I loved what you wrote. I love the way you wrote it. I too had a place, on the catwalk under the number one catapult. I was a red-shirt and worked launches for 3 full Med. cruises. I would sit in the wind and sea spray and look ahead at the wonders of my life. I'ld never been to Spain or Egypt. I'ld never been anything but a poor farmer's son. I would look into the night and smell the air. An aircraft carrier always had company. It was always surrounded by smaller ships, just over the horizon. Silent angels of folded planes lay waiting on the flight deck just above. Ivory veterans whose untold stories gave me courage. And here was I. Who would I become? What wonders were in store for me. What stories would I tell? Often then I would turn my gaze to the fantail and the rolling wake. I marveled at the trail this mighty warrior left on the surface of the world. It was as if this journey had a life of it's own. As if I were part of a magnificent ballet where the past fell and was washed away. The future lay just over the horizon with the sunrise. But I was to enjoy the present. I could see and hear the water rushing 90 feet below me, just a steel grate between me and the water. And here was I. I could become anything. The world was waiting on the half shell. Here, with all of the power and glory of the most powerful war ships in the history of the earth, I was touched by the hand of God. I was touched by the smell of the sea and the spray on my face. Over the wind and the roar of rushing waters I let my feelings free and shouted to the Lord "What do you want me to be?" With all the strength in my 17 year old body I shouted "Here I am, What do you want me to be?" I waited that night for an answer. Every chance I had I would return to my spot to wait for an answer. Then on the last cruise, crossing the Atlantic in early spring, we ran into the worst storm at sea I had ever known. The ocean was swelling up, flexing it's muscles, taking a long deep breath and then relaxing to swell again. The decks had been cleared and most of the planes were chained in the hanger bay. The waves were crashing onto the flight deck and the ship pitched and rolled like a tin can. It was there, as I clutched the chain ladder railing with one hand, I clearly heard my answer. There in the roar of the wind and the groan of the steel I heard my answer again and again. "Be a good man." "Be a good man." I will never forget the smell of the spray on that catwalk. Certainly every old sailor can still hear the sea calling. Now when I visit the ocean, when I stand at the shore, I can still feel the old man pulling me back. I can still feel the longing from deep inside me. I can still feel the power and courage, and I can still feel the hand of God.
Duane Hanson
Rick Northup
Hey all;
One of my favorite songs, (poems, actually)
"I must go down to the sea again, for the call of the running tide
Is a wild call and a clear call, that may not be denied.
And all I ask is a windy day and the tall sails shaking.
And a gray mist on the sea's face, and a gray dawn breaking."
I have always been fascinated with the sea. One of my favorite past-times aboard ship, I had a secluded spot high up on the port side to aft where you could get without any real danger right almost outside the ship and watch the sea and the spray. especially, I loved it in the storms. The wind and spray blowing in my face and the luminescence of the various phosphorus rich sea life stirred up in the wake. If you leaned 'way out, you could see the churning water above the screws under the fantail.
The ship I was aboard was a huge ship. Almost half a mile long, a complete floating city of several thousand people, and the noise of it was constant, but here I was alone with the wild, untamed sea as my companion, and all I could hear was the roar of the storm's fury.
Ricky Ticky Logger, Jogger, Swab, Gob
--- [email protected] wrote:
Yes Frank, water is pretty facinating & scary at the same time. Now the fact that we swim in water for months before we are born may have some effect on why we like water. Of course I believe it does go back to our heritage also, Rhode Island suggests that it might be surrounded by water. The map shows many lakes & Providence is a seaport so many of our clan worked in & around water. Pa loved the water or he wouldn't have settled by the river & bought the home place with the slough attached. They also lived on the south shore of Lost Lake, in between, until that house burned down. Hot summer nights would find us bathing & cooling off in a lake somewhere. Your dad & Wes practically lived in the river as kids. Dead lake was so full of blood suckers we picked them off almost as long as we swam. But we loved to go to Ottertail Lake to swim on the south side where we could wade out for blocks and play ball there. Of course Helens family lived on the lake also. I was facinated when I woke up on the way home on leave when the train slowed down to cross the Great Salt Lake, man oh man middle of night & all I could see was water riding on a train! I'd always heard it was easy to float on salt water - but a train? When 8 of us flew from Watisham to Belfast on the bombay doors of a B 26 the pilot dropped down just above the water so he stirred up a spray behind. I really enjoy listening to rain at night in a good tent & sitting on the porch watching it pour is fun. On the highway it is terrifying, afraid to proceed & afraid to stop. Today it's the berries as we are supposed to have an air show at the Aurora Airport. It rained all night so we have water everywhere. Jeesh, I thoroughly enjoyed our summers on Lake Delavan even after skiing into the dock. I broke two ribs & pulled the muscles in my left so bad it was as big as my thigh! I was back skiing the next week-end.
Love & Luck to all,
Dean.
