At Sea

Darkly overcast, a warm, steady wind blew from the northeast.

“Release stern lines!”

The called command passed from the Captain on the bridge

to the Executive Officer on the flying bridge and,

via megaphone, seemingly echoing,

to the Officer of the Deck

then to the men on the stern lines.

 “Aye, Captain!”

The stern angling from the wharf,

“Stern lines released!”

 “Release bow lines!”

The echoing command.

“Aye, Captain! Bow lines released!”

Dissipating in the wind a thin stream of black diesel smoke

emitted from the high, white funnel as the ship slowly backed out of its slip.

In the channel, the ship backed to starboard and with a slight shudder,

the twin diesel-driven turbines reversed and ship

began the forward motion that would take her within easy sight

of the Statue of Liberty, through the narrows of Ambrose Channel,

into the Atlantic Ocean and approximately nine hundred nautical miles

to Ocean Station Charlie.

The piping of the boatswain’s whistle.

“Now hear this!

Now hear this!

Secure from general quarters!”

One day: bright, sunlit heavens.

One day: ominous black skies.

One day: pounding waves.

One day: balmy breezes.

Days into days:

An endless stream of white, frothy wake followed the ship

in the southern Atlantic waters.

Nights into nights:

Velvety black skies with millions—trillions—of radiantly shining stars.

Days into days:

Arching their magnificent silver-gray bodies out of the water,

pods of porpoise swam alongside.

Nights into nights:

Beaming behind moist, thin clouds,

the incandescent moon appeared as a golden halo.

Days into days:

Cleaning stations

Chip paint

Kitchen duty

Scrape paint

Lookout

Wire-brush paint

Helmsman

Paint.

Nights into nights:

As though God were shining a spotlight from heaven,

the brilliant moon lit a rippling road of silver for the helmsman to follow.

Days into days:

After work:

Bullshit with your pals

Lay in the sun

Sit on a depth charge rack on the stern watching the white clouds,

the churning wake and the white-capped, green sea.

Nights into nights:

Read a book

Write a letter

Play cards

Watch 16mm movies sitting on your pillow on the

crowded deck of the rec room with your mate;

An old Esther Williams movie:

Hey, I saw this movie!

Where? Oh, yeah! In the drive-in that night with Sally…

Sally! Remembering. Thinking of her soft, warm breasts,

sensing a twitching in his groin. God, if I had her address, I’d write.

Days into nights

Nights into days.

Work. Sleep. Relax.

Resuscitate your mind.

Revive your spirit.

Feel close to your God and…

feel the substance of your youth.

ETA:

Estimated Time of  Arrival?”

Thursday  0630

The skyline of New York City becoming larger,

becoming clearer, the ship steamed out of the Atlantic Ocean,

through the narrows of Ambrose Channel,

to within easy sight of the Statue of Liberty.

“Secure bow lines!”

“Aye, Captain! Bow lines secured!”

“Secure stern lines!”

“Aye, Captain! Stern lines secured!”

The piping of the boatswain’s whistle.

“Now hear this!

Now hear this!

Secure from general quarters!”

©October 26, 2011 / Mark M. Lichterman