Sepia Saturday: Down to the Sea in Ships

Sea Fever

                                                  BY JOHN MASEFIELD

I must down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky,

And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by;

And the wheel’s kick and the wind’s song and the white sail’s shaking,

And a grey mist on the sea’s face, and a grey dawn breaking.

 

I must down to the seas again, for the call of the running tide

Is a wild call and a clear call that may not be denied;

And all I ask is a windy day with the white clouds flying,

And the flung spray and the blown spume, and the sea-gulls crying.

 

I must down to the seas again, to the vagrant gypsy life,

To the gull’s way and the whale’s way where the wind’s like a whetted knife;

And all I ask is a merry yarn from a laughing fellow-rover,

And quiet sleep and a sweet dream when the long trick’s over. 

     *  RIP Chief Warrant Officer CE Chenoweth, USN Retired (1932-2018)
 

My Dad aboard aircraft carrier, USS Midway, where he served from Sept 1951 - December 1954.

Built in the Newport News, VA, shipyard and commissioned a week after the end of World War II (Sept 10, 1945), the USS Midway was the lead ship of her class and the largest ship in the world until 1955 Bragging rights trivia for all sailors who served aboard her include the fact that she was the first ship built that was too big to fit through the Panama Canal and ended up the longest serving aircraft carrier of all time. To serve on the Midway was a particular honor given her renown and accomplishments (over 20 medals and citations in her career) -- but her massive size naturally garners the most attention. Measuring in at 1001' long at the waterline, the Midway displaced 45,000 tons of water at commissioning (64,000 tons by decommissioning), and for all that weight, she could travel at a whopping 33 knots (app 38 mph); she could carry over 4,100 men and approximately 137 aircraft, and was appropriately gunned and armored.  In active operation for 47 years, the Midway saw action during the Vietnam War and served in the Persian Gulf and in Operation Desert Storm in the 1990s as a flagship. After a long full life, she was finally decommissioned in 1992, and now serves the public as a museum ship at the USS Midway Museum in San Diego, CA. (Bucket List!) But you can walk through a digital tour here at the ship's website.

That's the ship. Now about that young man standing on deck: my Dad, called 'Chuck' by some, Dad by seven us, but mostly, he was known as sir.

He ended up just short of a thirty year career, my Dad, as a communications officer in the US Navy,
signing out with the rank of CWO4, as high as he could rise as a noncom. And let me just say right up front in case anyone doesn't already know: there's no one I admire more than my Dad. He wasn't perfect, but how could I not be his greatest fan? Though I've only in recent years realized it, I am my Dad's mini-me. (snicker) Not only do we have the same curly hair and good metabolism (I don't take that for granted; thank you, Dad!), but I'm a student of history just like he was and share his love of the written word. As far as I know Dad never went in for creative writing, but not only was his career centered on communication of a practical kind (electronic and radio, aboard ship most of his Navy career -- and then later as a 911 operator), but he was a master report-writer, understood the value of internet communications (when young people were only just beginning to figure it out), and he was an inveterate reader -- always in the middle of a book (or two), just like I am. I have the same tendency to be a couch potato just like him, too. I love old movies and documentaries. And I tend toward the same impatience with folks who aren't on the same page as I am. yeah, sorry -- but I admit it; it's true.  Do please know our temperament is not confrontational about this impatience, though. We are not ogres, truly, and both my Dad and I tend toward being introvertish (except in writing). But my father was an authoritarian and the master of his own house, a man who took his responsibilities seriously and expected everyone in his orbit to do likewise. Though it cramped my style as a kid, as a mother of ten children now, I totally get it. I also understand now more than ever -- when I didn't as an adolescent -- the rare beauty of my Dad's not ever being apologetic about his beliefs -- with anyone  at any time -- or shy about making his own family toe the line the same way the sailors in his charge were expected to do. Gosh how our world lacks this courage and conviction now! And how we benefitted from it as his children.

Me n my Dad, c. 2008

Any small part of these traits that I inherited from my Dad are treasures. He thought hard, he prayed hard, he discerned well, he committed to his beliefs, he never backed down -- but he was a gentleman to all, a man of his word. And you'd better darn-sight listen to his word and jump to it! I'm glad I did. For the most part, anyway. (wink) I'm happy to have his temperament, one that flies in the face of modern mushiness. I look at the photo up there, my Dad in his early twenties on the deck of the Yorktown, arms crossed, expression resolute but amicable, and I can see exactly who he was -- and who he came to be -- and I remember how he lived and how he died--  in the arms of the Church, with the love of his family, and the respect and admiration of all who knew him -- and I hope that I can be even a shadow of him slanting into the future. I hope I've passed the best of him down to my children.  Arms crossed, unbending, confident, smiling -- where he stood and all that he stood for was good. 

* I write this for the sake of  this sailor's grandchildren and great grandchildren who will never know him -- but also for Sepia Saturday, whose interest is always the human side of history -- and this week it's also boats and ships! Hop aboard and see where this best of all history blogs takes us this week!