New Homeport Island

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Table of
Contents
I. Prologue – New Homeport Island, maroon scenario 964  
II.  Chapter one – Change of homeport to unfamiliar waters
III.  Chapter Two – The new old standard
IV.  Chapter three - Helping an angel  
V.  Chapter four - Leviathan
VI.  Chapter five – ‘Jupiter’ the rise of chaos
VII.  Chapter six - The green reed cabana
VIII.  Chapter seven – A lost frontier
IX.  Chapter eight - It was a simple way of life
X.  Chapter nine – Caging a man’s desires
XI.  Chapter ten – Forgotten freedoms
XII.  Chapter eleven – Life begins
XIII.  Chapter Twelve – Mercury sets to sea
XIV. Chapter thirteen – Two more years
XV.  Chapter fourteen – A less hospitable home
XVI. Chapter fifteen – Recompense  
   
 
Warning contains sailor talk
Author’s Note : I’d like to point out that the first three chapters  
 piss me off ‘PTSD’ style.  

Prologue
New Homeport Island
 maroon scenario 964
Island life has been eventful but always rewarding. Vast
 arrays of experiences have been a massed and recorded in this
 sea story. The salt of the sea may have bleached our bones and
 the sun, baked our brains; but it was the hours of work that
 tested our souls, bent our backs, and made us old.
Our story begins at the start of it all, our change of home
 port, and a bitter winter just after. The crew was a cast of
 characters preposterous in dimension and absurd in expression
 both then and in our tale.
Though the mermaids turned out to be whale bubbles and
 the sirens were just sound deadening troths reverbing emptiness
 against the sails, there are still things best left mused over but
 left un-believed.
The incidents which took place on DD-964 were surreal
 enough uncelebrated, but in the franchise of ‘maroon scenario
964’ they solicit angst in this damned soul that once strode upon
 her untamed decks.
I won’t speak of disgrace here, nor of acts of heroism that
 righted the coming disasters brought on by those other acts of
 arrogance or shameful frailties; but I will speak in the sailor’s
 tongue of lust and adventure as well as the ever present comedy.
Life at sea is a suffering and is to be laughed at.  
So take heed, amongst these pages lays the mockery and
 exhalatation of a sailor’s experience and you may well be he. It
 has been true and remains so, that a sailor may find himself or

herself marooned on a ship, having lost sight of joy and become
 haze grey and underway.  
Should you be there now…stranded, on a ship…at sea,
 awaiting something good to do…then rest here in these pages,
I’ve been there before you and will comfort you.
Chapter one
Change of homeport into unfamiliar waters
Everett Washington November 1995, we arrived at our new
 home port. The changes are astounding; Long beach California
 had been deeply sardonic and hostile just as a matter of local
 culture. Here in Everett it’s a softer way of life. The first thing
 we noticed were the pubs, they seemed to operate on a fix cost
 model with no intention of expansion. No dance floors, no
 music, nothing to facilitate the art of ‘the pick-up’ or seduction
 at all.  
In time we discovered actual clubs and it seemed better
 than what we were accustomed to in California. If you had a bad
 day at work and wanted to drink and complain go to a pub, if
 you’re looking for companionship head to the ‘meet market’; a
 phrase I had heard but misunderstood in my youth. It was
 comedic to hear connotations between ‘meet market’ and
‘sausage fest’; it seems many of the crew also misunderstood.
Some of those boys I served with were only comfortable at a
 sausage fest, too few women to feel any pressure. The men and
 women, I served with were another story entirely.

We found Everett to be too soft, a guy comes up and asks
 for a light from one of our guys and it seemed to be a come on.
It took about two months to realize he was just looking for a
 heads up on the mood and tone of the bar as though it were a
 private party and he was establishing himself as a friendly face.  
I felt like we were demanding these people harden up and
 stop seeming so soft to their military. A much more harsh way
 to be than any of us wanted, and a misunderstanding at that.
It was a good port, but complacency had set in. Everyone
 had their one public function and anything else was someone
 else’s job. That created gaps and short comings in what local
 society was willing to do for each other as a service; and
 promoted the concept of lending favors. At times, when they
 come to collect their debt of favor, it would lead to passive
 aggressive arguments and was just a bad way to get things done.
It was a sight to see though…snowcapped mountains, green
 trees, two men arguing over the hood of a blue ford truck about
 some very hometown matters. It felt like a home.  
Within the first couple of days we had our scouting done,
 found the bars, hotels, apartments, and I was the lucky guy to
 find the mall first. A vital piece of information for the women in
 our crew and keeping them appeased was a means of survival,
“Ahh… the power of estrogen.”  
It was uncharacteristically cold that year according to the
 crew members from the area, all glad to be so near their
 childhood homes though some were surprised that eighty miles
 away and eight hundred miles away had the same impact. Just
 too far for a weekend visit to be routine. There would be no
 college kid style bringing home laundry to mom for these
 squids.  

The snow came in waves from off the ocean, something we
 saw rain do frequently but a ship from long beach California
 watching waves of snow dusting the pier was surreal. I likened
Puget Sound to lake big bear on account of this feature. Everett
 however had a convergent weather pattern just over Puget
Sound which resulted in some three hundred days of rain per
 year. This further implied Puget Sound is just a flooded lake,
 and the Olympia national rain forest had become a rain forest
 through survival of the fittest amongst the botany set. One of
 those inferences is certainly correct whilst the other is patently
 absurd, I forget which is which.
     We were jaded in just the wrong way, ‘people weren’t to be
 trusted, but the sun will shine, the breeze will ease, and the rains
 will subside’; which was a philosophic assumption that did not
 exactly serve us well in Washington State.
The rain ceased only to build to a full force storm, there
 was no expectation of sunshine on any given day, there was a
 distinctive cartography to the breezes, and the people were like
 us. Just trying to survive to the next day with bills paid, food in
 their stomachs, and a lover with warm moist lips to welcome
 them in to a roof over their heads.  
There in that first winter we met our own naiveté. Many of
 us had never driven in the snow and had spouses also unable to
 drive in the snow. The slightest dusting of snow was an expected
‘snow day’ to them; after all what can one reasonably expect to
 accomplish in the snow…in a mania of delirium…due to the
 realization that snow is a real, and tangible effect of weather. A
 comical development for those of us with exposure to life in a
 true winter.
Standing on the ASROC deck just forward of the fantail we
 looked out at all the snow and saw the bridge to Marysville is

stop and go traffic there’s been an accident. The command duty
 officer and I as well as a few other cigarette smokers stood there
 smoking and using binoculars to survey the scene. We informed
 the police of the accident as it seemed there were no police on
 scene. It turned out the driver at fault didn’t want to call the
 police over a matter of personal pride and his insurance
 premiums. When we realized it was captain Armitus, I was sent
 to pick him up and bring him to work. At first he didn’t
 recognize us, so I assessed him for shock and found there was
 some degree of shock; he blamed the cold for that, and I
 accepted it. Being that I was an engineer he described losing
 control of his vehicle and asked how that might happen. It was
 actually power steering failure he described but he wanted it to
 be the result of antilock brakes. I concluded the engine must
 have failed. And that satisfied him; he was quiet on the drive in
 since he was cold and realized it was us that called the police,
 something he chastised the command duty officer for later.    
The snow storm increased and decrease over the first
 couple of days. I stuck to the public library it was warm and
 inviting, pleasant surroundings with the hidden feature of
 filtering people out far better than any military recruiter. It
 seems as though some people would never go to a library for
 fear of being caught dead there. How do you exit somewhere
 you find to be embarrassing as you have a heart attack without
 anyone becoming aware?  
Establishing myself at the local library with the librarians, a
GS-8 and GS-12; I had established the navy’s need for a
 substantial reference section. We would need encyclopedias on
 subjects like maritime law, international law, as well as
 engineering, culinary arts, history, and military science. I boiled

that down to asking for as many encyclopedias as possible
 medical, law, and material science.
“…So, you’ll need books on sailing then?” the librarian
 asked, “I thought you guys were the authority on that” she
 continued with a chuckle. She reached up to the counter where
 my hand was resting and rested hers on mine.  
I smiled and replied, “It’s not so much the sailing part of
 our reputation that we are authorities on…It’s more those tantric
 temples we visit overseas that we are known for being
 knowledgeable about.” I slid my hand back slowly and she
 looked down to the desk a little embarrassed and disappointed,
 but just before her hand left mine I slid it back forward and
 interlaced my fingers with hers from beneath. She stood there
 starring down at our hands and asked, “Are you older than you
 look or am I really old enough to be your mother?”
I smiled a wide smile, leaned in and whispered, “I’m much
 older than I look.” She giggled and I laughed and she looked for
 a piece of paper to write her notes on as well as her phone
 number. There was a stack of small sheets of paper on the
 counter that eluded her. As she searched she asked again, “So,
 what was it you’ll really be needing?” as her hand slipped away
 from mine. This was actually an invitation to ask her for her
 phone number but I was new to town and she really was old
 enough to be my grandmother. I said, “Legal library materials,
 engineering encyclopedias, management books…pretty much
 everything to start this whole navy thing all over again. It seems
 our navy wide ‘training issue’ is so bad they have announced it
 to everyone.”
She looked up and asked hopefully, “Is that all?” I smiled
 and said, “It would take all night to cover everything I

need…what time do you get off from work?” and I laughed a
 disarming don’t kill me for teasing you laugh.
“I might have just what you’re looking for…” she said as
 she continued to search for something to write on, but added
 with a giggle as she shook her pen, “but, there may be
 something I will have to get.” She was getting flustered at her
 confusion; it seemed she hadn’t had a good flirt in years. Just as
I offered one of the slips of paper from the counter top she had
 turned to enter the office and lingered in there for a while.  
When she returned she was more reserved and there was a
 line waiting for her. She seemed a little older in her demeanor
 and I lost my nerve for flirting with her and she noticed that.
Once she had taken care of the line she had waiting checking out
 books and seeking certain books with casual conversation with
 her regulars she told me she would let them know what it was I
 would be needing and said, “We’ll pick this up later.” So, I
 headed back out of the library, I was getting hungry anyways.
In front of the library there was a significant gathering of
 patrons some not dressed for the cold. With some small talk I
 discerned they were in fact homeless. It was my first opportunity
 to flex those researcher skills. The charters and mission
 statements of the county health services, federal welfare
 programs, FEMA, and social services would be my lead in. The
 librarians were more than willing to jump in on a ‘mission’. We
 prepared a legal argument stating job responsibility, public need
 and obligation. We scripted a scenario for the situation involving
 the police providing transportation to county health services,
 with follow on social services; inclusive to placement in shelters
 and various programs such as vocational rehabilitation and Pell
 grant educational opportunities to the homeless.