There was a long line at the ticket counter, which was already unusual for a simple flight to Phoenix? We waited and waited, as the lines got longer and longer. Looking at the flight board we noticed that our flight ‘was delayed’… this caused some consternation since we had only 45 minute connection time to meet our flight to Honolulu in Phoenix.

Finally getting to the counter, we were informed by the ‘supervisor’ that the Phoenix flight was delayed by at least an hour and a half. Suffice to say, that caused me to panic! I asked her how we were going to make our connecting flight to Honolulu. She stated that we would not be able to make that flight, but that US Airway would be able get us a flight out the next day (Saturday). I told her that was not an option, as we were to meet my sons ship coming home from the gulf on Saturday, not to mention I had driven over an hour to even get to the airport and had already paid for our rooms and rental car (effective 9/21). She responded with :” You’re shit outta luck, there are no later flights to Honolulu today.” Insanity ruled! As I was ready to jump across the ticket counter and pull her brains out through her nostrils. The lady turned her back on us and proceeded to assist another customer. I was dismissed? Thankfully another ticket agent came to assist us. After considerable time checking for flights and connections, she finally found a Honolulu flight leaving Las Vegas at 2:45am. (I was thankful) We were able to catch a flight to Phoenix then re-route to Las Vegas with a lay-over in Vegas of 7 hours, then catch the red-eye to Honolulu, arriving at 5:30am, Honolulu time. Day late and how many dollars short? We were offered meal tickets for $10.00 for our inconvenience? Enough to purchase a slice of pizza and a soda. (be still my heart)

I had contacted our hotel and car rental, thankfully they were holding both for our arrival, we did not get credit for the day we were not able to use either.

We were greatly concerned as to the arrival of our luggage, I had visions of nothing to wear during the entire Tiger Cruise (in retrospect that would not have mattered) and spending days trying to locate missing luggage? Thankfully our suitcases were waiting for us.

By this time we had been traveling for 19 hours, difficult on a good day…but, being a smoker…well… you can imagine? I was having some serious nicotine withdrawals….and still no smoking anywhere? Through bleary eyes I watched the sun rise, the palm trees and what looked like storm clouds on the horizon. Thought a good storm would be the icing on my cake and voiced that opinion to our cab driver. Was promptly informed as to the perfect environment that Hawaii offers to its visitors. NO storms! Was truly chastised. Apparently the clouds look like that every morning.

We picked up our rental car and checked into our Hotel (Hokele Waikiki Suites) at 9am. Time flies when you’re having fun!

The staff at the car rental and the hotel were very friendly, quite a change from our airline experience and we were ready to start our vacation on a good note.

I couldn’t wait to get to my room, with great foresight I had booked a smoking room!! First things first…made a pot of coffee.. ran out to the lanai to enjoy my view of the parking area? And have a long awaited cigarette. Sighs…. While enjoying the view, cigarette and the beautiful white pigeons roosting on my balcony…I noticed a sign ..NO smoking!

I thought “What the hell!!” The hotel was totally booked and there was no way I could change rooms. A slight error? Maybe to them.. but disaster for me. Seems the smoking rooms were on the top floor of the hotel.. hey, I could have had a ‘view’ and a ‘smoke!’

Alas, it was not to be! Resigned myself to my view of the apartment building across from the parking area, but I was in Hawaii!!! Yeah!! Speaking of parking, a $15 fee was attached to the cost of the room just to park. There was no street parking. But, all was well, I was in Hawaii and getting ready to get my son from the ship. Six month is a very long time and I missed him greatly!!

I had bought a new laptop in anticipation of being able to take lots of pictures and downloading them from the camera. Sadly, this too was not to be. Vista is not compatible with my Olympus Camera.

Ergo, I had dragged along a hockey puck?

Since the hotel had on-line access, I thought I could log on and at least get some information as to where to go to meet the ship and where to sign on as a Tiger for the cruise. (cost of online access $15 a day) and to think I thought Wi-Fi was free?

Did not manage to get any info on the ships where-abouts or the Tiger sign in.

Resorted to the good old fashioned telephone (at least my cell phone still worked) Was told I could not meet the ship at the dock and could not sign in for Tiger Cruise without my sponsor. Tried to explain my dilemma, that I needed to meet my son somewhere, as he was my sponsor, but I couldn‘t go to meet him, without him being there to sign me into base? Something wrong with this picture? The base information sailor was very nice and told me to go to the Main Gate (wherever that was) and gave me the time the ship would be arriving. It was something at least. (had to take a break on the lanai for another illegal smoke)

One would think that driving on a small island would be easy. After all, go so far and you’ll just run into the sea? Not quite… we headed out from the hotel, with instructions to get to Pearl Harbor. Now let me explain, Honolulu has one-way streets going everywhere. So, by the time we got out of our hotel and made a few left turns, we were headed the wrong way. Suffice to say the traffic was very congested. If it weren’t for the palm trees and ocean view, I would have thought I was in downtown Manhattan.

And this was on a Saturday?

I would mention the streets we were on, but I can’t pronounce them, much less spell them. We finally got on the right highway, heading for Pearl City. There was some sort of accident (hopefully no one was injured) and the traffic came to a stop. I was getting frantic as time was running out and I was afraid I’d miss my son coming out of the Main Gate. We drove and drove… looking for a sign that said Pearl Harbor. Guess that would have been to easy?

There was no sign and we ended up in a subdivision. At the end of a cul-de-sac we saw the ocean and Ford Island. Phone rings… its my son asking ‘where the hell we were” I tried to explain and told him we were coming and to stay put, do not leave!!…Turned around, drove another 14 miles and turned into the general direction…phew…finally saw a ‘gate’ and the USS Nimitz docked. We had arrived!! We approached the gate and joined the line of cars waiting for sailors. Were told by security we could not stay there and to drive around until we saw our son. Not an easy feat, the turn around went to the NEX, another exit further up, then back for another turn around. Drove in circles for what seems endlessly.

Tried to phone my son, his phone was busy. By this time I was mumbling to myself as to my son calling friends etc. when we were trying to find him… grrrrrrr. Finally got through, seems he was standing at the bus stop waiting for a bus to the NEX. He said he’d waited and waited and he was heading for the NEX and we should meet him there. I was getting pretty annoyed!! Another go around from gate to NEX. Seemed to me, if we had known he was going there, we could have met half an hour ago? Kids!!

Finally get back to the NEX and I didn’t see him…. Drove around the parking lot, silently fuming. Finally, there he was, wearing some silly wig… hell, his own mother (me .. haha) wouldn’t have recognized him? Started our meeting off with an argument, everyone was tired and stressed out. Sleep? What is that??

It was great to see him though and we had some great hugs and kisses!! All was well in my world!!

Then the bad news, something had gone wrong with a fuel cell on one the fighters, and my sons shop was ‘on duty’. No liberty time for spending time with Tigers and enjoying Hawaii. We were not amused and I started smoking in my ‘non smoking rental car’. I asked my son where I could voice my complaints? Captain of the ship seemed like a good place for me to start. I believe in going straight to the horses mouth, so to speak. I had a list of gripes ready for this man, what with only 2 liberty stops throughout the entire cruise? Sadly, I had to calm myself down, because any gripes I might have would only bounce back down on my sons head and I did not want that.

We found our way back to Waikiki and our hotel. Aaron took a much needed shower!! Then we noticed there was some sort of oil and/or grease on his clothes. Apparently he had rubbed up on something coming off the ship. Can’t have that… I don’t like dirt.

He borrowed a T-shirt from his dad and we looked for a place to buy him new shorts and T-shirt. On Waikiki…duh… Did find a very nice outfit. Under my sons protests (he does not like me spending money on him) I went up to the register to pay for these two items. They should offer chairs… I almost passed out… the cost of said two items $150.00 (we were not at Saks).. Well, that included tax. Haha Welcome to Hawaii Mom!

Aaron had not had any decent meat in six month, so we decided to go to Ruth Chris, at least he could show off his new shorts? Not exactly dress code for this place, but they did let us in.. sans reservations. I like this place as the food is always exceptional. In great anticipation we ordered filet all around, baked potatoes and Aaron also ordered broccoli. Appetizers stuffed mushrooms and escargo… my favorite!! I was salivating, had not had snails in eons.. Took a bite and kept chewing and chewing and chewing??

Seems the damn things got bigger the more I chewed. Queried the waiter as to wether the snails were canned? Sure nuff…. They were…. Blech… The waiter was surprised I noticed, seems no one else had ever noticed the snails were tough? Duh… clientele must be different on the island? People would have noticed in St. Louis. At least we got credit back for inedible appetizers, not that it made a ding in the bill. The steaks were wonderful and lived up to their name. It was wonderful watching my son enjoy his meal!!

After dinner, we decided to walk around look at the shops, the market and my favorite ‘people watching’. A confluence of different languages. I found it fascinating. We shopped for souvenirs. Returned to the hotel at 11:30pm. Had to get up at 5am to take Aaron back to the ship for muster by 6am. Found our way back to the ship without difficulty this time and sat in the car and watched the sun-rise. After Aaron came back to the car, an hour later we went to have breakfast back on Waikiki. Nice little sports bar, served Eggs Benedict and fresh squeezed orange juice at a reasonable price.

We decided to make the most of the little time we had on the island and I thought Diamond Head would be worth a visit. We drove to the entrance and had to wait a short while to park. Seems everyone had the same idea? A nice paved walk-way led toward the mountain. I was under the impression the trek was handicap accessible (paved walkway?) not the case. After about 100 feet the walkway turned into a lumpy path covered with roots, rock and dirt. Needless to say I was wearing flip flops… not the right footwear! But, I slogged on, I was not going to be defeated by a little climb. Had also dragged my purse along (why do we women always have a purse? Like there are opportunities to shop on top of a mountain?) My purse not only had the usual junk, car keys, airline tickets, wallet, compact etc. etc ..but also my camera and my knitting, plus I am a rock hound and cannot resist any loose pebbles laying around. Suffice to say, my purse was heavy!! My son took off running, stating he would check and see how far away the top was. Duh… I didn’t see him for the next hour. People were passing me left and right. The path is so narrow that one has to stand sideways for anyone passing and coming back from the top. I slogged on, encouraged by well-wishers passing me, that I was almost there… I still don’t know where ‘there’ is…..

The path turned around a corner and I made the mistake of looking up. There, way above me was a stream of people and no ‘top’ in sight. Sweating and wheezing I managed to get to a sunny bench. It was a relief to just sit and put down my purse. After my consciousness returned I was able to enjoy the view of Honolulu and the beaches. Thinking I had ‘arrived’ I started to take some pictures. A young man stood beside me and congratulated me on having made it half way up. (There’s one in every crowd??) He said” “You’ve almost made it to the steps!” I heard ‘steps’ and made the mistake of asking “What steps?” As you may imagine he was only to thrilled to enlighten me. Apparently there were about 90 steps and then a tunnel and then some more steps and then some kind of hole to climb through and then a spiral staircase and then the “top”. My vision blurred! I responded with ‘That can’t be right, I saw a sign stating it was 1/8 of mile to the top.” He looked at me, laughed and said: “1.8 miles”. Now, I am mathematically challenged and have no idea what the difference between 1/8 and 1.8 might be. Yet, still no sign of my son and that should have been a clue?

A group of men and women my age came bounding up the path and I was enervated.. I will not be defeated! I joined their ranks and proceeded toward the next obstacle… the first set of steps….

I like to think I did not slow them up to much. This seemed to be a group of people that climbed the Alps fur amusement, certainly they did not smoke. They never even broke a sweat! Well, they didn’t have purses either? After what seemed like an eternity we arrived at the ‘steps’. I clamored, huffing and puffing toward a bench, while my climbing companions did not break stride and virtually leaped up those steps. One has to keep in mind that I work on my feet all day and manage to get myself from point A to point B at a reasonable pace.. Ergo I thought I was in shape (for my age?) Most deflating to ones ego. But I was not done in yet…bounced up of that bench mumbling my mantra :”I will not be defeated…I will not be defeated” and approached the steps. We all know what they say about ‘pride’? (It’ll give you a heart attack)

I did manage to get up those 90 steps and the tunnel, which thankfully offered shade and a cool breeze, some more steps (I think.. was getting a little light headed by then), all the way to the next obstacle….. The hole…. I do not do holes! Crawling on my hands and knees through a hole was not an option. At this point I had to ask myself “why are you doing this?” and decided I had proved my womanhood by getting that far and I had enough and headed back down to look for ‘water’ and shade.

The entire trek had taken almost 1 1/2 hours and my son did not catch up to me until I was back on the paved walk way.

Never made it to the spiral stair case or the top, but I went where no one I knew, had gone before. J

At this point I felt I was ready to board the USS Nimitz, after all how much more difficult could that be?

Ignorance is bliss! And the best was yet to come!

After our little venture to Diamond Head we stopped at Waikiki Beach. My son to get a tan and me to soak my feet in the ocean and collect a few more rocks for my purse.

The rest of the day was spent signing on as Tiger on the USS Nimitz and watch a film as to how to get around the ship. Now, I’m not much for reading instructions and such, ergo, I talked to others during the presentation and did not take much of that in. Lots of numbers to follow on different levels of the ship etc. and as I’ve stated earlier numbers defeat me, so I figured how tough can this be? Didn’t I not just almost get to the top of Diamond Head? duh..

The Tiger paperwork that had been sent to me advised that I would have a female sailor taking me around and telling where to go and what to do. I felt confident of my ability to deal with any situation. After signing in, my son took me to the ‘female berthing’ I must say I did not much like the sound of that…. Berthing/birthing.. He was not allowed entry! No males in female berthing and vise versa? He sent another female sailor in to look for my ‘female sponsor.’ She was no where to be found!

I did not get to see my bed, due to not having ‘my sponsor’ with me. Still, I was not concerned as I would not be boarding until the next morning. Frankly, at this point I was more concerned with having dinner and a hot bath (correction: shower, my hotel room had no tub) and not necessarily in that order. We spent another hour looking around the ship and admiring the jets and various weaponry on display. I was awed by the sheer size of the hangar bays. A most magnificent warship!!

One of Aaron’s shipmates also had a Tiger, her aunt, and we decided to meet them in the Tower at Don’ Ho’s. Pizza was the food of choice there. Not exactly what I had in mind, so we went upstairs, sat on a lanai overlooking the ocean. Lanai or not, still no smoking allowed. Aaron and his friend, Jill, proceeded to chug “jaeger’s’ and various and sundry alcohols. ah, the young. A good time was had by all! Did I mention it rained? A lovely misty rain, felt good in the heat.

ON BOARD THE USS NIMITZS

It was rise and shine early, we had to be boarded by 9am. Everyone had to shower and pack. Packing always takes me the longest, I seem to accumulate things when I travel.

I arose first, I need my coffee and cig to start my day or all is lost.

Watched the sun rise over the parking lot and apartment building from the lanai.. The birds weren’t awake yet. Actually, neither was I and seemed to have twisted my ankle somewhere on the previous days jaunt. I had not noticed that the night before, what a few drinks wont do for you?

Can’t remember where we had breakfast, do like to think we did have some? Oh yes.. We also had to take our rental car back to the airport and call a taxi from there. So much to do, so little time.

Thankfully our cab was able to take us on base and directly to the check-in point. A mile had to be traversed on foot, lugging my bulging suitcase, my hokey-puck laptop and my purse, rocks included. Finally reaching the ship, I was again awed by the mere size and had to stop to take a picture. I felt Lilliputian by comparison. My son and his father had continued on while I was taking the pictures, which left me arriving solo at the ladder leading up to the hangar. Funny how I had not noticed the ladder the previous day, nor how steep it was.. But then I wasn’t lugging anything. My luggage had wheels, but it refused to wheel itself up the ladder. I had to lift each item by the handles and carry them up the ladder, leaving no free hand to grab the metal handholds for balance. Cannot remember exactly how I managed this, do remember praying not to fall off and land in the ocean. That would have been the ultimate humiliation, not to mention life threatening. At this point I was admiring the other Tigers luggage… small and compact. Guess they heeded the instruction letter.

Aaron and his father were waiting for me in the hangar and I was told to wait for my female sponsor while Aaron took his father to the male berthing. Glad for the reprieve I sat down on my suitcase and waited……… and waited. Other moms were being greeted by their sponsors and still I waited.

Having left his father to unpack, my son returned and asked: “You’re still here?”… duh…. And then went in search of my sponsor. I sat and wished I could have a cigarette. Aaron returned with a young marine woman who had offered to assist me, seems my sponsor was still missing.

This girl (probably shouldn’t call her that, but all young women are girls to me) was wonderful. She grabbed my suitcase (I admire strength in a woman) and told me to follow her. Off we went through three hangars bays, underneath two fighter jets, through a door, down a hallway, through another door, down another hallway, up a flight of stairs (ladder at 45 degree angle) down another hallway, up another flight of stairs, through two , what I perceived to be portholes, to a curtain. She opened the curtain to show me the female bathing/toilet area. Even had I been able to catch my breath, I would have been struck dumb. I saw four toilet stalls and four sinks and two showers. Mumbling ‘Oh My God’ I thanked her kindly.

She traversed through the curtain and opened a narrow door….

My female berthing! I was struck blind! Groping along the wall I entered a dark dungeon. As my eyes adjusted to the darkness I saw a narrow pathway (2 feet) with bits of curtains (?) between lots of metal (steel)… words failed me! (I had a bit of a clue as to what to expect, but nothing had prepared me for this.) It was freezing in there, dark and clammy after the heat of Honolulu and the rest of the ship. My guide flipped on a light and proudly spread her arms and said: “Here we are!” She had found my ‘rack’, my name and information was taped to the side of this thing. I could not believe my eyes. My rack was on the floor?

Bottom rack, a prime location? Uhuh.. She mumbled something about my so-called sponsor not having made up my rack and stated she was going to try to get me some sheets etc. and off she went. I stood there not knowing what to do, staring at my suitcases then back at the rack trying to figure out where I was going to put everything, not to mention room for sleeping. I judged my rack to be just wide enough for me to lay on my back and about 6 feet long, with 1 foot clearance above for headroom.. I had seen tanning beds that were bigger. I have no recollection of time passing, shock does that to a person, don’t believe I even talked to myself at this point, even forgot to want a cigarette. My helper marine came back triumphant loaded with a sheet (note the “a” sheet) and a pillow. She proceeded to make up my rack then yanked off the mattress and opened a trap door underneath… there was my luggage storage!! Wow…. A whole 3 inches of storage… I was amazed and at this point grateful for even that.

Heard laughter behind me. There was my son, laughing! He had managed to gain access to the female berthing, most inappropriate, especially bearing witness to my dilemma? I was told to ‘hurry up and unpack’ and get down to the ‘shop’, he would meet me there. Encouraged by the word ‘shop’ , I stuffed everything willy-nilly into those 3 inches of space. Amazingly everything fit! With room to spare! I was elated and finally felt positive about this adventure.

My marine closed my rack and put a lock on it, giving me the combination on a slip of paper. She had done her good deed for the day and I thanked her profusely. She left me to my own devises as she had ‘duty’.

Prior to leaving my berthing and thought I’d best make a stop at the ladies bathroom facility before heading to the shop. Cleaned off seat, disinfected everything I would touch, sat down. I must put in here, that the toilette paper is not easily accessible from a sitting position, seems they string it up just out of reach behind the toilette. Its also a one-ply product, easily torn. I learned to grab paper first.

I was ready to venture forth. Leaving the berthing area in my pursuit of the shop, and promptly made a wrong turn somewhere. Its hard to tell on the ship if you are lost because everything looks the same. Same doors, same ladder steps, same hallways. People everywhere! I walked down three sets of steps, realized that was wrong, and went back up, but had somehow come back up in a different place. Very confusing and frightening, what with no windows to help orient oneself. Had to break down and ask a young sailor where the shop was. He asked me “which one”… I didn’t realize there were more then one. I mentioned ‘shopping’, that, he understood and took me down, I lost count how many, several ladders and we were at the ship’s NEX. I thanked him for going miles out of his way to assist me and started looking for my son. Who, of course, was not there!

At this point I felt as though I had been put through a wringer and hung out to dry. Felt a panic attack coming on, had visions of wandering aimlessly on this ship only to be found after the smell had set in? and we hadn’t even left port yet? This did not bode well. By this time I had actually forgotten that I was on a ship, only to be rudely reminded by the shifting of the walls and floors.

I grabbed out at a bottle of orange juice, and held on for dear life. Don’t think I’ve ever felt so ridiculous in my entire life. That made me laugh and I pulled myself together, planted my feet firmly a foot apart and started asking directions on how to get back to the hangar bay. Found my son in hangar 1, where he explained to me that the ’shop’ was not a shopping mall, but the place where he worked and that I was to always return to “his shop” to check in for ’muster’ several times a day. I was to be accounted for at all times and not run amok by myself anywhere, I was to stay with my (not present and accounted for)sponsor.

(I made 4 more trips to my berthing that day, just to be damn sure I could find my rack and the bathrooms, without getting lost ever again.)

Time had lost all meaning, only the grumbling in my stomach alerted me to ‘the need to feed.’

But first… it was time to go up to the flight deck and watch Nimitz heading out to sea. Everyone was on deck and we watched Hawaii pass by with a double rainbow over the island. It was magnificent! I took the rainbows to be a good omen for our upcoming voyage to San Diego and the much awaited ‘homecoming’ for our sailors.

Also came to the realization that I could no longer ‘get off’ and should I become seasick I was going to be SOL and stuck in my rack for seven days.

Coming back down to hangar 1 we joined the long lines to the Mess Hall (galley). One doesn’t realize what is involved in feeding 7,000 people. Kudos to the sailors who had galley duty!

We were treated to our first meal on-board. Learned to use the disinfectant prior to picking up trays, utensils etc. Germs run amok on a ship where washing ones hands is only accomplished in the ‘heads’ (bathrooms). The food was adequate, there was a lot of it, but nothing tasted like anything. Institution food. But to be expected. The sailors all stated how the food was so much better now because the Tigers were on-board. Hmm.. I wondered what those poor kids had been eating?

That evening there was a talent show in hangar 1, put on for Tigers entertainment. Sadly, I was exhausted, what with the 5 hour time difference, very little sleep, the stress of the day… had all I could do to find my way back to my berthing. I cannot ever remember having walked so many stairs, felt as though my legs were no longer connected to my torso. (and I had thought Diamond Head had prepared me?)

Upon reaching my berthing I tried to open the door, it was stuck! Jiggled the knob, nothing! My solution to problems today seem to be just standing there dumbstruck. Thankfully another Tiger mom came up and advised me that there was a lock on the door… duh.. I had not even noticed that. She had the combo (she had been lucky enough to have a female sponsor) and we were able to gain access into our cold, damp and forever dark dungeon. We chatted for a few minutes, compared notes on how to get lost on an aircraft carrier and generally lamented our woes, before proceeding to our respective racks. (have to put in here, there were 50 racks in our berthing, rows upon rows of racks on both sides of the wall, all less then 2 feet apart) I now see the logic in placing racks so close together.. Should the seas become rough, one could get tossed out of ones rack and promptly fall into another rack, hopefully land on someone sleeping and therefore not be injured?

I had memorized the location of my rack by counting privacy curtains on each rack and hoped I would not grope people as I made my way in the dark.

Arriving at my rack I realized I had not left my towels, toilet articles, or pajamas on the bed. They were stuffed into my storage area beneath the rack, all locked up. Did not remember where the berthing light switch was. I got down on my knees and stuck my head into my rack and started groping for the switch on the little reading light. I should have brought knee pads. Everything on a carrier is made of steel, including the floors. Made note of the location of rack light! And felt empowered by this small illumination. Dug around in my ever present purse for the slip of paper with the combination for the lock securing my rack. I don’t think those number could have been printed any smaller and still be legible? After 2 tries, success! Tried to remember exactly what that young marine had done to open this space. It had looked so easy! I got up off my knees creaking and moaning (arthritis sucks) and gave a good yank. Nothing! But I think my arms are now longer. Pondered the situation in the dim light and realized I had yanked on the step-up into the upper rack, a non-moveable object. Had to get back down on my knees and lift. OMG…managed to lift my rack about an inch up on the first try, wedged my knees in between and pushed up with both hands. A stick like object came down and stuck into something, which thankfully held up the bed part. Had to sit down on the floor and catch my breath. One must realize now that what little light that had been generated by my reading light, was now obscured by the open storage area. My knees were numb, there were dents where the rack had landed on my thighs, my arms were aching and my behind was getting cold sitting on the floor and I had not yet attempted to retrieve my toilet articles or pajamas.

Eyeing the contraption (kind of like the stick that holds up the hood of a car) that held my rack up I realized I would have to put my upper body into the storage area to retrieve anything, which I cautiously attempted, fearing for my life lest that stick break and the steel rack crash down to kill me. (Visions of a National Enquirer headline: “Woman killed by rack on Air craft carrier”, with accompanying photo of my behind?) Cautiously I groped for my neccessities and made a quick exit from the storage, banging my head on the rack. With nowhere to put anything, since my rack was open, I laid my things on the floor, trying not to think about what might be lurking on those floors. I double checked that I had everything I would need for the night, as repeating the above procedure was not an option this night. Thinking that closing the rack would be simpler, I stood up and tried to push this thing shut. That, of course did not work, as that stick was still standing in its slot. (In theory) Had to lift the rack up even higher, back down on my knees, reach in with my hand, jiggle the stick loose so it can fold flat, then the rack will close? Only problem, one has to hold up the rack with one hand and jiggle the stick with the other then slowly bring down the rack with both hands. I did manage the first part of this, but my aching arms weren’t able to slowly bring down anything… and I dropped the rack. You can only imagine the loud bang that ensued. The curtains of several racks opened and I was the focus of everyone’s attention. Apologizing profusely, I ducked out of the berthing heading for the bathroom.

Since it had been so quiet and lights out in the berthing, I had assumed the bathroom would allow me some privacy where I could lick my wounds of today and/ or gripe to myself? Alas, that was not to be! It was wall to wall people in there! With only 2 showers available to 50 women, the line seemed endless. I was fortunate enough to find a spot by a wall to lean on and set out to wait. Took notice of the floor covered in water and no storage area (chairs, counters?) where to put ones towels or pajamas to keep things dry while showering? Finally, it was my turn. Elated I entered the shower stall (which thankfully had curtains for privacy), didn’t know what to do with my things (towels, pajamas, toiletries), but was afraid to ask, ergo, I slung everything over the top of the stall and never mind if all got wet. Sometimes you just reach a point of ‘what the hell?’ Removed my clothes, which had gotten wet from the floor already but was careful to keep my shower shoes on. I have never showered with shoes on before… felt very odd. Not a pleasant experience. Turned on the water and was rewarded by a scalding high powered spray. (part of the water conservation on board) Followed instructions as to Navy Shower… get everything wet, turn off water, soap everything then turn water back on for a rinse. This should take no more then 2 minutes? Don’t think I made the time requirements, but I tried. Yanked on now wet pajamas and grabbed my things and headed back to the dark and frozen tundra that was my berthing. At this point I did not care that I was wet, had wet towels, wet shoes and was freezing …. I just got back on my aching knees and dragged myself (and my things) on my belly into my rack! Fell asleep instantly and slept surprisingly well!!

End of day one……………………. J

Until I heard a sharp whistling and ‘revelee ….. revelee… all hands.. something.. something..??’ at 5AM….startling me upright, banging my head on my reading light, I rolled out of my rack onto the floor. Landed on someone’s foot. There were 4 women trying to get dressed in an area of 2 feet? Others were hanging their heads out of their respective racks waiting their turn to dress……

Now my first thought in the morning is ‘coffeeeee’ and cigarette. After that I am able to cope with lifes little dramas.

Being on an Aircraft Carrier things do not go in this order. I had to re-group and acclimate myself to an entirely different way of life.

After picking myself up off the floor of my berthing I made my way to the ladies bathroom to begin my morning ritual of brushing teeth, fixing face, combing hair. Duly waited in line for my space at one of the 4 sinks available. Feeling refreshed I headed back to my berthing to face the dreaded ‘rack storage area’. In my tizzy last night I had forgotten to get out fresh clothes for the days adventures aboard ship.

To be continued………………..