Sea Stories

I went to college for a little bit before entering the service. It is hard to say how much, or if it helped to prepare me for Boot Camp. Perhaps it helped to hone my appreciation for the absurd. That is a valuable thing for anyone in military service.

One thing that I did get while in college was the chance to hang out with some veterans. Most of these guys were going to school on the GI Bill, and they were proud to talk to a younger guy who was getting ready to follow the same path that they had taken. Most of all, they were happy to have somebody new to tell their Sea Stories to.

What is the difference between a Fairly Tale and a Sea Story? One starts “Once Upon A Time” and the other goes “Now, this is No Sh*t...”

Sea Stories pack a lot of the same impact as mythology. Whether they are believed or not, whether they are in any way true or not, they have a basis in fact. Sometimes a very tenuous basis, but it is there nonetheless.

I reported for basic training on the night of my mother's birthday, two weeks before Christmas. I was put on a train for Boise, and when I got there was put up in the Holiday Inn. My flight to San Diego wasn't until the next afternoon, so I spent the day hanging around the processing center with the other recruits getting ready to ship out, trying to appear brave.

There was a young lady who was supposed to be going to the Training Center in Orlando. She had been effectively marooned at the entrance station for a couple of days, waiting for the results of a pregnancy test. Surealism was already setting in. The actual flight to San Diego is lost to the fog of time and Western Ailines champange (guaranteed not to make you blind until you land).

With just two weeks before Christmas, there was not going to be a lot of training going on, but we still formed into training companies and tried to act like we were learning to be sailors. Mostly, we were available for any staff who needed practice yelling at people. When they got tired of yelling, there was always plenty of time for, that's right, Sea Stories.

One of the most popular flavors of Sea Stories had to do with a mythical place called Subic Bay in a far away kingdom called The Philippines. In the Philippines (also called The P.I., or Philippine Islands) there was anything that a young man could want. As long as all he wanted was cold beer and little dark skinned women who were willing to do just about anything to make him happy. And Anything was often described in the most depraved, degenerate, and appealing manner imaginable.

Before long, the recruits realized that the most important reason to complete Boot Camp was so that some day they would be assigned to a ship going to the P.I. There are worse things to live for. “The Needs Of The Navy” kept me from visiting the P.I. for another seven years, and by then the mythical experience was winding down.

After a very short visit over New Years weekend, the Task Force moved out and sailed on to the Gulf War. Our trip home was delayed over and over again, and just after we passed out of the Straits of Hormuz, Mt Pinatubo exploded, and the Philippines experience slipped into Sea Story legend.

I live in the Philippines now, however. Sea Stories, like myth, has its roots in the truth.