TruthTramp

The Key West Mess

I have no idea the day month or even year of these events, I do know that I was in the Navy and we were in Key West.

Key West Florida- port of call

It must have been fall. Bush elections were in full swing. We were anchored off the coast of Florida for a port call that immediately began to go awry along with the weather. The Navy hires ferry’s, that carry approximately 250 people, to come out to the ship and transport the sailors to shore, since the aircraft carrier is often too big or too nuclear to pull up to a pier. The ship’s crew is about 3,000 people, with air wing , a 5,000 man behemoth entity. Mantity. Manument. The point is, what happens, all too often, is that the seas will be rough and the ferry’s cannot then go alongside the ship and then no one is allowed their port call. We had been there maybe two days and those of us of the lower ranks hadn’t gotten off the ship at all. Every day we stood in line for hours waiting but everyday the seas would turn before they could get to the rest of the ship, leaving us depressed and captive. Join the Navy; see the World (through hanger bay doors), was our cynical motto.

Having pity on me, DM1, the first class in charge of our division, decided to liberty buddy me and take me out. She knew the officer on watch and got me off the ship. We had a fun day, an unassuming day out in town, drinking pina coladas and eating key lime pie. I had to return early because of my low rank and DM1 came with, we found that the liberty boats were secured do to rough seas and began to do what we do best. Wait. So we waited and waited some more…. and then waited some more. Some of the other people from our division were off of the ship, perks of being photographers. They had been on duty or out photographing for the ship. As the night and it’s weather rolled in, it became clear we would be spending the night outside. The Navy sets up a triage tent for all of the drunk sailors and it was well beyond capacity. It began to rain. The higher ranking were let out to get hotel rooms, even though I was DM1’s liberty buddy they wouldn’t let me go with her, the E-3 and below were divided up into a field and the pier. I was on the pier. Some of the people on duty had been on duty for a day or two, because their relief was trapped on the ship. People were confused and weary… which is often how I see the military experience in retrospect. Confused and weary. There were about 300 people. I began helping out, bringing bottles of water and food to those locked in the field. I felt rather revolutionary tossing things over the barbed wire. Carrying messages back and forth, trying to figure out what the hell was going on.

The next few days we were tired, restless and pissed. “They” decided we had become a liability, I guess, and were not letting us out into town.  A few had attempted escape…. a few had escaped. They projected lame movies onto a sheet and we huddled under cardboard to keep dry. Citizens of Key West caught wind and were actually coming and offering to take sailors into their homes, which is most likely what got them to finally open the gates. They just opened them…. myself and about 250 of my shipmates literally sprinted out in a mad, wild pack toward the bars. I’m not ashamed.

After pounding several ‘Irish car bombs’ with my flight deck buddies our spirits were lifted and revelry could be observed all around. I trounced from bar to bar with Lindsay. We befriended the hippie street kids and sat on the corner with them incognito… laughing as rich drunks, waving hot dogs in our faces, shouted at us to get jobs …. one of the street kids, Sky, snatched the hotdog and shoved it in her mouth. A fellow sailor arrived not recognizing we were also in the Navy… he fell to our feet drunkenly exclaiming that we were the farthest thing from the navy he could find and would we please take him in. I didn’t have the heart to tell him, that and he offered to buy us all booze. He wasn’t 21 so i took him to the liquor store…

Sitting in the gutter all in row, filthy sailors and lost children among dogs. I looked over at the street girl next to me and wished for LSD, which she then produced, which I then consumed. It was late. Everyone began to disperse and Lindsay and I trekked off to find a cab. We tried to flag one down and realized some officers on liberty had called it, before we could be bummed they said ‘we called it for you’ and opened the door. WEIRD. We hopped into the cab. Our  driver was an epic Rasta man, he winked at me as he cranked up the best reggae I’ve heard in my life. Our mystical ride whizzed us off to the Blue Lagoon Motel, where we were sharing a room with around 10 of our closest shipmates. Outside, Lindsay entertained my whimsical state, we played in the bushes and I’m pretty sure I had a profound conversation with one of the fish in the magical lagoon. Some intimidating and aggressive strangers crept up on us and crashed our fun, to avoid being raped, we decided to ditch into the room and call it a night/morning. I lay down on the floor and found a pleasantly drifting state of being while listening to the sleepy murmurs of Summer and Joan among others.

The morning alarm shattered the calm of the pile of sleeping sailors. We were all to report to the pier at 0430. Lindsay walked with me and helped me maintain my mind while we were herded back onto the pier to await helicopter transport back onto the ship. So we waited… and waited some more. I had some very surreal nam-ish moments lying down with the chop chop chop of the helo’s overhead.

I was mostly sober, pleasantly vivid, by the time we were called for a helicopter. Lindsay got put on the one ahead of me and so I waited (some more) along with Joan and Summer.

Someone ran up in a panic, “the helicopter crashed! everyone is dead!!!!”

We three looked to each other ‘LINDSAY!

I didn’t quite believe the kid, but was most alarmed, we discussed amongst ourselves until word came that it had not quite crashed, but was blown into the catwalk and was precariously dangling off the side of the ship. A different helo picked us up, it was my one and only helicopter ride in the Navy. It was a spectacular and terrifying thing in my curious state. We landed on the ship just as they had rescued the other helicopter, a huge crane that is kept on the flight deck plucked the aircraft from its precariousness after the passengers had crawled out of the side and back onto the flight deck.

Lindsay in tow, we reported back to our division and were dismissed to shower and sleep. I met my good friend Jason as I headed up to berthing. He’d been trapped on the ship the whole time.

He suspiciously looked me in the eyes…

‘Bitch!’

I am not ashamed.