“Reflections Of An Ol’ Salt”

It warms an old Salt’s heart … I remember when, as God intended, Salty Ol’ Chiefly Bastards were downright mean and profane drunks duly respected by the deviant Sailors working for them! This theoretical end-point was expected for men steeped daily in the lying, thieving, corruption, bribes, charlatanism, misery, and the unrelenting stupidity they had to deal with on a daily basis!! Ashen-souled, cynical, with a wonderfully caustic sense of humor that could dissolve a meat clever, they lacked illusions, about anything, I remember a Chief once telling me …

“I can never trust you scurvy bastards! You’re all just waiting on the chance to Fuck me Royal!”

… If a young shipmate thought he saw glimmerings of human decency in his Chief, he’d have to have his eyes checked!!!

First Classes weren’t far behind … rough edged, often talented lifers who were usually ugly as hell with a penchant for black tarred coffee! Built like a fire plug with leprosy, they were the archetype blue shirt, combing themselves to one day be the next Divisional Chief!! Not to make fun, because by and large they were usually men of robust character, sort of associated with pit bulls, and sometimes were more combative than the gentlemanly officers would like!! You can’t be diplomatic, hands off, contemplative or anything of the sort and get the job done from someone who doesn’t want to be blunt and quite frankly in your face!! After all, they were in competition with a pack of malevolent malcontents trying to earn their anchors first!! When assembled in their First Class Meetings, they resembled Mongolian Hordes!!!

Now the Second Classes were the odd ones … too senior to get the ‘Shit Work’ and too junior for too much responsibility! They were also the most deviant … as legend has it, one Second Class headed into Olongapo to a missionary for volunteer work, only to disappear on a motor trike over the horizon with a bottle of booze and ended up in some whore house stark naked with a dozen honey-khoes supposedly teaching them English!! This is usually the time in a young Salt’s career he learns to get real good at distinguishing the difference between fairy tales and swapping lies!!!

The Third Class Petty Officer was nothing more than a glorified Seaman accomplished at cleaning shitters, sinks & pissers and not giving two shits about anything because he was getting out in a year or two… or three! Hey, I resembled that remark!! They knew enough to stay out of trouble by blaming it on the other guy in that division, department… or ship over there across the pier!!!

The Seaman, Airman & Fireman down below?!? Shit cans, Shitters and ninety day stays of crank’n in the world’s finest floating diners! That’s all I got … Oh, and a Skippy’s Mast or two under the belt!! I was pretty fluent in that area as a bottom-feeder!!!

What brought these reflections on in an ol’ Salts past you ask?!? They are the musings of my previous life of Twenty-Three years in the Ol’ Canoe Club Cabaret!! Think of it like the cave drawings of a Neanderthal era long gone by!!!

So cheers to the shipmate who ran butt nekkit over a corrugated tin roof from Shore Patrol in Puson, or that Third Class Ordie found drunk face down in a binjo somewhere near the Honch in Japan! It was a different time with good whiskey, beautiful women and not enough cameras for a “Polaroid Moment” to capture!! It sure was fun as hell wasn’t it?!?