My
Journal
By
Harriman Nelson
~In
God We Trust~
29
“I’m
sorry, Admiral Nelson,” Mr. Montalban, one of the check in officials at the Miraflores
Lock’s office told Jiggs and I, “but the US Dept. of Defense doesn’t have the
Seaview on the list of official movement through the canal.”
“That’s
impossible!” Jiggs erupted. “They put her on active reserve duty with orders to
go through the canal to Norfolk, Virginia.”
“That
may be, but we can’t allow it unless you’re on the list.”
“I’m
sure it’s just an oversight,” I said, “I’ll contact the DOD and see about them
expediting things. Jiggs, why not go get us a couple of sodas from that vending
machine.”
Jiggs
did as I asked as I used my cellphone to contact Sparks to contact the DOD,
while I informed Chip of the delay.
“We
have even more ships behind us that are liable to blow their stacks, no pun intended, if they have to wait much longer.”
Just
then the SOD came on a second line on my cellphone and I explained the problem
then handed my phone to Montalban. The exchange of
information didn’t take long and soon the office fax machine was busy printing
out our orders and the guarantee of funding by the US government for our
passage. After Montgalban said his goodbyes to the
SOD and handed me back my phone, I returned my attention to Chip.
“Okay,
Chip, we’re clear. We’ll be returning shortly in the canal’s launch.”
“Aye,
sir,” he said relieved.
***
Jiggs
and I soon boarded Seaview from the canal’s launch and headed to the
Observation Nose where I laid out some pamphlets on the table, handing most of
them to Sharkey to distribute to the crew.
“Cheech,”
Patterson said as he glanced at one of the pamphlets while getting his
photography equipment ready to document our trip. “I had no idea that over 20,000
workers died putting the canal together.”
“Don’t
forget,” Jiggs told him, “the additional 12,000 or so rail workers. Some of the
deaths were accidents, most, were from Yellow Fever and Malaria. They and all
of the workers deserve our utmost respect.”
“Jiggs,”
I warned, “You don’t have to remind any of my crew of that.”
“Attention all hands,” Chip said into the mike
“as soon as we enter the gateway to the first lock and are tied up to the
mules, we’ll be cutting power to the engines. Even though there’s plenty of
illumination, we’ll maintain running lights and spotlights. Anyone wishing to
go topside during this venture must wear life vests and be tethered.”
“Like,
how much is this trip costing, Captain?” Riley asked as he helped Pat with his
gear.
“$495
to pay for our passage.”
“No
wonder you don’t want to scratch the paint. Er. I
mean....”
“I
know what you mean, Riley. I hope your tethers won’t restrict your artistic
photography, Patterson.”
“Are
the pictures and videos for the DOD or us, sir?”
“Does
it make a difference, sailor?” Jiggs asked.
“Not
at all sir, but number of copies will.”
“Oh.”
Shortly
after Pat and Ski had gone topside, Seaview was given the okay to enter the
lock. Once safely moored to the ‘mules’, Seaview was, in effect, towed into the
first lock.
It
had begun.
***
Three
and a half hours later we’d gone through two locks and were waiting to go
through the third, Seaview still smelling like a movie theatre from her earlier
repast of popcorn.
Very
few men had taken to their bunks. This was a bone fide adventure and I helped
Chip put together a few of the certificates for passing through the ‘Ditch’.
Jiggs
and I were surprised when Cookie approached us in the nose, with caramel
popcorn balls and asked us to test them out.
“Fine,”
I said, my mouth drooling, as I bit into it, the melting caramel dripping down
my chin.
“Whew,”
Cookie said. “I was kinda’ worried about them. The
popcorn is leftover from earlier.”
“You’ve outdone yourself,” Jiggs said. “Well
done.”
“Thank you, sirs,” Cookie said and returned to
the Wardroom and Crew’s Mess to lay out the extra treats he’d made for all
hands.
“My
God, Harriman, we’re going to weigh a ton after this. The DOD will complain
about us putting on extra pounds.”
“True,
but I have a feeling the war will be over soon and we won’t have to worry about
any active duty fit reps. Looks like we’re entering the last lock on this side
before we get to Lake Gatun,” I observed from the deck cam showing on the
monitor. “I’d like to go topside and call Lee to raise our glasses before we
get there...Chip? Jiggs and I are going topside. Have Sparks call Lee via the
videophone in the Conning Tower. Come along as soon as you can.”
“Won’t
he still be asleep?” Chip asked, “even in Eastern Standard
Time....”
“He
won’t mind. Trust me.”
“Right
away, sir.”
No
more than two minutes passed after Jiggs and I had climbed into the Conning Tower carrying three
glasses and an unopened bottle of Johnny Walker, closely followed by Chip.
It
only took a moment for the call to go through and the five inch monitor came to
life. Lee’s bed was rumpled, illuminated by his videophone’s glare while it
beeped incessantly. But there was no sign of Lee.
“Will
you turn the damn alarm off!” Mrs. C.’s voice yelled.
“In
a minute!” Lee yelled back, “Go back to bed!”
“Winston
wants to go out. Can’t say I blame him with all that racket!”
“I’ll
take him Mrs. C.,’ Joe’s voice said.
“Hurry,
though,” Lee said. “Where’s Sweetie?”
“Hiding
in the laundry basket.”
A
moment later Lee, as rumpled as his bed appeared in his bedroom, fitting his
moist prosthesis into his waiting socket.
“There,”
he said making sure it had clicked into place, then he sat down in front of his
desk’s videophone. “Thought you’d never call,” he added, then studied me. “Is
that something on your chin, Harry, or the connection bad?”
“Popcorn
balls,” Jiggs spoke for me as I wiped my chin.
“Popcorn
balls? I don’t think Cookie’s ever made those before...”
“Had
to do something with the leftovers from all the popcorn he made for the crew
today. All your fault too.”
“My
fault?”
“Only
in a manner of speaking,” Chip said. “Got into the mood after speaking with
your mother. And the admiral burnt his microwave bag, so Cookie make popcorn
the old fashioned way only for all hands, not just the admiral after he
mentioned that your mother had mentioned how you liked it for these lobster
bake things, and...well,
if the skipper likes something, the entire crew wants to join you in spirit.
Had a few leftovers so Cookie made popcorn balls later.”
“We’re
almost to the lake,” I said, “care to join in our toast to the canal?”
“Brand
new bottle of Johnny Walker,” Jiggs said, holding up the bottle while Chip and
I picked up our glasses, handing one to Jiggs.
“Mom?”
Lee shouted, “Joe back yet?”
“Hold
your horses, Lee,” Joe called back as Winston raced in to circle around Lee.
“Where’re
the drinks you got us from the Jiffy store?”
“Hold you horses...only have two hands...c’mon
Mrs. C., you too.”
In
minutes they both appeared, with an aluminum pan full of ice, bottles of beer, iced tea, cranberry
juice, and orange juice. And paper cups with a few straws for good measure. Lee poured cranberry
an orange juice into one of the paper cups, mixing it with a straw.
“Yeech,” Mrs. C. sad.
“You’re
just saying that ‘cause you
don’t like the name,” Lee said.
“Well,
‘Sex on the Beach’ is a horrible name for it even if it’s G rated without the
vodka and Schnapps.”
“You
realize I’m being good for you.”
“I
do, sweetheart,” Mrs. C. said ruffling his hair.
“Is
crewman Walker ready?” Joe asked, holding up his no opened bottle of beer.
“Just
about,” I said as I twisted the cap off and poured out Chip’s, Jiggs, and my
libations.
Then,
we three raised our glasses as Lee, Mrs. C., and Joe rose their drinks.
“To
the marvel of engineering,” I said, “the Panama Canal!”
“To
the Panama Canal!” we all said and imbibed our full shots. Lee swallowed down a
gulp of his juice, then rose his cup again,
“to Harry Nelson, next Nobel Prize winner!”
It
was hard to drink to myself but I managed.
“And,”
Lee added, pulling
out something from his desk drawer and twisting off the cap, “to Seaview!”
“Lee Beauregard Crane,” his mother said as he
gulped down however much was left in his mini bottle, joined by us with our own
libations, “I warned you about...”
“It’s
to my best girl, Mom...deserves the real stuff.”
I
had to laugh having been toasted by Lee with cranberry juice and orange juice
while Seaview had been toasted with vodka.
“Now,” Mrs. C. said, “hurry up with your
business, Lee needs to get back to bed. He’s only had a few hours of sleep.”
“Is
something wrong?” I asked, worried.
“He’s
fine. Just spent most of the night in a poker game with some old friends.
Wasting his time and money....”
“What
money?” Jiggs asked.
“Two
hundred dollars the mayor loaned me for the game! I won four hundred, so I paid
him back plus $50, for interest. Net profit for me $150,” he giggled.
“Which
you will put in the bank tomorrow morning!” Mrs. C. said.
“By
the way, Lee,” I said, “somehow it was overlooked in accounting, but when you
were first drafted then accepted the captaincy of Seaview permanently, you you filled out the standard insurance form...well, you’re
entitled to draw funds from it, or if you prefer, draw funds as a loan...I’ve
arranged a meeting for you with a personal financial manager....can be done
online or by phone...might help you right now....”
“Oh
how wonderful,” Mrs. C. said clapping her hands.
“You’re
up to something, aren’t you?” Lee asked me, his eyebrow raised. But the effect
was ruined as he yawned.
“That’s
it,” Mrs. C. said. “if there’s nothing earth shaking
that Lee needs to know about he’s going back to bed.”
“But
I want to look at the deck cams,” Lee whined... “why’s
everyone lashed to the grab bars...”
“Er...new rules crossing the ditch,” I lied, “that’s what we
sailors call the Panama Canal, Mrs. C.”
“I
know what you boys call it,” she sighed. “Lee made a cardboard model of it to
show his friends what Seaview was doing to get from one end to the other,
before it got waterlogged and sank in the tub of ice and water holding their
beers and soda. Got his dimensions incorrect, however. Used a couple of Legos
for Seaview....bedtime, Lee. And Joseph, make sure he removes his eyeball. And
put it in a secure place that Sweetie and Winston can’t reach. Good night
Admiral Nelson, Admiral Starke, Chipee...er...you
don’t really mind me calling you that, do you, dear?”
“Not
at all,” Chip said politely.
“Good,
well, then, say goodnight Lee.”
“Good
night Lee,” Lee smirked.
“I’m
waiting,” Mrs. C. said, tapping her slippered feet,
her arms crossed over her fuzzy terry robe.
“Thanks
for letting me share in toasting the canal,” Lee told us, “and Seaview.”
“Yes,
yes,” Mrs. C. said. “They know already. If you all start talking Seaview you’ll
never get back to bed. Turn it off, Lee.”
“Let
me know as soon as you’ve completed the transit,” Lee said.
“Aye,
Skipper,” Chip said.
“Lee?”
Mrs. C. demanded.
“Crane
house of enslavement out.”
Instead
of swatting him, Mrs. C. ruffled his hair as he punched in whatever code it was
to end the connection and our screen in the conning tower went to fuzz.
I
decided that if Lee had to go to bed, I might as well and went below. Jiggs decided
to stay topside with Chip for awhile.
But
sleep did not come easy for me. Too much adrenaline I guess.
Indeed, sleep did not come easily.
~***~