Rum is the gift of
Neptunus Rex. It and the sea are inseparable. Rum is an island of "blue water" on dry land! I'm sure of it. Here's a true story about me and rum...so help me God!
In 1994 I fell in love with the ocean while I was in the Marines. I became a shellback aboard the USS Tripoli (I later crossed at 0*180* so actually I'm a Golden Shellback! I did "Wog Day" all over again!). It was the Tripoli's twilight cruise and some friends of mine and I attended her decommisioning. Before then, I would have never believed that one could become so attached to a ship. It saddens me to this day.
Afterward, once we had made out way back from San Diego to Irvine, CA, we all decided to grab some beer hang out and share sea stories (like my seeing the Tripoli roll far enough to port to bury the end of her raised elevator!). Well, I blew most of my wad on the beer but had just a little bit left so I bought a bottle of
dark rum and a package of goldfish crackers
. Goldfish and rum huh? Coincidence? I think not!
The rum wasn't a good brand...to be totally honest, it was generic. I bought it in Irvine! The stuff was bottled in Irvine! That ought to answer any questions as to its quality. It had a plain white label with a blue stripe on it and simply said "Dark Rum".
I proceeded to have a very good time. The other guys didn't like the rum so it was all mine. Along with that and the beer...well, let's just say I should have "reefed" when another friend showed up with a bottle of Goldschlager. Combine that with a package of goldfish crackers and cheap rum and you have a very "messy" room the next day. I swore I'd never touch cheap liquor again!
I didn't finished the bottle of rum and sometime during the night, it disappeared.
In 1997, I found myself on my second deployment aboard the USS Boxer. I had just been aboard the USS Tripoli for her twilight cruise three years earlier and strangely enough, this was the Boxer's maiden cruise. It was on this ship that I became a Golden Shellback. More good memories and a successful cruise...six months later and I'm back in the States checking into a room in the barracks while an older friend is checking out. His time was up! So, he's taking out the last of the garbage and I see something in the trash bag before he seals it up. There was my bottle of generic rum about 2/3 full! Apparently one of the guys at our little get together in '94 took it with him after I passed out and gave it to his roommate who never drank it because, well, it's generic rum! What moron would actually drink the stuff...Umm, gee, I don't know
.
Well, I had just arrived back home and my motorcycle was still in storage. I couldn't do much so I ordered a pizza and went downstairs to the soda machine because, well, I hear that rum and Coke go pretty well together.
About the time that the pizza shows up, my pal Jason also appears with a couple of 12 packs of Keystone Ice (gimme a break, we were young enlisted men). You can imagine how the night went after that. It wasn't as messy the next day an it was in '94 but boy what a headache!
Now, what I didn't know was the week before I had arrived back from WestPac, a couple of the guys in the barracks got really sloshed one night and started a brawl. It took about a week but the commanding officer decided that there was to be no hard liquor in the barracks until further notice. Based on that decision, our unit Sergeant Major charged the Duty NCO to perform that is known in the Marines and Navy as a "health and comfort" inspection for the purpose of confiscating any bottled liquor.
Now jump back ahead to me and my headache. I was roused by a knocking on the door. It was the Duty Sergeant and, long story short, he took my bottle of rum.
In 1998, I completed what was to be the final deployment of my Marine enlisment on the USS Essex. Just before we had left, I was promoted to Sergeant. That made things great! If you ever get a chance to be a Marine Sergeant on WestPac with the US Navy....do it. The cruise was awesome. More cobalt blue waters, more Southern Cross. flying fish, dolphins and sunrises over the ocean. I love it....I miss it.
I arrived back in the States from abroad for the last time. Since I was Sergeant now, one of my occasional responsibilities was now that of Duty NCO! Of course you now see where this is going right?
By now, Marine Corps Air Station Tustin had closed and El Toro was bleeding a slow death. Most of the units had already moved to Miramar and the barracks at the dying base were pretty much ghost towns save for the few individuals (like me) who were short timers and wouldn't have to endure the move south. I had not been back three days and I had to cover Duty NCO for an ill friend. Ordinarilly I would have been on leave but I was saving it for when I was discharged (terminal leave). It was about 1700 hours when I got a call from the Sergeant Major to start cleaning out the gear lockers of any garbage. I set about my assigned tasks and what should I find but my old friend...the generic rum.
I didn't drink it that night...duty you know. But when something like this happens 3 times, you have to believe that there's something else out there working it's magic. There was about 2 1/2 shots of the devils brew left in the bottle...right where I remember stopping.
I left the Marines about a week and a half later on a Tuesday in February 1999. That Saturday before, a friend of mine from Lake Elsinore asked me if I wanted to fo sailing. It was the first time I had ever actually done so on a sailboat. I don't know why, perhaps because I was nearing the end of an important part of my life, but I felt compelled to take along my old friend, this dark rum. We pulled out of Newport Beach and pointed towards Catalina. About halfway there, I took a long pull of straight (and nasty to that day) rum, poured the rest over the side, and passed the bottle to Davy Jones.
I like to think the story itself is really funny. But whenever I think of it I get a knot in my stomach and I think of how I miss the sea. It's that longing that brought me to this board. I've sailed very little since that day with my friend back in Cali 7 years ago. I've worked a little, finished my education but managed to avoid the pitfalls of life ashore (things like debt). That nomadic part of me is screaming, "Don't do it!" Avoid the mortgage, car payments, cell phone plans! Learn to sail! Get a boat! I've spent the better part of the summer thinking of how I plan to feed that desire.
I've spent the better part of my summer trying to figure out how to have another drink with the god of the sea.
Green as I may be, I like to believe that above all, heart and desire makes me a sailor.
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