PULL IN DAY: 5 YEARS LATER

Five years ago, the USS Carl Vinson (CVN-70) pulled into Norfolk, VA off of her World Cruise.                                                                                                                            

I was a part of that crew.

What has led me to reflect on this key moment of my life was earlier this year my ship left Norfolk to San Diego as part of her homeport change post RCOH (Reactor Complex Overhaul). On the way she stopped off the coast of Haiti to conduct humanitarian efforts to help that country recover from the devastating earthquake.

Yes I am aware that my ship is named after a man, but it is tradition that sailors refer to their ships as feminine.

That’s when it hit me. Five years ago, that same ship left Bremerton, WA to conduct operations in the Persian Gulf.

Before leaving for deployment, I came home for Christmas. This was going to be my first BIG sea journey. I had already done little month long training cruises (April 04, June 04, September 04), but THIS was going to be a long one. If I told you I was not afraid, I would be lying. I was scared. Mainly I was afraid that the experience was going to change for the worst. I said a prayer to look over me and my family while I was away.

Instead the deployment changed me for the better. What got me over that fear was I was part of a crew that was seasoned. For some sailors this was their third deployment on the Vinson in four years. I remember a guy in my division who said that in a two year period, 18 months was spent at sea (deployment and month long training cruises).

Looking back, deployment was a blur. Going down on watch at 0700 was no different than going down to watch at 2200. The propulsion plant was the same no matter what time of day it was: loud and hot. You entered a routine where all the outside distractions did not matter at all. Watch, eat, sleep, watch, eat, sleep… Do a little maintenance here, some training there. You really don’t remember exact dates but you remember more of the moments.

For the most part, despite transitioning to an East Coast Navy mentality, the leadership left you alone… unless you were screwing up.

Some of the maintenance items I remember fondly were when we cleaned out the lube oil cooler and a co-worker found a fish and a bird in water side of the cooler. The fish we understood, but the bird was a mystery. We think that the bird went out to sea, died, and got sucked into our water piping. He then proceeded to parade the bird around the plant and a common question was “Surf or Turf?”

Another piece of maintenance I recall cleaning out an air ejector condenser. There was mung clogging up the piping thus lowering vacuum and causing abnormal operations. I do not recall why we were doing it but I do remember Senior Chief Mayes tasking me with cleaning it out when I came down to the plant. That man knew the plant even though he was a conventional mechanic. You know something, that guy could literally run circles around nukes with his knowledge of the plant.

Finally, a unique incident happened when we pulled into Portugal. Immediately when we dropped anchor, the suction pressures on our distilling units dropped like a rock to nothing. The on watch DU operator opened up the strainer and saw a very unique sight: jellyfish. Even with gloves on the guy still got stung.

We entered the Gulf on March 15 and left July 1. Originally we were supposed to leave by June 15 but we got extended. It sucked, but I was with a crew that left Bremerton, WA in January 2003 for a 6 week training cruise. They didn't come back until September 2003. So, it provided me with some perspective. (Translation: No reason to bitch about it)

We already knew it was going to be hot because we felt it as we headed west. Standing watch in the plant when the ship was off the West Coast was pleasurable because we were in cooler waters. Standing a five hour watch in the Gulf was all about survival. It easily got to 100F in the ventilation. The ventilation had to be covered with cheese cloth in order to keep the dirt from blowing into the plant. Yes, sand storms on land would carry that stuff out to sea. 100F was the MINIMUM temperature. There were some spaces in the plant where stay times were required.

Complaining about the chowdales making up 60% (that's a minimum and not an exaggeration) of the long lines in the galley. Oh, believe me, I have seen where the lines for the port side galley and the starboard side galley touch each other in the hangar bay. If the lines don’t go into the hangar bay, they snake their way up to the 03 level, the deck below the flight deck.

UNREPS and being assigned to the working party. I love it when you would be working one of those and then tell the supply guy that you have watch coming up. They would tweak and spout off about how “Our chain of command should have known about this.” You know what, why don’t YOU support out watch bill.

MTT Preps: Day long field days in a 100F plant. Yeah, it sucked doing focused cleaning, but we earned the title of “The Best Damn MMR in the Navy.” We even had a trophy… until it was stolen by 2 planters. I still remember Herm Edwards’s Senior Chief Mayes's pep talk before the inspection team came aboard:

“All right, listen up…. You-you-you dumb dicks. It’s the fourth quarter! We’re d-d-d-down by three and they have the ball near our goal line with five minutes to play! WE’RE GOING TO WIN THIS THING BY TEN! LET’S GO!”

The man had a stuttering problem and had a dip in the lower corner of his lip, but that man knew how to rally the troops. Hell, he is probably a motivational speaker, football coach, or a professional marathon runner (Recently confirmed that he is still in the Navy on the Enterprise). I would have followed him into Hell, no questions asked. If there was one guy I would want by my side in a fight, it was Senior Chief Dale Mayes. I am aware he made Master Chief in 2007, but he will always be Senior Mayes to us.

During General Quarters drills, the Damage Control Chief would tear you a new one if he saw you wearing WHITE socks with your uniform. Chief, I am certain that if there was immediate danger to the ship and you complained to me about my socks, I would probably tell you to piss off.

Speaking of GQ drills, there was this one drill where we were setting up the scenario. I kid you not but this is what was spoken over the 1MC:

“This is the TAO. The country of Durka-Durka-stan has been linked to several terrorist attacks. The Carl Vinson strike group has been ordered to the region to provide deterrence to these attacks.”

The TAO was laughing because of the name of the country. Team America: World Police was played regularly on deployment.

Another GQ moment was when we conducted fire fighting training. We sprayed a hose in the hangar bay into the sea. What I remember from that training was off in the distance, close to the horizon, was the oil rig platform, and you could see the flame in the dark sky. We used that as an aiming point for the flame.

Pulling into the Sandbox in Jebli Ali and seeing a Starbucks there. And it was acceptable to grab a beer at 9 AM because well it’s noon somewhere in the world.

Having to learn the hard way that 8 beers (yeah, I am a lightweight) on the night before a duty day is not a good idea. Standing inport distilling unit watch hungover in a hot plant was painful. I was so glad that we only had 3 hour watches in the plant when were in the Sandbox. There was no way I could have survived a full six.

The sounds: The planes taking off and landing on the flight deck. You could hear that in our berthing. And we were below the hangar bay. It was a lot louder on the 03 level. Actually you hardly ever noticed it after a while.

Now how were you able to sleep with all that noise going on? It was quite easy. Believe it or not the boat did rock just a little bit, just enough to put you asleep. (And I knew a couple of guys who got sea sick from just a little bit of rocking). What would wake you up (Besides the shaft alley patrol conducting wake ups for the oncoming watch team)? Occasionally the ship would conduct a dual plant scram where they would measure the propulsion plant watch team’s ability to recover the plant if BOTH plants were to scram out. The only source of power would be the diesel generators. Our berthing was near the diesel generators. It was not the fumes, the sound, or the AC cutting off that would first wake you up; it was the rocking stopping. That was your first sign that something was up. And it was tough to get back to sleep.

I remember clearly pull in day. I was on the 02-07 shaft alley patrol so July 31, 2005 started for me at 0100. I had requested to man the rails when we pulled back in. I had done that when we left San Diego. I wanted to do this to culminate this journey and to see my dad and his sister when I pulled in.

The watch went by quickly. It does when you are climbing up and down into the shaft alleys of a Nimitz class carrier. I got relieved early in order to man the rails. I recall taking a real quick shower and changing into my dress whites. I mustered with my fellow sailors in the hangar bay. As we got closer to Virginia, people started getting cell phone reception (a first in probably 6 months) and calling their loved ones on the pier.

I made a fateful decision. I was on the fence about presenting an American flag. Specifically my grandfather’s flag, the one he “acquired” from the USS Kansas City (AOR-3). I decided to bring it up to the flight deck with me.

We sailed over the Chesapeake Bay Bridge Tunnel (sorry about the haziness, it is a great view on a beautiful day) and the Hampton Roads Bridge Tunnel (sorry about the music). By the way, how many people can say they went OVER those engineering marvels? The ship slowly made the turn into Norfolk Naval Station. It was a warm, cloudy, morning, but the seas were calm. Perfect sailing weather if you ask me. Even though it was a slow going, it felt like it went by very quickly.

Finally we heard the second set of magic words that every sailor loves to hear:

“Moored! Shift Colors!”

I remained on the flight deck to display the flag. I was proud of this moment. My dad and his sister saw me and snapped this picture.

Finally, I heard one of my favorite calls:

“Liberty call! Liberty call! Liberty call for E-4 and above!”

I gathered a bag of clothes and the flag (folded correctly of course) to return to its rightful owners. I was allowed to leave the ship to touch land on the continental United States since February 2005 (we were in San Diego before heading west).

At 0900 on July 31, 2005 I was back in the continental United States. I was reunited with my dad, his sister, and my car. They showed up because that event was important to me. It was important that I had someone show up to my ship pulling in and my subsequent return.

Afterwards we left for a hotel in Portsmouth, VA. I had changed clothes and I finally realized in my haste of packing I had forgotten my tennis shoes. My aunt let me borrow her slippers because it would have looked tacky if I had worn my dress shoes with shorts and a t-shirt. We ate a celebratory breakfast in the hotel restaurant.

We went to the hotel and my aunt and dad wanted to do some sightseeing.

My aunt asked: “So, Mikey, what do you want to go see?”

My final day underway began at 1 AM. I had been running on pure adrenalin for almost six months. I was tired.

“Honestly…"

"I want to sleep.”

And that was one of the best sleeps I have ever had.

I earned it.

I look back on this event with fond memories as I do my naval service. I can’t relive it because I already did. However, the memories are still there.

My dress blues are neatly folded in a box in my closet. My ribbons, command ball cap, and insignias are displayed on my fireplace mantle. The medals are with my grandfather’s flag which is with my cousin Vincent. My certificates of my accomplishments are in the process of being scanned to my computer.
I have no ill will towards the Navy because what good will it do for me to be pissed off with it. There were good times, bad times, and indifferent times. Those experiences shape me for the type of person I am today.

No matter what I do and where I go, the Navy will always be a key part of my life.