Heh...

So the eye is fine, really, it's just that I got this Amazon package in the mail on Friday, right after coming home from a post-op appointment with one of my many eye doctors. (I've seen something like five of 'em this past year, it's good work they're doing. Like my friend the Florida Flyer likes to say, I'm high maintenance. She's not too far off the mark there.)

Anyhoo, The Missus Herself was expecting a package, some wee sma' thing, so we thought it was that. Then I noted the addressee on the package, "Old AF Sarge." Seems one of you Chanters went shopping for the old curmudgeon, that would be me, Your Humble Scribe.

For what it's worth, I freaking love it.

For those who wonder about such things, The Missus Herself has already put the kibosh on me wearing that nifty eye patch to church on Sunday. She's still up in the air about me surprising the tribe at work with the thing. That might be fun. Or not.

Makes me want to sing a sea shanty, that patch does.

Good stuff that.

'Tis Done

What replaced the original equipment in the old Mk 1 Mod 0 Eyeball, Left.
(Source)

Cool. I now have a spiral galaxy embedded in my left eye.

Rather science fiction-like innit?

The mote in Sarge's eye?

Barred spiral galaxy NGC 1300 photographed by Hubble telescope.

While it wasn't painful per se, it was, like the last eye surgery I had, weird. In spades. Kinda like watching an old 1950s science fiction film with bizarre special effects. The biggest impression I had was glowing balls rising upon columns of smoke. Inside my eye.

Weird.

Healing is occurring, vision, while still blurry, is now clear, no longer feels like I'm looking through a pad of gauze. Hard to explain, post op appointment is later today, More news to follow.

For those of you facing this surgery: don't sweat it, it ain't that bad.

Trust me.

Now if you'll excuse me, I have a new galaxy to explore.

(Original)

Man, what did they put in those eye drops?

Surgery, Aye!

Byzantine Cataphracts
(Source)

So what's this I hear Sarge, going under the knife again? Getting Byzantine heavy cavalry removed from your left eye? Damn, that has to hurt!

No, no, no. I am not getting a cataphract removed from my left eye, it's a...

Oh, okay, I misheard. So when did you go to Egypt?

Egypt? Never, why would...

Well, the Nile River had six cataracts, which one did you hurt your eye in?

Third Cataract of the Nile
(Source)

What? Oh no, not the rapids on the Nile River, never been there. They do look rather picturesque though, don't they?

Well, if it ain't cataphracts or cataracts then it must be...

Wait, it is the latter...

...it's gotta be a catapult that hurt your eye, right? I know you went to Italy a few years ago, didn't know you got hit by a catapult. You should have had that looked at right away. Those Romans were nasty...

Roman Catapult
(Source)

I tell ya Sarge, a catapult, you're lucky you weren't killed. I've seen...

No, no, no. Not a catapult, a cataract, ya know when the lens in your eye gets all cloudy and has to be replaced with an artificial one?

Ah. Oh, now I get it, never mind...

Yup, by the time some of you read this I will be recovering from having cataract surgery in my oculus sinister, ya know, my "nasty eye." (Sarge, I think sinister in this context means left. Are ya sure you weren't hit in the head with a catapult?)

Nope, left eye is correct, that's Latin dontcha know?

Anyhoo, surgery was originally scheduled for 1330 hours. Had a call late on Wednesday wondering if I could come in at 0800? Well, of course I can. Rather than suffer through a morning with no coffee (no food or beverage six hours prior) I can get up, head in and "get 'er done." (Wow, I sure hope the surgeon isn't Larry the Cable Guy.)

Wish me Hals- und Beinbruch, I'm off to "see" the wizard...

After action report (AAR) to follow.

(Oh yeah, that is a typo in the title, should've said "Surgery, Eye!")

Sneaky

USS Zumwalt (DDG 1000) underway for the first time conducting at-sea tests and trials in the Atlantic Ocean Dec. 7, 2015.
(U.S. Navy photo courtesy of General Dynamics Bath Iron Works/Released)

So I've mentioned the paying gig a cuppla times in these spaces. Once upon a time I worked on the Zumwalt project, the lead ship in that class being depicted above. Talked about that here, but apparently what goes around, does indeed come around. At least some of the time. Yup, I'm back on that project again. (Well, I've been back on it for a couple of years, but that was mostly documentation, I'm back to staring at displays and pushing buttons again, much more fun that is!)

It's a good gig, yes there are elements of it which would drive a priest to hard drink and loose women for the frustration what's in it, but for the most part it's interesting work. Some of my colleagues have actually been aboard for long stretches to assist the crew in getting used to the various systems and how they interact. I'm not that smart yet, I'd fall into the "did you try turning it off then back on again" line of helpfulness.

But I do know a thing or two about stuff which keeps me gainfully employed.

(BTW, typing without using the left middle finger is no easier than it was last week. But at least it seems to be healing. Thanks for asking. 😁)

Anyhoo, I ran across a couple of cool videos yesterday which I thought I'd share with you. The first talks about what makes a ship stealthy...

While I've never actually been aboard the ship, I've heard tales of "what it's like" and this next video gives you a look inside USS Zumwalt. There are elements similar to other ships I've been on and some things are totally different. One of the things I find amazing is that the enlisted folks now have four-man staterooms and aren't all stacked together in a couple of big berthing spaces with one rack stacked upon another. Like sharing a bedroom with 50 other people. Not on USS Zumwalt.

Now if we can just find a couple of guns for the old girl or perhaps cheaper bullets for the ones she has now. That was a bit of pie in the sky optimism that was, gun rounds which are actually more missile than bullet and costing about the same as a Tomahawk missile. What were they thinking?

Oh yeah, they weren't.

Home is...sometimes tough to define.

Source

Sarge’s Saturday post was a little sad for me.  Several years ago, his father had his home pulled out from under him through redevelopment, which might have been legal and justified, but it doesn’t make it right.  I never met him, and don’t have much of a connection to him other than through The Chant, but I felt sorry for him all the same.  

I guess that’s some good writing, when a writer can put you in the moment and feel something, but I digress.  If you missed the post, a developer bought the land on which his father’s home stood and turned it into some nice modern residences, but four good families lost theirs.  I know of other similar situations involving trailer parks.  There’s one right on Mission Bay here in San Diego which is a ghost town now.  The 50 year lease expired several years ago, and after much litigation, hundreds of folks, many of them old, have had to find other places to live.  And in San Diego, that’s difficult to do.  But like most litigation, especially here in California, it’s costly, and so was the settlement.  The residents received the equivalent of four years rent, courtesy of the San Diego taxpayer.  Twenty-two million in all, which probably made them happier than Sarge’s dad.

DeAnza Cove Trailer Park in better days                                        Union Tribune

In a few more years, probably after more litigation, the now city-controlled land will become a wetland park.  But until that time, the city is allowing the nearby for-profit RV park to move in, which is making the former residents quite upset.  I guess that’s progress, that isn’t really progress.  Sure they got their settlement, and everything was legal and authorized, but that doesn’t mean it’s right. 

Now it wasn’t my intent to talk about supposed civic injustices, but it helps me make the point that Sarge essentially started last weekend- you can’t go home again. 

Like other Chanters- both writers and readers, my family moved quite a bit during my military service.  I describe it as over and back, up and down, then back and forth.  Atsugi Japan, Bremerton Washington, and Tampa Florida were the first of those prepositions, but always with San Diego on the return ticket.  We bought our home on that first return trip and fortunately, it’s always been here when we got back.  It was definitely a crushing burden of debt* when we first moved in, but we’ve pretty much crushed that debt, and we’ll be sans mortgage come winter.

We always held onto it because we knew SanDog would be our permanent home.  It helped that The Mighty War Hoover- aka the S-3B Viking, you know, the one up in the marquee that has no sharp edges- safe for kids!, was based here.  Even when the Navy sent us away, I could always find duty back here afterwards.  So my kids always had their home- a foundation for their PCS moves that helped center them as San Diegans I’d like to think.

Oregon's old border sign which most translated as "please don't stay."  Source

When I left Oregon 11 years after arriving, I never really looked back.  Mom sold the old homestead, and I don’t really feel the need to look back fondly on that place, nor do I reminisce sadly.  I enjoy visiting the town I grew up in, as long as there’s a half a decade or so between visits.  Ok, that’s not fair, my younger siblings still live there, and my wife has extended family there so we are still well connected, but it’s not home.  We’ve lived in San Diego far longer than I lived in Southern Oregon and my roots are deeper here. 

Someone else lives in our house now so there's no real connection to it now.  Don't get me wrong- I'm grateful to have grow up there, to have helped build it, but I can’t recreate the fun times I had with my friends there, I can only remember them.  It's the same thing now with my Squadron-mates- when we get together, we talk about those flights, the port visits, the other guys.  But we’re not flying again, we’re not young men again drinking (sometimes to excess) in an admin overseas, we are just remembering, not reliving.

Those displaced folks in that trailer park- they obviously can never go home again, but they were well compensated and that helps mitigate any loss, and their dwellings will be replaced.    

That house my family built and I grew up in is not home anymore, and I’m ok with that.  The town has changed a lot too.  Sure, it can be sad to see what progress looks like, but that doesn’t change the memories.  When it comes down to it, a house is just a dwelling, but a home is what you make of it.

Here's a clip from Gross Point Blank with John Cusak, one of my favorite movies and actors, which sums it up nicely.

   

Anyway, I’ve got a “new” home now and I don’t plan to leave.  Because of that, my kids will be able to go home again...although we are NOT letting them move back in! 

*Lex referred to his home here in San Diego as his Crushing Burden of Debt, which is only more apropos these days with a market that has eliminated "entry-level" homes here, and in most of California.

Lucky Lady

Weekend before last, Mrs J had some travel agent certification hours to complete, so she and I went to Galveston Thursday through Sunday.  As Little J had attended Texas A&M Galveston his first year of college, we were familiar with the town as well as the conventional routing to get there.  As it was just Mrs J and I and we had no real hurry to get there, we decided to go the "back way"

Except for two unannounced single lane road repairs, it was a quite pleasant drive.  Google maps called it 5+56 going the scenic route vs 4+56 going the interstate, so not a show stopper.  When we got to Luling and crossed I-10, we realized we'd made a great decision.  A lane was closed due to an accident on the eastbound side and traffic was all but stopped.

So we went through Gonzales, home of the Texas version of "Come and Take it!" (Evidently, STxAR, that phrase was also used at Thermopylae.  Who knew we Texans had read history?).  Spotted the Spoetzle Brewery (makers of Shiner Beer) in Shiner (duh!) and saw a beautiful Russian Orthodox church, passed through Halletsville and Rosenberg, where I committed a grievous error.

I trusted the GPS rather than the map.

Off we went to the south west on Farm Roads and lesser "roads".  Discovered a lot of very quaint dwellings in some fairly untravelled swamplands before finally rejoining our planned route (Texas 6) in Alvin.  Back on track we proceeded southeasterly until we sighted the on-ramp to I-45 which had a stopped train in front of it.  Back tracked north west about 10 minutes later when my patience was outlasted by the train's determination not to move an inch.  Got on to 1-45 and proceeded southeasterly again. As we approached that previous on-ramp, I recognized the car pulling onto the highway beside me  as the oneI had been staring at the rear of while waiting for the train to move..

But my blood pressure was lower than his.  So I got that going for me.

Arrived at Moody Gardens Hotel, Spa and Schlitterban and checked in.  Arrival in Target Area complete.

I had some clearly defined objectives for this mission.  First and foremost, I wanted to visit the Lone Star Museum of Flight.  We had visited it while Little Juvat was in school, and liked it, but that was WAY back then when cell phones didn't have cameras.  So, I didn't have pictures of the B-58 and Spitfire (in flyable condition) and wanted to rectify that.

Friday morning dawns and Mrs J is off to her training.  I make my way down to the restaurant for breakfast.  Glanced through the menu and put it down immediately on seeing "Two Eggs with Corn Beef and Brisket Hash".

With Cholula of course!

Man were they good! I had also forgotten how good Community Coffee is.

Thoroughly nourished, I began the days events and proceeded to the front desk to determine if the Flight Museum was within walking distance.  (Moody Gardens shares an entrance with the local airport.)  The clerk looked at me a little funny and said, well....no.  I asked how to get there and she replied," get on I-45 and head back towards Houston."

Not wishing to do that in the middle of the morning rush hour, the Museum will have to wait for a future trip.  (It had been damaged in the recent hurricane and moved to Ellington Field.  Shortly after opening, it flooded in another hurricane.)

The hotel fee included tickets to Schlitterban, but much like PJ day at the elementary school, an unaccompanied, overweight, balding, slightly beyond middle aged, white male at a waterpark would be a little bit, shall we say, awkward.

What to do?

I determined I would drive around the town and see what's changed.  The first thing I thought to check out was the A&M campus and see what's what there.  It had grown quite a bit in the ensuing 17 years since Little Juvat was there (Feeling old are we, Son?).  I continued past the campus out to the point on Pelican Island and saw  a couple of interesting things.

Well, turns out it's now called Seawolf park, although I don't know why.  There is a conning tower of a sub there marked 639, but according to this article, that belonged to USS Tautog (SSN 639).

Parked and walked over to it, but for all intents and purposes, it's just a hunk of metal.  Nothing to do, nothing much to see.

However, nearby....

USS Cavalla

A WWII Gato class submarine that had 6 combat patrols and it was open to tour!

Veterans got in for $5 plus $6 for parking, so it's off to the races.

I figured the curators had heard about Murphy and Museum pieces, so they added some hefty preventative measures.  I was deterred.

These are the Aft torpedo tubes.  Not sure who "Al" is.

The Boat is 311' long and this shot kinda confirms it.  It's large.

At the base of the conning tower looking aft.

Got some "been there, done that" markings.  But I didn't realize at this point, exactly what they'd done.

Was pretty sure this was some form of detection equipment, but not sure exactly what.  I've got my suspicions and will discuss shortly.

OK, I'd always heard the saying "Down the hatch", but always assumed it meant something being drunk or swallowed.

Not in this case.  Very steep and deep.

Top message was critical for the remainder of the visit.

This was the forward torpedo room as well as the dorm for 12 Sailors.

Very nice and cozy.  Lots of privacy, soft bunks and peace and quiet!

Or not.

Just as a reminder that this is a submarine and they go underwater, this is an escape hatch.

Forward torpedo tube.

Torpedo door controls.  As a reminder, you're on a submarine, you employ your weapons under water.  Getting these in the proper position for what you're about to do is somewhat critical and helps you avoid having to use the escape hatch.

Torpedo guidance controls.  Torpedoes at this time were not controlled after launch, so getting them set right was critical.

This stumped me until I researched it for this post.  Why 3-6?  What happened to "Fire 1, Fire 2".  Well, post war, the ship was retrofitted with equipment more suited to anti-submarine war and that equipment required removal of 2 forward tubes.

I think the object on the deck was part of the sonar based on this.  This device was located directly below, in my estimate, where that object was.  I could be wrong, and I'm sure someone will let me know if so.  Beans....No crowing about it, though!

Nice wide passage ways, plenty of head room.

The officer's mess...and dead reckoning table.  Spacious!

Spacious junior officer's quarters.  That, by the way, is the TOP bunk.

The Captain's suite!

OK, that fruit salad on the sail?

On her first cruise, she sited and sank the  Japanese carrier Shōkaku, of Pearl Harbor shame.  Needless to say, that annoyed the Japanese.  They expressed their annoyance by dropping 105 depth charges on USS Cavalla in a 3 hour period.

I loved their radio message about the attack (next to last paragraph above).

"HIT SHOKAKU CLASS CARRIER WITH THREE OUT OF SIX TORPEDOES...RECEIVED 105 DEPTH CHARGES DURING THREE HOUR PERIOD...HEARD FOUR TERRIFIC EXPLOSIONS IN THE DIRECTION OF TARGET TWO AND ONE HALF HOURS AFTER ATTACK...BELIEVE THAT BABY SANK."

Gotta love it!

A submariner's version of flags on the fuselage.

Just in case Murph forgot or something.

We're now in the control room.  Unfortunately, the conning tower was closed for renovation.  The ladder to the left.

Very important to make sure all the Hull opening indicators are out when the Captain says "Dive".  Else...Escape Hatch.

Radio room.

Crew Mess.  54 enlisted men crewed the ship,  This is where they ALL ate.

Checklist, gotta have checklist.  Gotta do it right.  Else...Escape hatch.

Crew quarters (and aft battery compartment).  A spacious suite for you and 35 other of your closest friends.

Patrols could last as long as 75 days.  One might need the capability to make repairs.

Lest you think this machine room was "spacious".

It's part of the engine room

The gas pedal.

The other side of the engine room.  Yes, I had to go through there...sideways.

Submerged (Battery) controls.

And the aft dorm room torpedo room.  But that is a bunk at the top of the picture.

I found the tour fascinating, and I did learn a lot.  First, while the boat looked big from the outside, there really wasn't any wasted space on the inside.

Second, when they say, "Mind your head", they really meant it.  I hit mine on several protrusions, never serious enough to draw blood, but enough to get my attention...for a minute or two...then Bang!

Third.  it took me a while to figure out the best way to transit hatches.  For me that was backwards.  The first hatch I was pretty sure I was stuck and it was likely they would have to cut open the sub to get me out.  Fortunately, I was the only one in that area of the ship and I was able to extricate my self before losing all face and needing help.

Last,  submarines aren't built for overweight, 64 year old, 6' tall guys with arthritic knees.  I have an even greater respect for the folks that went (and go) to sea aboard them.

Great museum.  If you've got the time, I highly recommend it.  Next week, the other half...

Oh, why the title?

USS Cavalla was commissioned on February 29th 1944.  The only submarine commissioned on a leap day.  They thought it was a lucky omen.  This is a little schmaltzy, but I enjoyed it.