It has been many years, but I can still remember how I felt when I went to sea for the first time.
I was a 17-year-old kid who, before boot camp, had never been far from Sedalia, and there I was on a ship miles from shore and home. To tell the truth, when I went up on the main deck that first time and could not see land anywhere, I was a little concerned. The sea was not rough that day, as I recall, but the ship was rolling slowly from side to side, or port to starboard, for the sailors who may read this.
What made the day one I can’t forget was that I was apparently paying too much attention to the ship's movements, because it wasn’t long before I experienced seasickness for the first time. I remember trying hard not to throw up, and I was succeeding-right up to the moment a young shipmate ran up beside me and threw his breakfast up over the side of the ship. I immediately joined him.
I managed to live through that bout of seasickness, and I came to love the slow rocking of the ship that would lull me to sleep when the ship was at sea. I do recall getting a little queasy now, and then whenever the ship encountered a bad storm, but I think that is something that happens to a lot of sailors when the sea is really rough, even those who had spent a lot of time at sea.
I have always been a little skeptical when a salty old sailor tells me he had never been seasick. As I think about going to sea now, fear of the sea or seasickness is not something that comes to my mind; it is the shipmates I served with as boys and men that are never far from my thoughts, and I still miss them.
I came to realize early in my Navy career that there is a special bond that happens when you are part of a crew, a bond that can be as strong as the one we share with our family. I am sure the people who now serve or have served in the other branches of the military feel the same way about those with whom they have served. There was even a bond with the ship itself, which is hard to explain to those who have not lived for years surrounded by a metal hull that at some point begins to feel like home, and is just as hard to leave at the end of a hitch.
I have a large picture of my first ship, the USS Hawkins DDR873, that hangs in my family room, where I spend most of my time. When I look at that picture which was taken during one of my seven Mediterranean cruises I sometimes try to imagine where on the ship I might have been when it was taken, and while I can’t be sure if I was in the engine room where I spent most of my time or somewhere else; but sometimes when I look at the picture for a brief moment I almost feel like I am on her again with my shipmates. Call it a wishful daydream.
Old Sailor’s Wish
Lay my bones down in a boat
Unfurl its sails and let it float
Plot a course that lets me be
A forever voyager of the sea
Jack Miller
Jack Miller is a longtime Sedalia resident and former radio news reporter.
