2006-07-23 - 3:24 p.m.
I'm not the slightest bit interested in us having World War III, whether it involves Israel or Iran or North Korea or some other belligerant country. But don't we all love and somewhat romanticize World War II and that era? I know I sure do. That was a war about which everybody agrees, I think; America was great and a savior to the world. And it was due to optimism after that war that we baby boomers arrived. So I guess World War II is in our blood.
That day cruise on the S.S. Lane Victory I went on Saturday was great and I think we really got our money's worth. They put on quite a show.
First we went through what they called a "Homeland Security" check (although I kind of doubt it really was Homeland Security, as we never got out of U.S. territorial waters), which involved checking our I.D. and our boarding passes, and inspecting whatever bags we brought on board (I had a backpack with my video camera, some blank video cassettes, a hat to shield me from the sun, some sunscreen, my wallet, my keys, and my cell phone--and cell phones definitely worked out there between the Port of Los Angeles and Catalina Island, which surprised me). Then we were welcomed into the boarding area of the pier, and up there on the dock they had a World War II Jeep and a lovely shiny black 1940s car, a Packard, I think, and a man in a sailor's uniform and a woman in a military nurse's uniform dancing a spirited jitterbug, while up on the ship's deck a Tommy Dorsey type of dance band played. Just to get us "In the Mood"!
So many people were in uniform, many of them currently in some branch of the service, others wearing whatever was once their former military uniform that they were still able to get into. And many of the guys there had actually served on this very ship, which meant that they had to be in their 80s, at least. One man there was celebrating his 90th birthday that day (they announced it over the ship's P.A. system). It was also a reunion of sorts, such as I was talking to one elderly man who had worked in the engine room of the ship during the war, when another elderly man walked by and the man I was talking to said, "Hey, Bob, you're the guy who used to relieve me--you had the shift that followed mine in the engine room!" Bob didn't really recognize the man I was talking to, but when the man showed Bob a photo of the two of them that was in the photo album he brought, then Bob got all emotional. It's hard to imagine what it must be like seeing somebody you once served with in the war that you hadn't seen for 60 years. And I am sure there was MUCH of that kind of stuff going on.
We were invited to start the day with coffee, sweet rolls, and muffins (I just had the coffee) and to find a chair on a spot on the complication of decks that would be our space all day. I headed straight for the bow of the ship, but in retrospect, that really wasn't the best place. Way up high on one of the bridge levels, or in the back over the fantail (which was shaded and the coolest area on that very hot day), or on the covered areas over the two holds were much better. It was one of the hottest days I can ever remember, so shade and keeping cool meant more than even having the best view.
However, you could certainly wander around, which I did a lot, so I got to enjoy a variety of views, perspectives, and temperatures.
The captain made an announcement that we ought to drink lots of water all day and they had ice cold bottled water available. Also, if we thought we might be seasick, they had some Dramamine. I was kicking myself for having not thought of either one, but when I went to get them and pulled my wallet out, I found out that both were available for free!
It's been a long time since I've seen such a huge variety of age groups together. This ship definitely appealed to the extremely elderly who were contemporary with the era, people who could hardly walk, yet they wanted to experience what they had been nostalgic for. But also the very young--kids who loved the ship and all the artifacts of war, such as the big guns on the various decks (this ship was armed), and there were always little kids sitting in a Jeep they had on deck and running around with helmets and gas masks on.
Also young guys helped work on this ship. There is a program called "The United States Naval Sea Cadets" which is like Eagle Scouts, I guess, except affiliated with the Navy and boys and girls as young as 11 years old can learn about ships and earn credits for work in the Sea Cadets which help them for when they ultimately join the Navy or Marines, if they decide to do that. They have Sea Cadet uniforms and earn ranks, and so on. They were working hard on this ship alongside the adults, pulling in and stashing ropes, and so on.
Flags flying and band playing, the captain blew the horn and the ship got underway and smoothly sailed down the main shipping channel of the Port of Los Angeles, and then made a turn to port and sailed along the outer edge of the port complex and then along the Port of Long Beach, where we could see the smokestacks of the Queen Mary. Other ships, such as container ships or oil tankers, slipped by us, and there were also the smaller sailboats and the Catalina Island ferry boats going by. One time a hugely powerful speedboat zoomed past us, their occupants waving proudly, and then a couple of guys and their girlfriends on jetskiis showed off and had a blast. The water looked beautifully blue and very refreshing.
Then our ship turned to the starboard side and sailed through the opening in the breakwater through Angel's Gate and out into the open sea. The captain announced that now that we were beyond the port, the pilot boat would come up alongside us and the pilot, a port official who guides ships in and out of the port, would step off our ship onto the pilot boat. "Have your cameras ready," the captain instructed us, "you will want to get a picture of that." And he was right! The pilot was all dressed up in a blazer with a tie, but as the much smaller shiny silver pilot boat synchronized its speed with the speed of our ship (neither vehicle stopped for this operation, it all happened with both boats in motion), members of our crew let down a rope ladder with wooden steps and the pilot climbed down the ladder from our moving ship onto the deck of the moving pilot boat. Then as we all clapped, waved, and cheered, the pilot boat did a sudden veer off and away and circled back to the port. It was like a circus act!
By now I figured it was time for a beer, so I made an exploration of the ship and found out where they were dispensing the beer, in the stern of the ship over the fantail. The guy dispensing the beer was so nice that I'd have gotten a beer from him even if I didn't want one. He told me that each passenger could get four beers, or four glasses of wine, or four soft drinks, or mix and match...punches on our ticket would keep track of how many we had. I was having trouble finding my wallet where I had stashed my ticket, I was feeling around inside the dark interior of my backpack. The guy said, "It doesn't matter, here, let me give you a beer," but I realized I couldn't see into the backpack because I was wearing dark glasses, something I almost never do. He gave me my beer, I took off my dark glasses, and then found my wallet, so to be honest and fair, I gave him my ticket to punch.
It seemed that on my way back to the bow of the ship, everybody saw the beer in my hand and asked me where I had gotten it. I think because of me, that nice guy back in the ship's stern suddenly got very busy!
After I finished my beer, I figured it was time to take a tour of the engine room. I really wanted to do that, I've always thought it would be so fascinating to be in the engine room of a ship that is under way.
I found where there was a line of people for that, so joined the line. In behind me came a very beautiful family, the woman looked like a model, her husband had looks to match, their teenage daughter could have stepped off the cover of Elle Magazine, and their curly-headed middle school boy shared the family's beauty. Based on how they looked and the fact that they spoke their English with a heavy accent, I asked them if they were from France. Bingo!
They were very funny and the woman kept joking about how claustraphobic she was, she didn't think she could go into the engine room, but the boy kept insisting that all four of them had to go in. Just previously they had visited the Russian submarine that is on display next to the Queen Mary, and that submarine had just about done her in. I told her that I had toured the Queen Mary, but I decided to skip the submarine for reasons of claustraphobia, but for sure, I was going into this ship's engine room. However, she just wasn't so sure.
As we were talking, the crew was counting people off into 8-person groups for the engine room tour. One of the crew members asked me if I were with them, meaning the French family I was talking with, but I said, "No, I'm with me." Everybody within earshot all up and down the line and also all the crew members standing there laughed uproariously over that one! I went on to explain my otherwise existentialist answer, "I mean, I'm by myself," but everyone seemed to just love my original answer. Anyway, by being "with me" and not with the French family, I was person number 8 in a particular engine room tour group and the French family became numbers 1 through 3 in the next tour (the mother decided she'd rather hear about it than experience it). So I got separated from them.
We were warned that the engine room was exceedingly hot and humid, but I felt it wasn't much worse than the normal air outside. The thermometer down there measured 110 degrees. However, those of us wearing glasses were in danger of our glasses slipping off our faces, so whenever we had to go down steep stairways, we were cautioned to use both hands on the handrails and to not look down, otherwise we might lose our glasses. However, it posed no problem (I guess mine fit very well).
The engine room was fascinating but looked exceedingly complicated with hundreds of pipes, valves and gauges, I couldn't imagine how anybody could ever learn how to work it all. I kept wanting to say in a very loud "Scotty" voice, "But Captain, I have to recharge the dialithium crystals!", but it was too noisy down there and thus I was saved from embarrasing myself with a joking comment that most visitors might not even get. (They'd have to be early Star Trek fans.)
We learned that these were two-stage steam turbine engines. The ship currently used diesel fuel in order to heat the water to make the steam, but in World War II they used some kind of heavy oil. Nowadays, the fuel costs $80 a barrel, and the ship's "mileage" is one barrel per mile. The round trip from Los Angeles to Catalina Island was something like 30 miles.
The hot steam first drives a high-pressure turbine, and then as the steam cools, condenses, and loses pressure, the lower pressure stream drives a low-pressure turbine, and then is recirculated for use again. The turbines turn the driveshafts which are connected to the propellers. After walking by the fuel tanks and the water supply and steam boilers, we got to walk along next to one of the driveshafts, which seemed to be about a foot and a half in diameter. It spun very smoothly.
From the engine room, we went into one of the two museums housed in the ship's cargo holds, filled with World War II memorabilia. They have several different versions of Jeeps, and some mines and torpedoes and degaussing equipment and radios. They have beautiful models of various Victory and Liberty ships (which were the supply ships for the war) and battle ships and other types of ships, including modern container ships and oil tankers.
They also have on board as a display a piston engine. When I told my father about this ship and the cruise I took (I called him today to tell him about it), he was surprised that the supply ships had turbine engines, he thought that they were all piston engines. I told him that a man down there explained to me that the difference between the Liberty ships and the Victory ships was their speed...that the Liberty ships were the original model, but the improved Victory ships were much faster. "Oh," Dad said, "that must explain it...the Liberty ships must have had piston engines, whereas the Victory ships had turbines, which were much faster engines."
Dad's first degree was in mechanical engineering, so he knows all about different engine systems.
The man in the museum told me that originally the Merchant Marine's Association wanted to save and restore a Liberty ship--ALL of the World War II supply ships were in mothballs in Suisun Bay near San Francisco. However, there were no Liberty ships left, all had been sold to India and Bangladesh for scrap (except, presumably, they were able to obtain one of the Liberty ship piston engines for this museum). I was amazed at what the cost was to get this Victory ship...nothing. The government allowed them to have it for free for the purpose of this living memorial (Congress had to pass a bill allowing them to have it, and President Reagan signed it). When I was a young child, I'd see those ships in Suisun Bay and wonder what it took to get one. However, even if an individual were able to get one of those for free, it wouldn't tend to be cost-effective as a personal yacht. First, the restoration expense; these ships in mothballs for several decades were really a mess. Next is the fuel cost. And, perhaps most cost-prohibitive, is the crew required to operate them...and how many people still living today even KNOW how to operate these ships?
I mentioned to Dad that the museum had a display that showed the formation of a fifty-ship convoy. I said that I never had known before that a convoy would have that many ships (in my mind, a "convoy" meant maybe eight ships, something like that). He said, "Oh yes, fifty ships is a small convoy; in the war, we'd have over a hundred ships in a convoy." It's hard for me to contemplate the might and power of such a thing as that. I said, "I'm surprised that just that alone wasn't enough for the Japanese to surrender." That it and other displays of military might wasn't enough to stop the Japanese underscores Dad's firm belief that we HAD to drop the bombs on Hiroshima and Yokohama in order to win the war, even though there are historians who disagree with that, that it was overkill on the part of the big bad U.S. However, I will take the word of someone like my father who was there and saw the loss of lives, instead of a historian sitting in an Ivory Tower.
I also told Dad that in that museum they had some other artifacts from the era, including some original water color paintings that had been used to make the menus for the dining room of the S.S. Lurline, a cruise ship that sailed between San Francisco and Honolulu. Dad sailed the Lurline countless times, because when he was a teenager, his family was stationed in Honolulu. Before the war, Dad played clarinet and saxophone in the dance band on the Lurline. Of course, he also fought in World War II; he had been commanding officer of a naval base on Okinawa. I wondered if among all these men who were on this cruise, especially among those who had once worked on these supply ships, if any one of them had ever met my father, even if only for a brief conversation, such as to affirm that a certain piece of equipment was on the manifest. Something that would be impossible to ever know, but is fun to contemplate. One thing I DO know, though, Dad would have LOVED this cruise. It's too bad he is too old and not well enough to have gone on it, but he sure did enjoy hearing about it!
After the engine room tour and going through the museums, it was time for lunch. They offered a delicious feast of roast beef, chicken, lasagna, potato salad, cole slaw, garden salad, mixed fruit, and dinner rolls. I sat at my spot near the ship's bow and enjoyed my lunch and the spectacular close-up view of Avalon and Catalina Island. Despite having gone to Catalina Island twice, now, I never knew how long that island really was until we sailed the length of it. And the water out there was such a pretty blue, a kind of deep Prussian blue.
After lunch, the captain made the announcement that he had received the intelligence that a German spy was somewhere on board, to keep an eye out for him. Then later, he made the announcement that he had some good news and some bad news--the good news was that the spy had been caught and the M.Ps were going to be parading him around to show us. The bad news was that he had been found in the radio room.
A little after that, guys dressed in M.P. uniforms took around to show us a mustachioed man in handcuffs dressed in a Nazi officer's uniform. We were supposed to hiss and jeer at him, but I felt sorry for the actor playing that part, handcuffed and wearing those hot woolen clothes in all that heat! However, when he walked by, I said something vaguely German-sounding to him (my real knowledge of the language having suddenly escaped me), something along the lines of "Achtung, Herr General, so, bist du encaptured!" or some other gutteral gibberish, which made one of the M.P.s joke, "Oh, so you KNOW him, maybe you're one of the German spies, too?"
"Nein, nein!" I protested. "I don't know a WORD of German!" The people around us laughed at the show.
Then later the Captain made another announcement, "Our worse fears have been confirmed, the German spy did manage to radio our location to his comrades." Suddenly we could hear off in the distance the sound of airplanes, and, sure enough, with much excitement, four German World War II fighter planes flew in overhead and crew members mounted the ship's guns and began with sound effects blasting away at the planes overhead. Airplane hobbyists from the Van Nuys airport had come through for us and really treated us to a great air show--buzzing around us and doing all sorts of aerial acrobatics, and leaving large smoky vapor trails like skywriters.
Suddenly, two more fighter planes zoomed in and I shouted out, "Look at the markings, these are Americans!" and they started dogfighting the German planes. The crowd cheered. It really was very exciting! Then it seemed that the Americans had managed to successfully rout the Germans and all the planes had disappeared. Then the captain announced that all six were regrouping for one more saluting fly-by, to get our cameras ready.
It took quite a while, but suddenly all six appeared on the horizon flying in perfect formation like the Blue Angels. We all clapped and cheered and just as they got overhead, all six blew out sky-writer vapor trails and it was extremely glorious!
After that, things quieted down to just a restful cruise for the remaining couple of hours as we sailed back to L.A. Time for more beer or soft drinks!
As we got to the breakwater, the pilot boat arrived and we got to watch the pilot reverse his circus act, this time deftly climb the ladder back up to the deck of our moving ship. Then we were guided through Angel's Gate and on up the shipping channel toward the Lane Victory's berth.
When we got to the Vincent Thomas Bridge, the ship had to turn around in the turning basin, and as we turned, the port's fireboat came out to salute us. This boat is apparently the single most powerful fire boat in the world, and it can pump so many gallons of water so fast that it can fill an Olympic swimming pool in ten seconds. The fireboat turned into a hugely spraying fountain, and then our ship blew its horn and all on deck waved and cheered at the fireboat.
Then two tugboats pushed us sideways into place alongside our berth. Crew members did all the stuff of getting us tied in place, and then it was time to disembark. A wonderful time was had by all, and, like after a day at Disneyland, some of the kids were crying that the adventure was now over.
I went out for dinner and then when I arrived back home, I did one of those "let me lie down for a minute, sleeping all the way through until morning" kind of things. I woke up with the sun shining through my windows (I hadn't closed the curtains) and I was still fully dressed. I hadn't taken a cooling shower like I had planned, and hadn't slathered my face and skin with post-sun aloe lotion or brushed my teeth. All that sun and sea air had really tired me out!
However, my skin is fine, the sunblock and hat worked. It's clear that I got some sun (I had gotten nine hour's worth!), but I'm not burned.
Like those crying kids at the end of the cruise, I'm not quite ready to leave the glory of World War II. I'd love to watch a great World War II movie like Memphis Belle or, if I can find it in my gigantic video stash, I'll enjoy once again In Harm's Way, starring John Wayne, Kirk Douglas, and Patricia Neil. That ought to do me...In Harm's Way is nearly a three-hour long war movie!
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