the closet
Now, as far as I know John wasn't gay. He was
a known "lady's man." But, then again, who really knows? Few guys were getting away with the gay scam at
the time so maybe he really was gay. John was also a
body builder. His rack was littered with photos of
muscle men. Hey, wait a minute ....
The sad thing about the
dopeybook cartoon is I know John would have thought it
funny. He was gone by the time it was penned and so he
never saw it. He was but a minor character in it
anyway. The gist of the slam was directed at Kid
Pillow, who (as the cartoon goes) is tired of making chump
change as a male model so he decides to try his hand at gay
porno. JP just so happens to be on the set that day
for co-star duty.
FYI: John wanted to be a model,
too. The navy was standing in the way of his budding
career I guess so that's why he pulled the gay scam.
Believe it or not he had marginal success since a few years after
his navy discharge he was spotted on the cover of Muscle Magazine.
Chief Goat ......
A recent entry from Willy brought up the name of someone whom I greatly respected and regretfully haven't thought about for much
too long. This would be Chief Gautier, otherwise known as Chief Goat. Goat was the 1MMR Chief for about two and a half of my 4
years. Goat was an absolutely great Chief. He treated us as equals and kept us sheltered from as much of the Mickey Mouse BS
as possible. In return we gave him our respect, loyalty, and absolutely busted ass for
him whenever it was required. (And it was required more than one might think.) When ashore, Goat was certainly someone you wanted on your side in in a good bar fight.
Goat owned a 1960s vintage Harley Sportster, which he doted on as only true Harley guys do.
To set the story up, I need to give a brief explanation of STFO. Shortly before the '78 Westpac a new retort spread around M - Div
like wild fire. I believe it originated in the AMRs. That retort was "Suck the f--k
out." I know that this doesn't make grammatical sense, but few at the time seemed to care. Seemed like nobody could say ANYTHING to an M - Div guy without getting a "Suck
the F--k out" in quick response.
About a month into the STFO craze, we were in port in Alameda and we got word that a guy from Naval Reactors was going to pay a
visit to the "E" to look over some stuff in 3 plant. Goat came down to 1MMR and told Kennicott and myself to be on our best
behavior next Thursday when the NR guy was on board because (and I quote) "Rickover thinks about this guy the way I think about
my bike." Kennicott and I knew instantly that this was some kind of serious!
So, anyhow, the following Tuesday Chief Goat is standing what I believe was known as Shutdown PPWO in 1 EOS. (Being an M -Div nuke I wasn't really up on this lingo.) Ens. H was in 4 EOS and gave Goat an order over the 12MC to do something or other.
Ens. H had been to the dentist earlier in the day and wasn't enunciating clearly. Nobody in 1 EOS understood what he had said. Goat
replied, "4 - 1 Say again." Ens.H repeated the order. Once again Goat and the others in 1 EOS couldn't understand the order and
Goat had to ask for another repeat. After Goat had gone through this one too many times, he lost patience and said, "4 -1 Suck the
F--k out." Turns out the Naval Reactors guy had come a couple of days early and was in 4 EOS standing next to Ens. H when this
exchange occurred. Goat was relieved on the spot. He went down to 1MMR where Kennicott was standing Cold Iron Watch. He put
his arm around Kennicott's shoulder and said, "I think I just kicked the spokes on Rickover's bike." Goat had to go to Captains mast
and they made the rest of his time on the boat miserable. As for the rest of us, for at least a month all nukes had to stay an hour
after the regular workday for "extra instruction" in proper communication and following procedures.
Somehow Willy, Larry Z and I ran into Goat and an EM Chief during our last 2 days in Angeles City while waiting for our flight
stateside. Goat was a happily married man returning to the States, so he didn't partake in the more seamy offerings of "Slurp
City," but he did party hearty with us. We were big into mooning for some reason and would periodically run out on McArthur Highway and
moon the passing jeepneys. Goat joined us in this on at least one occasion. Goat was an "old school" Machinists Mate and had
twin screws tattooed on his ass. One on each cheek. One of the bar girls had seen this from the doorway of Knobbing Nora's, and
when we got back in the bar the girls gathered around Goat asking why he had "lectric pans" tattooed on his ass. Goat tried to
explain, but the girls just didn't understand ships screws. They DID understand electric fans as they were essential in the
P.I. climate. Goat made up a story about why he had electric fans tattooed on his ass and this seemed to satisfy them.
Goat went on to the USS California and I heard that the repercussions of the STFO incident followed him for the rest of his career.
Too bad. Goat was one of those guys that knew how to get the most out of his men. GoatÖ If our paths ever cross again I owe you
more than a couple of cold ones.
Mike Hinkley Comes Aboard .....
I served in EM22 from 2000 to 2003.
Didn't Ask .... Didn't Tell ....
Back when this whole "don't ask don't
tell" thing was introduced I remember thinking it was such a
farce since the only guys that got kicked out of the navy for being
gay were the guys pretending to be gay. If someone really was
gay no one cared as long as he did his job and relieved the watch on
time. No one was overtly
gay in my time but we all knew (or suspected anyway) who was
gay. I'll never forget RE div's most notorious suspected gay guy, who
was a great pal of mine. One day he was down the office
all gung-ho about something and said that he was going to get the
ball bouncing. As was customary when such an opportunity arose
someone in the office replied, "[name withheld], the only
balls bouncing around here are the balls bouncing off your
chin...." The whole office erupted in laughter and the
poor guy's face turned red. No one cared but then again no
one's feelings were ever spared either.
More on the Gay issue ....
I read the story sent in by Joe B. about his roommate John Pearson ďpossiblyĒ being gay. I really canít
believe someone would need closure because they roomed with a gay person. When I was in prototype
there were 4 of us rooming together, we thought one guy might be gay
but none of us could care less. Unless John was pulling on Joeís ears, what possible difference could it
make? I have known gay people both in the military and in the real world. They are all just people to me! I didnít
Know there were any Archie Bunker types still out there but I was wrong.
Joe B. might seek professional help if it still bothers him after all these years. I donít usually comment about
what others write but this one I had to.
|Joe B Responds ....
The Archie Bunker comment hurts. Look, I was joking about 'needing
closure.' I does not bother me that I may have lived with a gay man years
ago. I saw that cartoon and I was reminded how his girlfriend told me
years ago that she thought he might be gay. So it was a good excuse to
send a comment to KP's site. I was mostly curious if he had shown himself
to be so while on the 'Big E' and if so to what extent. I must say though
that I have reservations about the military openly accepting gays. I think
that's the message they sent with 'Don't Ask--Don't Tell.' I think there
is the potential to undermine 'good morale and discipline.' But then
again I think there's evidence that having the women on board has caused a
bit of that, too. But, hey, it's cool. I wish John the best. He was a
funny guy. He was a good friend. I would not have chosen to room with him
if he wasn't. Yeah, I was a little 'creeped out' when his girlfriend told
me that, but that was a long time ago. The only thing I heard from John
after prototype was when he sent me a picture of one of the steel beach
picnics. I seem to recall there was an above-ground style swimming pool
set up on the flight deck and people had bicycles out. I thought that was
pretty cool. We never had one like that on Ike. Anyway, my
thoughts when I heard from John were that I wished him well. I didn't give the gay thing
more than a passing thought.
Steamer Weighs In .....
Right on R.H. Who cares? And thanks for having the nads to post it.
Good on ya. I've wanted to say something myself but didn't know if KP
wanted to go there on this site. (BTW ... any topic is welcome at Critical
Thinking ... as it is set up to actually be a discussion group.)
Gay, female, geek, Punjab, short, red-headed, bald, born in California ...
all of the above ... who cares? They do their job ... I have no problem.
Why would I? You all do know what homophobia is don't you? It doesn't
mean you are afraid of gays. It does mean you are afraid of being thought
to be gay by others. By your friends or coworkers or family. That IS the
definition. And the result is behavior that is meant to derail those suspicions ...
gay-bashing, jokes, not associating with gays, being as vocal as possible
as often as possible ... just so everyone KNOWS you are not gay. IMO ...
this behavior is usually exhibited by those who are insecure about their
own sexuality. I mean, if you KNOW you are not gay and are secure in
that knowledge ... there is no reason to have to prove it. Maybe they are
just angry at those who secretly turn them on. ;) Me thinks folks like Joe
doth protest too loudly. That makes me wonder. ;)
who doesn't give a flyin' f**k what anyone thinks
|Actually I knew
Joe was joking. I guess Joe has a way of stirring the
pot when he doesn't intend to ;)
As far as the KP site goes I think I will limit
discussion of this topic since this site is basically only a
collection of maritime memories. The Critical
Thinking Site is far better suited to talk about issues like
this (or women in the navy, etc.) because it is
More Cruise Book Info ....
This is the response I got from the guy that runs the web site for reproducing cruise books. I'm thinking that you may want to
consider linking to his site. Myself, I may just buy a scanner and get to work on my buddy John's cruise book, which he has
graciously offered to let me borrow.
Jim "Arrgh!" Schibetta
Jim Roper <Jim@heritagearchives.com> wrote:
Date: Fri, 15 Aug 2003 12:36:37 -0700
Subject: Re: Information request
From: Jim Roper
To: Jim n Lynn Schibetta
A single copy of a cruise book is too pricey for most people. Rather than giving you a price let me summarize the process:
Processing a single CV volume (usually 300-400 pages) is an investment of nearly 100 man-hours of intensive work.
The process involves scanning every page at 300 dpi resolution. Separating the digital pages having images
and text, text only, and images only. Doing basic image correction on some images.
Then we process all pages having text (or text with images) with optical character recognition software. This is
a tedious and exacting procedure - truly automated OCR software (read: automation that is truly automated) is so expensive it remains out of reach of all but the larger corporations.
Then we process all pages with Adobe Acrobat and finish the initial stages by compiling and indexing the pages.
The final stages are: Programming auto-run software to run the CD. Burning CDs. Creating and printing CD label and case graphics.
Even costing it at minimum wage (not including overhead costs) you can see that a "ONE-OFF" PDF e-Book
copy of a cruise book is pretty much out of the question for most people.
Now, given what I have just outlined, are you still interested?
FYI: Of the three cruise-books I have available on my website, I haven't recouped even one tenth of my investment. But of course, these projects have been as much a labor of love as anything.
Its just those nagging bills and my big appetite (and a loving wife of 35 years) that forces me to create income!
Thanks for the inquiry!
A Word to
all you Current Big E Tars:
Hey fellows, I can't
stress enough how important it is for you to buy cruise
books when they are available. You may think you'll
never want to look at it but believe me, when you're old and
gray, you'll rue that decision. Nostalgia has a way of
sneaking up on you!
Kid Pillow Wakes Up ......
Hey King Paul,
Interesting dialogue about Pearson. I know he wanted to be a model/body builder and really
obsessed over his body. I was interested in getting into commercial acting so I took some classes, but soon that idea faded away. Thus my intro into the dopey book as a
male model, pretty funny. By the way who penned that cartoon, was it The Wad?? I remember hanging out with Pearson a
little. I think he introduced me to a photographer so I could get a head shot. I think he lived in Fremont and didn't he know the Wad since he was
from Fremont also?? Pearson was a nice guy, but was a little strange so after his confession to the chaplain of his gayness, then it
always left questions in my mind if he was or wasn't.
But the guy who was a major Flame was B__e.
He was this huge guy who had this voice like a 5 year old. I remember one
time I just got out of the shower in the head that was located at the aft of the RX berthing, and I was shaving so I took my towel off to
wipe my face so I am standing there in the raw, and I looked down the hall to the small lounge on the port side (where all the D&D
guys used to hang) and there B__e is, staring at me with a big gay smile on his face. I was so pissed I immediately put my towel
around me and yelled down the hall, "B__e you fag, if you ever look at me again I will _ _ _ _
you." Everyone in the lounge just looked at B__e. My thoughts are if you'
re gay, just shut up and do your job and you will get along. B__e just crossed the line by
being overtly gay and making everyone uncomfortable. If I remember right he didn't last long on the ship.
|I forgot that
Pearson and Hemswad were pals from way back. No, it
wasn't the Wad who penned the Kid Pillow Photo Shoot cartoon
it was me. I spent many days thinking about how I was
going to slam you, which wasn't easy. And then I heard
about you getting some headshots and the idea just popped
into my head.
My favorite guy to slam on
in cartoons was Goldylocks Fuller. Sometimes I couldn't wait to
relieve the watch so I could scribble down whatever idea I
had burning in my head. Goldylock's was so vain that
he loved any cartoon about him (even when they were vicious)
and often snuck the dopeybook into the rx admin office to make
copies of them whenever he could. My favorite cartoon
of them all was the one you did with Chief Whitsett going to
get an X-ray and they find MTW's head stuck up his
butt. Whitsett saw it a few days later and nearly
laughed himself to death. I caught him reading the
dopeybook more times than he caught me!
I do recall B__e. He
was a decent fellow but I knew little about him. He
was probably the most overtly gay person on the ship
(especially since his nickname was Anal B__e).
Navy Nuke, Thomas Edison State College BSAST
I just finished my BSAST Nuc Eng with Thomas Edison State College. For all you nukes who don't know, TESC awards 81
semester credit hours for the completion of nuke school. One of the more difficult courses to complete, especially if you have been
out for a while, is the prior learning assessment of Nuclear Instrumentation and Controls
Fundamentals. I just finished this portfolio and can send it as a guide to anyone who is planning to pursue this degree.
All in all, along with 3 cleps, it took me less that a year to finish my degree. Some might say is a useless degree, but most
colleges will accept it to get into a graduate program, and I am using it to go back and teach NNPS as a direct input officer. I didn't
think I would go back in, but an O-1E with 8 years doesn't pay too bad, and I know enough to avoid sea duty.
That is all, figured it would have saved me a lot of research time if I had an example paper to follow, so I will try to help anyone
else that wants it. Just email me.
I Can't Resist ....
I can't help but add a little ditty about our old
pal Goldylock's Fuller and a "gay" nuke. (I
know, I know but it's a funny story .... I promise!) When we
were roommates in the Hunter's Point BEQ, Goldylocks was always
coming back to the room half drunk and full of crap. He just
had to wake us up and tell us about his night. How he went to
"such and such" place with "so and so" and they
met these girls and they did "this" and they did
"that" and then he got laid because he was this huge stud
and so on and so forth. Then one night Goldylocks came in
and was quiet. There was no gloating about how many girls he bagged
and shagged that night. Obviously something was amiss
and it piqued our curiosity since he refused to talk about it.
The next day I finally got him to open up a bit and he admitted that
he went out "steaming" with an RC-Div fellow, whom many of
us suspected as being gay. Goldylock's, however, didn't know
this. This person took Goldylocks to a bar in SF's
Polk Street District and Goldylock's didn't realize in time what
kind of bar it was (think Blue Oyster in the movie Police
Goldylock's told me that he barely got out of the place with his
manly chastity intact.
More Ike Stories ....
My wife was asking about what it was like to be in the Navy in a foreign port. As I was thinking to myself, "What can I tell her?" I
started thinking about some of the guys I hung out with, drank with, and worked with.
I had this good friend, Sean Bourgeois, who was a pretty easy going guy most of the time but if he didn't like you, he would let you
know. We had pulled into Cannes and a few of us RM div. guys were out having a few drinks. We are sitting at this little cafe and
were joined by a few ELT's that we hung out with. Things were cool, except they had this one guy with them we called "Gus." He
was about 5'2" tall and looked like an Oompa Lumpa. Well, Bourgeois didn't like him and gave Gus a few digs...as he got drunker,
he got a little meaner. After awhile, we decided to go to another bar that we knew about. The ELT's tagged along, including Gus. I guess Gus was pretty
drunk and he started walking down the street kicking cars. Bourgeois tells him, "Gus, you kick one more car and I'm going to punch
your lights out." Gus takes a couple of steps towards him and says, "Oh yeah? I'd like to..." WHAM!!! Sean hit Gus with a right
hook that knocked him right on his back. Gus gets up and says, "I'd like to see you do that..." POW!! Sean hits him with a right
again and knocks him about 6 feet into some cars. As luck would have it, Shore Patrol was heading up the street and saw Sean punch Gus the second time. They took us all back to
the ship and wrote Sean up. I had duty the next day and was standing Feed Control when I see Gus walk by. He looked like the
freakin' Elephant Man. His face was so swollen and bruised I hardly recognized him.
The next day we have to go to Sean's Captain's Mast as witnesses. The Captain comes in and doesn't say anything for awhile -- he
is looking us up and down and keeps turning his gaze towards Gus. He says, "Which one of you is petty officer (Gus - I forgot his
last name)?" Gus says, "I am sir." The CO is staring at his face again and says, "Why don't you tell me what happened." Gus
begins, "Well, sir...Petty Officer Bourgeois told me that if I didn't stop kicking cars that he was going to punch my lights out." The
Capt. sits there for a few minutes staring at Gus' face -- a small grin comes over his face and he says, "I guess he wasn't shittin' ya,
was he?" Everyone started to laugh (except Gus and Sean). They got off pretty easy, if I remember...but poor Gus looked like the
Elephant Man for another week or so.
Best Pals ....
This weekend I was back in my old Bay Area stompiní grounds. I
had no time to do anything but to fly in and out for a tradeshow but
I did see enough of the place to get the memories flowing. As I was
frantically driving to SFO to make my flight I passed the
familiar Brisbane exit and had a major flashback. I wondered if that
bar was still there. The one my brother-in-law Nitro liked,
where Dicko and Guido almost killed each other that night.
Mike's story (above) is a good prelude to this one, so here it goes:
It was really like every other night in those drydock days. We
rolled from one end of the Bay to the other in search of good times.
This was my night to be sober since I was the designated driver. (A
policy we didnít really adapt until about then.) I hated when I
had to stay sober because Dicko and Guido were terrible drunks. It
was like babysitting wild animals. I actually have dozens of stories
of such nights; this is just one of them.
So somehow we wound up at this place. Nitro claimed it was a
great country western bar; a place he enjoyed visiting when he was a
truck driver (which he was before he was in the navy). So what the
hell, we figure, letís give it a try. It was a Honky Tonk alright.
Now the trouble begins. At the bar sat two women. One was the
most gorgeous thang you ever saw and the other one was her sister.
God was unkind to the sister, as she didnít look much like her
sibling. Well, maybe if she lost about 300 lbs she might have. As
you can imagine these two gals were the focus of Guido and Dicko's
curiosityómostly the pretty one. They moseyed right up to the bar
next to them while Nitro and I played pool. Like I said before when
those two guys got drunk they changed from jovial, fun loving guys
to mean, vulgar hombres. Soon their evil sides began to surface as
they competed for the pretty woman's affections while at the same
time consuming mass
quantities of alcohol. The bartender finally came over
and told Nitro and I to get them out of the bar since they were
starting to annoy his other customers. So we tried but it was no
easy task. Especially when Guido emptied a ketchup bottle over Dickoís
head. Now Dicko was gonna kill him. The bartender picked up the
phone and called the police and Nitro and I grabbed Guido and carried
him outside by his wrists and ankles. We threw him in the backseat of
my olí trusty Pontiac and returned to retrieve Dicko. Dicko, now
covered in ketchup, just sat at the bar and refused to move. Like
Guido before him, Nitro and I finally had to pick him up by his arms
and legs and carry him out to the car. When we reached the car Dicko
yelled, "Guido, get out of the car Iím gonna hit you." As Guido was crawling out of the backseat Dicko nailed
him. POW! Slugged him right in the face! Well, you know. Now Guido
was out of the car chasing Dicko and it was a regular circus. The
police sirens were now only a block away and Nitro and I used all
our strength to get those two jokers back in the car so we could get
the hell out of there. I drove out of
the parking lot just as the police cars drove in.
Now we had the
ride from hell because those two guys were fighting to the death in
my backseat. I had to drive Nitro home first and could hardly stay
in my lane because the car was bouncing all over the place. Every once
in a while one would come smashing into the front seat and then climb
back into the back, as if he were a wrestler jumping back into the
ring. By the time I rolled to Nitroís house he didnít even wait
for me to stop. He fled from the car as fast as he could. He wanted
no more to do with those guys! Now I had to drive Guido back to TI
(where he was stationed after being separated from the Big E). But it was a gentler ride
because now the drunks were in the "loving stage" of their
fight. They were sorry and were hugging and apologizing and saying
things like, "I love ya man."
When we got to TI I pretty much dumped Guido on the steps of his
BEQ and then Dicko and I drove back to our Hunterís Point
Barracks. By then Dicko was semi-sober and couldnít believe that
he had sucker punched Guido like he had. He was so sorry. The next
day we rolled over to TI, picked up Guido for another night of
aimless drinking and he looked like hell. His face was puffy and
swollen and he had two black eyes. The poor guy had no idea what
happened to him the night before. Since Dicko didnít say anything
neither did I.
****'n A ditty bag
till tote this around ...
sub school was the best duty i ever had.
like a great summer vacation where you
got to play with cool boats and stuff and
go swimmin' in a very deep pool.
i loved it.
of course i was a 4.0 squared away sailor
in them daze ...
Bates Estabrooks Comes Aboard!
Please add me to your web site list of former Enterprise Nukes.
I was aboard from Jan 1978 till July 1981. At sea I was the RM23 Div. Officer, and at PSNS I had all of RM.
Oak Ridge, TN
|If you've worked
at Oak Ridge for a while then you must know most of the guys
I worked with at SAIC, since almost everyone in my program
came out of Oak Ridge. In the old days all
"neutron chasers" worth a damn seemed to come from
Oak Ridge. I learned everything I know from guys like
Doug Woody, Ed Dougherty, Gary Boyd, Rob Bailey and Mark
Brandyberry. Did you know these guys when they were at
Down Memory Lane
Last night I was walking my dog and I started
thinking about times long since past. Olongapo mainly.
I'm not sure why I was thinking about Olongapo. Maybe because it
was warm and muggy out and the tropical feel made my senses reminisce a
bit. Remember "channel fever," that feeling of bliss
you felt when you were a day or two away from Subic?
Everything was fine with the world and it was like it was Christmas
Eve or something. You simply couldn't contain your joy.
If all went well within an hour of being pier side you were off
(unless you were doomed with first day duty) and sprinting toward
the main gate. (Or, you awaited the shuttle bus--if you were
on the Cubi Point side.) You hit the gate, showed your ID to the
Filipino guard (you had to show ID going on and off the base)
and, then, there she was: Sh_t River! The smell told you
that you were in your favorite place on Earth. You migrate across the
bridge, doing your best to dodge the commotion and traffic coming at
you and then you are hit with the wall of sound. All the
bars facing you are cranking out loud music but yet somehow you are
still able to hear the girls with their sticks tapping on the money
changer windows. There you trade dollars for Pesos and then
you're off. Usually you steam in groups of four or five, but
that number will diminish as each bar is visited. Your first
pitcher of mojo goes down smooth; so does the second. But then
you start slowing down. Things are now getting blurry and you start drinking San
But they seem to make you thirstier so you switch back to mojo.
It now tastes better than ever. But you're also dizzier than
ever. The lights and sounds seem to blur together and
the endless traffic moving along Magsaysay pushes you along with
it. You know everyone and everyone seems to know you. Then you
find yourself at the Shark's Cove. Great, now you can sit and
relax for a spell. Just nukes and engineers here, so that's good.
You think to yourself that it's nice not having girls sitting on
your lap asking you to pay their bar fine or buy them drinks.
But, it also means another pitcher or two of mojo must be consumed
since everyone's buying. Then someone wants to go to the
Sierra Club. Hey that's a good idea! Great music.
Loud music. And you can eat the lumpia from the girls walking
around with trays. The lumpia seems to taste better than it ever did
before. Hey, now you're back at the Shark's Cove to rest again but
your ears are ringing and you can't hear what people are saying to
you. Is that a Peso show going on over there? You don't
care. Hey, now someone wants to go to The
Apple Club or Us Festival or wherever. You forgot that you had
been there earlier and told one of the girls you'd be back later. She grabs you at the
door--oh oh, looks like you found your girl for the
night. Then, well, things are really blurry. The band is
playing Stairway to Heaven and you're out there dancing. Free
Bird will be next. Who knows
what happens after that but the next thing you know you're woken up at 5:00 a.m., moved along down
to a waiting jeepney, deposited in a seat and brought back to the
main gate. You don't feel very well and you're praying you don't
have second day duty but you probably do. If you do have duty
you pray that at least you don't have the first watch. But you
probably do. If you don't have duty, well, then you hit your rack
for a few hours of deep slumber then someone wakes you up to begin the
festivities all over again. If the ship is in Subic for more
than a week then you can count on being near death when you finally hit
the open seas again....
Is this how you remember it, too?
PI Recall .....
That pretty much does it, KP... except the guys I hung with never took breaks at the Shark's Cove. We were flat
out day and night long! And we preferred the "barbeque" from the
street side vendors!
|Ah yes, Monkey
on a Stick. What was that stuff anyway. Was it
really monkey meat? I also remember eating those big
chicken feet. And then some clown would buy you bullat
if you'd agree to eat it--which you would.
Oh, oh. I can tell by how this
letter begins where it might go ...
so here i am drinkin again. so the big E is about to set sail. or is it. who knows. that has always been the worst part, right? not
knowing really pisses me off. I just want to know when i am leaving the states. but of course she doesn't want to leave. there are
signs of course that she is resistant to leave. this breaks and that breaks. of course when the CO comes over the
1mc to the crew there is just a flex in our schedule. WTFE. sh*t is broken and she doesn't want to leave. she wants to be overhauled. well, you
say, didn't you just get out of the shipyard. well sir, yes we did. "why isn't she ready?" you ask. well initially the yards were goin to
be 18 months. then it got shortened to 13 months. well then those ragheads had to
f**k with us on sept 11. so we pulled in late makin our yard period even shorter. well what happens when your yard period gets cut short. work gets cut too. well she didn't like
that. so she wanted to stay in the yards so she could get pretty. "they" didn't like that. they pushed and pushed but she wasn't
budging. she knew that she needed major work but things got pushed off.
SO here we are. we have set dates many a time to leave. every time less and less prepared because we all knew it was a joke
to think that she was ready for this long haul. AND now you think she is ready. hell no. everybody knows she isn't ready. but we
will go because we wouldn't want anyone to look bad now would we.
I need another drink, how about you. this will be one of the last times i get to do this so let me fill up my cup. hold on it will get
no it won't. what were you thinkin. 6 months with no ports. that sucks. now i know that some of you who will read this have done
harder times and for that i say congrats. i am just sayin that this will suck. this will be my 3rd deployment on the pig and it will be
the worst of the 3. that is all i am saying. i am not trying to say that i have it worse than anyone. i actually have it pretty good right
now. but for everyone this med is goin to suck.
I guess i am goin to close for now. this will not be my last entry but it could be for a while. so I hope that everyone is doin ok out
there. I know you are because if you are readin this more than likely you are not on the pig. I hope to come back with some good
sea stories and not bitch sessions. none the less, I wish you all good times. live life to its fullest. don't let anyone bring you down.
and all that jazz. later
Fred Berl Comes Aboard ....
Thanks for keeping the list up
Berl, Fred, RM4, 1976 - 1977
A 2plantloser Finally Looks at the KP
Hey Ram ,
Remember me? I was the other guy who loved vintage guitars....
.... I am one of the founders of the other site, 2plantlosers.
I just never clicked on your site I'm glad I did.....
Wayne Boozer Baran, 2 plant RM
It's about time one of you 2plantlosers finally sent me some
I hope this is suitable for you page...............
Plus I sent some pictures of the Big E when she was in Subic, Circa 1966/67
The Fight :
Enterprise was doing her shakedown in Gitmo right after the 1964/65 overhaul and refit at
Newport News Shipyard and Dry Dock facility. After being out for a number of days the ship
authorized a liberty. Seeing as how the country was off limits, the liberty was confined to the base
and the clubs that were available. After being on the ship doing nothing but the GQ, Collision,
flooding, and fire party thing, base liberty looked good. You cannot believe the amount of lectures
that were given in regard to not causing trouble at the installation. Should that occur, all liberty
would be canceled, so on and so forth.
Three sailors, from the ship's Repair Div. (Shipfitters and DC Men) had taken a kindly
invitation to imbibe at the then Marine Corps Club. I will not mention any names but let it be said
all three were SFM 3rd Class Petty Officers from the ship's Shipfitter Metal Shop. The evening
progressed and the three men were ambassadors of the highest order along with others from the
division that had joined them at this club.
The evening ended, Cinderella Liberty in effect, and the three took the bus back to the landing
where they caught a liberty launch back to the "Big E." The three young men sat in the forward area
of the launch and rode peacefully back to the ship. Their peaceful sojourn was interrupted when a
disturbance between some Filipino Steward Mates and another group of sailors erupted. The
disturbance was quickly quelled and the ride back to the ship continued uneventful.
Once back on the fantail After Brow, the three R-Div. sailors walked the length of the Hangar
Bay to the first down ladder on the starboard side of the tunnel. The three descended down the
ladder and were immediately jumped by many of the stewards before they had cleared the ladder.
Fists were flying everywhere and stewards were hitting the ground as the three did everything to
eliminate what was happening. At one point one of the "R-Div." sailors was jumped and took a
number of shots on the head. He went to ground but was still conscience and as his comrade would
hit one to the deck he would finish him with a blow from his level. Finally the commotion brought
others from the "R-Div." compartment, which was below the Stewards berthing, and the Ship's
Master-at-Arms. The fight was over.
It was tallied that there were some 15 to 20 stewards that required medical attention and one
Shipfitter, the one who caught the dogging wrench in the head some four times. I understand that
he kept that wrench as a memento for some years after the fight. He had been hit so hard with it, it
had bent the piece of pipe. There is one thing that I remember hearing having been said by the Chief
Engineer to the Supply Officer. Supposedly it went like so, "I have some three hundred engineers
on this ship. If you want play numbers I can set them loose on the Supply Department." Everything
got settled in the wardroom, which was right above the Shipfitter Shop.
Richard R. Allen, USN Retired
Dates of Service on Enterprise May 63 - Oct. 67
Fireman Apprentice - Shipfitter Metal 2nd Class
France and Perth, 1986 ......
I thought you would enjoy these pictures. I remembered your story about the beaches of France - check Ralphy out! It was a bad hair day for me, but check Schaaf in the
background trying to bargain something for some cheap wine.
The other two pictures are Perth -Club 242. Australia is anti-nuke so we had to stay out in the bay. I remember waiting to drop
anchor and everyone was screaming about girls on a boat flashing their assets. I ran up to the aft anchor deal (forgot the navy term)
and there they were. Every minute that went by more and more squids came to the side of the boat, some guys were hanging over
the edge, and soon the a voice over the 1mc told the boat to move away. Pretty effective advertising. Am only sending the G-rated
What amazes me is about being in the Navy is for such a short period of my life (6 years) it was filled with so many stories, and just
Kid Pillow (I don't require as much sleep these days)
The Streaker ....
[The following story was borrowed from the
Critical Thinking Website.]
..... never did any streaking myself, but I do
recall the change of command ceremony for Capt Carol C. Smith was
streaked. This was when he relieved "Engineroom Ernie"
Tissot. Tissot received that nickname due to the fact that he was
unsure anything existed below the main deck. He frequented the ready
rooms, but only came down into the nether regions we occupied if
there was a MAJOR problem or if a very VIP wanted to see nuclear
power in action. I recall we were in Alameda, and the rumor had been
circulating for weeks that the ceremony would be streaked.
At the time, the Master-at-Arms force was made up
of whoever could be shanghied from their divisions. The powers that
were decided to supplement the regular MAA people with a draft from
each division. The idea was to have enough sailors to place two men
at each door/hatch leading to the hanger bay where the ceremony was
to take place. So several of us junior nukes were told to spiff
ourselves up in dress blues, and report to the hanger bay for
assignment. Many of us (myself included) were chosen simply because
we had a set of blues available.
So here we are on the big day: bands, marines,
admirals, officers, IPs, invited guests, camp followers, wives,
girlfriends, etc. on the hanger bay. The actual ceremony went off
without a hitch. A reception followed, and it was during this that
the Big Streak happened. My partner and I were stationed in the aft
hanger bay on the starboard side, just forward of number three
elevator. All of a sudden from forward we hear this huge commotion,
yelling, whooping, and varying levels of consternation. The streaker
had entered from the forward door that led to the AIMD shops. He
correctly figured that everyone would be focused on getting a piece
of cake and a cup of punch in the reception line. He barreled down
the port side, clad in nothing but a pair of flight deck boots, and
this boy was moving! I recall one of the MAAs, a fat little
lifer-type, waddling down after him yelling, "Stop that
Man!" at the top of his lungs. My partner and I knew we weren't
going to stop him, he was moving too fast, and we had no real desire
It transpired however that he attempted to get off
the hanger bay through the one aft door guarded by a dedicated MAA,
and he was duly tackled and hauled away. The funny part was
afterwards. Since the streak had occurred we supplemental MAAs were
released to attend the reception. As we wandered about in the crowd,
it was all we could do to keep from busting out laughing as we heard
the conversation among wives of admirals and captains. "Did you
see him?" "No, damn it! Admiral so-and-so's wife, had me
all tied up talking about her begonias." And so on. It appeared
that everyone was excited about the streaking craze, and was
disappointed that they had missed the great event. It transpired
that the guy was brought to mast. C.C. busted him one rate, and
fined him $300. Later we heard that the guy had won a pool worth
$700 for actually streaking the ceremony. He was an E-3, busted to
E-2, so he still came out ahead.
First Night(s) in PI ....
Loved your story about a typical day in Olongapo. Sounded a lot like some of mine. I've been in all the clubs you mentioned, but
probably while you were still in Junior High School. Too bad the guys of later times were not able to enjoy the pleasures of that fine
city. Of coarse I'm sure the AIDS thing was putting a damper on it near the end. Your story reminded me of some recent
correspondence between 4MMR Willy and myself. I figured I'd edit it and share it with you and your website. I've omitted and/or
changed some names to protect the guilty.
On our way between Hawaii and the PI the "old salts" were regaling us with stories of the Olongapo. Some even showed us pictures.
We were all chomping at the bit. When we got in the Subic area there was a monsoon and it was storming like a mother. We circled
for a couple of days waiting for the weather to clear enough for the tugs to come out, but to no avail. Finally
Capt. CC Smith said, "F**k the monsoon. I'm pulling in." Legend has it, he did so without the tugs. The weather was so bad that they didn't even put the
after brow up. They just lowered one of the aircraft elevators, and wheeled some portable stairs up to it. We waited for our turn and
when we it came we made a mad dash. When we got to the far side of the elevator, we stopped running. We just could NOT have
gotten any wetter. We got down to the little snack bar and joined the horde waiting for transportation. I remember that there were
some open excavations, which nobody could see due to the flooding. I saw more than one dude completely disappear into one. A
bus came by and the driver was afraid to stop. He just opened the passenger door and slowly drove by as squids jumped in. We
were among lucky ones who made it.
The bus dropped us off at the main gate Peso changing windows. It was raining so bad that for some reason we decided to stay on
base. We caught a taxi and asked the driver to take us to the EM club. I believe this was the first time we heard the Guererro Taxi
dispatcher. She always sounded so harried. ("Number seeeex, come eeeeen! Cars close to Cubi, come eeeen!') The driver drove us
in a circuitous route to run up the fare, and dropped us off at the Sampaguita Club. This was at most 200 yards from where we
started. They had "hostesses" at the club and a couple came over to sit with us. I remember it being awkward for us neophytes. The
gals that sat with us were named Bebe and Ophie. Anyhow, we got a load on and returned to the ship without really having an
On our first full day in port, I'm not sure what we were supposed to be doing, but let me tell you, none of us were doing it! Everyone
was either telling P.I. stories or listening to them. Some dudes had obviously gotten their first piece of ass mere hours before and
just sat about silently with that "thousand yard stare." After hearing all the stories, you and I got together and developed a game
plan. We had heard several horror stories about dudes being ripped off and decided to take preventative measures in that
department. We also had heard a number of stories about guys who were already pissing razor blades or had the drips. (Must have
been psychosomatic). You and I took an oath that we would NOT get laid on our first night in town. We would just do a recon, to
check it out, and would make plans to partake on our second night in town. (Yeah, right!).
At liberty call, we took off with a group of about 6 to 8 RT types. We went to the main gate, exchanged our money and took our first
walk across Shit River. Even after the previous days monsoon it was still ripe. Little did we know that soon we would stop in the
middle of that span on a hot day, inhale deeply and sigh "Ahhh. Home!" If I remember correctly there was just a light drizzle this
evening. We proceeded down Magsaysay in a tight bunch. I had my wallet in my front pocket, my hands were in my front pockets,
and I would not make eye contact with anyone. We kept passing bars, and periodically someone would suggest "Hey, lets go in this
one" Someone else would find a reason not to go in. Finally we were over half way down the street and I spotted the Bali Hai. One of
the RT instructors had mentioned that this was a good place to go. We all decided "What the Hell. We gotta start
someplace." In we went like lambs to the slaughter.
It was really dark in there and we could hardly see. Instantly girls were on us like white on rice. One of the girls asked what we
wanted to drink and we all responded "Mojo." Multiple pitchers were brought to the table. Things got real fuzzy real fast. All I really
remember was a big ventilation fan in the back of the club and Mumbles sitting on my lap, (Think she sat on everyone's lap). My
next conscious memory was being in the Sherry Club and seeing "Our Daily Bread" (later of Astro Club fame) for the first time. I was
totally impressed! While we were there, some of our buddies came in with pictures of them at some club. We thought it would be
great to get our own pictures taken and asked the guys where they got the pictures. They said that they got them at the "Queen
Bee." We naively figured this was the only place in Olongapo that had this service. We took off for the Queen Bee and I'm not sure if
we got our pictures taken or not.
Anyhow, we were still in the Queen Bee at closing time. We found ourselves out in the 11:30 madness of Magsaysay heading for
the base. I had to take a leak, and went behind a parked jeepney to do so. When I returned, there you and B were with a couple of
street walkers. I told you to remember our vow and you said, " Pat. They said they can make us some mojo! We'll just go to their
place and have a couple of drinks." Sounded good to me and B was beyond caring what the Hell HE did! All 5 of us climbed aboard
for our first tricycle ride. With 5 passengers the trike driver was shifting like crazy, but never seemed to get above 20 mph. Seemed
like the trike ride lasted forever.
When the ride finally ended, we got off and literally went through a hole in the wall to get in the girls house. We gave them some
money and they returned with some coke and cheap rum. (Not exactly the mojo we were promised, but TYFG) We chugged this rot
gut down while they were looking for a third girl. When time came for playing "Hide the Sausage" me and B had to share a bed while
you got one of your own. B and I were jealous since you and your hooker had a bed to yourselves. I was pretty tired and drunk and
not really attracted to the gal that I drew, so I closed my eyes, grit my teeth, thought about a girl back home and got it over with. B
must have used the same goal oriented technique, because he finished right after me. Around the corner where you were, however,
things went on forever. You evidently had a pretty good heat on and couldn't bust a nut. None the less you were a real trooper and
stayed with it. I have a lingering memory of sometime during the night going out in their little yard and taking a leak. I remember
looking at myself bathed in the moonlight, and noticing that I was clothed only in my briefs and one sock. (The left one as I recall). I
also remember thinking "Wow. What kind of a place is this?"
In the morning the noise of roosters and 2 stroke engines brought us to life. The girls dressed us, combed our hair, and gave us a
back couple of pesos so we could get back to base. I remember walking toward the base saying over and over to myself like a
mantra, "I KNOW I've got the clap". Soon we encountered other shell shocked squids heading in the same direction, all with vacant
looks on their faces. It reminded me of the movie "Night of the Living
Dead." When we got back to the ship first thing we did was take a shower. Your knees were tore up something fierce. Seems your bed was
nothing more some wooden slats covered with a sheet.
KP, It was stuff like this that made life on the E bearable for my generation. Not sure how today's guys do it.
My First Real Night in Olongapo ...
This picture says it all. That's me in the middle, passed
out with someone holding up my head for the photographer. I
see Dicko, Keven Willy and Dave Conklin were with me that
night. I was told later that Dave "Meat" Matatall
had to carry me back to the Pig.
Something The Cruiser Ghost Wished He
Thought Of ....
I got this from a book about the world war one exploits of Admiral
Canaris, who in his pre-nazi days, found a good way to deal with foul mouthed senior
officers. When he was a junior officer, he would repeat the last or key word
of the senior's rant, but in a shout. Something like this:
senior: "This space looks like sh*t"
C: SH*T SIR!
senior: "The men in this division are idiots"
C: IDIOTS SIR!
senior: "Even the paintwork is f__ked up"
C: F__KED UP SIR!
senior: "You will never get anywhere in the Navy, you are a looser"
C: LOOSER SIR!
senior: "Look at the uniform on this man, what an a__hole"
C: A__HOLE SIR!
I had an engineer back on the cruiser that this would have been ideal for. He
liked to rant, and the seeming agreement/approval would have fed his nasty
ego. I offer it now for any short and brave soul with a nasty superior.
Whoop, There It
Onward Brave Souls
... To Page 21!