A Storm on the Sea

When we were out to sea, if I wasn’t working or on watch I would sit out on the fantail of the ship watching the sunsets. There is nothing quite like being out on the open sea; there is no land in sight and you can see for miles in every direction. Completely detached from any kind of civilization, we were adrift from mankind. Traveling at full speed through the ocean, the ship would leave a long white wake behind us stretching out into the distance. Under the open sky, the infinite waters went on forever. We would go for days heading on a steady course; to see what foreign lands awaits us.

At dusk, when the sun would set, I could see a panoramic view of the incoming weather. Sometimes we would witness a storm chasing us. The seas would be fairly calm and as the light begins to fade, tall black clouds off in the distance with the occasional flash of lightning starting off small until it reaches the ship. Before too long the large wall of clouds stretched from horizon to horizon, painted red from the setting sun and pitch black underneath; it looked like the gates of hell had open up and its coming right at us. The storm clouds tower overhead as the rain begins to pour, lightning striking the ocean all around. The wind and waves come rolling in.

The weather decks were secured a long time ago but I would still be outside any ways, holding onto the railing of the ship; all of a sudden, with a thunderous roar, King Neptune displays his awesome might, thrusting his triton down upon the ocean in an attempt to send us to the bottom of Davey Jones locker beneath the swirling black abyss. Arcs of lightning stretch across the entire sky, illuminating the dark storm clouds and the massive waves. Lightning crashes all around the ship, temporarily blinding and defining me in an explosive flash of white light.

Holding on tight to the railing, a wave crashes over the top of me, almost sweeping me right off my feet. I get back up and yell, “Is that all you got?” The ship climbs a swell and then crests, diving rite into the water, engulfing the entire bow of the ship and sends waves crashing down the side. The mighty destroyer gets knocked around in the storm, like a toy boat floating in a bathtub as waves pummel the ship.

Soaked to the bone, I finally make it back inside the ship and walk down the passage way only illuminated by red lights for darken ship; the ship rolls from side to side, and pitches up and down. I could always tell when the ship would climb a swell; the bow of the ship would rise up slowly then break through the other side. If you are up forward far enough the ship drops and you feel weightless for a second. Waves would crash over the top of the bridge as the ship dives rite into the next swell in a powerful, yet graceful motion.

Even in bad weather and rough seas the work must go on. I would stand a six hour midnight watch down in AUX1 (Axillary Engine room #1), then head to the mess decks for some breakfast, trying not to drop my food and tray while the ship pitches and rolls. Then do a ten hour workday, get a few hours of sleep and then go back on watch and do it all over again.

After quite a few days of rough weather the sun would rise, light up the remaining storm clouds on the horizon, but the seas are still pretty rough left in Neptune’s wake. Sitting out on the fantail, the ship would roll to one side as a swell towers over the horizon, then she straightens out on the top and you can see large waves and white caps for miles underneath a dark grey sky, then we roll to the other side as the ship surfs sideways down the swell.

I could always tell when Miggs had the helm; he would turn with every swell just to see how far he could get the ship to list to one side. They would always give him the midnight watch, because it was impossible to get any work done during the day when the ship hits every wave. Out on the mess decks for chow, I would have to hold on to my tray while I ate, and I could hear the pots and pans crashing on the deck in the galley when the ship lists hard to one side.

I had my sea legs, and after a while I could anticipate the pitches and rolls of the ship and walk down the passage way without any problem, leaning from one side to the other. To get down to the forward pump room to switch fresh water tanks, I would have to climb down a vertical latter five levels deep all the way up forward. In rough seas when we would get tossed around, it would be very easy to lose your grip or footing on the latter and fall to your demise. I loved turbulent waters; I never slept so well, with the ship softly rocking me to sleep.

After a few weeks out to sea we would finally pull into a port to rest and resupply. Out on liberty, once I stepped off the ship and onto the pier, it felt like I was still swaying with the ocean and I had to get my land legs back again.