Back in the early 90’s I was standing the 00-08 in Norfolk in January.It was probably 20 below with the wind chill. My Ordinary was a crackhead. When I came to relieve him at the gangway he was standing there with no shirt…sweating!
Besides my relief and the gangway over my shoulder with bag in hand.
On a clear moonless night in the middle of the Leonid meteor shower that only happens once every several years. Looked like a bunch of white flares decsending from the sky, horizon to horizon.
- 66, on a Victory at anchor in Manila Bay, the Enterprise near, the whole Australian navy round about, choppers and launches going by continuously, the Aussies running amuck in Manila, President Johnson at the Manila Hotel
- being buzzed by the RAF off Singapore, warned to show our ensign, which the mate was saving because one, our other one, had been used as a drop cloth in an AB’s paint-by-numbers adventures in our ruined lounge
- 12 to 4 sometime after midnight in the Indian Ocean. On lookout, seeing a large orange ball, about the size of a quarter held at arms length off the starboard quarter. Consultation with the mate determined that it couldn’t be the moon, which anyway should have been in the south. The ball remained for sometime, then gradually faded. Later, a notice is posted on a board in the galley telling everyone to dress in heavy clothes, seal all openings, and wash down everything once an hour because the Chinese had exploded a dirty bomb and we would shortly be passing throug heavy fallout. An hour later, another notice, tellling us forget it, not to worry, we had probably already passed through it!
- with much forward way on, in Southampton, about to warp into the Queen Mary, which was idle there because of a seamen’s strike, as, meanwhile, the 2nd mate and a drunk AB slugged it out on the fantail to the jeers of the dockworkers that had ran when the stern wire began to sing
- 68, typhoon central pacific, very high confused seas with such a short wave length they could have been piling up over a reef. A tremendous roller coaster ride that buried everything forward of the house every time we dropped over a wave.
- 75, parting the pack ice, Bering Sea.
- 76, the DB Thor rolling off the Forties Alpha, North Sea, while the nearly four hundred foot long shear legs of a crane that could put 2000 tons 250 feet up on the platform was used to transport workers in crew baskets, at high speed, high up onto the platform in the light of the roaring flarestack
- 77, in the radio room of a giddily swaying jackup off the Dutch Coast, hearing of the rolling Sea Troll, which had lost its tow in the northern North Sea, falling broadside to 60 foot waves, the captain calmly ordering everyone to standby, not to try to launch life rafts, but just stand at the doorways in lifejackets as, meanwhile, the Spanish welders prepared to burn lose the saturation diving system to send it over the side. Of the five divers inside it was relayed to us on the jackup that they just said, “Lock us in some valium.” (The Sea Troll regained its tow, but if the message on the radio was true, a tow boat was lost with all hands.)
- from the semisubmersible Sedco 704, which was acting as a diving platform alongside the Piper Alpha, watching one of the two flarestacks catch fire, melt, and fall into the sea (I have photos of this). The Piper Alpha was of course the platform that, with most of its workers, was destroyed by fire in 88.
- 83, Bering, the haulback on an Akebono stern trawler, 400grt, killer whales converging on the ship from all along the horizon, chasing a whale, which sounded right along side of us, then the killers plunging after it. I thought of this every time I saw a diver’s flag in the vicinity of killers in Puget Sound.
- 83, Bering, Akebono Maru 1 to Akebono Maru 18, an amazing heaving line throw. Swung faster and faster in a vertical circle, about twenty feet in diameter, at the bow, then let go. A good two hundred foot throw that landed right at the feet of the catcher. (heavily weighted ball, of course). It was used to return a messenger, and then a line came back with the hand calculator, that I had left behind in an at sea transer, all wrapped in a pretty white package with a yellow bow. (This was twelve hours after the transfer. Maybe it had something to do with maintaining observer-Japanese relations.)
- Erroy Flynn in The Big Boodle in Havana, 58, returning from Scandinavia as messegut on a Norse freighter.
13 60, as a deck passenger on a tiny Dutch freighter, first from Biak, Manokwari, Sorong New Guiinea to Sandakan, Borneo, then from Bangkok to Songkla, Singapore, Port Swettenham Malaya, up river at Sampit,Borneo, Makassar, Timor, and Merauke New Guinea, settling in with Chinese and cattle and chickens and strong smells of deck-cooked rice.
oldguy… wow. Maybe you should write a book!
Well, I went to sea to escape, maybe because I had little else to do some hot Kansas summers but sit under an elm tree, wait for the popsicle boy to pedal around, and overhear a radio while I consulted an atlas.
"You! Finding life rather dull? Dreaming again of exotic places? Wishing you were somewhere else? WE offer you ESCAPE! (Music) Escape with us now to a small freighter in the China Sea and a sinister traveler who brings destruction to crew and ship alike, as Ella Saint Joseph tells it in his most unusual play, A Passenger to Bali. (music) The papers in my pocket
said, Steamship Roundabout, 9000 tons, British registry, Master and owner Captain English. Stamped across the face was the clearance of the port authorities. (dock sounds) Ah, I’d be glad to see the last of Shanghai, its smell and its waterfront filth. Cargoes had been scarce. Now, with our holds filled for the first time in months, I didn’t want to waste time. I wanted to get underway before morning. Mr Slaughter! Aye Cap’n. You step up here to the bridge, mister. Aye sir. (clump clump clump) Are we ready to sail, mister? All secure sir. All hands on board? Aye sir. Good, let’s clear port, Mr. Slaughter. Yes sir. (clump clump clump ship’s horns.
Mr. Engle, stand by to cast off! Stand boy! (other voices, stand boy, stand boy.) Let go the stern spring line! You there on the dock, hike that line for’ard!
(old radio program)
ps another episode with an Akebono trawler, 83. Gigantic storm that we ran before, absolutely mountainous, but long waves that we slid down unharmed. (By this time I knew that the captain was a superb ship handler.) Unable to sleep, hearing a continous loud banging forward and below, a sound like metal buckling back and forth, I rouse myself, go down to the galley, find no one there, no one in the wheelhouse for about five seconds, when someone came rushing up the stairs, no one in the rooms where the crew hotbunked where I could see through curtains, no one at all in the passageway, just welding smoke coming from forward until the whole passage was filled with the smoke and odor of welding or cutting. Then the captain came through a door forward and proceeded to the wheelhouse stairs. I asked what the noise had been. He gave me a wierd smile and said doors, doors, and made slamming motions with his hands. At breakfast, where he always arrived last and stepped over me in stocking feet, he just looked at me and said again, doors, doors. Then he turned on the tv on the bulkhead and pushed in the out of sync porno movie we watched at every meal. Doors, doors he said again and brushed the subject away forever.
Well, there have been lots of the coolest thing…the multi water spouts (wasnt close enough to see shit flying around in it though), Whale shark and one BIG ASSED SHARK (must of been a Great White) I was quite awed as he seemed to be a match for the 70’ trawler I was standing on, Green Flash, The giant meteor that flew from horizon to horizon with firey chunks falling off. I will never forget my first liberty in Pataya Beach Thailand (wading ashore from the boats to see elephants, cobras, monkeys, cold beer hot women WOW). But one of the most bizar was…we were one day out of Subic Bay still in the Philippine Opareas. The Captain wanted to give the gunners some practice. We deployed our target (an expendable, inflatable ball we call the Killer Tomato) and opened distance to about 1 mile to commence shooting. I was on an Amphib which had 2 gun mounts of twin 3" 50 cal rifles. Old guns but reliable. Anyway we get set verify that the range is clear and give the gunners permission to commence. They start with ranging shots…Boom…Boom…Boom… after several shots they get the range and let her rip. Twin 3’ 50’s firing at about 30 rounds a minute each. Smoke, fire, water geysers I mean that shit is flying everywhere!!! Everything is within about 20 yards of our tomato. When out of nowhere a fricking Banca Boat goes screaming right into the middle of this maelstrom. The Capt is screaming cease fire, the cease fire alarm is blaring and rounds are still headed down range (takes a while to fly a mile) and this banca goes screaming right in there, rounds dropping all around him. We get everything shut down and wait for the smoke to clear and there we see this lucky fool calmly collecting our Killer Tomato. Not sure what he planned to do with it but he took it. Kinda like the game warden showing up at your deer camp, our shooting was done for the day.
“Red on Right Returning” 
after being strapped to the seat 1/2 the night. 
Also standing on the stern of a shrimp trawler enjoying the view of the heavens on a beautiful still night with calm waters then looking down and seeing an army of dark shadows ever so slowly maneuvering.
Caution 
You never ever want to fall off the back of a working shrimp boat. :eek: