Part two of our story we discover that we do not have enough men qualified at the right levels to cover all of the Sonar stations. Needless to say this causes a bit of stress among all of us. Our “top guy” tells us that during most of the trip to Pearl Harbor, he will not be working in Sonar, but in the control room – making our shortage even worse. Fortunately (I think) a couple guys managed to quickly, maybe too quickly, finish all the required qualifications. Crisis averted…maybe.
Meanwhile, we discover that only two amongst us have the prerequisite credentials to guide us through our arduous tasks. This puts neither of them in a jovial mood. The situation threatens to reach epic proportions when the more rotund of these learned individuals announces his intentions to “leave us in the lurch” for the largest segment of our journey. Fortunately, the king of the realm has the power to bestow instant knowledge on a select few of our number with a mere wave of his hand (or stroke of pen in this case). Naturally, all the kings dukes, counts, bishops and court jester must place their blessing (and personal seal) on this holiest of parchments beforehand.
Port and Starboard watches suck, but hey, the days go to fast. One of us has to become very tired due to the other guy relieving the watch repeatedly, 20 min to 1 hour late. Thank goodness for no ship drills or we’d both be dead dogs before pulling into Cape Canaveral.
As the hours crawl by, it is becoming apparent that someone is fucking with the admiral’s mind. Strange and wonderful configuration changes are occurring from watch to watch. At one point, the admiral was on the brink of sanity due to the spaghetti like stowage of the supervisors’ monitor.