PAGO PAGO (American Somoa)

PAGO PAGO

        Pago Pago was the last Port -o Call for the Glacier on the return trip from Operation Deep Freeze. I was determined to go diving in the tropical paradise and I was flush with cash having just won big playing blackjack. $400 was a lot of money to me at the time, in fact adjusting for inflation about $1500 in today's money.  (see Glacier Casino https://urchinstyle.blogspot.com/2017/08/glacier-casino-i-must-admit-i-had.html)    I booked a room in the nicest hotel on the island, after the big welcoming party the islanders staged for us. Complete with a band and dancing hula girls.

I proceeded to the small boat marina and asked some locals, loitering around some small boats if they could take me out to reef I spotted on the way in. I Showed them some money, they just laughed at me. Frustrated I decided to check out the shallow reef behind the Hotel. It was only 2 or 3 feet deep, but amazing visibility. I snorkeled out about 50 yards ant then all the sudden the reef just dropped off down to 100 plus feet, replete with the tropical fish aquarium scene I had envisioned. The Glacier was not far away so I swam and got my air tank and regulator.. I dropped down to 80 ft very quickly without realizing it was so deep till I looked at my gage. I was not disappointed with the diving experience.

           That evening I was walking towards one of the 2 bars I was aware of and I chased a huge bull frog I stumbled upon, soon realizing there were dozens of them everywhere. I came upon some tennis courts and smelled the distinct smell of marijuana. I heard some low muffled voices. Being 19 and not unfamiliar with the then illegal weed with a pocket full of money, I approached the group of local natives and offered them $10, if they could share. They laughed and reluctantly agreed. I noticed that one of the natives was a member of the welcoming band that performed for us, as the Glacier pulled in the docking facilities. I was trying to make conversation and asked if they had heard of Mau Tuiasosopho or Manu Tatupu, a couple of Samoan NFL football players I was aware. They said they had and knew the whole family. They then went on about some of history of the island and how it was once a german protectorate and the role it played in WW11. They also mentioned that they had found left over ordinance in some caves up in the hills.

         The front entrance of the bar was visible from our vantage point and all of a sudden some of my shipmates came flying out of the front, and Islanders started apearring out of the hills with clubs and I realized it was a bar room brawl between the locals and my shipmates. I was not inclined to get involved in the action, as I was at a disadvantage, as I had not that much liquid courage in me, and my former smoking companions giving me the stink eye. I nervously thanked my companions and made my way back to the hotel. I ordered a expensive meal and was looking forward to the luxurious queen size bed in the room I had booked. A strangle but not unattractive female sat down at my table and in a low voice propositioned me. I realized that the girl in front of me was really a guy and declined the offer.

         At that momenta BM2 with a Shore Patrol insignia on his arm entered the Hotel and said “Thomas we have been looking all over for you. Liberty is canceled, the locals attacked some crew members at the bar and some of them are hurt, get in the truck now!”

         That was the end of my Pago Pago experience. I heard later the fight was over a girl (of course) there were cuts and bruises, but nothing too serious. I was just fuming at the thought of paying all that money for the hotel room and I never got to stay.

Diving Sydney

       Sydney, Australia    

     The Glacier was due to arrive at Sydney harbor and I was so excited.  We sailed right passed the opera house, and I was anxious to go on liberty.
        I knew I would have only 5 days, in Sydney and I wanted to travel to The Great Barrier Reef.  From what I had read and seen on TV, diving on that famous reef would be spectacular and since I had the opportunity I just had to try.  I looked on a map and tried to make the logistics work so I could have at least 1 day of diving. 800 miles was a long way to travel with only 5 days and I just could nor swing it.  So I wandered around Sydney looking for a dive shop.  In those days we had to    use those cumbersome telephone books, and fold 
up street maps.
     I found one and I walked in and announced to the staff that I had just sailed in on that big red Icebreaker in the harbor and I was determined to go diving somewhere in Australia, if I could not fufill my dream dive on the Great Barrier Reef.  Much to my surprise one of the staff replied that they were headed out right at that moment to Thompsons bay, just up the coast from Bondi Beach. I asked if they could wait for me to take a cab back to the ship to retrieve my gear.  They insisted I did not have time and instructed me to just go ahead and pick my wet-suit and gear from there rental stock and so I did and off we went. I was very pleased with myself that my timing had been right on and I was not disappointed with the dive spot they chose that actually was adjacent to a clothing optional beach.  I was happy to finish my dive with a great view of that heavenly scene as the Aussie girls just seemed so attractive and had little inhibition, unlike American girls, and were very comfortable fully naked basking in the sun, on the flat rocks of Thompsons Bay.  It was not the Great Barrier Reef but the experience was well worth my efforts. As I came out of the water a group of my companions was gathered, having a great laugh and I wondered what was so funny.  They just pointed at me so I looked down and I had inadvertently, in my haste to pick out a suit grabbed a female top, complete with breasts.  The Aussies found that quite amusing.  I did not care they just took me on the dive of my life and the scenery after was well worth the embarrassment and ridicule I received.  They sent me on my way and did not even charge me for the rental on the gear

Escape from Santa Barbara Island

                 Rescued from Santa Barbara Island


      Santa Barbara Island is a tiny speck about halfway between Channel Islands and Santa Catalina Is.  It is generally warmer water and divers can enjoy better visibility, than the northern Channel Islands.  Those conditions however also require diving deeper as the shallower urchins tend to have less quality.  One of the main features on the lee side of the island is a sea lion population that resides in an area known as the seal slide.  The rocks have been worn smooth over time as the sea lions enter the water on the incline.  When they are absent the slide is a dominant feature, in the anchorage.  The noise is deafening when they are present, there incessant barking sounds like Old Blue, the bloodhound that ran himself to death, chasing the scent of Paul Newman after one of his escapes.Some of you older folks might remember the motion picture Cool Hand Luke who was locked up on  the chain gang in the deep south.Well magnify that sound times a hundred and thats what the sea lions sound like times a thousand. If that was not enough when the wind is right the smell is nauseating,

      When diving in the area the sea lions are curious, playful, mischievous and annoying. They are unavoidable.  I have had them pull on my hose, charge me at full speed, just to pull up at the last moment, and I could of swore I heard laughter, when I reacted.  They bite on my fins, and one stole a fish I had on the end of my spear.  At night they are all under and around the boat and there antics create trails of phosphorus illumination. The patterns of the trails are beautiful and awe inspiring. I finally quit giving them any eye contact at all, they would eventually tire of harassing me, if I did not look at them, but every once in a while it was difficult not to play with the pups who were the most excited by our presence, and just adorable. I even quit that after a mother cow charged me baring her teeth. Maybe twice my size, that event shook me up like no other, during my 25 year commercial diving career. Giant Black Sea Bass, moray eels and Garibaldi seem to be more prevalent than in the northern Channel Islands as well.
     The National Park Service has a presence there.  One year that single Park Ranger came out and boarded us for a License and compliance check.  My impression was that he was just lonely and wanted someone to talk to.  He half hardheartedly checked us for regulations compliance and I noticed he was not wearing any socks, which endeared him to me immediately.  He said he stays in an old Quonset hut for an extended period of time, and he was not trying to make it look glamorous or romantic.  I think it was the highlight of his week to come out and check us out.
      There is more bottom around the 1 mile square Island than dry land, on  the island itself.  It is also a little of a gamble diving there, because if your not finding urchins, no where else to go unless you hauled enough fuel to get to St. Nicolas Is.  Another drawback is the ride home is generally into the prevailing weather, which can make for a long miserable voyage if it picks up too much
      So I decided to make a voyage out to SB Island on my vessel Longfin. I knew of an area I could pick some good quality sea urchins and they should be ripe about that time. Johnny Goomer  RIP the diver, that I had on the boat agreed, and we had heard that one of the boats we communicated with regularly was heading out there as well. Now Johnny was a good natured soul, built very slight but his forearms had the hardened appearance that turning wrenches on seized up bolts over the years would create. He had spent 10 years in Federal Prison for agreeing to crew a vessel that was engaged in ferrying out to a cargo vessel and returning to shore with contraband.  Then the worst sin of all ...getting caught.  Johnny had started out working in the processing plant, cracking urchins at first, then moving around to other duties at the plant.  He seized on an opportunity to try diving on the Hey Jude with John Gilsinger, and he was in.

        When I was active duty Small Boat Station Channel Islands Harbor, I did a lot of sea rescues, but none like the one that occurred on the Longfin that trip.  I knew the sea urchins were in tight, up against the cliffs, on the weather side, but it was nice enough to go in tight, that day and since  it was late in the day, I was excited about getting anchored quickly so we could take advantage of the rare conditions. Now Johnny was a good enough diver when he was sober,which was not often, but a great wrench turner. He could remove and replace with the best of em, and small enough so he could climb all around my engine room. Leaving late was a mistake. Upon arrival, I urged him to throw the hook and fast, as I was trying to negotiate the Longfin in between  the wash rocks and  anchor right on top of the urchins. Instead he wanted to argue with me 'well Mike were kinda close.......and uh....."' and all that second guessing me at the wrong time. Furious, I left the wheel and threw the anchor over myself. Johnny almost fell overboard, cig in one hand and beer in the other. Me and Johnny were friends, I knew him 30 years, but I was apoplectic. I told him he was cut off from the beer and he was going to have to sleep on deck, then I kicked a bucket that barely missed him. I am screaming at him, as I jumped in and picked a couple quick bags, i wanted to get to the anchorage with some light left, because I was not very familiar with the  anchorage, at that end of the island. As we were motoring toward the anchorage a Coast Guard helicopter flew overhead. I said to Johnny "here's your chance call them up and get a ride home" I did not think he would actually Do it!!! But he did ..he got on the radio.. "hes gonna kill me" and  any other lie he could think of" Well when we anchored up, I noticed the PEACE was in the anchorage.  The Peace was an old commercial sport dive boat, that had been around a long time.  I was familiar with her as one of my first sea rescues was when the PEACE had capsized down the coast around Deer Creek, some 25 years ago. I was in a supporting role as the 41 footer crews plucked the survivors out of the water and ferried them to the station, I would assist those that needed it, getting them to a warm dry spot and providing hot coffee. So it was a little more than ironic that the roles were reversed, when the Coast Guard had the  skipper of the Peace send a dinghy over and retrieve Johnny. I was happy he was gone but, they told me to stand by while they sent out the 87 foot CG patrol Boat  Halibut. They left Marina del Ray.and they boarded me a couple hours later suited and booted...about 6 of them. They searched my boat looking for something I did not have, for 3 hours asked me a bunch of questions. I told him he disobeyed a direct order in a dangerous situation and was drunk on duty, and I never touched him, although the bucket may have grazed his leg. They finally let me go. Next morning 2 of my diver buddies on the Resurgance Pat Macallion and Dave Garland came motoring around the point. They were laughing there asses off as they heard the play by play on the marine radio, live as it happen. I mentioned I was happy they were entertained.  I  learned from that experience that I should think twice before hiring any of my friends. They took Johnny in on Marina del Ray on the Halibut, and he had to hitch a ride home.  From what I heard the Coast Guardsman were not to helpful or friendly.   I had a very peaceful day diving the next day.   Did not make a lot of money, but I was free of the insubordination, and that was well worth it.

Wellington stowaway and big bugs

During Operation Deep Freeze, The USCGC Glacier landed for fuel and supplies at one of our ports-o- call, Wellington, New Zealand. I was, at that time a sport diver, and I brought my gear aboard. It was imperative for me to seek diving opportunities at the ports I visited and Wellington was no exception. I scoured the town looking for dive shops to no avail. I finally spotted a scuba tank in a sporting goods store and questioned the employee behind the cash register about possible dive shops where I might find a dive charter. I explained who I was, but it was fairly obvious with the Glacier pulling up in the harbor and a bunch of young men with American accents swarming the downtown area. He said there just were not any, but he gave me the phone number of the President of a local dive club. I contacted Ron and he was very friendly and curious about America and Americans. He arranged a dive, and I recruited another diver from the ship to go along, and Ron came and picked us up. We arrived at a boat ramp where a fleet of 10-12 16 ft ski-boats I would call them, was preparing to launch. The Armada made way several miles off shore, when the lead boat began throwing an anchor overboard, after they had lined up some landmarks, near and far in two directions. The old school way of finding a reef that was a desirable lobster spot. That was the mission we found out bagging spiny lobster, similar to the California species, no claws. After several attempts to find the reef, (the anchor line was marked at the depth of the known reef and if the anchor failed to catch at that depth, they would try again.) There was about a 3 knot current, so once the anchor caught, the remaining boats in the fleet just tied off to each other. The reef started at about 90 feet, so this was no joke, I got the feeling the Kiwis were trying to impress us with their macho dive, but after I finally pulled myself down to the bottom with the anchor line, I barely had enough air to look under a couple rocks, so I really was not very happy. Ron could see my displeasure and took us to a shallower easy spot which was cool. I will say one of the club members caught the biggest lobster I had ever seen before or since. Standing holding the tail, the antennae touched the ground, a dinosaur. After the day Ron invited us to his home where his wife and kids were getting ready for dinner, and we had lamb stew (of course) After Dinner he asked a lot of questions about the States and was proud of his record collection where the Rock-n-Roll he played was The New Christy Minstrels, I didn't have the heart to protest. Ron was very gracious and drove us back to the ship, without even charging us for the outing. My diving experience notwithstanding, I was preoccupied with the girls of Wellington. They seemed very attractive and very attracted to us. Being the conservative cultured girls they were, they resisted being blatantly obvious regarding the former. At least for the most part. Denise Sheehan more or less picked me. She would just sit with me at the various bars, clubs and restaurants we frequented, not saying too much, but always seemed quite content to be in my presence. She followed me everywhere, not that I objected, she was 17, of Lebanese decent and very attractive. She came from a traditional Catholic family, and had done some modeling and was pursuing a career as an airline stewardess. She still lived at home with her parents, so finding a private spot was a little challenging, but she managed to persuade her friend to allow us to use their bedroom. My experience in this area was limited, so when my attempts resulted in cries of pain, I withdrew, as I did not want to hurt her. When I relayed that experience to some of my shipmates, they laughed and ordered me to "close the deal" insisting that "size" could not possibly impede me from the task at hand. They threatened to leave me in Wellington unless I was successful. Not that that would be a bad thing, but I would have some "splaynin to do", when I was caught. Meanwhile when I was not spending my time with Denise, some of my buddies met these " less than savory" girls that were convinced that we were going to stow them away, in the ship for our 5 day voyage to Sydney Australia. I found it hard to believe these very attractive girls were going to sell us their bodies for passage to Sydney. However during the tour of the ship we were giving them, they made it clear that they were only going to "pay" just me and my two shipmates. I felt a little troubled that they got the impression that many more than us would be involved. We showed them after cargo which was about 5 levels down in the bowels of the ship, where they would be kept, hidden from the officers as they rarely ventured down there. We explained they would have to wear appropriate attire, as they were really, dressed up during the tour. Mainly jeans and some foul weather clothing. It was not my intention to actual carry out this ruse, at least not the part where we would actually have to follow thru with "our " end of the bargain. I cant really say if my shipmates were on the same page, regarding that serious violation of the Universal Code of Military Justice. I was only half halfheartedly part of the conspiracy, since Denise was "waiting in the wings " I suppose the girls had good reason to expect a successful voyage as, the previous year a girl actually made it all the way to Seattle aboard the Polar Star, before they were found out, and she was quiclkly deported. Scuttlebut never did reveal what the consequences were for the perpetrators. It just so happen this particular individual was identified, and her picture was posted aboard ship, with strict orders to avoid. Apparently she was not deterred in her efforts as she was seen (by me and others) strolling the dock. Ironically some 30+ years later I ran into a Coast Guard Veteran who happen to serve duty on the Polar Star.. When I relayed the story to him about the stowaway, he informed me that there is a plaque displayed aboard the Polar Star commemorating the event.. He also said that apparently this girl ended up being a very successful physician, after sowing her wild oats, that will forever be part of the Icebreaker lore. * As for our potential stowaways we conveniently gave the girls a later departure time that left them in Wellington. I felt a little guilt about the whole thing, but that went away when I was successful with Denise and I did not have to return to the ship a failure. She was very keen on marriage, but I was so young I was not sure, but I did tell her one day, that on my return trip the following year ( tour of duty was normally 2 trips south) if she still felt the same way, I would marry her. Oh my God! she started telling her parents all her friend, they were celebrating popping champagne bottles, congratulations, the works. I said to myself uh oh, what did I do? As it turned out, directly after our voyage completed the Glacier was due for Todd Shipyards in San Pedro for overhaul, dry dock....misery, if you happened to live on the ship which I did. If it was not for the fire watches, which consisted of crawling into a small hot space with little ventilation with a union welder, while he went about his welding task , I might have resigned myself to suffer the violation and indignity of having union welders and workers sleeping in the enlisted mans day room. Not to mention the noise smoke dust and overall torturous living conditions. But all those put together, I was looking for a way out. Divine intervention saved me, at least that was my go-to explanation for the events that were about to transpire. One day I was informed by the senior chief petty officer that Small Boat Station Channel Islands Harbor had an opening for a full Seaman. He announced the opportunity to the deck force and I thought to myself 'this is my way out' Looking back, in more ways than one, as that my "engagement" would be in jeopardy as well. One other seaman was interested as he was from the area, about 50 miles north of San Pedro, in Oxnard. The Chief decided the choice would be made with a coin flip. My destiny was sealed when I saw the head of George Washington on the quarter in his hand. *After submitting this story and posting it to my blog, I received an anonymous comment, revealing to me the name of the stowaway I mentioned above. Dr. Lauren Roche. Before I continue about the good Dr. I want to add that have no idea why the anonymous person that revealed the doctors identity to the comment section of this blog entry, would wish to remain anonymous. I replied with several theories, not to the identity of the individual, but where this person would come upon the information that only a small group of people could have known about (That turned out to be an erroneous assumption, as will become clear in a moment) I received no response and the person is still a mystery. I did a Google search and found the whereabouts of Dr Roche. I emailed her with my story and inquired if she indeed was the stowaway I wrote about. Her e mails follows www.laurenkimroche.com www.laurenkimroche.com Hello, Mike Yes. It’s me. I wrote my story in the book ‘Bent Not Broken’ and am just beginning to write the screenplay for a proposed movie of the same name. I always wore clothes under my coat J I’m an author now, have a novel with an agent and another with a mentor. Life is good. Lovely to hear from you. I’m happy for you to use my name. Bent Not Broken is out o0f print, though can be bought second hand on many Kiwi sites – Trademe is a good one. I’ll reprint if the movie goes ahead, Best wishes, Lauren PS There is a plaque on the Polar Star, will hunt out a pic of it when I’m home, am at work in my General Practice at the moment. Lauren RocheJune 17, 2019 at 2:39 PM Hello. I am Dr Lauren Roche and can confirm I am the woman you write about. I didn't go aboard any ship naked under a coat though :-) I can think of one or two of my acquaintances that might have done so. My story is told in my autobiographical book Bent Not Broken. If you can track down a copy you might enjoy the read, Laurem www.laurenkimroche.com :-) ReplyDelete Lauren RocheJune 17, 2019 at 2:41 PM also, I managed to hitchhike around the USA for 3 months before being caught, spending two nights sleeping on the Glacier as I passed through Long Beach. All those years ago. :-) I don't know how close Bushroad Co NZ is to the resort, but I'll recommend it to the Dr, and perhaps she will meet a fellow urchin diver for an appropriate ending to this bizarre tale. at June 15, 2017 Email ThisBlogThis!Share to TwitterShare to FacebookShare to Pinterest 5 comments: UnknownJune 13, 2019 at 3:56 AM Dr Lauren Roche is her name !!! ReplyDelete Replies Michael ThomasJune 13, 2019 at 5:44 AM Now how in hell could you know that??? If you dont want to reveal your identity, you could at least give me some kind of generic scenario that would explain how you would have that information. I suppose I could make a guess. You were probably stationed aboard the Polar Star, during that time, or were the spouse of a crew member. I am thinking you were an Officer,and fraternizing with enlisted personnel, is verboten, or were among the guilty crew members who pulled it off.Either way I am a little disappointed that we could not connect and compare notes Delete Reply Michael ThomasJune 13, 2019 at 5:40 PM I shared the story with a friend and she said only 1 person could have sent that comment......Thank You Doctor ReplyDelete Lauren RocheJune 17, 2019 at 2:39 PM Hello. I am Dr Lauren Roche and can confirm I am the woman you write about. I didn't go aboard any ship naked under a coat though :-) I can think of one or two of my acquaintances that might have done so. My story is told in my autobiographical book Bent Not Broken. If you can track down a copy you might enjoy the read, Laurem www.laurenkimroche.com :-) ReplyDelete Lauren RocheJune 17, 2019 at 2:41 PM also, I managed to hitchhike around the USA for 3 months before being caught, spending two nights sleeping on the Glacier as I passed through Long Beach. All those years ago. :-) ReplyDelete