This completes the briefing and out onto the Quarterdeck.

“Ready to relieve you, Sir.”

He’s standing out on the Quarterdeck wrapped in his Venetion overcoat, grey gloves, white scarf, and with a red nose not from too much booze, but rather the bitter wind that hits the ship with no obstructions for miles. He is the current Officer of the Deck and he returns my salute and we step back into the warmth of the deck house where he quickly sums up what I already know from the board. This takes a few minutes, but we check the board for errors as he talks.

“The Captain is ashore, the exec is ashore, the Captain’s due back at 0730 in the morning, the exec at 0300. The Command Duty Officer is Commander Smith, the Assistant Command Duty Officer is LCDR Jones. Their phones are as stated on the board. We are running officer’s boats from the ship at 45 minutes after the hour and they return from Fleet Landing at 15 minutes past the hour. The next P-boat (personnel boat for officers only, the enlisted personnel used much larger Utility boats) leaves at 11:45. The XO said to check the Med lights (Mediterranean lights, a string of lights from the bow to the highest mast and then back to the stern, put up in Mediterranean ports), for holidays (burned out bulbs) before dark. General visiting begins at 1300 and ends at 1600. The Chief on the after brow will call and ask you to call away the Echo, Foxtrot and Golf working parties to act as guides for the visitors at about 12:45. Other than that, things are usual. I will be in the wardroom for about thirty minutes and then in my stateroom if anything comes up that I haven’t covered. Any questions?”

“Not that I can think of…I relieve you Sir.”

The fateful words are spoken. From this point on, anything that happens on this watch will be my responsibility.

“Very well, I stand relieved. Quartermaster, LTJG Connors has the deck.”

With a sigh of relaxation and a brisk rubbing of his hands, my predecessor signs the log entry he made  in the “rough deck log” before I arrived, steps over the knee-knocker and heads down the hangar deck for that hot cup of coffee in the Wardroom.

The Quartermaster turns to his log and makes the entry and time that I have assumed the watch.

I, in turn, step back out onto the deck to take a look around to see if there are any boats headed towards the ship.

The signal bridge, located about five decks above my head, keeps a watch on duty constantly with binoculars to notify me if any boats are standing our way, but they don’t always see them all.

The air if very cold, but refreshing, in small doses.

The far off boats of Cannes, swing in the breeze.

At this distance, the beautiful city rolls itself like a white wave, far into the hills.

On the distant horizon, covers the mountains like a picture post card.

Well, things will be quiet for a few minutes it seems, better square this watch team away.

© Tracy D. Connors 2015 All Rights Reserved