38 Years Ago Under the Stars
by Gary McLaughlin aka CowboyI was driving along this morning coming back from getting my truck serviced and my mind just wandered off (it does that a lot as I get older)......
In my mind it was 38 years ago, aboard the USS Sterlet, somewhere in the South Pacific. We were in transit, it was 0200, the after battery sleeping compartment was dark, only the sounds of farts and snoring could be heard over the melodic hum of the Fairbanks Morse engines. We were running on the surface, in transit, not involved in any ops, just cruising along at "All Ahead Standard", propulsion on two main engines, with a fully charged battery!
The boat was rolling gently as we traveled along in a generally westerly direction on our way to WestPac. I was a brand new qualified QM striker, "standing" a QMOW (mid watch). The control room and con were rigged for red, and the blast of fresh ocean air coming down the conning tower hatch into the control room, then aft to the engine rooms, was exhilarating!
With permission from my boss, the QM2, I climbed up the ladder into the con, and yelled up through the hatch, "Permission to come topside, Sir?" "Permission Granted!," the OD answered. I brought him and the lookouts fresh coffee.
I climbed up that short ladder to the bridge, and thought about farting in the face of my buddy who on the helm as I went by him, then thought better of it, the night was too perfect for that). And once topside smelling the fresh ocean air, feeling the light breeze in my face, watching the phosphorescent plankton in our wake, the most amazing blanket of stars imaginable, it was like you could scoop them with a ladle! And there was the gentle hum and vibration of the engines, and the smoke coming out with the sea water in the exhaust. Every so often the breeze would change direction and we would get a whiff of that diesel exhaust mixed with the seawater - what a smell, like perfume to a pig boat sailor - nothing like following a big truck or a bus down the road. That was the smell of heaven to nineteen year old who just trying to learn how to be all grown up!
Every so often a flying fish would fly by the sail, almost close enough for me to reach out and catch with my bare hand!
Then, the OD, a great "jg", whose name I cannot remember but whose face I can clearly see, would give me a lesson on the sextant, teaching me how to shoot the stars just as it had been done for centuries before by our seafaring ancestors.
"Permission to smoke, sir?", I would ask. "Granted", the OD would answer, and I would reach up and unroll my t-shirt sleeve (just like they did in West Side Story, because I was "cool", and shake a Pall Mall out of the pack, take my official USS Sterlet Zippo out of my cut-off's, flick it open with one hand (because, after all, I was cool and an old salt by then), and bring the lighter up near my mouth and the end of the cigarette. Just as I was about to light it, I remembered, "what if there's a Jap airplane up there, and he sees the flash of my lighter, it could give our position away!" So I would duck down behind the bridge cowling and light up, always remembering to cup the lit end of the cigarette in my hand so the glow couldn't be seen by the "enemy", whoever they were that night!
As I look back now, an older man, to those wonderful days of my youth, to the adventure, the thrills, the friendships, I do think that if I knew then what I know now I might have paid the Navy, instead of them paying me (about $98.00 per, plus $50.00 dive pay) just to be a part of that. For whatever it might have cost me, the memories and pride I have at this stage of my life for having been there and done that would have made it the best deal I ever got!
Happy Independence Day, America.......and to you, my wonderful shipmates!
Cowboy(This story was written just a few days prior to Independence Day, 2000 -- Ed.)
The author, Gary "Cowboy" McLaughlin left us on
eternal patrol on 17SEP2005. Sailor, rest your oar.