"A Little Unscheduled ASW"
Returning from Portsmouth Drydock in 1990, two of us are Divisional
DCPO's. We share a space with VF-11 for a DC Shop, and that night the LT
from VF-11 asks us if we can get rid of this 350 pound "frisbee" left in the
p'way from the Bowcat work. Inspection is coming, this thing has to go. "Of
course Sir, I'll just let my buddy on lookout back aft not to wory about the
splash." 0300, bother the Bridge? I go into Combat where all kinds of
things are happening fast, but I'm DC so I'm not supposed to know. I call BM
on the sound-powered phone, he's cool with that. Four of us take this thing
to the catwalk, and over the side it goes. An hour goes by, I go into Combat to do PMS on the Battle-lanterns, it's quiet in there. "What's the deal?" I ask. Seems we were doing a little ASW
with an LA-class attack sub. She was hiding in the wake, but was returning
to port for repairs since she was convinced she'd collided with us. Two plus
two equals FID attacked a sub, and forced her to return for repairs. Divers
found no damage to the rudders. I still have visions of that sub surfacing
with a 350 pound HY-100 "frisbee" sticking out of the bow. A week later
we're told we must get permission from the Bridge before throwing anything
over the side, especially at night. Okay, NOW you tell me. Chief is gonna
kill me when he hears this one. Better than when I turned the wake red
though aint it?
P.W. Gray OS2, the other names withheld to protect the equally guilty :)
"The Green Sticker, A Wise Guy, And His Flunky"
The Forrestal during 1981-83 had a unique program for sailors who
failed uniform inspections. If you failed one, you had to peel off your
white ship's sticker from your ID card and then go down to ADMIN
and get a green one in its place. This meant that you had to leave
the ship in uniform and there was apparently NO WAY OUT of it.
I found a way....once when we were tied to the pier at Mayport, I failed
one of those inspections. I got the green sticker issued to me; I was
miserable! I schemed and came up with a plan. I removed the green
sticker, stuck it on the back of my ID card, went down to ADMIN and told
the PN1 that I needed a new white sticker since the other white one
"fell" off. He issued one to me. So, an hour later,
I was off the ship in my civvies. I ran into another radioman,
nicknamed "duck" (you KNOW who you are) he had also failed the
inspection and was walking around by the Ribault snack bar, miserable,
in his dress blues. He asked me how I pulled the fast one, so I told
him what I had done. Later on that night onboard, "duck" asked if I
could "lend" him the white sticker that Saturday, so that he could pull
the same stunt on the Q-deck. I obliged, thinking nothing would happen.
That next Monday morning, "duck" is pulling at my sheets of my rack,
telling me that "the Ensign" wants to see me in radio - NOW.
Apparently, he got caught with the white sticker by the DIVO - and
apparently spilled his guts!
I ended up in front of the DIVO....he pulled a scare tactic on me and I
played it off like I was scared. He threatened to write me up for
falsification of an official document...blah blah blah, making out as if
I had committed the most heineous offense ever. What he didn't know,
however, that my scheme had not only spread throughout the division, the
WHOLE SHIP eventually caught on. Because of this, the infamous "green
sticker policy" was scrapped. That took place eighteen years ago and it
seems as if it were yesterday!
John Rudolph
"A Funny Guy"
We were returning from deployment and anchored outside of Rota, Spain, during the '81 Med
Cruise. We were about to chop into the LANT area, and we were picking
up the kids for the Tiger Cruise enroute back to Mayport. One of our
Radiomen (name withheld to protect the innocent) had won the "early
bird" flight from Rota back home. This meant he would be back in
Mayport, ten days earlier than the ship. He had this awesome joke
planned out. He told us that he would be on the pier in Mayport,
waiting for us. He reminded us that all the wives would be on the pier
with signs for their loved ones and that we should look out for his
"sign". His sign was going to be a large banner which was to read
"FORRESTAL WIVES WERE GREAT". Unfortunately, the sign never came about,
nor was he on the pier when we got back. But just to think for a moment
of the reaction of the sailors manning the rails....I bet there'd be
some really ticked off squids back then if they were to see that sign!
John Rudolph
MEAD!
Every night, the cooks put out large pans of honey for mid-rats.
One night in November 1972, I went to mid-rats with my copy of Scientific
American which had arrived that afternoon. I made myself a HONEY and
peanut butter sandwich. The Amateur Scientist article was about Mead: what
it is and how to make it. After I stripped away the technical details, Mead
seemed to be 1 part honey and 3 parts water boiled together to dissolve it and
with orange juice added, then fermented. I got the impression that bread yeast
and three days fermentation could create a nice little brew. That was the last
night that honey was put out. I suppose that I wasn't the only person
subscribing to SciAm! (I didn't try home brewing on FID since I didn't want to
lose my clearance, honourable discharge and spend time in the brig.
However, I've made a number of batches since then in my home.)
Michael W. Bell
INTEL UPDATE, with LTjg Chris Cali
All through our 88 voyage, while we were on "Beno Station", the crew was
entertained by LTjg Chris Cali, the Intel Officer of one of our squadrons.
He would insert many fake "Sea" stories of his own. The slide show he used
to help explain what he was talking about would mysteriously contain some
pictures of ancient aircraft to describe the Iraqi Air Force. Also there
were some not-so-politically-correct photos of women who had absolutly
nothing to do with the intellegence brief. The music he used to intro and
exit was also most appropriate. Goin' back to Cali, by LL Cool J.
One of his shortcomings was his lack of respect for anyone in authority. He
would make fun of Cheif Petty Officers, the Captain, and the Admiral. The
captain threatened to pull the plug on his shenanigans. Public outcry
however, saved his show. On the way back toward Mayport, we were
in the middle of the Combined
Federal Campaign. The FID had a tradition of having a telethon to raise
money for the CFC. Most of the things auctioned off, were actually recycled
from the previous CFC telethon. In the tradition of Jerry Lewis, now LT Cali
was the EMCEE for the entire
event. With about 5 minutes left to go, the Captain Pieno and Admiral Allen
stormed into the TV studio, and taped him to a chair with his arms and legs
bound, and a piece over his mouth to "silence" him once and for all. Then
to add insult to injury, they plastered him with several pies. And all this
was aired LIVE over the ships closed circuit TV. I'm sure someone out there
had a tape in their VCR and has this classic TV moment.
This was the end of LT Cali in broadcasting. I wonder where his career took
him after that cruise.
Submitted by DS1 Rich Goebel (6/87-12/89) OED Division
"Christ of the Andes"
On our way to Viet-Nam the Forrestal was forturnate enough to stop in
Rio de Janiero for three days. After three days of sight-seeing, shopping,
and drinking that good "Brahma beer" we were ready to leave. My friend
(Richard Grayslak, whom I haven't been able to locate after all these years)
and I were up watching our departure from the look-out station above the
bridge. It was an overcast day and he turned to me and asked if I knew
about the superstition concerning the Christ of the Andes(a huge statue of
Christ which stands on a high peak over looking Rio). I told him no, and
he said that according to the superstition, if you leave Rio and can't see
the statue of Christ you are going to have bad luck befall you. The statue
was shrouded in fog and couldn't been seen as we departed. One month later
the Forrestal added another page to the Christ of the Andes superstition.
This minor conversation has stuck with me all these years and I still
think about it whenever I think of that cruise.
Richard Gruber
"You want I should clean the windows?"
I was an ABH2, and for a time a yellow-shirt in fly3, I then replaced the
ABH1 as the REP8 petty officer. I served in that billet until one night
in the Fall of 1965 (in the Med), during a strike-Ex a heavy (A-3
SkyWarrior) rolled backward, gear in the catwalk, belly flat on the deck
with engines running. I was coming up from mid-rats, heard the racket and
to make a very interesting story short, I jumped into "Tilly", and we saved
the airplane. But, in so doing I summarily wiped 4 windows and 5 window
wipers off the Flag Bridge. I then spent the rest of my days as a MAA.
Thomas R. Fox
"Can I have a little coffee with my salt?"
While onboard the Forrestal back in the 1970's, one of the duties of quartermaster on the navigation bridge
was to make the coffee. One day while at sea, we had sent a young messenger of the watch for water. We failed to tell him
the water was for making coffee. He brought the water to us and we brewed the coffee. Shortly after, the captain had come onto the bridge,
the first words out of his mouth were, "Is the coffee ready?" "Yes, Sir...just made a fresh pot," was the reply. The captain was handed
him the first cup from the newly made pot. No one else had tasted the coffe as yet. From the other side of the bridge, where I had gone I heard
the captain yell, "Who made this coffee?" I poked my head around the corner and said, "Me Sir, why?" "It's salt water!" We had forgotten to
tell the messenger there was a fresh water tap and he had used salt water.
Donald Joseph Esposito
"Splash the Hawkeye"
On July 8, 1991, an E-2C from VAW-122 developed an engine fire that
soon burned out of control. The crew of five ejected from the stricken aircraft
which continued flying toward Syrian airspace, making it necessary to destroy
the E-2C. The "Privateers" of VFA-132 responded, Upon receiving authorization to shoot down the aircraft,
the pilot of a VFA-132 F/A-18 Hornet selected the 20mm gun and splashed the Hawkeye. This
was the first and only "kill" achieved by an aircraft flying from the deck
of Forrestal in the carrier's 37-year history. There was a story going around the ship that
either the pilot of the hornet or VFA-132 as a squadron wanted to paint the shark squadron insignia from VAW-122
on the side of the hornet marking the kill. It appears that VAW-122 did not appreciate the sentiment and "killed" the idea. Too bad,
that would have been pretty funny.
