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SEA
STORIES
I
added this section hopefully to get the good old sea stories told.
Everybody has some. It may just take a jar in the memory or
something. I have a lot of memories when I served aboard the PRIME.
It was my first ship, my first time out at sea, my first ever underway
watches, not knowing anything at all, I was four months fresh out of
boot camp when I reported aboard. But after awhile you became... a
little more salty. But the story I would like to share with everyone
is when we received the Meritorious Unit Commendation.
We went along
side of the merchant ship RUTGERS VICTORY to assist the USS
CHANDLER (DD 717), extinguish this fire that they had in one of
there holds. When the fire was out and no longer a danger to
anyone, they let us have some of the cargo that was in that
hold...Well it was full of soda pop and "BEER" much to our delight.
We started loading trash cans almost full of beer, topped off with
soda's. Started bringing them aboard, got away with a few trash
cans, then making another run, who do you think was waiting at the
Quarterdeck? Chief Master-at-arms, and his assistant. They stopped
us cold, started checking inside the trash cans, and found our
bounty...Well, we got busted right there, had to round up all the
beer aboard, and deliver it to the MAA's for there safekeeping.
Lost it all. Later during the cruise, the Captain decided to have a
steak BBQ, allowed us three beers apiece. Boy was it GREAT!
Another account of
the fire aboard the RUTGERS VICTORY, was found from a former USS
CHANDLER sailor below;
On 13
November 1966, the CHANDLER was the first navy ship to answer the
call of the Victory ship SS RUTGERS VICTORY, which was burning
furiously in Nha Trang Harbor north of Saigon. While two army tugs
concentrated on cooling the ship’s hull, the Chandler's damage
control party led the struggle against the fire burning deep in the
stricken ship. The combined efforts of the CHANDLER, USS PRIME
(MSO-466), army tugs, a U.S. Air Force firefighting team, and the
RUTGERS’ own crew eventually conquered the blaze.
Was discussing the Prime a little while back with
GM2 Robertson, we recalled a incident that happen on the West Pac
cruise of 65. We had this one cook name of Walker, big fellow. It
was chow call, we had pork chops or something with all the trimmings,
and a really good looking brown gravy, he started serving it up, when
some of the crew thought that it tasted kind of soapy. Well what
happened when Walker looked on the shelve, his facial expression was
one of fright, then discovered that he had used liquid detergent
instead of oil. Realizing his mistake, this guy of very large
structure, moved so fast into the Wardroom, swept the bowl of gravy
off the Officers table, got out of there real quick. I don't think I
have ever seen him move faster. Let me tell you some of the crew
spent sometime in head for awhile.
This is a memory from GM2 Robert Robertson:
Do you remember
Mr. MINAULT { don't know about spelling} . My special sea detail
was the helm an underway was boatswain of the watch. Mr. Minault use
to get seasick before the lines were cast off. I always wondered about
him, I doubt he owns a yacht. I had the watch one night he was on the
deck sick an I was keeping us on station, The Capt came on the bridge
wanted to know where he was, it was dark. I think he was sent below to
his bunk. Have a good evening. Bob
Memory from Patrick NOLAN
(I am just going to paste his story)
Paul:
I have a few stories. Here's one. In 1956, the division got
caught in two typhoons. With the second, we were able to make it to
port, I don't know, Yokosuka perhaps, can't remember now. Gusts, at
their peak, I believe were in the 150 mph range, and it was raining.
Turned out we got sent into a small basin with three sides of it being
able to hold two ships bow to stern. The fourth side was half seawall
and half opened to access to open water. We made the basin before the
winds really got to blow. The Prime was placed aft of another division
MSO, the Reaper, the Force, can't remember. As the winds increased, we
quadrupled all lines, and when the wind got over 100 mph, we put over
the towing cable. And then the wind really powered up. After maybe
10-15 minutes, all the mooring lines parted. We were beginning to
bounce around like a billiard ball at the end of a string of
spaghetti. Then, believe it or not, the towing cable parted, and it
sounded like a 16" gun went off. And then we became the billiard ball.
With winds now over 125 mph, we started bouncing off the other ships
along side, off the Reaper and off the other four ships alongside the
seawall pier. Turns out that right alongside the Prime, there was a
small railway for a yard crane to ride back and forth. At its height,
the wind blew over the crane directly across the bridge of the MSO in
front of the Prime. The wave action was so high in the confined space,
the the Reaper, I think, began, as it rode the churn of the waves, to
saw its bridge in half, even as we began to make some serious hits on
other ships. All four engines on line and we could not counteract the
wind. The Capt., Capt.Ball, then decided the only thing we could do
was to get out to sea. It would be safer there than sinking in that
basin. So, we tried to clear the opening to open water. The sea wall
was concrete, and the winds powered us right down on that wall,
stoving in the port bow. Later, we could see daylight through it. No
open sea now. We had to make it as a billiard ball. Somehow the yard
got a tug to us, and it tried to pin us up against the other ships
alongside, but the typhoon had its own ideas. We not only were now
hitting other ships; the tug was ramming us. The C.O. finally had to
throw his flashlight--this was all from about 8PM to perhaps 5AM the
following morning--at the tug. The tug got the idea. We then had to
try and put a mattress over the side and get it snug against the hole
in the hull. With the rain blowing near 150 mph now, opening my eyes
was a bit of a problem, but with the help of two exceptional
Electricians 1st, Koy and Miller, we got the thing done. I should say,
they got the thing done. In desperation, the Capt. decided to drop the
anchor, and for some damn reason, it held on something, with no drag
to it. At short chain, we were able to circle without hitting the
other ships again. And thus, we rode out the typhoon.
We had to part the anchor chain in order to get back alongside
when the winds died down. The first thing Capt. Ball did when we got
doubled up was to open the liquor locker and everyone on board had his
drink straight up. And then we watched a barge come into the basin to
retrieve our anchor. It almost defied belief to watch that little
chain of ours come up with the anchor hooked onto a cruiser's anchor
chain. It was enormous by comparison. Seems the Japanese Navy had
dropped the chain there for reasons no one could fathom, for the basin
had been a sub pen during the war. Almost immediately after, all five
of the division MSO's went into one dry dock--five, stem to stern in
one dry dock. The picture of that was on the cover of some Naval
magazine a couple of weeks later. That was a night to remember. Though
we had to have a few bodies topside during the whole thing, no one got
injured; no one went over. It was one hell of a night.
SEA STORIES
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