Saturday, 06 February 1999
As of 0800, the Empire State was located at 18 degrees and 21 minutes North latitude, 064 degrees and 48 minutes West longitude, anchored in Pillsbury Bay, St John USVI, with 5 shots of chain out on the port anchor. The air temperature is 84 degrees F. Water temperature is 80 degrees. The skies are clear and the wind is from the northeast at 5 knots, sea state 1 (flat). Water depth is 50 feet. Barometric pressure is 1019 millibars and steady.
CAPTAIN'S LOG:
We took arrival at St. John, USVI at 0618 this morning. That means a lot of us were up and working well before 0500 (5 AM). One positive to the early reveille was a beautiful sunrise over the islands as the bridge navigation team brought the ship in between St. John and St. Thomas. The nav team, lead by Cadet 1/C Francis Terramagra (N. Andover) had it all clicking: GPS, visual bearings, radar ranges, parallel index lines, turn bearings and precision anchoring bearings and ranges. We were working a Watch Condition Three, meaning there were three officers on the bridge, but as the entrance and anchoring progressed it became abundantly clear that we were not needed. The whole evolution was over, and we passed the word: "Finished with engines", at 0800.
We're stopped at St John for the primary purpose of lifeboat training, with the fringe benefit that most of the cadets and crew will get an opportunity to go ashore for a swim. Don't think that it's all fun and games though, this is where the work kicks in. Today we plan on moving about 400 people from the ship to shore and, of course, back again.
No sooner was the anchor dug into the sandy bottom of Pillsbury Bay when the hatches were popped open, booms were being topped and spotted,accommodation ladders were were being lowered and fendered, and boat ropes were run. Anyone that wasn't involved in these tasks was assigned maintenance functions. By 0830, deck paint was being applied forward where the chippers had been creating constant noise these last three days at sea. Interior ladder wells were cordoned off for a fresh coat of paint after being scrubbed clean late into the previous evening. Passageways were being "soogeed" (washed and wiped down) throughout the vessel - even the deck on the bridge had the carpet removed for a good scrubbing while the decks were stripped in anticipation of a new coat of wax. Our relentless food service providers were busy bringing hundreds of hotdogs and hamburgers up to the boat deck aft as they lit the charcoal grills.
The first cadet operated launch departed at 0900 for nearby Cruz Bay with the ship's Purser and the Deputy Commandant of Cadets. Accompanied by all of our foreign students, they were going to "clear" the ship for entry into U.S. waters. Another plus to this stop is we can pass customs and immigration here and save time in Miami. Immigration requires that they physically "see" our 12 foreign cadets, the rest of us just have our documents inspected.
These are the days when there isn't a sad face aboard. I think it's fair to say not a soul on this ship is afraid to work. Couple that with the "as soon as it's done we go to the beach" and a little more effort and pride kicks in. I love it. Of course, I guess any Captain likes seeing the crew working with a gleam in their eyes.
Riding at anchor is a welcome break for me. At sea, I am always acutely aware of the motion of the ship and as the maritime saying goes: "A collision at sea can ruin your whole day." We have many hands, busy on the bridge and in the engine room, and although we are blessed with dedicated, experienced officers who watch over the cadets, a moment of distraction can result in a catastrophe. In port, the worry is just different. Imagine 450 adolescent, mostly teen age men and women going ashore in foreign lands that frequently have no drinking age and very different cultures. No matter how great our cadets are or how many times we warn them, temptation lurks in every dingy sailor dive and wharf rat bar.
No, it is at anchor when I can get a semblance of a good night's sleep. The ship is steady, there is a calm about the decks and spaces and all of our beach parties are back aboard shortly after the sun sets. The cadets who go ashore today will return exhausted from a full day of romping in the surf, lying in the sun and playing endless games of beach volleyball. Everyone will turn in early tonight...even me. The traditional 2200 (10pm) bridge watch announcement: "Taps, taps, lights out; all quiet about the decks" may be as unnecessary tonight as the extra officers were anchoring this morning.