| Resident
Expert by Robert "Dex" Armstrong |
|
In 1959 when I was a freshly minted Sub School grad....so damn salty, I
had, "When it rains, it pours" embroidered in the cuffs of my blues. I was in the SEA
detail, stationed on the anchor pelican hook below the walking deck up near the bear trap.
We had put all lines over....as a mitigating circumstance, there was all sorts of noise topside. I heard the word ANCHOR yelled down to me from topside. I did not hear it preceded by the word SECURE.
During the course of this convivial interlude, it was explained to me how to engage the gear that would bring the chain up from its' new location....three links at a time, so that they could be hosed off. You see...two miles of anchor chain has a nasty habit of burying itself in what is technically known in the trade as ANCHORAGE OOZE... the slimy crap that lives in the water next to DesSub Piers, Norfolk. While my shipmates were sucking suds at Bells....And the Topside Watch couldn't stop laughing...I brought up five or six links at a time then ran to the hose on the Pier and hosed it off. It took a couple of hours, but I got all the links sparkling clean and back snug in their beds...and I went down and hopped in my dress canvas and headed over. When I got to Bells, got a pitcher and found a place at a table with my shipmates... some goddam Engineman off the REDFIN came rolling through the door and yelled, "Boys and Girls.... you'll never guess what some idiot bastard on REQUIN did." And God bless him...John T. O'Niel, hollered back..."The Old Man wanted to wash down the goddam anchor chain, you stupid sonuvabitch. How long you been in this mans Navy? You never heard of the old custom of sloshing your anchor chain during a 'first night in' battery charge? If I was as wet behind the ears as you obviously are, damned if I wouldn't keep my goddam mouth shut." Then he winked at me..."Kid. the only guys who have the right to ride your hip pockets are your shipmates...that's another old custom." And they did... forever... and ever. We once anchored off Bermuda and I was called topside... and the Old Man let me drop the bastard...because (his words) I was his "Resident Expert". DEX |
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The anchor was my big job...I didn't want anyone to question my ability or reaction time...so I yanked the pelican hook
release... and listened to what had to be two miles of anchor chain rattle out and make its' way to the bottom of Pier 22. Then I got an unscheduled visit with my
COB... the first of many intimate moments we were to share. I remember such endearing terms as "Stupid Goddam Sonuvabitch" and "Where in the hell did we find an A.H. like you?" It was kinda love at first sight.