| The
Typewriter Klaxon by Everett B. Mauger |
|
While on one of my boats in New London, I
had to replenish my medical supplies late on a Friday and that included alcohol.
I brought them back to the boat threw them into an outboard bunk
locker and left the boat for my home in Gales Ferry. Come Monday and time
to store the supplies, I picked up one of the alcohol cans and it was as light
as a feather, totally empty but the federal seal was in place. Panic, of
course, so back to supply I went with my empty can and intact seal. Needless
to say, I was raked over the coals but also thru some flack into the story so
they replaced the alcohol.
Much later when I was ordered to another boat and was at the after battery ladder saying goodbye, an electrician came up to me about the alcohol and admitted that they had drained it from the bottom with their gyro needle. YAK YAK YAK, we got Doc. They sure did and that hole was never noticed by me or supply. Congratulations you (@#%$&). From the boats shore duty finally graced me and I was assigned to Naval Reserve Training in Sioux City Iowa. After being there only a few days I had to journey to Indiana to represent my family at a funeral. While gone, those stationkeepers (including an electrician again) wired a Klaxon to the well of my typewriter desk. I returned, was sitting in Sick Bay and lost in the thoughts of the recent funeral when that Klaxon went off. Up I stood, looking for the main induction wheel in the after battery to make sure it was shut and locked. (Remember) Then came all of the laughing from the hallway about the boat sailor or did they use the term sewer pipe sailor. Needless to say, that opened the door and I had four years of duty to get even. My best to you all, Everett B. Mauger, emauger@san.rr.com in beautiful San Diego. |
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