Monday, September 2, 2013

Those Who Go Down to the Sea in Ships-The Conclusion

I know what you're thinking...WHEW!

In today's episode, we learn why we hadn't thrown our garbage overboard for the past three days...... 


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17 JUN
USS AMERICA (CV-66)
Latitude 00˚ 00’ N
Longitude 039˚ 00’ W

Taxpayers?
This is actually the kind of stuff we mostly do.
You can relax.
          No way it could have gotten worse.
    
    Way.


    “Time to visit Davy Jones Cooler, filthy
Davy Jones Cooler.
I figured, how bad could it be?
wog.”

    Hoisted to my feet, I watched as the lid of the cooler was flipped open to reveal the contents of the box.  In addition to three other wretched pollywogs was some of the trash which hadn’t been tossed overboard.

Wrong Davy Jones.
If nothing else?
He's dead.
Oops, too soon?
    Apparently, they save garbage for things like this.

    I was rudely flipped up and over into the box.  The lid was slammed down over my head, casting us into a humid, fetid darkness.  The smell which wafted its way around my head and into my lungs made me nostalgic for belly-diving with the Royal Baby.

Actual Davy Jones.
"Man, those people are really effed up looking.
White people are whack."
   As my hand sank into a pile of fish and a mushy clump of something, I heard a gurgle from one of my companions.  In the faint light, I saw him clutch his stomach and abruptly bend over.  A splash followed a liquid cough.  He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and whimpered, “Sorry about that, man.”
"Well, it wasn't all garbage,
ya know."

    “No problem.  You can’t possibly have made things worse,” I said as the remains of Saturday night’s chicken a la king clawed under my fingernails and Friday’s beef yakisoba slipped into my socks.

    “If anything, you improved them.”

    The lid flew open and we were ordered out.

    Golly, the minute we’d spent in the cooler only seemed like an hour!  Just when the heady bouquet of vomit was beginning to intermingle with the chipped beef, too!

    Another shellback (Jesus, how many did this ship have?) smacked my behind with his firehose (enough with the frikkin’ shillelaghs, already!) and pointed at three rows of garbage bags strung together and held in place by duct tape.

    NOTE:  Is there anything duct tape can’t do?

"Let's see...where did I leave those tubes...?
  Oh, no matter, I'm like Davy Jones.
I'm dead, too."
    “You will now crawl through Captain Nemo’s escape tubes!”

    Great, he said escape!  Maybe we were almost done here.  I had had just about enough Navy tradition, thank you.  Scraping eggs and cigarette butts off officers’ plates was beginning to look real good just about now.

    Energized by the thought I may be done, I dove into one of the garbage bag “escape tubes.”  Right into even more garbage!  Geez, how many days did they save this stuff?

"Penwasser?
Garbage-filled sack for one?"
    I pressed my lips together in a vise as I tried to keep someone’s partially digested lunch from forcing its way in.  As I crawled on my hands and knees, I felt sodden pieces of old vegetables and rotted lettuce heads grind into my dungarees.  Oh, look!  Someone else couldn’t keep their stomach contents where it belongs!

    I finally reached the blessed end.  Like a bear emerging from his den at the landfill, I poked my head out into fresh air.

    A shellback (who else?) greeted me.

    “What are you!?”

    Fantastic.  A quiz.

    “A...a pollywog?”

    Smack in the ass.

    “Wrong, go again!”

    Cursing myself for giving the wrong answer, I lurched back to the front.  As I reached it, I brusquely shoved aside my green-around-the-gills cooler companion.  No way did I want him and his tender digestive system ahead of me in that thing.

"You're not going back to work
until I get all the vomit off you!"
    Seconds (seemed like hours) later, I popped out of the cute, this time with a leaf of cabbage round around my head like a hobo’s hat.

    This time, I didn’t give my tormentor a chance to ask.

    “I am a Shellback!”

    A nasty, smelly, greasy shellback with eggshell drying in his crack.

    Who probably should have thought twice about leaving his clothes in his locker until he returned to Norfolk in five weeks.
"Seriously?  You crazy bastards can keep that!  
And to think we wanted gays in the military!
In the Navy, my ass!
Oh, I get it...hee...hee...hee."


Fin

Hope the rest of your Labor Day weekend is peaceful and vomit-free.
And that nobody is smacking you in the ass with a firehose.


For those of you who aren't Americans, hope your Monday is going well.


That vomit and firehose stuff applies to you, as well.

28 comments:

  1. I am so glad I never joined the navy. I think you really do need to turn all of this into a book too. You said you're planning it and you should go for it. Although I'm pretty sure that's not what Davy Jones actually kept in his locker.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. It's going to be quite a lengthy tome, although I am going to include some serious aspects. I guess you can only get so much mileage out of swimming in garbage.

      Delete
  2. Davy and crew look even worse without the CGI

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. It's like Madonna without her makeup, huh?

      Delete
  3. hahaha ewwww and ewww some more. Barf and other stuff that may not have been garbage. Need more than bleach haha I'd rather get whacked in the butt with a firehose than have to crawl through that.

    ReplyDelete
  4. I have to hand it to you- you skillfully divided the story so that each post was worse than the last. Well done!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. It got worse and worse the longer you watched. It was a lot like the Miley Cyrus video that way.

      Delete
  5. They should have let you choose between joining the Navy or joining Village People before that initiation ordeal. Could Village People have made you do anything worse? I bet their pay is better too.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. They would have made me sing and dance. Which would have been better than eggshell in my ass.

      Delete
  6. I think it's worthwhile pointing out to you that I've been very recently talking to my friend about the football manager Dave Jones and was joking about him being the guy in charge of the locker so this was particularly funny to me haha, absolutely loved this post Al, really made me laugh a lot. Great ending, your time in the navy was the best!

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Does he have tentacles?
      The bizarre thing is this is completely true.

      Delete
  7. How can you make such a frightening, grotesque experience so bizarrely funny, Al? Only you. But it's never too soon to post Davy Jones. Gary Coleman, yes (always). Davy, no.

    Have a grand Labor Day yourself.

    xoRobyn

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Wait until you read about my initiation to Chief Petty Officer. More garbage, but this time I dressed as Spanky from the Little Rascals.

      Delete
  8. I totally should have joined the navy!!! I would have been awesome at it.

    Hugs!

    Valerie

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Back in the day.....
      Hijinks such as this are no longer tolerated.
      But, yeah, I so would have gone on liberty with you.

      Delete
  9. I rarely get queezy from yuck descriptions but you did it today, friend. I had to comfort myself with some bees honey. But I'll use any excuse to eat some honey.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Oh, you ATE it? Thank goodness for that.

      Delete
  10. I just read part III, and if you threw in some beer pong this could have easily taken place in a fraternity house or on a space shuttle. I always knew you were a brave man.

    Julie

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Pledging a fraternity is exactly how it felt. Unfortunately beer isn't allowed on board ship except under special circumstances. And beer pong hadn't been invented yet.

      Delete
  11. And where was Mr. Goose and Mr. Maverick while these hi-jinks were going on?

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Somebody had to keep an eye on the Russians.
      All kidding aside, a lot of F-14 guys were pollywogs, too.

      Delete
  12. Fairly glad that I ate dinner hours before I read about this smelly ordeal.

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Hey, but if it came up, you'd have seconds.
      Okay, now, that WAS gross.

      Delete
  13. No good ever comes from large coolers.

    My friend had a huge bbq last year and they forgot about one of the turkeys they were going to deep fry. It sat under the deck in the cooler for MONTHS before they found it again. And then it sat at the edge of the yard for many more months while they tried to figure out what to do with it, because no one wanted to open it.

    Hope you had a good Labour Day! <3

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. That is too funny. I think I would have just tossed it in the trash. Or gave it to people you didn't like at Thanksgiving.

      Delete
  14. Did you ever initiate anyone in such a manner?

    ReplyDelete
    Replies
    1. Actually, no. The closest I came was at a Chief Petty Officer initiation. But I didn't harass anyone. Also, the first time I ever went to sea was the first and last time I crossed the equator.

      Delete