unremarkable extancy: Operation Dear Abby 1986 - USS Carl Vinson CVN 70 (draft title)

It wasn't just a job, it was an Adventure

*I meant to post this as a draft - still updating*
I remember the old Navy recruiting ad that ran in the 70s and 80s - “Navy. It’s Not Just A Job, It’s An Adventure” Truer words were never written. The best days of my life were spent in the Navy, on the open sea - or in a foreign port.

In the fall and winter of 1986 I was deployed aboard the USS Carl Vinson, at that time it was the newest active aircraft carrier in the fleet. I boarded the Vinson in Subic Bay around the 12th of September and we didn't return until after the new Year in 1987. It was a long and arduous journey but we had a few moments of enjoyment here and there. Living aboard a navy ship leaves a lot to be desired. At least on the carrier we had more of everything and even somethings the small boys did not have.

CVBG Charlie - USS Carl Vinson and friends, 1986

We were operating in a large group of ships called a battle group. Basically, all the small ships are there to support the aircraft carrier (and there's at least one hiding under the water that you almost never know is there...).

During our deployment, my first stop was a port visit to Singapore for 5 days (23-28 Sept). Singapore was a fascinating city state full of wonderful people from a wide variety of backgrounds. If you want to talk about a real melting pot, you should go to Singapore. It was, and I'm sure still is, a colorful and delightful place to visit. And very clean. It's almost unbelievably clean. I did far less drinking and partying in Singapore than my shipmates. I tried to wander around and soak up some culture. Of course, I was on a tight budget so I had to spend money wisely (or as wisely as a sailor on leave in Singapore can spend it).

I found a great food market -- like a food court at a mall but on a scale that rivals a small village. There was every kind of food imaginable from every country and city around the Far East. I met some locals who actually kept buying me samples from various stalls -- it was all open air like a carnival with stalls on both sides of a wide avenue and small tables and chairs scattered about. I had Thai, Indian, Chinese, and Indonesian dishes that I can't name. I probably didn't know what it was when i was eating it.

Food was only one thing I sampled -- I also found a great place to buy bootleg music. I know, the younger generations will think of Napster and whatnot (or maybe even that's too old a reference for them!) but back in my day it was 'mix tapes' and bootleg cassettes.

I bought plenty at this place and they were dirt cheap. Duran Duran, Mike and the Mechanics, The Dream Academy. You name it, they had it. It might have been like fifty cents for a buck each?

The ever present McDonalds, Singapore

While wandering around Singapore I happened to met an American business man there. He struck up a conversation with me about the Navy and asked me where I was from. I had most recently lived in
Michigan in a tiny town about 90 miles north of Detroit. As chance would have it, he knew right where this town, St. Clair, was located. And no, he didn't confuse it with St. Clair Shores as often happens with people who say 'oh, yeah, I know right where you lived' -- No you don't. As it turned out, he worked as a VP of something for Ford Motor Company's Far East Division and was transitioning some work from the Philippines to Singapore (Ford had determined that graft and greed were to much to deal with in the RP, go figure.) He and his wife offered to treat me to a home cooked meal -- Singapore style, and I graciously accepted. One thing I learned about traveling around on your first day of liberty wearing your dress uniform -- people would always treat you to something. Free dinner, free beer, free taxi rides. Of course, that was still 1986 and the world seemed like a much safer place back then.

After we left Singapore we made a transit through the Straits of Malacca and into the Indian Ocean. Fun fact: we had to have special security teams stand watch when traversing the strait due to piracy. Like some idiots in a small boat are going to attack the largest warship in the world? Anyway... we steamed across the ocean and arrived at Diego Garcia, one of the tiniest little islands in the middle of no where, and we spent a few days there as well.

Diego Garcia didn't have much going for it but they had a liquor store, a club (along with other recreational activities) and beaches. All sorts of beaches but most were off limits due to the fact that if you got too far away you were going to be swept away into nothingness... when i saw the movie Castaway with Tom Hanks I thought of Diego Garcia only I never saw a 'tall' spot on that island.

Diego Garcia, B.I.O.T - 1986

I remember a handful of us going to the enlisted club, which was packed beyond belief, and finding a table to sit at to enjoy some cold beer and watch music videos (it was all the rage in 1986) on large projection TVs. Imagine my surprise when I hear a female voice calling out my name... 15,000 miles from anywhere and a pretty girl walks up and starts making small talk with me. My shipmates were pretty jealous. I don't know how many women were stationed at DG but there weren't THAT many and there were 5000 visiting sailors looking to meet them. It turned out that I knew several people from technical school who were stationed there and we bought some party beverages at the liquor store and set out to have a beach party. Somehow, during the fun and excitement, I lost my wallet with my Navy ID--which means I couldn't get back on the ship without having my division officer come down and vouch for me. That *never* goes over well.

Our voyage continued as we operated throughout the Indian Ocean making anchorages off the coast of Oman a couple of times. We were reconnoitered randomly by the Indian Navy and the Soviet Navy -- which gave us something to do on those LONG and boring shifts. Twelve on, twelve off day after day with breaks only when we had a port visit. But that's not really accurate either because there was a long and drawn out "turn over" and subbing in for meals so you could end up working 14-18 hours a day. It's not like there was a lot to do besides work.

We anchored off the coast of Karachi, Pakistan around the 7th of November. Now I've smelled bad things in my life - the big landfill in New London CT that we used to visit to bring our big trash items, the Hong Kong harbor and the Pasig River in Manila, Philippines. All of those things left indelible memories in my mind. But none of that could rival the horrid stench that hung like a cloud over the entire city of Karachi. We could smell it when we were still 12 miles from shore. I can't even begin to imagine what living in that city would be like -- raw sewage, dead animals, industrial waste. I don't even think any combination of those could create such an unholy smell. At any rate, it's not even worth mentioning as they canceled liberty in that city (if it was ever really on the table).

Carl Vinson at anchor, Kenya 1986

Later in November we did a port visit to Mombasa, Kenya. I had four days to wander around and get into trouble. For a few weeks ahead of our visit to Mombasa there was a lot of information being passed around "officially" about what to expect and what to beware of. We were all given Malaria preventive treatment along with general warnings about prostitution and AIDS. The closer we got to Africa the more vociferously they warned us until the day before our arrival we all thought you could catch AIDS by looking at someone in skimpy clothing (okay, that's an exaggeration).

A road in Mombasa, Kenya

I had a couple of interesting "adventures" while on liberty in Africa. I met some nice guys on the beach who posed for a couple pictures and I met a guy, a legitimate looking Massai warrior, who was *NOT* excited about me taking his photo. I don't know if he was a scam artist trying to prey on tourists or if he was seriously upset that I "stole his spirit" with my camera but he *did* chase me down the beach and through the center of a resort hotel lobby.

Guys willing to pose for photos in Mombasa

I also had the sad experience of meeting lepers begging in the street. They were sad and pitiful and downright scary. It's still hard to image people suffering like that living in the streets begging for their survival.

Some of us went to lunch in a 'fancy' restaurant (complete in doors with no beggars or prostitutes approaching your table) where I ordered something called a "steak sandwich". To this day I have no idea what it was but it was tough as shoe leather and about as tasty.

Tourist Trap - Kenya Style

When we were off the coast of Africa a female diplomat, I think it was the Ambassador, came aboard via Helo and when she stepped off the helo she slipped on the flight deck because it was greasy and in poor condition. We all got a chewing on even though we worked in communications and not on the flight deck but we did head back to Diego Garcia for a safety stand down and ship maintenance period where,I believe, they had to strip the nonskid surface and then lay down a new deck coating.

Then we headed to Fremantle, Australia -- probably my most memorable and favorite port visit during my entire Navy career. We celebrated Christmas while anchored offshore - actually, since I didn't have duty I went ashore with my dirty civilian clothes to find a self service laundry. While finishing up I was approached by an Aussie family who chatted me up and eventually invited me to their home for Xmas dinner. I was really floored by their hospitality and I was amazed at their living conditions -- they had wild animals living in their home including the cutest little baby kangaroo that was rescued when it's mother got hit by a car. Roos in Australia are like deer in the US, only worse. Most of the cars I saw had what they call "Roo bars" on the front to protect them from roo strikes.

These people were super nice to me and even let me call my father back home in Michigan. It cost something like $7 or $9 a minute to call back home on a pay phone so this was a special treat.

I have to say, virtually everyone I met in Australia was extremely nice; except some of the guys in the bars / pubs. They didn't particularly care for the onslaught of American sailors (and Marines). But the women were very attracted to American men because, as they said, we were so much nicer to them.

I'm still hunting for the photos I took while in Fremantle. I know I have some but I've not been able to find them.

After Australia we headed north and went back to Singapore before returning to the Philippines in mid-late January of 1987.

Somehow, I managed to tell a long story that doesn't have much meaning and little to do with what inspired me to write about my experiences while attached to the Carl Vinson in 1986. However, it was a long and lonely voyage, although we obviously had plenty of opportunity to get out there and meet new people. Still, at the end of the day, it was a ship filled with lonely guys -- decades before the internet and facebook could be leveraged to connect with family. So many young, single guys pining for their girlfriends looking for any kind of distraction to pass the time -- and along came Abby.

Operation Dear Abby

I don't know the history of operation Dear Abby but I do know that when the bags of letters arrived everyone got pretty excited -- whether they were single or not; it was a wonderful relief from the boredom of shipboard life in a peacetime navy operating in the middle of nowhere.

Towards the end of the deployment -- towards Christmas -- time we started getting shipments of mail with cards and letters from people back in the States through a 'Dear Abby' letter writing campaign they called "America Remembers - Operation Dear Abby II".

I found a bunch of cards and letters left behind after my shipments had gone through the packet looking for letters from girls who enclosed photos of themselves. This left a pile of letters from people who weren't young and pretty or at least they didn't enclose a photo advertising as much.

When no one else picked these letters up I gathered them with plans to reply to them individually. And, long story short, they got lost.

This past weekend, while going through some boxes of old military papers and personal letters I found a few of these cards. I don't think I can reply to them anymore... it's been almost 30 years. I imagine the people who wrote them have moved on. Perhaps some have passed on... who knows?

Above, a nice note from Brenda Pennington of Rockview West Virginia. She wrote about her family. Her husband was an unemployed coal miner and she ran a video rental store.