[sarcasm]Again I sally forth for two weeks aboard the good ship Eisenhower, planes launching and landing above my head 'round the clock, a pitifully small rack, an even smaller paycheck, and enough work to fill a 28-hour day.[/sarcasm]
Thanks Chief. I never had to use the bunks on an aircraft carrier. I did spend a few “sleeping periods” on the SSN Annapolis once though. I gotta think those bunks are comparable. And at least you can see the sun and stars once in a while.
Dopeler effect:
The tendency of stupid ideas to seem smarter when they come at you rapidly.
On the other hand, Chief, you could be hot bunking on one of those itty bitty fast attack subs. Youngest stepson’s first sub duty was on the Rickover. After 3 years of shore duty at Pearl (meaning he spent 3 years holding down a second job to be able to support his family there), he’s headed to Georgia and duty on a boomer.
Chief you have my empathy. I spent enough time on the Connie and Ranger to know what you’re going through. When you get off sea duty you’ll actually miss the sound of planes landing on the roof.
In the navy “semi-private” accomodations mean 200 people to a room. I remember seeing a news report some time ago that described the berthing spaces on a carrier. Tiny bunks stacked three high with a barely shoulder wide space between. Twelve racks take up about half the space required for one federal prisoner. Probably folklore but the photos I’ve seen of John Gotti’s cell make me tend to believe it.
It’s your fault that I have no one to blame but myself.
We Army types never understood why Navy types would ask, “Where’s the head?” and when we directed them to the lucious working girls, they’d walk right past them and go into the bathroom.
We just figured that squids liked their sex solitary.
But seriously soaks, I mean folks, here’s wishing you calm seas and clean catches.
At least you get to come here hon, my friend in the English Navy can only send out email… ok, ok so they have a bar… but since when did alcohol replace good company. =)
“Only when he no longer knows what he is doing, does the painter do good
things.” --Edgar Degas