Before the Mast

          I was in trouble three times during my navy career. There were more times than that, but I only got caught these three. 

           The first time was in Pearl Harbor. I believe there were  of us detached from training at Barber's point Hawaii en-route to Guam. The plane leaving from Oahu Hawaii to Guam and on to Vietnam was supposed to leave at four o'clock in the afternoon. We were there at one o'clock. Someone came up with the idea that we could go to a nearby bar and have a couple of beers before departure. We got back to the airport at three, but the plane had arrived and departed early, something unheard of for military transports at the time. We missed the plane and were sent to Pearl Harbor naval station to wait for the next available departure. The chief master at arms there gave us the choice of going on report and going to the executive officer's mast (classified as non-judicial punishment) at Pearl Harbor or taking shit details at Pearl until the next flight was available. All of us took the deal. Missing movement is a serious offence in the navy. I spent the next seven days working in the galley at Pearl Harbor, working 12 hour days cooking meals there. I will never know which was worse, executive officer's mast or the extra duty in the galley and living in the transient barracks for that period of time. Navy transit barracks were like living in a zoo with nefarious characters in abundance. As far back as World War Two, transient barracks were a nightmare.

          The second time was right after I arrived on Guam. In those days uniform of the day switched from working uniforms to white uniforms at either four PM or five PM. I got back from work late and not thinking, headed straight to the mess hall. An old Bosun's mate Master at Arms caught me half way to the mess hall and took me to the chief MAA. The old chief gave me the option of going to executive officer's mast or doing three days of extra duty. I do not remember what that entailed other than an extra four hours of work after I finished the normal day's work.

          The third time was also on Guam. Because the barracks was across the runway from our squadron work area there was a cattle trailer behind a tractor that hauled us from the mess hall around the runway to work every morning. I missed the cattle trailer by just seconds one morning and the only way to get there was by a bus that ran all around the base and all through dependent housing. That took an hour to travel, so I was late for work. I was put on report and had to go to executive officer's mast. I could have gone to captain's mast, but I opted for another several days of extra duty, staying in the flight line shack overnight waiting for any late arriving planes from our squadron. 

          Writing this reminds me of one cruise on the Kitty Hawk. The ship was being pushed away from the dock at North Island San Diego by tug boats when a young sailor came running up to the dock in his dress blues. Once the lines were detached and the tugs were pushing the ship away from the pier, that ship was considered underway. Missing movement was a serious event. The quick thinking sailor, not wanting to miss movement, dove into San Diego bay swimming toward the ship. The Bosons in the deck crew called man overboard and plucked him out of the water, so technically the sailor did not miss movement. I never heard what if anything happened to him after that; all I remember is how sad a soaked sailor looks in his dress blue uniform. That was the not the first time I saw that in San Diego bay; it happened many times with drunken sailors returning from Tijuana in the morning headed across the bay from Broadway Pier to North Island and leaning over the side of the small boats to vomit and ending up in the drink. The boat captains hated having to turn around and go back to fish the sailors out of the water. A set of dress blues were made of wool and wool gets heavy when wet.