A New Old Watch. 9th in the STOPWATCH Series - Cover

A New Old Watch. 9th in the STOPWATCH Series

Copyright© 2013 by Old Man with a Pen

Chapter 59

Myron C. Jones, USMC, at times could swear the life Jerry Garcia wrote about was Myron's life... 'What a long strange trip it's been.'

Marine Lance Corporal Jones, "Jonesy," was a crackerjack bulldozer driver before he joined the Marines ... after nineteen years in the Corps, he wasn't much better.

(Crackerjack. A cheap prize from a box of popcorn.)

Jonesy has been, variously, a private, a Sergeant, a Warrant, a Sergeant, a private, and nearly every possible rank in the Corps. Once upon a time he had a string of solid gold 'good conduct' stripes on his dress uniform ... once upon a time.

Through no fault of his own (Just ask him.) Sergeant Jones had returned to base on foot, with a black eye and very bruised knuckles. He was chased in the gate by the police ... who were stopped at the gate ... and instructed to turn around, submit proper paperwork and, "The Major would review and process ... yada, yada, yada."

When the very pissed off Mayor showed up at the gate the next day, he was deigned entry, but Private Jones was no longer available. Private Jones was "on a mission of National importance."

"But what about my wife?"

'A man your age has no business bring married to a teenager, ' thought the Major. "Congratulations, I hear you're going to be a daddy."

Sure, Major ... rub it in.

Private Jones spent the next few years, teaching (advising by example) indigenous volunteers the health benefits of digging holes in dry sand, and learning how to actually operate an Armored USMC CAT D9R. He was a far better rifleman.

Finally back in the States, he was stationed at USMC Air, Key West.

Lance Corporal Jones' orders were to assist Coast Guard Chief Petty Officer Sanchez. Sanchez was in the Coast Guard NOW ... but he had been a Marine, and once a Marine, always a Marine ... Semper Fi, (OORAH) no matter what. Jones had one more year to retirement. The Chief said move that pile of scrap ... he did. It wasn't exactly a ball of oozing aluminum ... but it was close ... and out of the way.

Once upon a time, Key West was a Naval Air station of importance, now it was old, obsolete, and if it weren't for the Marines and Coast Guard it would be a subdivision.

Local developers would prefer it as a subdivision. It was prime oceanfront property just crying for housing and millionaires.

Before it was a Naval Air Station ... it was a Naval Base and before that it was a Naval Yard with all the bells and whistles that go with it ... including a drydock, a floating drydock and a Graving dock.

The new boat was large enough to be lifted by sling and placed on the hard but the crane to do the lifting wasn't ... large enough.

Lance Corporal Jones next job was to push the junk and garbage of fifty years of disuse out of the floating drydock. Dragging the junk with the blade (bulldozers don't float ... personal experience) while the Navy crew checked valves and pumps, Lance Corporal Jones was uncovering a treasure trove of old tools. Brass wrenches and hammers the likes of which were, in their day, as expensive as the proverbial 600 dollar toilet seat. These were pounced upon by grizzled Chiefs who had come to watch the fun. Uses were disclosed and debated and not a few tears were wiped from 'smoke filled' eyes.

Eventually, people were satisfied and Jones was requested to push the dock down the old seaplane ramp and into the water. Just like Ivory soap ... it floats. a launch acted as tug and positioned the dock where the old records claimed it should go. All was ready for the new boat.

There are those who say that a single masted vessel should have a mast height exceeding the hull length by 15 to 20 percent. A boat, such as the King's Knight, with a length of 87 feet, had a mast of one hundred feet ... thirteen feet taller ... just about 15 percent.

A sloop, single masted vessel, of one hundred seventy five feet would have a mast of 210 feet.

A ketch, two masted vessel, may easily have the same sail area with a hundred and forty foot Main mast and a seventy foot Mizzen. Esthetics favor the long slender single mast of the sloop but the two masted ketch is a better small crew boat. A schooner is a two masted vessel that has a Mizzen taller than the Main, they are beautiful but require a large crew.

Since the clearance height of the Golden Gate bridge is 220 feet and the bridge can flex as much as 10 feet downward a shorter mast height is desirable. Throughout the world many bridges are hazards to navigation. Sydney Harbor Bridge clearance is 151 feet. Where a big sailboat can weather a storm depends on where it can safely go.

David and Andrea were standing on the wharf watching to the north. The new boat had radioed its soon arrival.

Although they didn't notice, they were holding hands ... excitement, anxiety, anticipation? Comfort? They were holding hands. An incongruous pair ... she, younger, short and slender ... he, older, rising tall and fit. Not Mutt and Jeff, but still a source of amusement or romance to those watching from behind.

After a few minutes, David noticed. He picked up her hand and kissed the back of it ... she started. Startled she moved to retrieve her hand but looked it in wonder instead. Love is sneaky. It creeps ... lingers in hiding ... and pounces. Some people never find it ... Andrea found it twice.

Henry, the Nevis and St. Kitts Ambassador, was a romantic at heart. 'Ah ... young love, ' he thought. 'So rare.'

The first thing visible of the new boat was the naked mast. Slowly more mast appeared until the deck house was visible.

The crew on the floating drydock opened valves and let air out and water in...

"Big," said Chief Sanchez.

"Really big," said Lance Corporal Jones, from the armored cabin on the D9.

"It'll fit," said one of the visiting Navy Chiefs.

"Do those idiots know how to get it in the dock?" asked Attorney General Thornburgh.

Instant action!

The motor launch was piled high with old Navy Chiefs and left the dock with them fighting for control and seating. They motored out to the huge yacht. Everything stopped as the Chiefs scrambled up the stern ladder. Command was released and taken, the bow was manned and lookouts stationed. The big boat slowly motored into the floating dock. Bracing was positioned and the pumps started.

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