how do we get our nicknames?
i posted about the unfortunate turn of events when pud was left unattended in the engineroom.
well, how the hell does someone end up with a nick like pud? we had a pinky. because he once said he could kick all of our asses at once, and not use anything more than his pinky. and of course, we had "BIG". bolding intended. because he was a BIG sombich.
here's a shot of BIG holding, pinky tacking on my dolphins, and me grinning and bearing it.
and just for size comparisons, here's pinky and me in the engineroom. i'm 5'10", pinky is huge, but BIG was a couple inches bigger than pinky. submariners.
don't you just love those black plastic navy birth control glasses?
so anyway. why did pud get called pud? he didn't start out as pud. he was FNG. for you non-military types, that would be fucking new guy.
we were scheduled to get underway at O dark early, but things didn't work out. that wasn't unusual on the ustafish. as a matter of fact, we were a couple days late getting underway.
why is that important?
the supply officer and the chief cook would draw up the menus for the coming month, and stuck to them pretty religiously. and when we got underway, they would try to keep the greasy fried foods, or really odious dishes off the menu. that works. unless you get underway 3 days late, and the menu has sliders, fried shrimp, and chili. you saw the old timers eat very sparingly at lunch. and they warned everyone else. but pud, well, that boy liked to eat. he liked to eat a lot. so he did. a lot. of everything.
i don't know how many of you have travelled out the golden gate, but there is a stretch of water known as the potato patch. it's reputedly the roughest stretch of coastal water on the western seaboard.
and it lived up to its name.
pretty soon, there was a line to the heads. the newbies were discovering the old timers weren't so stupid after all. and poor pud, he left little puddles of semi-digested lunch everywhere. he really tried to hold on until he could get to the head. he really did. but the hydraulic pressure overcame the force exerted by his now very weakened fingers covering his mouth.
so he became puddles. later shortened to pud.
so, any interesting nicks on your boat(s) worthy of a story?
well, how the hell does someone end up with a nick like pud? we had a pinky. because he once said he could kick all of our asses at once, and not use anything more than his pinky. and of course, we had "BIG". bolding intended. because he was a BIG sombich.
here's a shot of BIG holding, pinky tacking on my dolphins, and me grinning and bearing it.
and just for size comparisons, here's pinky and me in the engineroom. i'm 5'10", pinky is huge, but BIG was a couple inches bigger than pinky. submariners.
don't you just love those black plastic navy birth control glasses?
so anyway. why did pud get called pud? he didn't start out as pud. he was FNG. for you non-military types, that would be fucking new guy.
we were scheduled to get underway at O dark early, but things didn't work out. that wasn't unusual on the ustafish. as a matter of fact, we were a couple days late getting underway.
why is that important?
the supply officer and the chief cook would draw up the menus for the coming month, and stuck to them pretty religiously. and when we got underway, they would try to keep the greasy fried foods, or really odious dishes off the menu. that works. unless you get underway 3 days late, and the menu has sliders, fried shrimp, and chili. you saw the old timers eat very sparingly at lunch. and they warned everyone else. but pud, well, that boy liked to eat. he liked to eat a lot. so he did. a lot. of everything.
i don't know how many of you have travelled out the golden gate, but there is a stretch of water known as the potato patch. it's reputedly the roughest stretch of coastal water on the western seaboard.
and it lived up to its name.
pretty soon, there was a line to the heads. the newbies were discovering the old timers weren't so stupid after all. and poor pud, he left little puddles of semi-digested lunch everywhere. he really tried to hold on until he could get to the head. he really did. but the hydraulic pressure overcame the force exerted by his now very weakened fingers covering his mouth.
so he became puddles. later shortened to pud.
so, any interesting nicks on your boat(s) worthy of a story?
posted by bothenook at 21:18
5 Comments:
This is a No S****r
So there I was in San Dog, going to work on morning. And those of you that have been in SD know Rose Crans (where the right lane turns up the hill and the left lane continues down towards Point Loma at the last stop light).
A person wearing Khakis was driving a Corvette in the right lane and blew threw the intersection and tried to “muscle” in at the last minute (I drove a rather large CJ-5 Jeep©). He kept point at my lane and I was kept “communicating” with my middle finger.
He would point and I would “Communicate”. This kept repeating until I started pointing ahead of him.
For about 15 seconds he would point and I would point ahead of him……..Until he ass-ended a parked pickup (DOH!).
So later that day, I had to go see the Squadron 3 CMC for some reason lost in time, and he told me about the LT that was “Ran off the road by some guy in a Jeep”!
So I told the story the story of what really happened and the CMC busted a gut and said follow me. The next thing I know, I’m recounting the story to the Commodore. CSS3 response: “ Chief, You are a rotten Rat Bastard”
After that, I have been called Rat Bastard (I’m still called and know as Rat Bastard by most of the Chiefs in Pearl).
Rat Bastard
I was in the rack at the time, so I never got the details, but our Nav called one of the ETs a buttplug one day. (This was back in the day when all the ETs, nav and ESM, were in the same division.) Said ET was known as "Plug" the rest of his time on board.
RM1(SS) (ret)
BIG Martin was really big. He always used to boast that fat was the best natural protection against zoomies, and he wanted the best protection possible. I haven't thought of him in years, hope he's doing well. I got to know him well because I mess cooked for virtually the whole '76 summer run. He never missed a meal or a movie.
My favorite Seawolf character didn't have a nickname. His real name was like a nickname, when people spoke of him they said it like one word, RickyRios. He was always smiling or laughing. Always ready to lend a hand or break into an impromptu dance.
The utilies he wore were undisputedly the oldest, most faded aboard. I don't know where he got them, they had to be as old as he was. On duty days, during the interminable evenings, he could often be found sitting up by the bullnose with the nonrated members of the deck gang, spitting into the Napa, watching the minnows school, as the Sun set over Mare Island.
Ethnic sailors were rare on the Seawolf. It was even rarer for a cholo boy to end up as a 1st Class nuke machinist mate. He didn't have a problem with it and neither did anyone else. As far as I know, everybody liked him. When the Captain cruised through the mess deck, he often stopped to exchange a jocular word with Ricky. Even Ltjg. Clovis Elmer Manley found no fault with him, which may have been unique.
holy smokes! a real live seawolf sailor. that i went to sea with! dude, you HAVE got to email me.
and rickyjoe rios was not only the coolest, he was also "The Dude". that's all the nukes ever called him. i drove all over portland oregon with him in 74. we were both sent to the sperry, in the yards. from there, i was sent to the boat, and rickyjoe followed suit about 4 weeks later. they needed elts big time. otherwise, i would have languished for a couple more weeks up north.
rickyjoe rios, son of an american diplomat, surfer dude, and navy nuke went to work for a company that used submarines (3 and 4 man) for research. he died in the early eighties from testicular cancer. one hell of a sad day.
he is the one that taught me how to not be seasick in engineroom lower level. he's say "dude, just pretend you are surfing" and then he'd bend his knees, throw out his arms to balance,and rode the waves in the bilges.
it always worked
Well we were going through an overhaul at PSNS in '77 on the USS England, CG22 and I was a newbee. I brought my old coveralls, an old stained white set. I was crawling through the bilges with wrenches in both hands heading for the next valve to pull.
ON the upper level MM2 Chad Mulock looked down and saw me down there and said "Johnson, you look like a slug crawling around down there". The others agreed. And by unanamous decree I became not just a but "The Slug".
MM2 Slug
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