(U.S. Navy photo by Mass Communication Specialist 3rd Class Victoria Foley)
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Westpac ’75—Tiger Cruise
After six months overseas, USS Kitty Hawk (CV-63) left the Philippines for the last time during Westpac ’75 on Thanksgiving Day, heading back to the states. Like the trip over to PI, we’d stop in Hawaii for a day or so.
I’m not sure if this is customary, but the trip from Hawaii back to San Diego was also a “Tiger Cruise.” During this short cruise, Kitty Hawk sailors’ sons, fathers, and brothers (no women) could come aboard and sail with us back to San Diego.
What a great idea—see what dad does at work!
Also, on the way back from Hawaii, we could order up to a gallon of liquor… tax-free. We’d pick it up the morning we pulled into San Diego. I only ordered one bottle of bourbon. I could have ordered more and sold it to someone who maxed out, but I didn’t, though I know a few sailors who did.
About 0500 the morning we were to pull into San Diego, they passed word that we could pick up our liquor orders. I didn’t go fetch mine; I’d get it later. However, most of the guys who ordered got theirs.
Of course, you were not supposed to drink while aboard the ship, but several of the guys got really snockered before pulling into port. I don’t know if that’s still a custom these days or not, but back then, we lived the good life.
Home—San Diego
We pulled into San Diego about 0800 on December 15, 1975, the day before my twenty-first birthday. It was a beautiful morning and coming through the bay, passing Point Loma on the port side and North Island Naval Air Station on the starboard, it really felt like coming home. We’d been on the cruise for what seemed like forever and other than Hawaii, this would be the first time in six months I had stepped foot on American soil.
When a ship returns to her home port from an overseas tour, sailors man the rails, another formal Navy tradition. That means that everyone taking part dresses in the uniform of the day. In this case, we wore winter blues. Sailors line up arm’s length, called “Dress Right,” around the edge of the flight deck, facing out.
If the ship was coming into port, the sailors were usually at parade rest unless there was a special occasion, such as passing the Arizona Memorial in Pearl Harbor, at which time everyone on deck would come to attention at the appropriate time.
But coming home to San Diego, it was more relaxed. I felt a lot of pride and was happy to be returning to the good ol’ USA.
Welcome Home!
As we approached the pier, assisted by several tug boats, we could see hundreds of Navy wives and children waving with signs of “Welcome Home, We Love You!” The signalmen on deck were signaling to their wives. We didn’t have cell phones back then, so everyone with anyone was desperately looking over the crowd until they spotted a familiar face. Then you could see the joy in their eyes and the frantic waving, “I’m here, I’m here!”
The new fathers disembarked the ship first and greeted the new moms and their babies with open arms and tears—lots of joyful tears. Even some of the older salts remaining on the ship teared up. It was such a wholesome sight and even though I was still only 20 years old without a wife or girlfriend, it was extremely touching. The reunions are very heartwarming. And this “early” Christmas present was exciting to witness, never to be forgotten.
While a few of the wives had flown to the Philippines, Hong Kong, or Japan for a brief visit with their husbands, this was the first time many of them had seen each other in six months. It was truly wonderful to see so much love and affection in one place.
The first day we got back to San Diego, I had duty which I didn’t mind. I did not really have anywhere to go or anyone to see. I’d made arrangements to fly home for the Christmas holidays, but would not leave until December 20. I would have three weeks’ leave, too.
Home—Florida Christmas
Prior to leaving for home, I had made arrangements with Brack Barker and John Sideris, a couple of friends from the Operations Division, to meet a few days after New Year’s in Pensacola, Florida, where John lived. We would drive back together to San Diego in John’s Gran Torino: ROAD TRIP! We were planning a straight drive through, with no stops except for gas and food, so we figured it would take about two to three days.
I flew back to Florida on December 20. My sister picked me up at the Jacksonville airport and we drove back to Gainesville together. She had her orange 1972 VW convertible, and it was a great drive. It was good to see Anne; she had changed little since I’d last seen her nine months earlier. I didn’t really realize how much I had missed her.
The Long Ride Back—San Diego
I stayed home for two weeks through the Christmas holidays and then took a Greyhound bus up to Pensacola to meet Brack and John. We left in the early afternoon, heading west on I-10, and made it through New Orleans with no problems. I thought we might stop for a brief visit since I’d never been to New Orleans, but Brack and John were itching to get back to the ship. I didn’t argue. After all, I was just hitching a ride.
Do you know how long a drive it is across the entire state of Texas? It is long… it’s really long, and not that exciting for most of the drive. We took turns driving, changing every few hours, stopping to eat when we got hungry, and stopping for gas when the car got hungry. I drove through the night while Brack & John slept. Around 0400, I got tired and woke John to take over.
Car Troubles
About 0600 we were driving through some small Podunk town in west Texas and something happened to the car; the radiator temperature began to rise—it was not going to be a good day.
We pulled into the only gas station and since it was so early, the station had yet to open. The sign said it would open at 0730. We popped the hood and noticed the radiator was leaking where it was not supposed to. We figured we hit something on the road and for some reason it popped up and busted the radiator, causing the leak.
Across the street was a 24-hour restaurant, so we walked over to get some chow and wait until the gas station opened. The food wasn’t bad, but we were more concerned about fixing the car.
When the station finally opened the doors, the mechanic looked things over and said the radiator had a leak. Well, I could tell we had a real sharp mechanic here; must have been at the top of his class. He ended up pulling the entire radiator. They didn’t have the tools there to seal the radiator leak, but they could take it over to the next town, about 30 miles away.
However, this was a Sunday and the radiator repair shop was closed, so we would have to stay overnight.
Not a Quick Fix
Podunk had three businesses: a gas station, a restaurant, and a hotel. I think they were probably all in cahoots, but who was to say. We checked into the hotel, ordered a sailor’s 7-course meal (a hot dog & a six-pack of beer), and chilled out. It was not the most exciting part of the journey. The next day, I rode with the mechanic to take the radiator to be repaired, which didn’t take long.
A couple of hours later, we were back on the road again. We were in Podunk a little too long, but as I told Brack and John, it could’ve been worse. We could have had the radiator go in that long hundred-mile stretch of road with no gas stations in sight.
Interstate driving through New Mexico and Arizona was kinda boring, but when we reached the Arizona-California border, the scenery changed dramatically. The mountains were magnificent and, since dawn was just breaking, it was a breath-taking sight.
Back Home—Kitty Hawk
We got back to Kitty Hawk on Tuesday, January 6, 1976. It felt good to be back aboard.
It’s funny… when we had been at sea for the six-month cruise, I couldn’t wait to get off and get home to see my folks. But arriving back aboard, it almost felt as good as when I first got back home in Gainesville. I’ve heard many sailors say the exact same thing when returning to their Navy “home.”
When you’re in the Navy and stationed aboard a ship, she is your home. It’s hard to explain, but the feelings differed greatly from NAS Agana, Guam. There, we worked 24 hours on & 24 off. Most of us who weren’t married lived in the old WWII barracks when not on duty at the “Crash Barn.” Not bad accommodations, and it was what I’d call “home.”
But when stationed aboard Kitty Hawk, I lived on board whether we were docked in San Diego or at sea, except for a few months when we were in the Bremerton Shipyards.
Kitty Hawk was home and even though I’d taken a few weeks at Christmas in 1975 to come home to Gainesville, I looked forward to returning to my other home—USS Kitty Hawk, CV-63.
One More…
My birthday was this past week…
Got lots of nice Facebook birthday wishes from friends and family. One in particular was heartwarming. My son posted several photos of he & I over the years with a sweet message for his old dad. You know… the kind that wets your eyes a bit.
So I posted back, “T.I.M.E.” To me, that’s always meant, “Tears In My Eyes.”
My wife asked, “What does T.I.M.E. stand for?” I thought she was kidding. But, she decided to Google it anyway.
“Things I Must Experience” was one definition.
“Things I Must Endure” was another.
ROTF-LMFAO… (Google it, if you need to).
I don’t think I’ll live this one down.
Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays from Florida.
Until we meet again,
Andy