And so many nights I sit and dream of the ocean, God I wish I was sailing againJimmy Buffet, Changes in Latitudes, Changes in Attitudes
I spent the last three years of my twenty years of naval service in New Orleans, Louisiana, attached to the staff of Commander, Naval Surface Reserve Forces. I had decided that I would not serve more than twenty years in the Navy, and I definitely did not want to spend the last three in New Orleans. I was a sea-going sailor; of my previous seventeen years of service, I had spent ten of them on sea duty. I wanted to return to sea. I loved going to sea. But, God had other plans.
I was truly blessed to have served under three Admirals while I was stationed in New Orleans, officers whom I still hold in great esteem and respect; Rear Admiral Frank Harness, Rear Admiral John Brunelli, and Rear Admiral Stanton Thompson. All three are honorable men, of whom I am proud to have served. I have no doubt that their capabilities and service to the United States Navy and the country far exceeded mine to them. But, it was not sea duty. It was shore duty, and worst of all, it was staff duty.
I have never been comfortable on land. I have never been comfortable with being in the same place for more than three years. I have always felt more comfortable while serving in the Navy on sea duty. I have always been more comfortable on the deck of a ship. I understood things much better there than I do on land.
We had a dear friend and sister as our guest tonight for dinner. Our conversation changed, somehow, to when Janet and I were married nearly thirty years ago in Tokyo, Japan. That recalled a flood of memories for me, which I wanted to tell my sons. I am sure our dear friend felt out of place with the conversation.
Of all the captains I have served, one stands out. Captain Ed Finn. I am an Ed Finn trained man. I have more sea stories about Captain Finn than I have memories. Captain Finn taught me how to drive a ship like one drives a car, a sports car. He taught me to feel the ship, not only through my eyes, but through my feet. Feel the ship surge ahead through the vibration she drives through the soles of your feet. He taught me how to lead men through the most difficult of circumstances, to excel at their responsibilities. He taught me how to take care of my men.
Captain Finn taught me the beauty of celestial navigation. Under his tutelage, I learned to appreciate the beauty of the Milky Way, the Southern Cross, the green flash., and a three star fix. Under his instruction, I learned that the sea was not just the environment upon which I operated, but the sea became a part of me and I a part of it.
I would like to talk with Captain Finn and thank him for taking an interest in me and teaching me how to be an officer in the United State Navy. Regretfully, he died several years ago while undergoing a lung transplant. I would like to thank him for teaching me that naval officers belong at sea and not in the Pentagon or on some staff choking on bureaucratic crap.
God, I wish I was sailing again.
If you are confused about the title A Little Langiappe, then I owe you an explanation. In New Orleans, langiappe means a little something extra. Do you remember when you could go to the counter at Woolworth's and order a vanilla malt (not a shake!), and they would mix the malt in a metal cup using a Hamilton Beach or a Waring mixer? Do you remember the malt left in the bottom of the mixer cup after they poured the malt? That's lagniappe, or a little something extra. This is a little something extra.
If you have never experienced langiappe, then you best get yourself to New Orleans. Make sure you visit Mulate's and Preservation Hall. And the Camellia Grill for breakfast. Have a beignet (or three) with cafe au lait at Cafe du Monde for me.
Have a blessed New Year.
I was truly blessed to have served under three Admirals while I was stationed in New Orleans, officers whom I still hold in great esteem and respect; Rear Admiral Frank Harness, Rear Admiral John Brunelli, and Rear Admiral Stanton Thompson. All three are honorable men, of whom I am proud to have served. I have no doubt that their capabilities and service to the United States Navy and the country far exceeded mine to them. But, it was not sea duty. It was shore duty, and worst of all, it was staff duty.
I have never been comfortable on land. I have never been comfortable with being in the same place for more than three years. I have always felt more comfortable while serving in the Navy on sea duty. I have always been more comfortable on the deck of a ship. I understood things much better there than I do on land.
We had a dear friend and sister as our guest tonight for dinner. Our conversation changed, somehow, to when Janet and I were married nearly thirty years ago in Tokyo, Japan. That recalled a flood of memories for me, which I wanted to tell my sons. I am sure our dear friend felt out of place with the conversation.
Of all the captains I have served, one stands out. Captain Ed Finn. I am an Ed Finn trained man. I have more sea stories about Captain Finn than I have memories. Captain Finn taught me how to drive a ship like one drives a car, a sports car. He taught me to feel the ship, not only through my eyes, but through my feet. Feel the ship surge ahead through the vibration she drives through the soles of your feet. He taught me how to lead men through the most difficult of circumstances, to excel at their responsibilities. He taught me how to take care of my men.
Captain Finn taught me the beauty of celestial navigation. Under his tutelage, I learned to appreciate the beauty of the Milky Way, the Southern Cross, the green flash., and a three star fix. Under his instruction, I learned that the sea was not just the environment upon which I operated, but the sea became a part of me and I a part of it.
I would like to talk with Captain Finn and thank him for taking an interest in me and teaching me how to be an officer in the United State Navy. Regretfully, he died several years ago while undergoing a lung transplant. I would like to thank him for teaching me that naval officers belong at sea and not in the Pentagon or on some staff choking on bureaucratic crap.
God, I wish I was sailing again.
If you are confused about the title A Little Langiappe, then I owe you an explanation. In New Orleans, langiappe means a little something extra. Do you remember when you could go to the counter at Woolworth's and order a vanilla malt (not a shake!), and they would mix the malt in a metal cup using a Hamilton Beach or a Waring mixer? Do you remember the malt left in the bottom of the mixer cup after they poured the malt? That's lagniappe, or a little something extra. This is a little something extra.
If you have never experienced langiappe, then you best get yourself to New Orleans. Make sure you visit Mulate's and Preservation Hall. And the Camellia Grill for breakfast. Have a beignet (or three) with cafe au lait at Cafe du Monde for me.
Have a blessed New Year.
Sing to the LORD a new song, Sing His praise from the end of the earth! You who go down to the sea, and all that is in it.Isaiah 42:10
No comments:
Post a Comment