Haze Grey

So, after a little more than two months on terra firma, I am once again sailing the ocean blue. No, this is not a major deployment or a maritime partnership engagement, and we are definitely not bound for Haiti. This very short underway period is for "Unit Level Training." This is what we do when we haven't been to sea for awhile, and we do if for very good reasons:


The ship: While in port there's been a fair amount of maintenance, repair, and upkeep on this forty-year old vessel. (I can personally attest to that from the frequent pounding, hammering, and needle gunning on the steel deck over my head in the last two months.) After all that repair work it's a good idea to take the lady out for a test spin close to home, just to be sure all the parts got put back together right. (So far it's looking good.) Also, the ship has to complete a certain number of certifications and other tests before it's allowed to stray far from home. Need to be sure all the many systems are operating correctly to so she's ready for a real world operational tasking.


The crew: As with any Navy crew, a lot of turnover occurred since we arrived home just before Thanskgiving from our last deployment. New sailors need to be integrated into the team, so they are comfortable with their duties, and - more importantly - their chiefs are comfortable with them. Also, we've completed three two-week leave periods, meaning many of our sailors have had their heads into things other than warfighting, like families, girlfriends/boyfriends, weddings and babies, travel, sightseening, holidays and hanging out. You know, the things about being Americans that we all really like, which are the very reasons why we rogered up to do these jobs in the first place. So the crew needs to get their heads back into the ball game and test their true mettle. Can't win a major championship without being practiced, tested, and fully focused (just ask the Dallas Cowboys about that one).


The Fleet staff: The ship is our headquarters and office. We go where it goes. And we do pretty much the same work from the same computers (albeit less bandwidth and slower connections), and we go to the same meetings in the same rooms and see the same people and view the same briefs and accomplish the same plans and taskers, afloat or ashore. The difference now is we don't get to go home in the evening, so we can work longer hours and have more meetings and do more plans, and it's all good for the mission. Of course we miss our families and loved ones, especially when there's been a lot of good cooking going on and we're in the middle of another gripping season of "Brothers and Sisters", and Matt is in exam week and about to start his last semester of high school, and track season is right around the corner. But we did sign up for this, and by being here we each do our own little part to ensure peace and stability in this part of the world...and thus help to assure a free future for our children and their children.


Life is a bit simpler while underway. No grocery shopping, cooking, dishes to do, car to fill with gas, lawn to mow, garbage to take out, or people asking what's for dinner. All of life is lived within the same 1000 feet from fore to aft. But the gently rolling sea is great for sleeping.


I'm reminded of what I heard a retiring senior officer say during my very first deployment 18 years ago: "I enjoyed every day when I was at sea on the ship. But I never missed it for even a single day when I was home with my loved ones."


I'm a sailor, and sailors go to sea. It is that simple. So, whether for a day or a year, I go wherever the ship takes me. Sooner or later I'll hear the familiar announcement of "Liberty Call, Liberty Call." Then I'll step off the ship and see where I am. And hopefully sooner than later, it will be back home.