In my previous article, I described two tense days in 1967 when a Soviet submarine was hunted wildly in the Strait of Gibraltar. I am a low-level sailor, serving on the USS Starnaker-this is the Killing class destroyer I sailed during World War II for two years. Now I want to describe some of our other high seas adventures and our lives on the destroyer in those days.
A warship like Steinack will never be left unattended or completely powered off. Walking around on the ship, you will always notice the noise of the machinery and the powerful exhaust fans that exhaust hot air from the depths of the ship’s engineering space. You can always feel the tiny vibrations, as if the ship is still alive, and to some extent it does. The ship is powered by high-pressure superheated steam produced by two large boilers, which are heated by a thick, foul-smelling oil called marine fuel.
The boiler is placed in their own space. When I was a new crew member, I visited the boiler house. I remember a crew member leaning over to the steam line and touching the cigarette to the line to light it. The heat in that compartment is very high-up to 150 degrees in some areas. The inlet end of the exhaust fan is in the boiler room, you can stand under them and try to cool down. The steam is piped to the nacelle, where it turns two turbines and possibly other equipment such as generators. Then send it back to the boiler room for reheating.
What we usually think of as steam is actually water vapor suspended in steam. Steam is a dry, colorless gas. When you heat water to the boiling point, it changes from liquid to gas and produces steam, but it does not contain much energy. If you lower the temperature slightly, it will change from a dry gas back to a liquid again. In order for steam to be useful, the energy needs to be greatly increased by increasing the temperature and pressure. In this way, it can release a huge amount of energy while turning the turbine, and still maintain a dry gas state.
USS Steinaker, its bow is soaked-this is normal.
The ship produces 60,000 horsepower through two steam pipes about 6 inches in diameter. It is difficult to focus your attention on the power of high-pressure superheated steam. You can't see the steam. This makes leakage extremely dangerous. The leak creates a huge white steam cloud in the compartment, but the actual steam leak may be a few feet away because the white cloud only forms when the steam cools and the water starts to change from a gaseous state to tiny droplets.
When looking for steam leaks, people in the boiler room were taught to wave their broomsticks in front of them as they slowly approached the possible source. When they waved the broom in front of the leak, it would cut off all the bristles, leaving a stump at the end of the pole.
Today, U.S. Navy destroyers are powered by large gas turbine engines—like the engines you might see on large passenger planes, but they are designed to turn shafts instead of generating thrust. The gas turbine takes up much less space, and the ship should be able to start from a cold start faster than a ship that must start the boiler and slowly produce steam. The cost of running a gas turbine-powered ship must be impressive. Marine fuel is cheap, but jet fuel is not cheap.
Obviously, in the past five years, everything on the destroyer has changed—propulsion, weapon systems, sensors, navigation, and communications. But some things did not. The mission of projecting power and protecting sea lanes remains unchanged, and the destroyer is still sailing to the same destination as ours.
The ocean remains the same, and the Navy still faces the same design problem-how to pack a large number of sailors into a relatively small ship?
In the picture above, Steinaker is sailing on a calm sea at a moderate speed. I spent half of the two years at Steinaker, living in the front berthing compartment, which is located on the bow of the ship where the word "863" is painted. In bad weather, the bow keeps rising (as shown in the photo), then sinks into the next wave, usually completely submerged. Tons of water rolled across the deck, violently hit the front gun mount, and then was thrown into the air, landing on the top of the 03 floor where the bridge and the combat information center (CIC) are located.
Sea conditions are described using Beaufort scale, from 0 to 12. In the picture, I want to say that this may be 3 on the scale, which may be an extension. The following is a description of sea conditions 3 and 12 for comparison:
My point is that destroyers can be rough ships even in calm conditions, but why do I mention sea state 12? Because when I was on the boat, Steinaker experienced a hurricane. Ships usually do not sail into the center of a hurricane, but the path of a hurricane is difficult to predict, and Steinaker is not the first ship to relocate to avoid a hurricane, just to make the storm change course and knock it down.
In our case, I remember when we learned that the hurricane was intensifying and was heading towards us, I was tied to a small jetty in Key West. When a big storm hit, the ship didn't want to sink into shallow or restricted waters, so we headed east to get some sea space, but unexpectedly turned east and rolled us over.
I remember that the anemometer in Combat (Combat Information Center, or CIC) hovered around 75 knots and occasionally peaked at around 100 knots. Honestly, I don't remember the big deal. Of course, that was more than 50 years ago, and I remembered the definition of "good past"-good imagination and bad memory. Maybe when I was trapped in a windowless compartment, listening to tons of water falling on us and holding on to our precious lives, I felt scared.
All CIC chairs have seat belts for a reason!
We have a public address system called 1MC on board. I just googled it and found that "MC" is short for "Main Circuit". In any case, it’s very common to hear such a voice, "Listen to this now. When maneuvering at high speed on the rough sea, keep all hands away from the open deck." I took this photo with my small Minox camera and showed it Why should you heed this warning:
Enjoy the view of the sea from Steinaker in bad weather.
This photo is a typical photo in my memory-the sea is always gray, and so is the sky. The only time I saw blue water in two years was during a short trip in Guantanamo Bay, Cuba. The water in the bay is beautiful, with white sand at the bottom-that was another visit. …
We have 21 people living in the front berth, which is the size of the living room of an ordinary apartment. Everyone has a shelf composed of a tubular aluminum frame with a canvas board inside. Above the canvas is a thin mattress with a "butt bag" inside, like a big pillowcase.
The shelves are stacked three high and lined up in a row. Some rows are independent, while others are connected to the bulkhead. I'm in the middle of the upper and lower shelves. This is a bonus, because when I was thrown off the shelf in a storm and landed on the deck, I was unlikely to break my neck.
One of my racks is hinged to the bulkhead, and the outside is secured in place with chains at each end. When I lie on my back with my elbow beside me, I can touch the top man’s mattress with my fingers.
There is a high-pressure steam line between me and the bulkhead, extending from the boiler room to the engine room. It is insulated with asbestos and is about six inches in diameter. At my feet is a small fan. At night, when I try to fall asleep, I occasionally stretch my waist and stick my toes into the fan.
Similar to the docks found on Gearing class destroyers
Below the bottom shelf is a small locker where we store all the items. If the bottom shelf is occupied, you will not be able to reach the locker. This happens often because we are not all in the same duty zone-half are on duty and the other half are sleeping. Therefore, depending on your needs, you may continue to watch and put your little "flush kit" or a paperback book on the shelf. Our person in charge will visit our compartment regularly to collect any loose items he can find and lock them in the lockers he requisitioned. Liquidation takes place once a week, and every item he collects gives us two hours of extra working time.
We quickly caught up to the Secretary's schedule-the liquidation always takes place on Fridays, so every Thursday we just knock out the hinge pins from his locker, redistribute the items he confiscated, and then replace the hinge pins. The head is not a fool. He quickly figured out our plan and added a second padlock. He insisted that the lights in the compartment were always on during the day and that towels or other items could not be hung on the shelves above to block the light. Everyone loves him, and we all enjoy his little torture. Eventually, the police officer noticed that some of us seemed to have a bad attitude, but I digressed...
Imagine being exhausted from watching for a long time and desperately trying to sleep. In bad weather, the bow will move about 15 feet up and down when sailing in waves. The first second you were pressed on your shelf because the bow was rising on the side of the wave, and the next second, when the bow fell into a trough, you were floating in the air. The only way to prevent you from being thrown on the deck from the shelf is to sleep on your stomach and wrap your arms and legs around the shelf like a spider.
Each shelf has some straps that you can use to tie yourself, but no one seems to like those. You can also ask a boatmate to tilt your shelf up and shorten the chain so that you are caught in it, but you can't get out by yourself, which may be a big problem.
In addition to these layers of pain, we also need to add the sound of the entire cabin continuously entering the water and the noise of sonar, which are not far from us. In fact, after a while I found that the sonar was quiet. About once every five seconds, it makes a sound that you can hear in every submarine war movie you have ever seen. Because my frame is resting on the bulkhead, I can hear the echo of sonar pulses and echoes.
At some point in my two years, I was also assigned to live in a berth at the stern. That is infinitely good, without continuous up and down movement, and at the far end of the ship from the sonar dome.
So far, I have been complaining about normal daily physical pain and discomfort. Now I want to talk about the storm! You might ask yourself, what is he complaining about now? I am sure that the destroyer is completely safe in all weather conditions, right?
For example, on December 18, 1944, Task Force 38 was hit by Typhoon Cobra (sometimes called "Typhoon Halsey") near the Philippines. The destroyers USS Hull (DD-350), Spence (DD-512) and Monaghan (DD-354) all capsized and sank. Seven hundred and ninety people were killed and eighty people were injured.
A destroyer can only roll so far before it capsizes. I think we are very close in the story I am going to tell you now.
During my first Med cruise, we found ourselves tied to this magnificent cruise ship-Michelangelo. I took this photo when we were both at the pier in Genoa, Italy. That day, I had the opportunity to climb to the surface search radar platform on the main mast with a crew member to do some maintenance. I remember looking at Michelangelo and commenting that it is too big and its main deck is higher than ours!
The Michelangelo cruise ship in Genoa, Italy in 1966.
In order to understand how high the hull of a cruise ship is, this is how the author observes the ship from there.
On April 7, 1966, we all set sail from Genoa for the Atlantic Ocean. Steinak was on his way home. Five days later, on the morning of April 12, we all found ourselves in the mid-Atlantic and caught in a terrible storm. The waves are big—the size of a large building. Steinaker has 60,000 shaft horsepower, twin screw and twin rudders. Usually, this will result in a very capable and maneuverable ship. But we were completely powerless that day. One minute we will be directed to the north, the next east-completely out of control. It is very strange that there is no wind at all and the sky is blue.
What caused these huge waves has disappeared.
When we are on the top of the waves, we can see for miles. There is a large merchant ship about a mile away. I remember seeing its bow buried in the waves, the bronze propeller was completely out of the water, spinning slowly, and the sun was shining from the blades. Then we will slide into a trough without seeing the boat. The next time we ascend, the ship will point in a completely different direction. Both of us are in big trouble.
The small destroyer before the upgrade seen here is not the smoothest sailing when the waves appear.
Above the bridge window between us, there is an inclinometer, which consists of a curved glass tube filled with an amber liquid. Inside the tube is a piece of black marble, which can be rolled freely to the lowest point of the tube. The inclinometer is measured in degrees. When sliding down the wave to one side, our starboard side rolled 56 degrees. We were told that we would overturn at around 65 degrees. Time seemed to freeze. Will we correct ourselves or overthrow it? I can still see the small bubbles in the inclinometer tube in my mind.
With 56 degrees of rolling, walking on the bulkhead is easier than on the deck. These extreme rolls make everything fly in all directions. I finally fell on my hips, stuck in the starboard wing door at the lowest point formed by the inclined deck and starboard bulkhead, and there was a pile of loose objects on my leg. I remember my neck stretched and looking out the bridge wing window. All I can see is a huge, vicious gray wall of water, which stretches upwards above our heads and is out of sight. We have never practiced abandoning a ship, and I don’t remember seeing a life jacket. We have several lifeboats that must be lowered by pulleys. It's totally useless in the rough sea.
Obviously, we will all sink with this ship, or we will all come out alive. This is just a physical issue.
At the same time, on the Michelangelo, a huge wave crossed the main deck, crushing most of the ship. Four passengers were killed and 50 others were injured. The damage is extensive. The ship managed to limp into New York Harbor. Michelangelo estimated the wave height to be 18 meters, or 60 feet. Sebastian Junger described the storm in his book The Perfect Storm.
This photo was taken from Michelangelo's bridge during the storm. Remember, Michelangelo’s main deck is higher than the top of Steinak’s main mast!
The food on Steinaker...different from the dishes my mother cooks. Sometimes the chef gets bored and uses food coloring to dye our scrambled eggs bright green. When the weather is extremely bad, they also have the habit of providing very greasy and slimy food. This brings up another topic seamlessly-seasickness. But first, more memories.
I really like mashed potatoes. The potatoes are stored in a large cabinet on the main deck with many ventilation holes. In bad weather, they will be soaked in sea water, but potatoes don't seem to mind. Mashed potatoes are generally good. I don't think the chefs bothered to peel them, so they mixed in small pieces of peel. I have to say that my favorite dinner ingredients are those mashed potatoes.
In my previous article about the encounter with the Russian Foxtrot submarine, I described two very stressful days, but there were also times when we were just sailing alone at night. At times like that, things are easy. Most of the crew members are sleeping, and my world will consist of three watchmen, bridge speakers, and people fighting with me. We are all on the same voice-driven voice circuit. I remember killing time by asking everyone a brain teaser, such as "I have ten coins in my pocket. They add up to sixty-four cents. What are these?"
I will try my best to keep the watchman with me, because I was early in my short career. If I think there is surface contact on the radar, I think it is visible, and I will give a lookout facing that direction. From their height above the sea, it can be seen that there is approximately 13 miles from the horizon to the top of the masthead of another ship. If you have good eyesight, you can catch a glimpse of them. Anyway, occasionally, around three in the morning, the smell of toast will manage to reach the top deck of the ship. One of us will go down and get a loaf of hot bread from the chef, a piece of butter and a jar of jam.
Dude, that hot bread tastes good! I look back on such a rare time with love.
Generally speaking, food—especially perishable items—is loaded at the last minute before the trip. As a junior crew member, I was marked for all working groups, and loading regulations were common. I remember bringing a large box of frozen beef on board. "USDA Good" is written on the box. I'm not sure you can find that level in the supermarket. It must be a special order item.
Milk itself deserves a special category. I think the Navy strives to always deliver the freshest milk to the ship at the last minute. Once it starts, one of two possibilities will happen-either we will run out or the milk will start to go bad. In the latter case, the chef will try to prevent the inevitable from happening through a series of clever steps. Adding a little canned milk at first may mask the taste and slightly brown color. Eventually, this will no longer pass the gag test, and they will have to add sugar and maybe some milk powder. In the end, it became a cause of failure.
Once the milk is used up, other substitutes are needed. We used to have those wheat flake packages with ten choices in a carton. For the Navy, they are packaged by sea by covering them with some kind of tar paper and then vacuum sealing with aluminum foil. We must have gotten a batch of things that have been in storage since the Korean War, because the taste of tar paper has penetrated into the corn flakes. One morning, I remember eating a bowl of tar-flavored corn flakes and replacing milk with purple Kool Aid.
Steinaker, sometime after her 1965 fleet revitalization and modernization upgrade in 1965.
Under normal circumstances, the new watch area can go to the front row, finish the meal, and then get up to the CIC to dismiss the guards, and the rest will have to rush down. I remember one day, I came to the back of the feed production line with severe hunger. Dinner should be stewed chicken. Before reaching the saucepan, I took a look inside. It looks like dirty dishwashing water with a few pieces of meat floating in it. But at the bottom I can see a large piece of juicy meat. I told the chef that I wanted that piece. Then there was an argument, and he wanted to know why I deserve special treatment. I insisted, but eventually he relented and agreed to my request.
I soon joined my boat friends and started trying to cut my juicy piece of meat. I remember that my knife was jagged, as if it was scraping debris. I tried to reorient the knife and cut the meat with grains, but it didn't seem to have any grains. Finally, I turned it over and there was printing on it.
I tried to eat part of the cardboard box where the chicken came in.
The biggest compartment on the ship is where we eat. It sits directly above the berthing compartment in the middle of the ship. There is a long table in the cubicle. The food is placed on metal trays, just like elementary school students might use. The edge of the table is lined with a small lip to help prevent the tray from sliding down in bad weather. This happens so frequently that we gave it a name-Chow Course.
On a special evening, pasta was the main course, and I was very hungry. I piled the pallets very high, and then found a place to sit at the end of the table. I sat down on my tray, judged that the ship was fairly stable, and walked to the worm juice dispenser. As soon as I returned to my position, the ship rolled over, causing the table to tilt down from one end of me. The tray started to slide-very slow at first. As it speeds up, everyone only needs to lift the tray from the table to let it pass. When it reaches the other end of the table, it is moving! It hit that little lip like a ski jump, and then it was ejected into the air. As if in slow motion, it floated in the air, not a single piece of noodles was lost, and fell directly from the hatch leading to the berthing bay in the ship. Time is suspended. … Imagine that when a plate of spaghetti filled with spaghetti slides directly down the hatch and falls on his head, the sailor’s companion will be surprised!
This was not the only unexpected rolling, and, within a short period of time, people slipped and fell all over the place. Noodles and spaghetti covered the deck. It started to look like a doubles mud wrestling match with noodles instead of mud.
It's another navy day when a destroyer goes to sea.
How about this segue? When I boarded this ship for the first time, they were already preparing for my first Med cruise. On any ship, a more common form of entertainment is to mix with newcomers. I was sent almost immediately to find a can of "relative bearing grease".
Before I joined the navy, I had been learning to fly, and I knew what relative orientation was, so they turned to plan B: keep talking about how rough the ocean will be once we start sailing. The goal is to get into the mind of the new person and make him worry. Once you have done this, the rest is left to nature.
I didn't fall in love with that either. I have experience. When I was a kid, my parents moved us to New York for a few years, and I took the Staten Island ferry many times. I have never been seasick.
The waterway from Norfolk Naval Base to the Atlantic Ocean is long and complicated. This entire collection of complex waterways is called Hampton Road. It takes a long time to reach the ocean. Once it started, I took the time to convince myself that this ship was no different from the Staten Island Ferry. Finally, we reached the sea and I realized that I was in big trouble.
Before long, I leaned over to O'Roark, the seasick sailor god, and prayed. That was the only time I lost my lunch, but I had a headache for most of the remaining two years.
There is a reason for this. The fear of the unknown and inexperience is a huge problem, but it is easy to overcome. Once you have experienced severe weather a few times, you will know what will happen.
You can also take preventive measures. We used to eat a whole box of salted biscuits and then set off after staying in the port for a while. The theory is that putting a large ball of cookie dough in your stomach instead of your stomach contents and shaking it around with normal food will help.
A comparison of two U.S. Navy Gearing-class destroyers from World War II and after Fleet Repair and Modernization (FRAM) I conversions in the early 1960s. The USS Sarsfield (DD-837) was unveiled on August 23, 1945, approximately three weeks after service. She is characterized by three 12.7 cm/38 double mounts, 16 40 mm Bofors anti-aircraft guns and five 53.3 cm torpedo tubes located between the funnels. USS Rowan (DD-782) was shown around the beginning of 1965, after her FRAM I was modified: she had two 12.7 cm mounts, Mk 32 torpedo launcher, SPS-37 radar, ASROC launcher between the funnels and A UAV anti-submarine helicopter (DASH) hangar and flight deck stern.
The next story takes place somewhere in the middle of the ocean in bad weather. It makes no difference where it happens. I told it not to show that I have a cast iron stomach or stronger than others, but to prove that seasickness has a very strong thinking over material aspects.
This is a miserable night. The movement of the boat is disgusting. There is a best route to make the voyage the most stable, but this may not be the direction you need to go. Just like my story, I was responsible for preventing collisions with other ships on the surface search radar. I don't remember, but if we act with the carrier task force, things will be a lot. Everything is conspiring to make us all want to die. Water may be splashed on the top of our car, the wind may be howling, and the smell of vomit may be strong. Everyone at CIC is sick, except me. Among them was our teacher, who was lying face down on the deck, with his head near the entrance of CIC. Anyone who enters will knock the door on his head. He lay next to the trash can, raising his head from time to time and vomiting into the trash can. I have a splitting headache, but I am not incapacitated for simple reasons that I cannot afford. The safety of the ship depends on me.
If other people stay in that position, they won't have the luxury of being sick.
We are in a foreign port. When the task of the day is completed, the crew can go ashore, but we must all return before midnight. The average age of junior soldiers is about 20 years old, and most people have never left home before joining the Navy. Their favorite activity seems to be to find the nearest bar and get as drunk as possible.
Some people think that starting a big bar battle will only increase the fun. I didn't drink, but it's a bad idea to wander alone in the wharf area of a strange foreign port in the middle of the night. There are many people who don't like American sailors. So, no matter what, I will eventually go to the bar. I can act as the designated sober person for some crew members.
In addition to the small personal lockers owned by each of us, there is also a public locker where we can store our big pea coats. Each is packed in a plastic bag with a zipper. I mentioned this because, after we all went ashore the night before, after waking up one morning, I mentioned that I had a vivid dream. Dreaming of someone urinating in the pea coat locker. This is such a vivid dream, I think it is necessary to take a look.
I think this is not a dream after all.
The bottom of a bag swelled and looked like a gallon of urine. The bottom of the pea coat is submerged, it acts as a wick, so the bottom of the entire coat is saturated.
no problem. This is not my bag!
Here is another story about the sea. This also happened in our mooring bay. The aisles between the rows of racks are narrow. On the top shelf of the row lived a grumpy sailor. Adjacent to him is a sailor who snores loudly. I dreamed that they were fighting in the middle of the night. In the morning, the snoring sailor complained that he was attacked by bed bugs at night because his face was covered with scars. I glanced at the grumpy guy's hanger, where there was a metal hanger that was curved like a pretzel.
I am the only one who knows what happened when they were all asleep. I leave it to myself.
Okay... Tell me another ocean story. At some point, first-class electronic technicians appeared. First class is a very high enlistment rank-E-6. It took several years to obtain this rank, but before that, his entire naval career had been working ashore. This is his first experience on board. He was a really good person and wanted to get off the car with the other crew members, so he asked him if there was anything he could do.
The first thing you learn is to never be a volunteer unless you are very bored and want to roll the dice. Anyway, someone suggested that he could stand on the postbox watch on the bow, which would be most appreciated. Of course, he has never served on a ship and is not familiar with how we receive mail at sea. According to the explanation, the navy always knows where we are and our scheduled route, so they can put our mail in a waterproof bag attached to a bright red buoy with a flash on the buoy, and then directly Throw it on our way from the plane. That is such a superb BS load, I almost believe it myself!
Stand on the bow and look for the mail buoy, everyone on the bridge can see you. No one is standing on the bow, because the weather is cold and windy, even if the weather is clear, you will be gushing out of the water.
I think he lasted at least an hour.
This may be a record!
The collision I mentioned earlier with a Russian Foxtrot submarine occurred while we were traveling through the Strait of Gibraltar to the Mediterranean. As soon as we arrived in the Mediterranean, we called several ports-possibly Italy, France, Greece, and Spain. Then we crossed the Suez Canal to the Red Sea and into the Indian Ocean. If you have never been to that part of the world in summer, you don't know the meaning of the word "hot".
There is a sea water inlet near the bottom of the ship, where water can be sucked in to feed the evaporator to make fresh water. I think it may be about ten feet below the surface. I remember someone told me that the seawater injection temperature was 96 degrees. Fortunately, during the repair and modernization of the fleet, the ship’s berthing compartment, key machinery spaces and CIC were all air-conditioned.
One of the most popular dispensers in the canteen area is the soft serve machine, which produces a frozen vanilla mixture similar to ice cream. The prepackaged mixture is packed in a five-gallon airbag in a cardboard box. It must be refrigerated. As the saying goes, the butter side of the bread is facing down, and of course the refrigerator is broken and the soft capsules are beginning to ferment. As the mixture began to decay and produce gas, the plastic bag began to expand and penetrate the cardboard box. It was only a matter of time before these bags exploded, filling the area with unimaginable decay.
So, as a junior soldier, I am one of the lucky sailors, responsible for throwing the bag into the sea. The path from the refrigerator or "freezer" involves a vertical ladder to the main deck. The two sailors could not share the burden, so each of us had to carry a 50-pound ball-shaped swaying bag on our shoulders and try to use one hand on the bag and the other on the ladder to climb the ladder.
One of two things usually happens: either the sailor loses control of the bag and it falls on the deck and explodes, causing the area to be showered, or worse, the bag bursts near the unfortunate sailor’s head, A hand hung on the ladder in mid-air.
Even with the thesaurus, I cannot find a word to describe this stench. The word "gagging" came to mind.
53 years ago, we were the only U.S. Navy ship in the entire Persian Gulf. Currently, I believe that there are often two complete aircraft carrier task forces in the area. In terms of manpower, the navy has increased from hundreds of sailors in the area to thousands.
A map showing the eastern Mediterranean, the Red Sea, and the Arabian Sea, with the Persian Gulf on the right side of the center.
Naval ships are unique. Any visit to a foreign port has a diplomatic element. Usually, the captain welcomes foreign dignitaries on board and entertains them for tea in the ward, while we are busy collecting all their military radar signals in the electronic countermeasures room. The collected information will be sent to the nearest ELINT center for analysis. The collected data helps determine the battle sequence of potential opponents. This may seem cynical, but history shows it is necessary. Charles de Gaulle believed that the country had no friends but only interests.
After passing through the Suez Canal, we headed south in the Red Sea to the port we planned to visit for the first time in Yanbu, Saudi Arabia. When we arrived at the port entrance, we were navigating using the British chart, which was last updated in the late 1800s. The bottom was very shallow and did not match the chart, so the captain turned us around and we left, leaving the local poobah and his entourage standing by the dock, wondering what had just happened. Facts have proved that in order to organize this small gathering, a lot of diplomatic efforts have been made, and the State Council is not happy.
Next, we stopped in Yemen to refuel, in the port of Aden, where the USS Cole was attacked in 2000. Even in 1967, it was considered a dangerous port, and this was the first time we deployed armed sentries. After refueling, we turned east to the Arabian Sea and our next port.
USS Cole (DDG-67) was towed into the high seas from the port city of Aden, Yemen, by the ocean-going tugboat USNS Catawba (T-ATF-168) of the Military Shipping Command on October 29, 2000.
If you look at a map showing the extent of the British Empire in the early 1900s, you will find that it is similar to a map of the world. They seem to be everywhere, including the Persian Gulf.
In 1967, the British were still active in the area and had small bases throughout the southern Arabian Peninsula. Our next stop is Salalah, which is a small dot on the chart. It is the site of an isolated small Royal Air Force (RAF) base and neighboring village, which is completely enclosed by a huge gate. It looks like a scene from the movie "King Kong".
Once we were tied up at the small pier, we met a group of wild-looking British people wearing some Royal Air Force uniforms, local clothes, and red and white checkered headscarves. They definitely have a loose uniform standard! They picked us up with a large flatbed truck, and we drove to their base at high speed. When we finally arrived, I asked them why they drove so fast. The answer is that it is harder to throw a grenade into a truck at this speed, and if they hit a landmine, it may only blow up the back of the truck.
The guy who told me didn't smile.
At the entrance of the base, we met a ceremonial guard provided by the chief who ruled the village. This is a photo taken by my shipmate Bob White:
Do you think I am exaggerating? The land there is as flat as pancakes, and there are mountains in the distance. We spent one night with the British. They have a piano and like to drink and sing together. I think I was told that, unlike us, once you are assigned to a place, you usually stay there until you leave the service, some of whom have been there for 10 years or more.
As I mentioned, this village is run by a chief and an educated person likes Elvis. Every night, some military officers and a soldier would jump on their Land Rover to the village, where the soldiers acted as projectionists and screened movies.
Marxist insurgents swooped down from the mountain from time to time, shot this place to death, and then took off on a camel. The British will form a patrol and chase them. This sounds harmless until they mention that their Royal Air Force base to the west was destroyed in a recent attack. I did not mention that the villagers do not have running water, nor do they know what electricity is. Every morning, the villagers would open the huge gate and drag a long boat out to sea to fish.
This is what Salalah looks like now:
Port of Salalah, Oman.
From this perspective, their deep-water general cargo terminal can handle 20 million tons a year, and the liquid bulk terminal can handle another 6 million tons.
After Salalah, we visited Cochin, India and Karachi, Pakistan. In Cochin, I remember a legless beggar sitting by a dirt road, his beggar cup is like a Mercedes-Benz with colored windows. One of my boatmates and I spent one night on the roof of a local hotel, chatting with a Peace Corps volunteer who gave up going home.
Karachi is the most hostile place I have ever been to. I think they had just held an election, and red hammer and sickle flags were hung everywhere. As we walked down the street in sailor suits, the locals glared at us from all sides.
After leaving these two garden attractions, we headed to the Persian Gulf, crossed the Strait of Hormuz, and headed north to the island nation of Bahrain. Bahrain’s reputation seems to be that the huge oil pipeline from Saudi Arabia ends there and ships can be loaded. We were able to visit the oil refinery for lunch. I remember there was a hut outside the main entrance with a poor camel tethered, but inside it looked like a scene from "Give It to the Beaver"-rows of small houses with white picket fences, each house has A window frame with flowers hanging on it. As we quickly discovered, the British, Germans, and American engineers are at the top of the food chain, and the so-called OFN-other foreigners-do most of the work. OFN is usually a skilled Indian, Filipino, and sometimes Bangladeshi.
Lunch is the best steak I have ever had. I found that the chef was lured from some three-Michelin-star restaurants in Europe to make the bosses happy. For their dining pleasure, food is shipped from all over the world.
Later, we took the strangest bus I have ever taken. We drove to the center of the island and saw nothing except the pipes extending in all directions. In the end, we stopped by a very large pipe with a large valve. Our guide let us all get off, and then he pointed to the valve. I think he said something similar, "This is the valve!" Then we boarded the bus and returned.
I think it may be a valve that controls the world's oil supply.
Over the years, things that seem to stand out include a few intense experiences, but mostly interesting ones. In retrospect, I feel that getting a freshly baked loaf of bread from the chef in the middle of the night and eating it with my friends, I think it has risen to the top. In the middle of the night on the boat, almost all the crew were sleeping, and I enjoyed my time on Steinaker the most. At that time, all the pressure and trivial troubles at the bottom of the rigid hierarchical organization disappeared, and I was free to complete my work as much as I could.
I help ensure the safety of my boatmates while they sleep. Maybe this is enough.
Contact the editor: Tyler@thedrive.com
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