Recycling seastories: First day on the boat
another recycle project lifted from the golden rivet
When I first reported to the Seawolf as a nub 3rd class nuc, I didn't know what to expect, but I'd heard all of the stories during the two years in schools before hitting the fleet. You know, how the enlisted puke, wardroom division wasn't as pronounced as it was on the skimmers, how the crew stuck together, and those sorts of things. Well, I met the boat as she was coming in from a post overhaul run to San Diego. Meeting the boat involved getting on a bus at Mare Island, and riding down to Alameda N.A.S., where the boat pulled in for a while before heading up the channel to MINS. We get on board, go through the check in process and were then handed off to a couple of nucs who took us aft. My first exposure to the nucs was that it seemed everyone not on watch in the engineering spaces was clumped together in the stern room, wearing poopie suits and playing with yo-yos. One particularly large and hairy gent wearing brown shoes, khaki belt, and Lcdr. oak leaves on the collar of his poopie suit. He had a whistling yoyo, and the guys were really giving him hell, because he wasn't as proficient as most of the others. Many of the comments I heard told me that I wasn't in Kansas anymore, Toto. Most of them ran the gamut of "hey you fat F******, when are you going to get off of your ass and sign my qual card", or "damned horrible show you're putting on for the newbies, engineer". You get the idea. I knew that submariners were different, but for a third class to give the ship's engineer a red ass was too much to handle. Well, everybody that was anybody seemed to get leave as soon as the boat tied up along side the pier, so I didn't get my welcome aboard speeches from the Capt. or the Eng. for about two weeks. I have to admit a little stupidity on my part, because i saw the eng a couple of times on base, and sucking up to him like a good little newbie, I just didn't understand the look of pain (figured out that it was just an attempt to keep from laughing)that I saw on his face when I went up to say "hello, engineer". As you can guess, during my howdy new guy lecture from the wardroom types when they all came back from leave, I realized that some of the best jokes take a long time to mature.
When I first reported to the Seawolf as a nub 3rd class nuc, I didn't know what to expect, but I'd heard all of the stories during the two years in schools before hitting the fleet. You know, how the enlisted puke, wardroom division wasn't as pronounced as it was on the skimmers, how the crew stuck together, and those sorts of things. Well, I met the boat as she was coming in from a post overhaul run to San Diego. Meeting the boat involved getting on a bus at Mare Island, and riding down to Alameda N.A.S., where the boat pulled in for a while before heading up the channel to MINS. We get on board, go through the check in process and were then handed off to a couple of nucs who took us aft. My first exposure to the nucs was that it seemed everyone not on watch in the engineering spaces was clumped together in the stern room, wearing poopie suits and playing with yo-yos. One particularly large and hairy gent wearing brown shoes, khaki belt, and Lcdr. oak leaves on the collar of his poopie suit. He had a whistling yoyo, and the guys were really giving him hell, because he wasn't as proficient as most of the others. Many of the comments I heard told me that I wasn't in Kansas anymore, Toto. Most of them ran the gamut of "hey you fat F******, when are you going to get off of your ass and sign my qual card", or "damned horrible show you're putting on for the newbies, engineer". You get the idea. I knew that submariners were different, but for a third class to give the ship's engineer a red ass was too much to handle. Well, everybody that was anybody seemed to get leave as soon as the boat tied up along side the pier, so I didn't get my welcome aboard speeches from the Capt. or the Eng. for about two weeks. I have to admit a little stupidity on my part, because i saw the eng a couple of times on base, and sucking up to him like a good little newbie, I just didn't understand the look of pain (figured out that it was just an attempt to keep from laughing)that I saw on his face when I went up to say "hello, engineer". As you can guess, during my howdy new guy lecture from the wardroom types when they all came back from leave, I realized that some of the best jokes take a long time to mature.
posted by bothenook at 17:15
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home