Chapter 25: What to Expect

I held our first orientation meeting with the girls in the salon.

"I'm sure that you've noticed that there isn't a lot of spare room aboard ship. The only place you have for your things, is in your locker. Outside of that, everything must be picked up, and everything must be kept clean. That is why we have five crewmen on board just for that purpose. That's almost half the crew. They do the laundry, clean the carpets, dust and wash everything, and clean inside and out. If they find anything that needs attention that they cannot give, then it's their job to tell me right away, so that I can get it fixed the next time we're in port."

"Three men, besides me, stand watch and are responsible for getting us from one port to the next.

Three men watch our engines, generators and water maker. They do preventative maintenance, fix them if they break and keep the engineering spaces clean."

"Two men feed us all. They clean up the galley and the mess too. They're responsible for buying all the food and drink, making sure we stay healthy and don't eat rotten grub."

Then there's me. What do I do? I fish! No, really, I own the ship. I pay the bills and the paychecks too. I arrange for and schedule the cargo, and collect the fees. I make sure the fuel bunkers have fuel in them, the food bills get paid, the insurance gets paid, and the ship's certifications get renewed yearly. I'm responsible for ship's security. I coordinate any combat. I hold drills for abandoning ship, the fire drill and the collision drill. I see to the repenishment of expended ammunition. I'm responsible for checking the weather and confirming our course. I negotiate with Portmasters for our berth. I'm in charge of any ship's upgrades."

"We all have papers proving that we've gone through specific courses, and have taken certain standardized test to insure that we're qualified for our jobs. All our jobs are important to the running of the ship. We depend on each other to do our jobs so we an stay alive at sea. It is not an easy or a safe life."

I heard a girl ask, "Why do you have such a big set of rooms compared to everyone else?"

"That's because I had the ship built and I made that space for myself. It's called the owner's perogative or the keel-owner's perogative. Just ask the rest of the crew--each person's berth is six to eight times the size of what they'd get on a regular ship--or more! A standard rating would have thir own sea chest and a bunk with a curtain around it to call his own. That's it! For the first four years or so in the Navy, that's what a regular seaman has to call his own, and God help you if the Bos'n catches you leaving your bunk not made up, or your clothes in a pile. You would keep your dirty clothes in a 'ditty bag' and everything else folded away neatly. That would be your job and what you signed on for, over and above your other tasks. That's your contract. That's what you live for and what you die for. never cast it aside or disregard it. It is your contract with the captain to keep you alive."

"This is a very quiet ship. She was made that way. I went to a lot of expense to make her that way. Any yelling, screeching, fighting or screaming will get you locked in a locker, with just a chair for a while, to think about how stupid you were acting."

There are certain alerts that you have to listen for, all day and all night, every day and every night as long as you're aboard ship." I used the intercom to contact the bridge. "Please run the alert tone sequences, with pauses between each alert. I'm running a familiaization class in the salon. Thank you." I turned back to them. "Notice that I said 'please' and 'thank you'. That's respect. It goes into everything we do and say."

A single chirp rang out. "Please disregard the next series of alerts."

Next, a basic alert chirp came over the intercom, as it just had before the message.

"That's a head's up that a message is coming but you can keep working."

Next came two chirps.

"That means put down what you're doing and blood well pay attention."

Next came a short klaxon.

"That means sit down and hang onto something--quick."

Finally came three siren pulses.

"That's usually followed by a quick modifier, like 'Fire-Fire-Fire Engineering' or 'Incoming Missile' or 'Abandon Ship'. If you ever hear any of those, or the word 'Scuttle' then run, don't walk, to the lifeboat, and pile in. Dont' touch any controls. Enough people will soon be following who will know what to do. At that point you're 'spam in a can'. You have no responsibility but to sit tight, shut up and not panic."

I looked around.

"Any questions?"

Nope, nothing but lots of head shakes.

"All right, first quiz: Is it all right to leave your toothbrush in the bathroom sink? Answer: Nope, not unless you want it to make clse friends with the trash can. Get the idea? Nothing is left out, nothing out of place. You're going to hate the phrase 'ship shape and Bristol fashion'. Just be glad we don't have brass to keep polished." I gave them an evil gran as I added, "If this were during the days of sailing ships you'd never know what the owner's face looked like, or that of his doxy. You'd soon learn to fear the third mate, as he'd carry a knotted rope-end as long as his arm to thump you with, and he'd walk very, very light on his feet. So you see, things could be much, much worse. Class dismissed!"

The girls either studied during the times their men wer on sift, or accompanied them about their duties, learning what they could of the tasks involved. Off duty, it was a different story. There was much cavorting and scurrilous use of the sauna by groups of four or more. I smiled ans wiped down the sauna with cedar oil to keep the odd smells at bay. I heard some German exchanges here and there, but the language exchange seemed to be going pretty slowly.