Tuesday, March 10, 2009

T.I.N.S. Action, again!

The Boat Bum did not make it back to Barco, yesterday. I went home and made Teletubby Salad for the Spousal Unit, and then we did a couple of laps around the 'hood. The day was too nice to waste working or watching the tube.

Have you ever watched Teletubbies? Teletubbies was a Childrens TV show from the 90's and it was classic government indoctrination, totally focused on the two and four year olds. I kid you not. Watch the eerie focus of the computer generated images. The creepy sun, with baby face super-imposed, giggling and laughing as it supervises the Teletubbies and their daily routines.

A Voice issues instructions from the loudspeaker, and the speaker is camouflaged to look like a sunflower. Teletubbies are directed when to watch tv, exercise and eat. I am so effin creeped out.

Apparently, about eight years ago, some agitator came out and claimed that the Teletubby "Tinky Winky" was living an alternative life style.

Then, accusations started flying about that the so-called religious right was starting up an initiative to remove the TV show because of a so called "Gay Character".

I call B.S.; This is/was a transparent attempt to portray Conservatives as intolerant about imaginary Gay characters, who are purply complected with triangles on their heads... How would we know the character swings in a different way?

The TV show is creepy, but they win because I am obsessing about it. Clearly, I am in some sort of closet in a green bunker, wishing I can carry a magic handbag, getting three hots and a cot with entertainment provided by Public Broadcasting, which is transmitted on the bellies of fictitious creatures!

But we do luv's us sum Teletubby Salad... Can't we just have television without ulterior propaganda?

Soooo, back to our T.I.N.S. show!

By the way, that acronym is "This is a no sh&**$#".

Example:

Q: Do you know the difference between a "Fairy Tale" and a "Sea Story"?

A: 1. One begins, "Once upon a time..."

2. The other begins with, "This is a No Sh&**$#" or ..."And there I was."

Both may contain the same amount of fact and fiction.

I might offer, "How is this for a build up?"

To that you might reply in one voice, "GET ON WITH IT!"

Ok, the place was the Caribbean Sea. The Ship; Strike Trawler Deyo, DD-989.

We were on our second Counter Drug OPS mission for 1992, and we were having a rough time of it. Flight quarters at 0530, lift off at 0545, fly until 1245 (missing breakfast and lunch) Relaunch at 1300 and secure from flying at 1700.

Fish call at 1730, the Ship would slow to two knots and the crew given the opportunity to fish. Hence the affectionate knick-name "Strike Trawler". A big fishing boat with 5 inch guns and missiles. And a hundred fishing poles.

Each week or so, we would pull into some fabulous island for food and fuel. Usually Gitmo and Roosey Roads, but sometimes someplace cool. Like Curacao.


View Larger Map

We pulled into Willemsted, moved up the river just past the swinging bridge, docked at the highway crossing.





As we entered, I spied a hundred foot Ketch, docked by the down town. It's still there, I saw it a year or two back.

Anyway, my buddy Lee and I went out on our normal reconnaisance for cheap beer and family style entertainment.

We approached the Ketch and hailed the American Captain, who was kind enough to invite us aboard and offered us beer. Of course, the Captain was hoping to get us to sign up for the day trip, $45.00 and two Planter's Punches with lunch thrown in.

The Captain of the Charter Vessel


After my third free Polar Beer, I noticed that business was a little slow. Especially since the Captain admitted that only six tourists were signed up for the next day.

I made like I was the world class sailor, and talked mucho grande about how I could get a number of genuine Sailors and return for a gran tour of the island, maybe at the reduced price of $25.00 per? With all the beer we could drink???

Yes.

So Lee and myself continued drinking the free Polars, and concocted a plan of plans. We stumbled back to the Deyo around 2200 (Ten PM for you Land Lubbers).

Up and down the length of the ship we did traverse, but only 15 or so takers for this non-ship approved trip. None of the Airdales would have it, either,

Homo's.

(I mean that in the French way, Un homme, meaning Man.)

Next day, me and sixteen Men from Deyo sauntered up to the Sailing Ship. The six civilians watched nervously as we filed aboard, we hoped we looked like Piratical Desperadoes, as the Maidens were trying to press themselves out of view.

As I was the leader of this motley crew, I offered our assistance in getting underway and in the handling of the vessel at sea. Seaman La Mattina, of Deck Division took his place at the helm. Myself and the rest strategically placed our selves by the halyards to heave and pull the sails into place. We were underway by 1130, the trades-breeze was gentle from the East and the main brace was spliced.

Glory.

I had never felt so good to be a Sailor..

Me in front of green shorts, yelling for every man to "heave and pull with a will!"


My friend Lee Bonawitz, heaving on a Main Halyard;


We were like Rock Stars, for a day onboard that small ship. I think the six civilians began to warm up to us when they could see how competent the Destroyer Men were, on an old sailing vessel. We began sailing to the Northeast, looking for the cove that the vessel's owner lived.

Three meat barbeque.

And all the beer.

And we continued heaving and pulling. The paid crew just got out of our way and took a break.


You can kinda see the civilians hiding out in the upper right corner, by the helm.
I think they were getting a kick out of us taking the ship over.


I have more pictures, just have to find and upload.

We pulled into a little bay, and we swam ashore for the barbeque. A little snorkeling and frolicking, and back to the City Dock. We arrived around 2200. Tired and shagged out from the best day at sea, ever.

The ship was completely out of beer and rum. We all went back to Deyo with real sea stories, and had terrific hangovers for the morning.

For 25 bucks a person.

TINS!

5 comments:

Buck said...

Quite the sea story, DC. All y'all done GOOD while lookin' good, and the price was MOST definitely right! One thing, tho... you didn't explain what "... and the main brace was spliced." meant. I know, but only because Lex just recently defined the term for us land-lubbers.

As for the Teletubbies... my youngest was just a year old when the show hit PBS back in the day and it was "don't miss" teevee at my house. The boy was a veritable dynamo at that age but sat, mesmerized, while the show was on. I thought it kinda cool, myself, and SN3 and I watched it together. The Second Mrs. Pennington and I got a BIG kick out of the "Tinky-Winky is gay!" thing... talk about stoopid...

Barco Sin Vela II said...

Hey Buck,
I hope I was clear that I wasn't judging Tinky Winky, how could anyone decide lifestyle from a silly imaginative character?

But I always got a funny feeling when Bugs Bunny wore a dress, to quote Wayne's World.

The Main Brace for us was the "Punch Planteur" we slammed before getting underway. Mmmm, Rum Punch....

Bob said...

Deyo was already a Strike Trawler back in '81 when I was onboard her. The fishermen were a dedicated bunch. On one occasion the CT division was summoned aft to the fantail to do a gunshoot with small arms: .45's, 12-gauge riot guns, and M14's. I got to participate since I was TAD to CT division at the time. The fishermen were towing a large dead fish behind the ship as a sort of chum, and that fish became our target, being shot to doll rags in short order.

Barco Sin Vela II said...

Deyo was a shootin' ship, for sure. Every day it seemed, small arms training.

Good for morale.

graggg said...

Splice the mainbrace is an order given aboard naval vessels to issue the crew with a drink. Originally an order for one of the most difficult emergency repair jobs aboard a sailing ship, it became a euphemism for authorized celebratory drinking afterward, and then the name of an order to grant the crew an extra ration of rum or grog. The phrase is a mainstay of pirate vernacular in popular culture.
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