concept to them. Then wishing to make an impression, he had kicked in to take over steering from the bridge. The problem was he kicked in on the same cable we were using. He was suppose to request permission before doing such a thing, in order to find out which cable we were operating on, so he could then use the opposite cable to smoothly take over control. The Captain gave this Chief a good chewing out over the incident. The Captain was not at all happy, as we had as a “guest” onboard the Commandant of the Sixth Naval District. He had to explain the incident to him. At least I was exonerated of any wrong doing.
We still had the third day to go. On that day it was decided to do something a little safer. We were to practice passing supplies and then personnel from one ship to another, while steaming along side by side on the open sea. A rifle with gunpowder shoots a line over from one ship to the other. The rope attached is pulled in and tied on to the railings between the two ships, after which the passing along of supplies begins. Sounds simple enough, I’d seen it done in movies and on the Victory at Sea television series. I was thinking0 this should be safe and easy for us.
Apparently I had forgotten that “us” was Reservists. Nothing comes easy for untrained Navy Reservists. I think that may even be their motto. Anyway, let the games begin! What FUN games they were to be! The one ship pulled along side the Greenwood about twenty feet apart. As they did, orders such as course and speed changes were yelled into a megaphone between ships. All seemed to be going beautifully. The line was shot across and retrieved by the sailors aboard the other ship. The rope was securely tied, as both ships bobbed up and down, side to side in the rough waters.
Just as they were preparing to pass some supplies, somehow the other ship changed both course and speed. Pulling rapidly ahead of us, they began pulling us toward them like a magnet. You could hear the yelling going on aboard both ships. “Cut the lines! Cut those damn lines!” At the time I had to write all of this into the ships log. It was quite a challenge to keep up; course and speed changes were being called out rapidly, along with frantic orders to sever the lines. Taking a quick glance outside, I could see my fellow Sailors feverishly hacking at the ropes with axes. At the same time we were coming dangerously close to each other.
Thank God the danger passed, and we did not collide. However, embarrassed by this, the Commandant of the Sixth Naval District ordered another try be made. Only this time, since our ropes had been cut to shreds, we were to use the other ship’s ropes. On this second try the adventure really heightened.
The very first attempt was successful. The ropes were again secured, and we actually successfully passed some supplies from one ship to the other. Now it was time for the personnel ladder to transport one person from one ship to another. Volunteers were sought, but oddly enough, no one was stupid enough to want to go, not even the guy who wanted to be a Fireman would volunteer for this. It was rumored the Commandant had first been offered the honor. His reply was said to have been, “What! Are you Crazy?”
The lack of a volunteer proved to be a prudent thing. As shortly afterward the same thing that had happened earlier began to take place again. The other ship began to speed up, pulling out ahead of the Greenwood. Once again we were being pulled rapidly toward the side of the other ship. The same orders to cut the lines were again being screamed with fear and passion in the voices. As I was writing I was thinking, What an adventure! If I live through this, I’ll have quite a story to tell. I felt no sense of panic. Not even when the First Class Quartermaster handed me a life jacket and said, “Quick, put this on, we might have to abandon ship.”
But when the Captain gave the order to sound on the horn “prepare to abandon ship”! I must admit I did become a bit more deeply concerned about what was happening. The big thrill came when those around me were starting to leave. “Should I go to my life boat station?” I asked the First Class Quartermaster. “No, you have to stay here and log in every command that is given. It is important to have a record of what commands are given.” Then he left me, to report to his life station. The only thought which gave me some solace upon hearing this news was: I could have been climbing up that long string of ladders right now, trying to get to where I could jump off.
Once again we passed dangerously close to the stern of the other ship, our bow only about six inches away from their rear. By now we had butchered both ships set of ropes. No need for further exercises today. It was decided we return to port, for an inquiry as to what had gone wrong. That inquiry was held throughout the rest of the day. It was a thorough effort to determine who had been in error, and consequently to be held at fault for the two near misses we had gone through. I was told my log book played an important part in the decision which was made regarding which Captain was at fault.
You can’t believe how happy I was when I heard our Captain, the Captain of the Greenwood, was found not guilty of having made any wrong decisions. In fact, due to the things I had written down in the log, he received accommodations for his wise and quick actions taken to prevent a tragedy.
God has a way of repaying acts of kindness. The Captain was the one who had gotten me reassigned, and given the job of writing the ship’s log.
Chapter Six
A WELL EARNED VACATION IN MONTEGO BAY
Adventure time in Cuba now over, it was time to have some new adventures in Montego Bay, Jamaica – Moan (Man). Having had enough fun in Cuba, Montego Bay was our next port-of-call. This was to be our reward for having lived through all of the adventures so far.
Jamaica is the beautiful Island Paradise which postcards and people who have been there often claim. We had been warned about the Communist element there. They try to elicit information as to the destination of your ship. As stated previously, we had a contingent of Sea Scouts on board. Three chose accompanying me into Montego Bay. I was interested in visiting the Straw Mart. It was supposed to be a place where you haggle with vendors for the best price. I had heard they had a variety of unique things for sale.
As soon as we left the dock, about half a block up the street, a guy started following us. He was trying to get information. “Hey Sailors, you are going to Viet Nam?” Turning to the Sea Scouts I said out loud for him to hear, “Now don’t any of you let him know we are headed for Viet Nam.” One of them started to say, “But” I quickly said, “No buts, just shut up, and don’t say a thing about Viet Nam!” When he said, “You going to Viet Nam moan (man), and you goanna get your head shot off,” I knew I had suckered him in to believing the USS Greenwood was headed for Viet Nam.
Later, the Scout I had told to shut up asked me why I had done what I did. I said, “If that moron actually believes the Greenwood could sail all the way to Viet Nam without sinking, let him and those he reports to worry about it. As we walked on we passed a book store having for sale in its window, Birds of the West Indies, by author James Bond. I recalled how Ian Fleming had said he found his spy’s name from seeing that book while in Jamaica. A car beeped its horn, and one of the Scouts forgetting the warning we had received, narrowly missed getting run over. They drive on the left side of the road in Jamaica.
We continued on to the Straw Mart. Once there we began to look at what the vendors had to offer. We soon discovered it to be a family kind of place. The people were very friendly, and extremely competitive. I was looking for a pair of hand carved, hand painted maracas, not the gourd type, but the smooth and even hand carved.
One guy said, “I don’t have any, but maybe my brother over here has.” The brother said, “I don’t, but maybe my cousin over here has.” When I was offered an item at a price, let’s say $10.00, the guy next door would say, “No moan, don’t buy from him, he’s too high. I sell you same thing for $8.00” But then the guy across the aisle would blurt out, “Hey moan! Forget those guys. I sell you same thing for only $5.00.
This made things better for me, as I was used to paying the set price, unless advertised for less. I was no expert at debating over the price I would pay. Their competitive debate helped my cause.
We had been warned not to wear our watch, as it was a favorite item to be stolen, or offered to buy. I had my watch in my pocket. It was a tight fit in that small pocket. Sure enough several times I and the Sea