As a further preface to the report on our trip, I will give you an outline of a normal day at sea. Each day begins with reveille at 0630 (except Sunday), followed by breakfast from 0645 until 0730. Breakfast generally consists of eggs to order, ham or bacon, and fried potatoes, pancakes, or french toast. Juice, dry cereal, and fresh milk (when we have it) are available every day. A muster is taken every morning at 0745 and the working day begins at 0800. The full morning is devoted to ship's work, ending at 1100. Dinner is served from 1115 until 1200, and the time between eleven and one is usually used for sun bathing, catching up on sleep, reading or just plain relaxing. We begin each afternoon with training of one sort or another. General Quarters may be called, with drills held on each of the stations, or we may have some other kind of emergency drill. School call is held right after general quarters, or at 1300 if no drill is scheduled. The afternoon is also reserved for briefings or all hands lectures. Work continues until 1600, when we knock off for the day. Supper is served at 1700, and the remainder of the day is free. Doc Henri and Don Smith take turns calling bingo on Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday nights at eight on the mess decks, and movies are shown on the other nights. We also have a movie on Sunday afternoon. When the weather is good, we are able to show the movies in the evenings on the forecastle, leaving the mess decks clear for reading, letter writing, and card games.

Each man stands two four-hour watches during each day, with eight hours off between. Taps is held at 2200, but many with watches beginning at midnight or at 0400 take the opportunity to hit the rack long before then.

Saturdays are usually a half working day, with holiday routine in the afternoon, and Sundays are completely free. Breakfast is served to the watches from seven until eight, and brunch is open from ten until twelve.

We spent most of the first day out of port going through various underway procedures which are important in the case of emergencies. We practiced at general quarters and fire stations, went to abandon ship stations, and rehearsed man overboard procedures. During the long legs of the transit we carry a rubber fuel cell on the fantail in order to augment the fuel capacity of the ship's tanks. This is necessary because often there is weather which makes it necessary to use more fuel to fight the seas in making headway than normal, and there isn't anywhere to stop in between to get more. The cell, securely strapped to the fantail, looks like a blob, and that's how we refer to it. We had a number of practice "blob fire drills" during the first few days. An oil spill and fire on the fantail present an extreme danger to the entire ship.

After we passed Catalina Island on the first day, the weather got progressively worse. By Tuesday we were rolling continuously with the wind on the beam, and for that day and the next no work was done while everyone concentrated on staying in one place. Most everyone had trouble getting their sea legs back, and it was extremely welcome when the wind backed around astern of our course on Thursday and the motion of the ship gave way to a gentle rolling. While no one enjoys bad weather, the two or three days of concentration on staying on one's feet and not having a strict routine provided each man with a chance to settle down and become accustomed to being at sea in his own way. By the time the weather cleared and we got back to the normal routine, it was old hat to all hands. Friday the 21st saw us in the swing of things, with a week left before our arrival in Pearl Harbor.

The weather gradually improved, and by the beginning of the second week underway people began appearing in shorts and without shirts on the upper decks to begin taking advantage of the sun. Shorts and sneakers or sandals became the uniform of the day, and many hours were spent in cutting off and hemming old dungarees. There are still a few diehards who haven't yet come over, but everyone acknowledges the comfort of shorts in the warm weather.

Our first sight of land came on Wednesday, 26 February when one of the islands of the Hawaiian chain was sighted. We saw an increased amount of shipping traffic as we neared Pearl Harbor, and saw the lights of the island of Oahu early on the morning of 27 February, right on schedule. Almost all hands were still below as we made the initial part of the crossing to the south of the island of Oahu on the way in to Pearl Harbor, but hose who were up and about were treated to a dramatic view of the Diamond Head volcano crater outlined against the lights of the city of Honolulu.

We made our entrance into Pearl Harbor right after the sun came up, and the entire division was tied up by shortly after eight o'clock. Mail was waiting for us on the pier, and the first order of business was sorting and distributing the letters and packages. Our own mailman left the ship immediately, with a week and a half's worth of letters bound back to the States. A number of official matters having to do with our arrival were taken care of, and liberty was put down for off-duty personnel.

Most headed for the fabled beaches of Waikiki, where sun, sea and hotels combine into a tourists paradise and Hawaii's largest source of income. Thursday and Friday were spent in this way, with a minimum amount of time spent on shipboard work and necessary repairs from the voyage. We were surprised to see a formation of B-17 bombers of World War II vintage and a group of Japanese Zeroes doing maneuvers in the skies overhead, and felt that they had really gone all out to give us a sense of history. It was later discovered that they were in the process of making a movie about the events of 1941 at Pearl Harbor.

We took our departure on Saturday morning, 1 March, steaming out under clear skies and a stiff breeze. As we were lying to in the harbor waiting for the other ships to get underway we drifted past the monument to the USS ARIZONA, one of the battleships which was caught in the surprise attack on 7 December 1941. She still lies on the bottom where she was on that morning, and is the site of a structure which commemorates the men who lost their lives during the attack. We rendered honors, as do all ships which pass close aboard.

With our course set for Johnston Island, we spent the rest of the weekend enjoying holiday routine and recuperating from the always-hectic days in port. Suntans were begun in earnest, and Monday morning found most hands topside beginning on a massive repainting project of all the superstructure.

We took a brief rest from that on Tuesday, when we pulled into Johnston for fuel and a cold beer or two. The wind was strong, and complicated greatly our mooring and getting underway. A fine job was done by the First Lieutenant, LTJG Ken Martin, and by the Engineer Officer, LTJG Mike Miller, as well as by all hands on the sea and anchor detail, in getting us in and out safely. It was here that we experienced our first engineering casualty of any major significance. One of the main engines went down, and for the next thirty-six hours the enginemen stood port and starboard watches while teams worked at restoring it to operation. Since that time we have had a number of other casualties, and each time the engineers have turned to with a will to restore our full engine capabilities. Norm DeChenne, Larry Tipton, David Cassford, and John Holland, working under the direction of Chief Engineman Larry Ryder, and Les Hendry, Bob Richardson, Frenchy L'Heureux, and Wayne Walter, working with First Class Engineman Ken Neumann, have put in long hours to keep the main engines running throughout the transit. The fact of our still being on schedule is a fine tribute to their efforts.

Our next stop was on Tuesday, 11 March at Kwajalein Atoll, which is the western end of the Pacific Missile Range. We again took on fuel and allowed everyone ashore for a short time to do some shopping at the exchange and to have a beer at the club which was opened for our use. Mail was brought on board once again, and we left some to go off, although we understood that the mail plane had just left that morning and that the next would not be through for four more days.

Our entry into port was again complicated by the wind, which had helped us along on our transit, but LTJG Miller did a superb job of ship handling in bringing us alongside. As we made preparations for getting underway again, however, our engines deserted us one by one, and by the time the signal was given we were down to one of the four. I took the conn myself until we were underway and headed fair, and the fine performance of all hands at control stations made the job easy. The enginemen once again fell into their port and starboard watches while repairs went ahead, and within forty-eight hours we again had four on the line.

When we got underway from Kwajalein, we set our clocks ahead twenty-four hours, and what had been Tuesday afternoon became Wednesday afternoon. We had crossed the international date line two days before, but had not made the compensation for the date change at that time because Kwajalein keeps the same date as the United States. Our clocks have been set back an hour about every fourth day, and we are now in a zone which is eighteen hours later, on the same date, as the time in Long Beach. When it is nine o'clock where we are, it is three o'clock in the morning of the same day in California.

As we departed Kwajalein, we had an additional rider. Commodore Peterson, Commander Mine Division Ninety-One, came aboard to visit us for the trip from there to Guam Island. It is his policy to get around to all of the ships in his division to observe them in their daily operations and to establish a greater sense of rapport within the division.

We are now within one day of our arrival in Guam. The wind and the seas from astern have been helping us along for the past three weeks, but engineering problems have plagued all the ships, with this portion of the trip being the worst. The IMPLICIT and ourselves are presently proceeding ahead in order to arrive close to the scheduled time. The other three ships have fallen behind due to problems on DYNAMIC and PERSISTENT and will arrive in Guam a day late. We expect to remain in Guam for two weeks, while the ship undergoes a short period of overhaul and enters dry-dock for a cleaning of her bottom and replacement and repair of her slightly damaged screws.

We have received our schedule for the next three months, and expect to be out in the patrol area off the coast of Vietnam by the middle of April. After the first long patrol we will depart the area bound for a visit to Hong Kong, and then return to Kaohsiung, Taiwan, for a short upkeep period before returning to patrol duties.

Everything thus far has been highly successful. While casualties are to be expected on a trip of this length, the ones which we have had have been taken care of in good time and with a high degree of skill and professionalism. The obvious willingness and ability of all hands, and particularly the engineers, gives every indication that this will continue to be as fine and as trouble-free a cruise as has been experienced by any ship.

After our two weeks in Guam, we will depart to make the crossing to Subic Bay, Philippine Islands. A short stop there is scheduled, and then we will leave for the short trip to our patrol area.

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