Unwary, uninitiated shipmates—enlisted and officer—would be allowed to push themselves into the middle of the group where they would see a bucket…with “something” at the bottom.

“It’s a Sea Bat,” one of the sailors would exclaim, breathlessly.

The greenhorn would push forward, lean over the bucket to get a glimpse of the “Sea Bat”–to be stunned by the Whack of a fraternity paddle or a sawed off “swab” handle, on his too tempting backside–accompanied by gales of laughter.

Of course, the sailors had to grab the now “initiated” shipmate to keep further mayhem from taking place, but somehow they were always able to convince the initiate to help become an “initiator” by luring the next victim, ahem, “initiatee” to see a real “Sea Bat.”

Then, there were the initiation rites accorded new Sailors on their first “cruise”-being sent by their petty officers over to the spaces of another ship’s division asking to borrow a “pie stretcher,” “a left handed monkey wrench,” some “relative bearing grease,” or even to ask for the “sky hook.” An especially gullible new Sailor might be asked to assume watch–with binoculars–in the forward part of the ship to keep an eye out for the “mail buoy.”

…I also remembered during my days in Navy Hospital Corps School, fledgling Corpsmen being sent–by our head nurse–from ward to ward asking other nurses for “a pair of Fallopian tubes, Stat!” The nurses were always “fresh out,” and told the gullible Corpsman that some of the much needed supply might be found over on ward 77 South of the Naval Hospital.

… Standing on the Bridge during the cacophony of a live “firing exercise” with the five-inch gun mounts banging away at a target sleeve being towed down the starboard side of the ship by an aircraft at the end of a long wire. As the guns tracked and fired automatically-boom-(pause )-boom-(pause)–the barrels following and leading the target–boom.

They finally followed the target over the ship and to my shock I realized the barrels were pointed directly at and into the bridge. At the last instant, with their muzzles smoking and my heart pounding, the guns stopped firing, as they pointed directly at me. I realized, finally, that I had stopped breathing. That’s when I understood the importance of having the “cut out cams” on the guns working properly.

…En route from Naples to a rendezvous in the Western Mediterranean and behind schedule or “PIM,” position and intended movement. Steaming at a fast 25 knots through pea soup fog and navigating only by radar.

The Navigator mistook for the entrance of the Straits of Bonifacio what turned out to be a cul de sac–stark cliffs were waiting at the end of the sac. “Right full rudder,” came his yelled command to me, the Officer of the Deck. A glance at the Captain and his nod told me to follow the order.

“Right full rudder,” I told the helmsman and ordered the Boatswain’s mate to announce “Stand by for hard turn to starboard,” over the ship’s IMC or general announcing system.