When I finally was relieved of my mess cook duty aboard the Glacier, I started standing Helm and lookout as well as messenger watches. I also had to turn to, on the deck force during the day. This was mostly grinding and sanding rust, painting, swabbing the deck and any other exposed surface as well as keeping all the brass polished on the bridge and anywhere else. I was finally invited over to the crew that was being kind off secretive about what they were doing. Turns out they were doing all the fancy work for the railings on the gangway and about the ship. This work took a little skill and it was preferable to the other arduous tasks a seaman apprentice on the deck force was required to do. It was wrapping this sticky hemp line around the railings in a series of half hitches that created a spiral pattern around the railings which provided a sure grip. Then there were other more complicated knots at the various locations where the railing came to a 45 degree angle with the railing that proceeded in another direction, or at the end of the railing. These were called turks heads and they were a little more difficult to master. When it was finished it was painted over and looked good as well as being functional. The BM2 let me get a little taste of that before I was back to the same old grind.
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| Turks Head |
I finally was able to maneuver a project that kept me busy for several weeks though I could have done it in a few days. I convinced the the Chief BM that the wooden supports that cradled the crane when it was not in use were rotten and that I could replace them. So I had a project all to myself that during morning muster when the jobs were handed out I was able to oky doke Cheif Biel and I milked that project for all that it was worth. It also gave me the opportunity to explore the different departments of the ship in my search for tools and material. I took the initiative because I had worked on boats previously with Northern Marine Industries. A friend of my fathers owed him a favor and employing me was the payback. My father was a group supervisor at the Drug Enforcement Administration in Seattle. Well apparently this 19 year old, Larry Latin would occasionally provide my dad with information that he could use to make the drug cases he was investigating. Larry was a real entrepreneur. He would buy these old wooden pleasure yachts and refurbish them to pristine condition and then sell them. Well Larry got himself into some trouble when he was offered $40,000 to launder $100,000 worth of drug money. Well Larry got in over his head, and my dad bailed him out in some way, and Larry was indebted to my dad.
So my first day on the job I was caulking the decks of the Grotte Beir" This Gaudy River Yacht was almost as wide as long and was equipped with 2 massive flopper stoppers, and included a fireplace. Herman Goering The famed leader of the Luftwaffe in Hitlers Nazi Germany, apparently had the yacht built. It was owned by Stuart Anderson the founder of the Black Angus Restaurant chain. I did know it at the time but during discussions between my dad and Larry over my employment , we were invited to Larrys Yacht The Viking for a lunch party out in Port Townsend. I was introduced to Stuart Anderson who I had not a clue of who he was, until years later. After lunch he even invited me to go canoeing with him which I did and was pleased with myself that he would invite me. The Groote Beir was not very practical but looked magnificent all teak and Mahogany shiny with multiple layers of varnish. That varnishing was a pain in the ass and a lot of work. Sanding then applying the varnish in such a way it would not run, yet still cover the area. These guys were so picky, I never did get very good at it. Caulking the decks was basically stuffing lines of cotton into the spaces between the deck boards with a chisel like tool and a mallet then running a bead of sealant on top of that. After it dried, we had to trim it flush to the deck and make it look pretty. Then on from there, so I had some experience that gave me the confidence to proceed Mr Anderson ended up donating the Vessel to the boy scouts, as maintaining the beast was costly
My attitude rubbed some of the clan of Texas boys the wrong way. There was a gaggle of Texas boys that had there own little clique on the deck force and they were the favorites of the chief. However I was about gravitate toward this new BM2 that just transferred to the Glacier just before we got underway. He just came off a buoy tender from Alaska. Those crews earned there pay as that was quite a job lifting up those buoys, scraping all the barnacles and crustaceans off the bottom painting and repair any issues. Jim Clews knew he shit. He was a no nonsense wiry lean sailor. He used to jump in the ocean every day, rain or shine when ashore, watched his diet and he was an avid sport diver. Well we bonded right away over that. I had sent my gear down via greyhound, because the cost of taking it on the airplane was prohibitive. I had all brand knew gear, that my dad finally provided when he relented and handed me the credit card when he realized I was determined to pursue diving as a career, one way or the other, and said go get what you need.
Well Jim saw that I would take our jobs seriously and I was used to working on pleasure yachts, where everything was meticulous and had to be just right for the rich boat owner to show off to his friends, that conflicted with shipboard routine where alot of the work was just invented to keep us busy, and the standards of workmanship were less than ideal. I was adjusting and he helped me by explaining how things went. He also could not stand the Texas boys. They were mostly seaman and a few BM 3rd class. There was only one other BM2 on the deck force, then the chief and the first lieutenant. So even though Jim outranked them they were reluctant to carry out his orders, because they had seniority on the ship and Chief Biel generally backed them up. Well this situation continued for a while until Jim finally had enough. During morning muster after the Chief handed out the work assignments and was getting ready to dismiss the crew Jim piped up and informed the crew that he had something to say. He proceeded to reading the riot act to those subordinates that undermined his authority and gave an accounting of how and why he had those stripes. I could barely contain myself I was so tickled that he gave them a thorough tongue thrashing. When he was done I looked at the Chief and he grudgingly backed up Jim but it was killing him. He had no choice Jim was right and from then on he was my hero, and best friend on that voyage.
So the Deck force was divided in two or 3 factions. The Texas boys and there followers. Jim and me and we recruited a couple of sailors that felt were ok. Then the rest, that did not really stir up to much, regarding deck force politics. I was trying to go to dive school, and by the looks of it, my opposition to the Texas boys was going to make that impossible. The Seaman that got to go was the Chiefs protege and he was being groomed to lead the deck force. Sheritz was a big boy with a booming voice, but he did not appear to me to be much other than the Chiefs pet. He proved that to me when we were unloading the ammo over to a small boat on the side so they could take it ashore before we arrived in port for safety reasons.
So one morning the deck force was ordered to the hanger on the flight deck. Everyone was standing around not sure of what to do. I had no clue, when someone said that he thinks we were suppose to us the pallet jacks to move the ammo out of the hanger, and on tho the flight deck where the crane could lower it over the side onto a small boat. I finally got tired of standing around and grabbed a pallet jack and started stacking the pallets close to the edge of the flight deck. The rest of the crew were unsure of my boldness, but when the brass started showing up they fell in line. So The BM2 was on-site to supervise the crane ops, as the operator lower a cargo net down and expected someone to commence with cargo off loading.
By this time most of the deck force was present on the flight deck, as well as some other interested personnel. The BM2 took charge of the tying the lifting knot and then the load was hoisted off the deck and over the side to the LST standing by tied off to the ship. Well as this load of ammo was lowering down, Seaman Sheritz the future deck force commandant, bumbled and fumbled the load and the ammo went crashing down on the deck of the LST, to Chief Biels embarrassment, as I am sure the first lieutenant and the Captain were watching the operation. Sheritz eventually recovered his manhood sufficiently to guide the remaining pallets to the deck and unhook the load for the crane to continue on to the remaining pallets. Most of the deck force was just standing around watching, which was not unusual, after all this was a military operation. I saw an opening to step up to the plate and assist the BM2 who was distracted by something, so I got in there and tied off the ammo to the cargo net and hooked to the crane. The BM2 looked relieved for the help, and so we just kinda took turns, until the ammo was safely loaded on to the LST. I did'nt think too much of it at the time, I just cant stand standing around doing nothing during an operation. It is kind of the nature of the beast. The military assigns 30 people to do a 2 man job. It was only later, after I passed the seaman's test and had enough time in, and all I needed was the required recommendation from my supervisor to confirm the promotion, which was not forthcoming. So I submitted a chit, requesting that recommendation. Then one morning Chief Biel summoned me and let me know in no uncertain terms that protocol for promotions does not allow a seaman apprentice to request the required recommendation. The recommendation if deserved, is initiated by the supervisor if all other requirements are met. After making it perfectly clear that my actions were improper, he informed me that he would go ahead and approve the promotion to seaman, due to my performance on the flight deck that day.
Which brings me to the 50 caliber machine gun, that I and only 2 others out off 300 something ships company had the privilege to operate, during some practice battle ops. We were close to the equator and the captain decided to drill us at battle stations, for fun really. We were mostly scientific ops, and originally back-up to the Polar Star for the main break-in, although we did have to take that over when the reversible pitch screws the Polar class ships came equipped with, had some bugs to iron out before they became fully operational. Any way when the alarm sounded for battle stations, most of the deck crew had no idea where they were suppose to report. There was a chart located somewhere on the ship that designated battle station assignments. It took sometime for me to locate that, and I thought if we were genuinely under attack, we probably would be on the bottom with Davy Jones locker right now. Well eventually I found my assignment was Gunner and that I was to report to the bridge. I thought how in the hell would they make me a gunner? I was practically blind in my right eye, though I did manage to qualify as marksman on the 45 caliber pistol, in boot camp. I was surprised that a majority of my company did not qualify. I had the disadvantage of having to aim with my good left eye, and I was right handed. So I would have to place my whole face on the opposing side of the weapon, so my left eye would be looking down the sight, so my right hand would pull the trigger. None of this occurred to me at the time. None of my instructors ever noticed how the mechanics of my shooting, was ass backwards, and it was a miracle that I could shoot accurate at all. It especially was painful and frustrating when I would shoot a bow and arrow. When I would release the bow string/ my face received a string burn as it traveled across my face. This stuff only donned on me many years later. So i came to the conclusion that my marksman status was good enough to make me a gunner on USCGC Glacier. I reported to the bridge, and the XO had the throttle controls, repeating back the order "all ahead full aye aye sir, as he clanged the helm messenger. The Glacier was doing donuts around a 50 gallon drum, and the gunner was about 1000 yards away which I found out, was the size of a pea on the ocean. The swell challenged the gunner to time his bursts accordingly, but the splashes of those 50 cal rounds just skipped over the drum. The Brass was having a lot of fun putting that old ice breaker thru its paces. All the sudden the XO, commander Taylor ordered me to replace the helmsman. I got the impression he was not performing up to the standards expected and I was more than happy to make donuts with that massive 300 ft ice breaker around the drum, as I repeated the orders "Right full rudder Aye Aye sir" then immediately followed by "left full rudder" "left full rudder aye aye sir" rudder is left full sir"..and on it went. Then it was my turn to take a crack at it. I was ordered to man the guns, while are lone gunners mate, instructed me how to operate that, what seemed like a cannon. I was taken by the power of that gun. I just touched the trigger and FOOOT ..FOOOT FOOOT FOOOT about 8 rounds splashed the water somewhere in the same time zone at that tiny drum bobbing up and down in the south pacific ocean, They circled around and I tried again, but that speck if I would have hit it would cut it in half. Finally the senior Gunner took my place and they motored up to that drum, until it was right next to the Glacier and he finally nailed it just before the gun jammed. That was the end of the Battle drill, and probably the most fun I had on that voyage.
