A productive morning

I finally crawled in behind my little curtain last night around 22:30, which was actually around 21:30 since we lost another hour in the middle of the night (we're now 13 hours ahead of San Diego). Less than half an hour later however, there was a 1MC announcement to launch the alert 30 SAR helicopter. I opted to stay in bed (I wasn't on the alert 30 crew, obviously), since I was due to for an early wake up at a yet to be determined time. Fortunately, the alert launch was called off about 10 minutes later. I found out today that the launch was because a lookout on one of our accompanying ships thought he heard a splash and a scream--man overboard. Whenever a man overboard is suspected on a ship, the crew of the ENTIRE ship is immediately accounted for, ensuring that everyone onboard is seen by the "mustering petty officer" for each department. The goal for the carrier is to complete a man overboard muster within 15 minutes. That means EVERYONE must get out of the rack or where ever they might be and get to their "man overboard mustering station", which for me is the ready room. But, since the suspected MOB was on another boat, we didn't have to go through the muster drill here (thus, I was able to continue drifting to sleep). The other ship conducted two musters and got a complete accounting of everyone on board both times--that was when the alert launch was cancelled. I am told our crew was seconds from being ready to launch by the time they called it off. It always amazes me how we can hear that call, even being fast asleep and pull together a flight suit, boots, harness, vest, and other gear, get up to the helicopter, start it up, and be ready to go flying with about 15 minutes! The requirement is 30 minutes, but we are typically ready to go in half that time.

The call finally came for my ground turns around quarter to 4. The bad news was that we would be kicked off the deck at 5 so they could set the fixed wing alerts for later in the day. Nevertheless, I stumbled out of bed, briefed with QA, preflighted and finally got the bird spinning by about quarter to 5. We got one set of ground runs done, which is good because then they can either make adjustments if necessary before the next run or remove any vibe gear that is no longer required (if the vibes were in limits on the first run--which they were this morning, thanfully). Unfortunately, I missed one circuit breaker in the dark when I preflighted--the one for the #1 engine starter was still out, and we were so rushed that I never went back and double checked my breakers when the engine wouldn't start. So, I spun it up on #2. This just meant that we couldn't check the shaft vibes for #1 engine. The next crew will have to get that done. Part of the hazard of moving fast in the dark when you're tired, I guess. (Always an issue during alert launches, as you can imagine.)

Just as I had planned, I rolled right from the ground turn at about 05:30 into the UNREP, which started a little late due to dense traffic in the area they had planned to start. I watched the whole event from "Deck Control" which is a sponson (observation platform) on the starboard side of the ship overlooking Elevator 3 (the aft most el on the starboard side). Ironically, Deck Control is also the same place where all the sort-of out door exercise equipment is located: the "Lido Deck" as we've come to call it. At Deck Control, I was under the instruction of the ship's First Lieutenant. A ship's 1LT is in charge of the "deck" division, typically responsible for line handling, anchoring, exterior upkeep of the ship, etc (and once upon a time, maintaining the sails!). On a smaller ship, 1LT is often a job for a junior officer, usually his first job as an officer. It is usually held by a "Mustang", who is an officer who used to be enlisted. Deck division is made of mostly of Boatswain's Mates, and the 1LT and the ship's "Bos'n" are often prior BM's. When you envision the stereotypical foul-mouthed tatoo-covered burly sailor, you are picturing a Boatswain's Mate. Our 1LT is a LCDR and has been in the navy for 29 years!! He's about as crusty as they come, and has been on every type of ship and sea-going duty you can imagine. His knowledge of the history and lore of southeast Asian ports was impressive and entertaining. He had plenty of stories to tell during the 3 hours we were posted at Deck Control. He was also a good teacher, explaining the key elements of the connection, replenishment, and breakaway process. He knows why we (as aviators) are there--and he tailored his remarks (somewhat) to concern things we needed to know from the bridge of the ship, which is where we will apply this knowledge when we control the ship alongside someday soon. I was impressed at how close the ships steam relative to their sizes, how steady the distance between them remained and how well we matched speed with them. That stability is the hard work of frenzied navigation team up on the bridge--a skill set I'm painfully working on developing.

So, by 09:30, my commitments for the day were pretty much complete. I spent the remainder of the day slowly weeding through my stack of blue folders--many of which still remain--ironically writers block has set in for a handful of awards I'm editing. Writing about my day and writing performance evals and awards are two completely different styles of writing. As much as I love to recognize people for good work, I find this type of writing much easier and far more fun.