Today’s sea story is going back once again to the mighty warship LABOON. I reported onboard LABOON in February 1999 and was told that the ship and her crew were scheduled for a deployment to the Mediterranean and Persian Gulf the following year. In the mean-time, we’d be busy getting ready for this deployment doing work-ups.
Work-ups are a series of qualifications that a ship and crew must complete prior to being deployed. These training events vary from ship to ship and for each deployment based on what the ship will be doing. There are some common threads that every ship must complete like Search and Rescue (SAR) and AEGIS LO (Light Off), other events are scripted, even more are tailored specifically for the mission the ship will be conducting while on deployment. These work-ups culminate in two evaluations known as COMPTUEX (Composite Unit Training Exercise) and JTFEX (Joint Task Force Exercise). These final events are held up and down the east coast of the United States (if it’s an East Coast ship that is), sometimes getting a port visit in the Caribbean.
On my first COMPTUEX/JTFEX1, we pulled into this the Caribbean island known as St. John’s, anchored in one of her harbors, and proceeded to enjoy liberty on the island. There was a liberty brief where the crew finds out about the places to go and not to go, the currency conversion rates, what the local security was like, liberty launch schedules, and the like. The drinking age in St. John’s was, well, there wasn’t a minimum, not like the prudes back in the states so I could drink if I wanted to without fear of getting into trouble even though I was only 19 years-old. I’d planned on going out with a few friends, checking out the local area, maybe do some shopping, and have a few drinks at a local tavern.
We went to berthing to change, gather our gear, and head out to the island for a day of island life and enjoyment. We walked around the town a bit, doing some shopping as we went, checking out places that we might want to come back to later, and eventually found ourselves in a tavern. One of the guys, McFarkle2 decided he was going to buy me my first drink. He ordered me a cement mixer, but the bartender didn’t know what that was, so he had to explain that it is one shot of Bailey’s Irish Cream and one shot of lemon or lime juice. The bartender produced the drinks which were handed to me. I was told to shoot the Bailey’s, keep it in my mouth, then shoot the lemon juice, swish the two together, and swallow. This I did without hesitation.
Those of you who know, know. Those of you who don’t know are about to find out. The citric acid of the lemon juice and the cream of the Bailey’s combine and form an instantaneous chemical reaction where the cream is curdled by the citric acid turning to a consistency like wet cement in your mouth. The texture is extremely unpleasant when experienced without warning, though, i’ve never tried the shot ever again to see if expecting the texture, or the flavors of the drink change the outcome I experienced. I somehow doubt it though.
Not wanting to look like a punk, I swallowed the drink, likely with an awful look on my face, since the bartender immediately gave me a beer saying that looked disgusting and this one was on him. I gratefully downed the beer as McFarkle guffawed at his prank. We stayed a bit longer having a few drinks while more LABOON sailors poured in through the door. Eventually, the CO (Captain), the Executive Officer, and a few others showed up in their dress uniforms; they had to attend some reception on the island in an official capacity before enjoying their liberty. The CO asked the crowd if we were having a good time, which we all responded in a resounding affirmative. He said the next round was on him, then turned to the XO and asked him to pull out his wallet. I only know this fact because I was close enough to hear him say this, I don’t think the rest of the crew knew he made the XO pay that day.
After awhile, we walked around town some more. One of the other OS-es was in a bar and had gotten extremely drunk and belligerent. He was fighting with another crew member and in an attempt to get away from said crew member who seemed to be trying to get him back to the boat. The argument turned physical at some point after the OS downed a half of a fifth of vodka and as they tousled on the ground outside the bar, the OS rolled into the street and was subsequently rolled over by a taxi. Shore Patrol showed up shortly after to take the OS back to the ship and have him checked over by the doctor on board.
At some point, I swapped liberty parties with some other guys. Back in those days, you could do that. Nowadays, you have to sign out with the same people you sign in with or else. Then, you could go out with whomever you wanted to, as long as you came back with someone from the ship and not alone, no one cared.
This new crew took me to a place called Larry’s Landing and started buying me more drinks than I could handle. The hook at Larry’s Landing was once you purchased the drink, the bartender sat the bottles and glass in front of you, and you poured for yourself. These guys were so great, they decided to pour for me. I think by the end of the night, there was only rum in the cup and very little pineapple juice at all. This is where things get a little fuzzy, but I’ll recall what I can.
There was karaoke at Larry’s Landing that night, which I participated in. At some point after singing, a girl (not from the ship) came up to me and read my t-shirt. It was from the New Pig corporation back home in central PA. It had the word Oink screen pressed onto it.
The girl said, “I like your shirt, oink oink baby.”
I said something along the lines of, “I bet you squeal pretty good.”
I never saw that shirt again.
At some point, Shore Patrol came up and decided I’d had enough. They asked some folks to take me back to fleet landing to get on a liberty launch and back to the boat. I was fine up until I got on the liberty launch and all that rocking and rolling next to the pier made me sick. I managed to get my head out a window to feed the fish instead of all over myself which probably made the fish sick, but saved my life from alcohol poisoning.
I remember while waiting for more crew members to come up and get on the liberty launch, I saw my Chief who looked so drunk. Shore Patrol was fighting with him, trying to get him on the liberty launch, but he didn’t want to go. Finally, he agreed to go if he could have one more cigarette before boarding the liberty launch; Shore Patrol acquiesced to this. Standing on the pier smoking a cigarette,
Chief looked at the Shore Patrol guy (poor devil), and said, “you know, I could run right now”, then quickly moved like he was going to run back to town for more liberty.
The Shore Patrol guy jumped after Chief, then realized he was bluffing and tried to laugh off his embarrassment chagrined.
The ride back to the ship was probably the roughest seas I’ve been in, the constant pitch, roll, and yaw of the ride made me sick several more times. I was the last one in the liberty launch and had to be pushed up the accommodation ladder, a ladder that hangs off the ship from a J-bar davit and stretches some 30 feet from the waterline to the main deck with only a few bracers on it to keep it pressed against the side of the ship. When it’s not in use, it is lifted up from the J-bar davit, then it folds up neatly and is stowed on its side on the gunwale of the ship.
Somehow, I made it to the top of the accommodation ladder, requested permission to come aboard and was about to go to my rack when everything went black. Supposedly, I’d passed out right there on the quarterdeck of the ship. I don’t remember much after that except the sound of bells ringing, and a voice announcing, “LABOON, returning.” This is what is announced when the CO returns to the ship. I looked up long enough from my prone position on the non-skid (cement and stones mixed into the deck paint of the ship to keep people from slipping) to see the CO peering down at me.
“Seaman Schmidt, are you f***ed up”, the CO asked.
“Yeshir,” I slurred.
“F***ing booter”, the CO said as he staggered off to his bed.
I don’t remember how I got to my rack after that. I remember waking up when someone came by to check on me and make me sign paperwork saying I’d been placed on class Charlie liberty. That meant I couldn’t go out in town during this port visit again.
“That’s fine, I’m never going out or drinking again anyway”, I lied to myself.
Afterwards, I was told that one of the other OS-es had to keep watch on me to make sure I didn’t swallow my own tongue while I was sleeping it off. Apparently I made this individual watch George of the Jungle starring Brendan Frasier several times. But to be fair, that movie still holds up to this day and he and I aren’t friends anymore, so I feel like I got even with him.
The one thing that always struck me about this story is that no one, not a single person I’ve ever known or heard about since, would have been able to get away with something like this. The Navy seemed to change the way port visits were conducted after this one. Maybe it’s because the front of the local newspaper the next day had a picture of my Chief dancing on top of a table with dollar bills sticking out of his pants.
Footnotes:
- COMPTUEX and JTFEX used to be two separate events. COMPTUEX was one month long, JTFEX was two weeks long with a break in between. In recent years, the Navy has moved to doing COMPTUEX and JTFEX back-to-back, then immediately sending the graduating ships on deployment following both events.
- Names were changed to protect the guilty.
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