I hadn’t
been topside in days.
Work had
kept me down. Transferring from troubleshooting my radar equipment to working
in the galley as a crank (or to be politically correct “Food Service Attendent”)
had kept me busy. Not to say I hadn’t had downtime –I had, but I had better
uses for it than seeing the sun.
But as we
sat on the mess decks watching Anchorman 2, waiting for our next tasking, the
Commanding Officer comes over the 1MC:
“Good
afternoon! It is a beautiful day outside today – and I mean it this time,
unlike yesterday when it turned out to be overcast and cold! Well, we have Jose
and Bulldog in the water and we’re about to race them against the ship. Come on
topside and see which is fast. C.O. Out.”
We glanced
at eachother briefly. There was an unsaid thought that passed between all the
cranks on the messdecks. Then we popped up, turned to CS1 and peaced-out. We
half-walked, half-ran down the passageway to the flight deck. We were excited
for the chance to watch a big ass destroyer go up against two little motorboats
in the middle of the sea.
The sun
glimmered on the water – it was so blue! A deep, cobalt blue. A few fluffy
clouds floated about the sky, and a light breeze settled over the ship. It was
gorgeous. I had been so used to the weather over our last two months of patrol,
that I hadn’t even considered the outside could be so nice. It had been rainy,
cold, and windy all the other times I had ventured out.
I leaned
against the torpedo tubes and watched as the rhibs dashed across the water and
left over waves larger than they were. Then the CO popped on and shouted for
them to get to their marks, to get set, and GO!
The rhibs
took off, Jose in the lead. Their passengers clung to anything they could grab
ahold of. We sat there.
I looked to
my friend in question and she just shrugged. Then the stacks spouted a puff of
white smoke. The ship vibrated.
We were
about to go into warp.
We began to
move.
Slowly.
Ever so very slowly.
The engines
whirred. The rhibs were so far ahead of us. We could see them looking back,
wondering if we had forgotten that we were also in the race.
But we
gained speed. We gained and gained until the whoops and hollars of the gawkers
could no longer be heard over the hum of the engines and the roar of the wind.
We gained on them. We kept on gaining until we were side by side. Then we were
gone, left them in our wake.
Our
gorgeously azure wake.
The CO
announced our win and the ship came to a stop. Everyone was laughing and
resumed their games and lounging. A football was being tossed around on the
missile deck, meanwhile another football was being tossed between the rhibs. At
one point it was fumbled into the water and we enjoyed countless minutes of
watching them attempt to recover it.
This slid
seamlessly in with the picnic the First Class Petty Officers were throwing for
us on the flight deck. Music was playing as the smell of barbequing drifted
across the weatherdecks. People were out lounging, playing, and dancing in
their civilian gym clothes. Tanks, shorts, leggings. It was all good. We sat
crosslegged on the deck as we ate off paper plates to our fill.
Fishing
poles were cast off the back as people leaned against the safety lines and
smoked what they had – vapes, cigarettes, cigars. It was a great day. The
entire ship came out to enjoy a beautiful day together. We sat in large circles
on the ground, officer, enlisted and Midshipmen. We danced the cha cha and
watched as our Command Master Chief did the nay-nay.
It’s days
like this that you look out to the horizon, to that place where the sky meets
the sea, and you have to say, “this is why I joined.” There are shit days.
Every job has shit days. There are shit bosses, shit months, shit tasks. But
then there’s a nice day where you can laugh with your friends in the sunshine,
eat a hotdog made for you by someone higher ranking than you, and just be okay
with the world.
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