Well, here I am again, but unfortunately I have been working. OK, OK don't reach for the oxygen. It is only a temporary lapse. That is the bad news, the good news is that I found a bottle!!!!! and I am working on receiving a message, but in the mean time here is the first story in a chapter of my life that took place {WELL YOU CAN FIGURE IT OUT FROM THE DATE} anyway once a long time ago, a really, really, really, REALLY LONG TIME AGO I left town, not really unexpectedly, but that is another story, anyway I left town to join the Navy and see the world and then fast forward a few hundred lifetimes and this is the first story in that chapter of my life. There is more to come that is current, but this is hopefully enjoyable or at the very least not boring reading??????????
December 23, 2003
So I ran away from home again and ended up in
Cayo Waste-O, that would be Key West, I had to stop by Broken Chicken, that would be BOCA CHICA Naval Air Facility to get my pass so I could live on another ship and work on the submarine USS TROUT SS-566 down here.
We have been called SQUID, SMOKEBOAT SAILORS, STINKBOAT SAILORS, PIGBOAT SAILORS, and a variety of other things in a number of languages, but no matter what we are called, we still are drawn back to this older than dirt boat so we can take a trip back in time and do something constructive at the same time. Boys will be boys and some of the toys they like to play with just happen to be bigger than others.
So every day a few old ex-submarine sailors proceed to try and get themselves down a hatch (that was made to be used by someone much younger) in the top of this elongated sewer pipe and work in less than ideal conditions. I seem to remember that the topside hatches were a lot bigger and the lower flats hatch holes were also bigger. I cannot understand how they could have shrunk that much.
Then we all go to work in the confines of this iron maiden, get ourselves all covered in grease, rust, diesel fuel, hydraulic oil and various other disgusting chemicals and contaminants that we all took a blood oath never to do again when we removed ourselves from the active duty roster of this canoe club, aka U. S. Navy.
The good news is that we who belong to "THE BROTHERHOOD OF THE BRAINDEAD" have over the last almost 3 years actually managed to put the old lady back into some kind of shape where she can actually start to think about going to sea and not clogging up the harbor by sinking shortly after pulling away from the pier or having the superstructure disintegrate from the vibration of moving.
The guys who work on her actually look forward to coming down here, could that be considered "CHILDHOOD REGRESSION" or maybe as we reached a more mature age, we just completely lost our minds!!!!!!!!!!!!
Well, I am no longer in Cayo Waste-o,(refer to first paragraph if you are not sure what that means), but do plan to return next year to work with who/whom ever (not sure of the politically correct grammar) decides to come down there and endure more of this controlled insanity. It is always fun because the first LIAR has no chance at all.
MERRY CHRISTMAS and HAPPY NEW YEAR.
I'LL BE BACKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
