“Larson, take Tatum and get as much equipment as many needleguns and sanders as you can. Don’t forget chipping hammers and sandpaper. Doubletime!” Mike ordered.”You got it!” Larson replied. “Err, where is Tatum?”
“Tatum!” Mike shouted, looking around. “G-ddammit, where is he?! Okay, just go! I’ll send Tatum after you,” Mike said.
Larson darted out the hatch.
“Rudman! Where’s Tatum?” Mike asked.
“I dunno Mike. I saw him at muster,” Rudmsn said.
“I know he was at muster!” Mike exclaimed. “Go down to the Bosun locker and help Larson bring the tools to the mast. If you see Tatum, tell him to get his ass here!”
“Will do!” Said Rudman, running out of Combat.
“Tatum ain’t gonna have an ass when Mike gets through with him,” Rick said, laughing.
Everyone else in hearing range laughed as well.
“Might as well grab a cup of joe until Divvo gets here,” Rick said.
“Good idea,” I said, as Rick poured me a cup.
“Stiles, where are you going?” Mike asked.
“I was going to go to the ships store. I need some more boot polish and some new stencil markers,” Stiles said.
“The store doesn’t open until 0800,” Mike said, crossing his arms.
“Oh yeah. Right,” Stiles said looking down.
“What’s the problem?” Mike asked.
“I gotta see Doc,” Stiles said, still looking down.
“What for?” Mike asked.
Silence.
“Stiles?” Mike asked, lowering his voice. “Tell me in the passageway. C’mon,” Mike said, walking out of Combat. “No one leaves without checking with me!” Mike shouted.
Stiles looked around, like a deer caught in headlights, and followed Mike.
“I bet he’s got the clap,” Garner said, snickering.
“Better not be crabs,” said Curtis, scratching his head.
“Don’t even say that man!” Exclaimed Garner, backing away from Curtis.
Laughter. Somewhat subdued.
I never had crabs, but I had heard about them. I didn’t know much about them, and I didn’t want to find out the hard way but I wasn’t going to ask. I didn’t want to look stupid.
“If he has crabs we’ll all know soon enough,” Chief said, sitting at his desk.
“I never had crabs but I heard they were bad,” Rick whispered.
“Same here,” I whispered back.
Rick confided in me, but he just met me. Everyone else appeared to have been on Duluth for awhile.
“How long have you been aboard, Rick?” I asked.
“About 3 weeks,” he said. “I’m kind of surprised Mike picked me to show you around and get checked in,” Rick continued.
“Where in the south are you from?” I asked.
Rick had an obvious southern accent, but not a real heavy one.
“Kentucky. You?”
“Oregon. Well, California originally, but mostly Oregon.” I said.
“We travelled around a lot. My dad was in the Army. He was pissed when he found out I joined the Navy,” Rick said with a slight smile.
“I think he might be over it now. At least he’s talkin’ to me again,” Rick chuckled.
Sheesh! His dad should be proud! I thought.
“Why was he mad?” I asked. Puzzled.
“Grampa was in the Army. So was uncle Bill. I guess my dad thought it was a family tradition. I dunno,” He said. “I’m not too good at runnin’, so I picked the Navy,” he said, smiling.
“I hear you. I hate to run too. Long distances anyway,” I said.
Mike returned to CIC and poured himself a cup of java.
“Stiles going to be okay?” Chief asked.
“We should get him back after Doc see’s him,” Mike said, sipping his coffee.
“Alright. We’ll talk later, Chief said, grabbing some paperwork. “I have to go see the CDO. I’ll be back before lunch,” Chief continued.
“I got everything covered here, Chief,” Mike said.
“Get everyone working on the mast as soon as you can,” Chief said. “We only have three weeks to finish it.”
“We’ll meet the deadline,” Mike said confidently.
“I’m holding you to that, Mike,” Chief said, smiling as he left.
“Has JG showed up yet?” Mike asked.
“Not yet Mike,” Rick said.
“Hold on. I’ll see if he’s in his stateroom,” Mike said, dialing the number.
About 30 seconds later, Mike hung up. “He probably got caught up with something else.
I’ll let you know when mr. Conner is ready to see you. Until then, you’ll be working on the mast,” Mike said, looking at me.
The phone rang. “CIC, Martin speaking,” Mike answered. “Yeah. Yeah. Okay, meet me at the mast,” Mike said.
“That was Larson. He only got one needlegun, so we will be doing it the old fashioned way today. Everyone grab a hardhat and harness and follow me Mike said getting a hardhat with a first class petty officer insignia on it.
Rick handed me a hardhat and harness, got his own and we followed Mike out to the weatherdeck and up, up to the base of the mast.
“Larson will be hear soon. Adjust your hardhats and harnesses so they fit tightly,” Mike said.
I had no problem with the hardhat. I watched everyone else to figure out how to put the harness on.
A few minutes later, Larson and Rudman showed up, lugging all the tools.
“Good. Rudman, you set up the hose for the needlegun. Everyone else grab a chipping hammer and some sandpaper,” Mike ordered.
“This is bullsh*t Mike!” Garner complained. “Why don’t we wait until we can get more guns and sanders? It’ll take forever to do it manually.”
“It’ll take forever if we keep standing around shooting the sh^t and bitching about things that are beyond our control. Get to work Garner. You lead,” Mike said.
Sigh. “Whatever,” Garner said, climbing the mast.
“When he gets to the top Rick, you start up. Ben, you go after Rick. You’re not scared of heights are you?” Mike asked.
“I love heights,” I said, smiling. I used to climb fir trees, cherry, oak, etc., often, so heights didn’t bother me.
“When you get up there, make sure you hook up your safety line before you start working. Rick will show you what to do,” Mike said.
“Okay, go,” he continued.
I reached up and started climbing. Heck, this was easier than trees!
“Slow down Conrad! It’s not a race!” Mike shouted.
I slowed down a bit.
“If you fall I’m going to kick your ass! Slowdown!” Mike shouted again.
Sheesh. What’s the big deal? I thought. But I slowed down some more.
When I reached the top yardarm I looked around.
“Right over there Ben,” Rick pointed.
I hooked up the clasp to the safety line. I sat on the yardarm and looked in awe at the view. I could see for miles in every direction.
This is so cool! I just stared in wonder…
“Ben! Are you alright?!” Mike asked, as he climbed up to my position.
“I’m fine. Just enjoying the scenery. Why?” I asked.
“I thought you froze for a second there. It is a great view,” Mike said, looking around.
“Hey! There’s Tatum by the signal bridge! Tatum! TATUM!” Mike shouted.
“Sh^t! He can’t hear me. Unless he’s faking deafness. Larson! Go get Tatum! He’s on the signal bridge!”
“Where?!” Larson shouted up.
The wind was kicking up, and Larsons voice sounded weak from up here.
“SIGNAL BRIDGE!” Mike shouted, cupping his mouth like a megaphone.
“Aye!” Larson shouted back, giving the thumbs up.
Mike pulled his hammer from his belt.
“Watch how I do it,” Mike said, beginning to chip away with the hammer.
Rust and paint chips were flying off as Mike swung. Looked easy enough to me.
A nute or so later Mike looked over at me.
“Now you try it,” he said.
I swung my hammer and could feel the vibrations as I swung. Clang! Clang! Clang!
“Good! Keep at it,” Mike said.
I continued, swinging away with abandon as the wind gusted, roaring in my ears.
An hour went by, until Mike ordered me to stop.
“Now, grab a sheet of sandpaper and sand the area you chipped. Yeah, like that. Fold it up a few times to get a better grip,” he said.
He’s right. That works better. Whoa! That was a big gust! I quickly grabbed the yardarm, struggling to keep my balance.
I didn’t want to test the safety line in this wind!
“F^ck!” I heard Garner yell above me.
I began to look up but before I could raise my head I felt a sharp blow on my hardhat! I almost lost my grip, as the hardhat flew off my head! I saw the hat falling along with a chipping hammer.
“Look out!” I screamed at Rudman, arranging the hoses for the pneumatic needlegun on the deck below.
Too late! The hammer just missed him and hit the deck, bouncing in front of Rudman.
My hardhat fell behind him bounced a few times and went over the side to rest on the weatherdeck far below.
Rudman jumped at first, and then ran away from the mast looking back, his eyes wide with fear!
“Oh sh^t! Oh sh^t! Jesus! Aaaahhhh!” Rudman screamed, his voice fading away as he ran.
“Are you okay Ben?” Mike asked, moving towards me.
“Yeah, I think so. I got a major headache though,” I said, my head pounding, my heart still racing.
“What the f^ck! Garner! What the hell are you doing?!” Mike shouted, anger searing his voice.
“I’m sorry! It slipped…I lost my grip! It was the f^cking wind!” Rudman shouted.
“Rudman! Go get Conrad’s hat! Now!” Mike yelled, when Rudman hesitated,
I closed my eyes, to shut out the pain. Damn! That didn’t work. Only made it worse. I felt dizzy and nauseated. The deck below was spinning when I opened my eyes. Damn! Gotta…hold on!! Lord…
