Sailing, Sailing

While I'm strolling down memory lane about my visits to Hawaii (see previous post), I might as well go back and recall other things about my four Pacific Ocean voyages a la the US Navy--to Hawaii and back, and to Japan and back.  I think we were probably on board ship a week to Hawaii, and ten days to Japan.

Random thoughts and memories:

1.  The first ten years of my existence were spent as a Navy Brat.  Life was all about ships and duty stations.  Dad was an officer, so we were considered somewhat privileged in the hierarchy of military life, but we were also expected to behave in a way that was worthy of Dad's rank.  It was all about respect.  Non-military kids had "ceilings" and "bathrooms" and regular non-military clothing. We had "bulkheads" and "heads" and "civies".    That's just the way it was.  On at least two occasions, we were invited as a family to eat at the Captain's Table.  You'd better bet we were threatened to be good!

2.  Along the walls in the passageways of the ship were mounted small wooden racks that contained bags.  Everything on board a Navy ship is labeled, of course, and these racks said, "Emesia bags. Take one."  I had to have my mother explain to me what an "emesia bag" was--vomit bags for seasickness.  Ewww....

3.  Meals were announced on the PA system, preceded by three tones on what sounded like a xylophone (like the three-toned NBC sound on TV), and were only served during certain times. Meals were served family style, by stewards--mostly Filipino--and I remember being impressed that they could bring me just about anything I asked for to drink, even though we were on board a ship. Several of the stewards--especially on the first voyage--seemed to know my dad's likes and dislikes. We were treated quite well by the wait staff!

4.  Drinks were served in plastic tumblers to lessen breakage in the event of rough seas.  We experienced a few occasions when things slid down the table a bit, but we never had anything go totally over.  Spillage was normal.

5.  The rooms, euphemistically called "staterooms" were strictly military fare.  The doors were metal and could be sealed, but there was a 4"-5" threshold that had to be stepped over.  (This was to keep several inches of accidental water contained in that one room.)  Just inside the door to the right were some metal lockers.  To the left were some overhead metal cabinets, under which was a metal desk and chair.  Beyond those were the bunks, lining the walls of the room--two tiers high on each side--with drawers at the bottom for storage.  At the far end of the room was a porthole (window), and lining the floor under that were cubby holes that contained life preservers.  (The Navy called them "Mae Wests" due to the fact that they bulked up at the breast line...like the buxom movie star of the same name.)  To the right, between the lockers and the bunks, was a very small bathroom--the Head--which consisted of a toilet, a sink, and a shower.  The bathroom door was also sealable with a high threshold.

6.  Ships--at least military ships--have a limited supply of fresh water, most of which needs to be conserved for drinking, food prep, etc.  Thus, showers were self-limiting, equipped with a valve that shut them off after only a minute or so.  My dad taught me that the custom for showering on board ship was to run the shower to get wet.  When it turned off, you could soap up, then turn it on again to rinse off.  No standing underneath hot running water for long!  (I don't think my daughter or granddaughter would survive!)

7.  Not long after getting underway out to sea, there comes a time when all vestiges of land disappear.  There are no longer any landmarks; no street signs.  No trees or grass.  Nothing but the vast expanse of water in every direction.  I confess that, on each of my four voyages, I experienced a fleeting moment of panic when I realized that we were then at the mercy of the sea.  It didn't last more than a few seconds, but it was there.  (The only other time I experienced that feeling was when I was spelunking with my then-husband, finding myself inside primitive caves with the only light being what we had brought with us.  Again, thankfully, the anxiety left me as quickly as it came.)

8.  It was not unusual for us to stand on deck and witness flying fish jumping through the waves. Even more common was the sight of porpoises swimming alongside the ship.  Signs of life were most welcome!

9.  The trip to Japan involved crossing the International Date Line (180th Meridian).  Unbeknownst to young me, this--because of a large number of dependents who had never crossed the Date Line before (pollywogs)--was a big deal.  It involved initiation into The Domain of the Golden Dragon, ruled by King Neptune.  We were to cross on August 8, 1957, on the USNS Sultan.  My father somehow got elected to be King Neptune that day (because he was a senior officer??), and I was largely left out.  It seems that the female teenagers on board, because of their vulnerability to teasing, were the targets of the initiation.  (I was only 10.)  My initiation consisted only of having to wear a shirt backwards and wearing a painted-on mustache.  My sister, however--the teenage daughter of King Neptune--was given a type-written summons to King Neptune's court.  Her offense was playing Elvis Presley records in the Royal Palace.  Her sentence was to have her hair shampooed in green worms (noodles in food coloring).  She said it took forever to wash it all out! I was also fascinated by some other punishments.  One gal was put on deck, with no mirrors, to have her precious long hair cut.  The ship's barber had saved clippings to drop on her shoulders and lap as he pretended to cut off her hair.  She freaked out.  Another was blindfolded and ordered to walk barefoot on broken glass (actually broken egg shells on deck). There was some s hairy-chested sailor walking around naked except for a huge diaper, bonnet, and a large baby bottle hung around his neck--the Royal Baby, I guess.  I just thought it was all in great fun but, because I was so young, was not allowed in the festivities.  I had to hear about it from the participants later.  We were issued colorful certificates verifying that we had been initiated.  I still have mine.

10.  Crossing the Date Line was confusing.  Every couple of days, we were advised by PA to change our clocks, having passed yet another time zone...but at some point, time catches up with itself, and it becomes a different day.  PLEASE don't make me look this up because I forget which trip was which, but going one way, when we crossed the Date Line, we skipped a day.  Went from, say, Thursday one day to Saturday the next.  The other way, we had two of the same day in a row.  One day was Tuesday, and the next day was Tuesday.  World travel at its finest!

11.  On our way to Hawaii (early 50s) we were a family of four.  No problem with the number of stateroom bunks.  On the way to Japan (late 50s), however, we were a family of five.  Things were a bit crowded.  On the Japan trip, my sister (who was 15 on the way east and 16 on the way back)  was given a stateroom with other women.  (On the trip back to the States, her roommate was another teen.)  There were empty staterooms and virtually no trouble they could get into on the high seas.  I just was jealous because SHE was being treated as an adult, and I--equally mature in my 10-year-old estimation--was still being treated as a kid. Hmph!  Understand that there were no TVs on board. (We hadn't seen a TV show or heard American music since the year before.)  If I'd had my own room, I wouldn't have been happy...but Shari loved it...or so I thought.  She has reminded me that the trip back had such rough seas that she was desperately seasick.  All she wanted was fresh air, but the doors to the outside decks had been chained off because waves were washing over them.  I guess she tried to scoot under the chains a time or two but was caught and sent back inside.  Poor Shari!

12.  In my last post, I mentioned the Asiatic Flu which was ravaging the world's population at the time.  My 4-year-old brother was suffering from it on our trip back from Japan.  One night, he leaned over the side of his lower bunk and up-chucked on the floor.  We were experiencing rough seas. You haven't lived until you have watched a pool of vomit slide around with the roll, pitch, and yaw of a ship.  Yuck!

13.  Valentine's Day happened during our trip back to the States from Japan.  I felt bad that I had no Valentines to give to my family....so...just like what my granddaughter would do now, I sat on my top bunk and cut up a comic book to make my own.  I had some origami papers to use, found some pictures in the comic that I liked, and tried to put them together.  I didn't have any glue, so I used tiny pieces of chewing gum to affix the pictures to the paper, then wrote some verses of my own. On Valentine's Day, my mother complimented me on my resourcefulness and how she would never have thought to do something like that.  I felt so special!

14.  While we were overseas, home was "The States". My very young brother called it "the stakes"...so that's what it became.  "Back in The Stakes" became the basis of many conversations.

15.  I should mention that, after spending a week or ten days aboard a rocking-and-rolling vessel, putting feet on dry land doesn't change the motion sensation for at least a day.  The term "sea legs" has a reason for existence!  Things that are plumb, like chains hanging from porthole windows, seem to be tilted until you realize that the chain is straight, but YOU are off-kilter!

16.  When we docked in Yokohama Harbor, teams of Japanese "stevedores" showed up to haul our luggage off the ship.  They were chattering to each other in Japanese, and I thought it was the funniest thing I had ever heard.  Such gibberish!  I soon lost all scorn for that, realizing that I was a guest in their country.  I gained nothing but total respect for the Japanese people, in spite of everything that happened in WWII.  It changed my thinking and my life.

I'm sure I have forgotten a few memories here, many of which aren't significant to anyone but me; however, these things all helped to form the me that I am today.  In some respects, I missed certain parts of normal American childhood because of my military upbringing, and I was affected by that all my life.  But in other respects, I understand how very blessed I was by virtue of experiences and perceptions that other Americans will never have.   I can handle that!