Trivia Questions (Answers @ end)
- Who said, “Worry about your character, not your reputation. Your character is who you are. Your reputation is who people think you are.”?
- In what movie did we hear, “I will always love you and honor you and serve you, and stay as near to you as I can, and do everything for you, and live for you. I won’t have *any* life except our life together. I will just love you, Frenchy, all of me, loving you forever.”?
- In what song (and show sang it), did we hear:
Well, all day long while I’m working in town
Time slows down to a crawl
When I’m not thinking about you,
I’m checking the clock on the wall
Then it’s goodbye factory and hello loving
There’s a smile across my face
‘Cause I’m back in the arms of your sweet love
Where my thoughts have been all day
I’m writing a multi-part series of articles about a US Navy cruise in the Pacific, commonly known as a “Westpac.” I made one Westpac in 1975. It made quite an impression on me and it’s something I love to write about.
If you missed the prior blog posts, check them out:
WESTPAC—A US Navy deployment from the west coast to the western Pacific Ocean involving a variety of ships, including aircraft carriers, cruisers, destroyers, and submarines, as well as aircraft and other supporting units. Back in my day (mid ‘70s), the forward deployment base was Naval Station Subic Bay, Philippines. Currently, the forward deployment base is Yokosuka, Japan.
It took us about two weeks to get from Hawaii to PI (Philippine Islands). We had a couple of burps on the way (see earlier Westpac ’75 posts), but we made it. A few storms, a bit of rain, and… multiple passes of Russian surveillance aircraft and Russian surveillance trawlers.
Other than Guam (NAS Agana, Guam–Nov ’73-Feb ’75), an unincorporated US territory, I’d never stepped outside the United States. PI would be my first. That is, unless you count North Carolina.
I’d been assigned to the Crash Crew in V-1 Division while aboard USS Kitty Hawk (CV-63). We worked on the flight deck, and, like Guam, our primary job was to wait for something bad to happen.
Unlike Guam, there wasn’t much real estate on the flight deck. It was busy. It was smelly. And, it was dangerous.
They say working on an aircraft carrier flight deck is the most dangerous job in the world… I can understand the danger part, but many of my friends were in other branches of the military and they may disagree, especially those who’d been shot, who’d lost a limb, or lost a buddy.
But I’m not one to argue. While it was dangerous, it was also challenging and extremely rewarding. Once you’ve worked on the flight deck, I’m not sure there would be another comparable job.
Arrival
Kitty Hawk sailed slowly into Subic Bay on Jun 19, 1975, and tied up at Alava Pier mid-morning. This would be our overseas home port (forward deployment) for the next several months. We’d be in and out of PI seven times during our Westpac ’75 cruise.
Scene Camera Operator: PHC Lawrence Foster
Once the ship was within a hundred or so yards of the pier, several tugboats took over, gently nudging her toward the pier. You wanted to be careful with this maneuver since pushing 60,000 tons of metal too fast would be a bad day for everybody.
The Boatswains Mates then worked their magic with those on the pier to secure the ship with mooring lines and rat guards. Two flight deck elevators on the starboard side of the ship were lowered. The dock workers then moved the forward brow and after brow into place. These stations would be where the officers (forward) and enlisted men (aft) disembarked the ship.
Because of the Main Machinery Room flooding that happened a week earlier enroute to PI, Kitty Hawk would need additional time for repairs by the Ship Repair Facility Subic. I had no idea what the workers would be doing down there, but from what I’d heard, they knew their job. This wasn’t their first rodeo.
We had six duty sections in V-1 Division; that basically meant that of 80 of us in the division, each section comprised about 13-14 enlisted men. One section took duty every day, meaning that after normal work hours (usually 0730-1530), those who wanted could leave the ship and go on liberty. Those who had duty remained on the ship.
The procedure back then for enlisted men was to queue up in a line on the hanger deck and one by one, face and salute the flag, then turn to the Petty Officer at the After brow and say, “Request permission to leave the ship.”
In the mid-70s, we could wear our civvies while on liberty. Back then, as a young 20-year-old, bell-bottoms, polyester shirts, and loafers. A little different from what I wear today as a young 70-year-old.
Liberty
So how would I describe PI?
In no particular order, San Miguel beer, Jeepneys, baluts, grilled monkey meat, Shit River, martial law and… cheap hookers. (Ignore that last comment if you’re not drinking age; you know… where the drinking age is $5).
San Miguel beer was the local beer, and I cannot tell you how many times I walked into a bar in Olongapo City right after work, ordered a San Miguel, and received one caked in a thick layer of ice. It was so cold and tasted so good, especially on those miserable hot and humid days in the South Pacific.
Baluts were, well, the most disgusting thing I could ever think of. Take a fertilized chicken egg and bury it in the hot sand on the beach and leave it for about three months. Dig it up, remove the top of the egg, and eat it raw. It was considered a delicacy by Filipinos, but I can honestly tell you after seeing one of these up close, I needn’t see no mo’.
Jeepneys were old WWII refurbished jeeps. They still had the same engines, but had extended open rear cabs, enough to carry six people comfortably. They were flamboyantly decorated with different colors, flowers, and whatever else their owners could put on them. Jeepneys were all over the town and were the most common method of transportation in Olongapo City. Most of the time, you could bargain with the driver for the fare. That is, if you were sober enough.
Credit: USS Kitty Hawk Westpac ’75 Album.
Philippine currency was a piso. Most of the time, the exchange rate in summer 1975 was six pisos to one US dollar. If you knew the right people, you might be able to find someone to exchange seven pisos for a dollar.
Everything was cheap in PI. San Miguel beer, made in the Philippines, was usually three pisos; a hotel room about 30 to 40 pisos (don’t ask me how I know); and a decent meal was usually less than 15 pisos.
To get from the Naval base to Olongapo City, you had to first cross Olongapo River… what we called, “Shit River.” About 100 feet wide, it was rumored that houses alongside the river dumped their waste into the river. There was a low, wide concrete bridge we crossed to get over to Olongapo City. And… there was always a foul stench.
Credit: Douglas Arnold.
Almost every time we crossed, there would be several boats or canoes with a guy paddling and a cute kid—usually a young girl—standing on the bow, holding out a basket, hoping a sailor or two would toss out money. It was a sad sight, but that’s how some of those families brought in money.
The main street, Magsaysay Drive, was lined with bars, restaurants, and hotels. Back then, most of the bars had live bands playing all kinds of music. Country (my hangout), Rock, Soul, and a little Jazz. Rap music didn’t exist back then, and I can honestly tell you that I never heard Classical Music or Opera come from any of the bars.
I’d visit Bourbon Street in New Orleans years later, which brought back floods of memories of the sights, the sounds, and… the smells of PI.
My favorite dinner was either fried shrimp or shanghai fried rice (with a fried egg on top) with lumpia (think spring rolls). Wow… what a treat! Throw in an ice cold San Miguel and the total dinner cost was under three bucks.
Also, as a bonus, PI had Pandesal bread. It’s easier to describe with the senses: the aroma of fresh baked bread hits you as you walk down the sidewalk; warm in your hands as you reach into a paper bag, freshly filled with a dozen rolls by the vendor; soft & fluffy with a slight crunchy exterior and the sweet & buttery taste that melts in your mouth. All for one piso.
Life is good!
Midnight Curfew
Martial Law was in effect at the time I was in PI (1975), and the streets had to be cleared by midnight. PI was under martial law from 1972 to 1981 under the authoritarian rule of the Philippines president, Ferdinand Marcos.
The Shore Patrol made their rounds about 2330 (11:30 p.m.), letting everyone know it was time to go. Some guys went home with their “social relief workers” and others went to a nearby hotel. But most of us headed back to the base.
I’d heard that the local Filipino police had orders to shoot on sight if they found anyone in violation of martial law, but I never heard of anyone getting shot. I did hear, however, of locals chasing a sailor or two back, and since the base gates closed at midnight, the sailor had to swim across Shit River to escape.
I tell ya’… the decision to make: Shit River, jail, or getting shot. Thank goodness I was never in that situation.
Next time: Back at Sea: Flight Ops—Good and Bad
Until we meet again,
Andy
Andy Adkins is a US Navy veteran (’73-77) and the author of several books (www.azadkinsiii.com), many of which are free downloads (PDF, eBook format). He is currently retired and lives in Gainesville, Florida with his wife and life-long soulmate, Becky.
Previous Blogs mentioned in the Post:
- #185—Westpac ‘75
- #186—Westpac ’75 Flight Ops
- #187—Westpac ’75 Transit to PI
- #37—Hawaii, One Word: Beautiful!
- #53—You Always Remember Your First…
- #67—Flight Ops: A Day in the Life of Crash & Salvage
- #51—Shore Patrol: It’s Not Just a Job, It’s an Adventure
Answers
- John Wooden.
- The Sand Pebbles (1966), Maily (Emmanuelle Arsan). Note: also heard several times a night in almost every bar in PI.
- Daydreams About Night Things (1975), Ronnie Milsap; written by John Schweers.