Sea sickness, with a dash of embarrassment, and a teaspoon of foot rot

Well, this has been a pretty interesting day. Not in a positive light however, the day's events have proved somewhat detrimental to my general well-being.

First off, my sis has gone back to Tazzie. She should have arrived back at her second home this morning, and I'm assuming she and David are in the midst of unpacking all their luggage as I'm typing this. Lucky... When will my time of liberation come...? (after ORD of coz, duh)

Right. To the events of today! I went to work this morning dressed in a grey textured AL shirt, black straight cut pants and my black duck bill court shoes for a morning operation. Generally, whenever we have to conduct checks at either the airport or naval bases, we have to dress up in a more formal sense. This morning, our area of operation was one particular naval base at one corner of our island. Me, along with my Indian platoon sergeant, my section commander and 2 other colleagues, set off from our camp in our white GP car at about 7.30 in the morning, only to turn back 5 mins later, after realising that we forgot to bring some essential documents and tools! Bummer number 1.

Documents in hand, we set off from our camp once again. Now, the naval base which we were headed to happened to be on the other side of the island from where we were. Yes, it is a long, long way from camp. 15 mins into the journey, my eyes chanced upon the drooping fuel meter on the dash, which was just hovering about the "E" mark. There was NO way we were gonna get to our destination and back with that level of fuel. SO, we spent the next half an hour or so circling the Woodlands area for a Shell station to top up the tank. By this time, we were already late. In fact, to say that we were bloody late, is an understatement. Bummer number 2.

With the fuel meter pointing north again, we set off once again to our destination, only to have the stuffy silence in the GP car interrupted by the ring tone of my section commander's mobile. It was the personnel at the naval base, who had been informed beforehand of our spotcheck, and were of course, waiting impatiently for our arrival. The reason for the phone call? To inform us slow-pokes that a full Kernel (in lay man's terms, a big f*ck* in the military) was ALSO waiting for us, the VIPs, to arrive and get our spotcheck done and over with. Big boo boo. Never piss off a person who can send an email addressing the most minor of concerns to our guy at the top. Cause in a spiralling manner of destruction, it would land very, very heavily on us mortals. Bummer number 3. Anyhow, after a swift and diplomatic negotiation, my section commander managed to resolve the situation, and the Kernel went about his business without too much hassle.

Upon arrival at the base, we discovered that our area of concern was a relatively small gunner ship. Still, it was large enough to hide plenty of contraband items (e.g drugs, ammo, porn, dildos, pets, monkeys from Thailand, wives from Thailand etc. etc.), so the 5 of us split into 2 teams. Unfortuntately for me, I was paired with my platoon sergeant, a 32 year old regular who is absolutely ON THE BALL when it comes to checking stuff.

Let me take this opportunity to point out that this was the first time that I've done a spotcheck on board a navy ship. Somehow, I missed out on plenty of similar operations in the past, so today was the day that I would pop my cherry.

So I hop on board, closely behind my platoon sergeant (PS for short). We climb down a narrow hatch into the men's quarters, just like those in the movies. Mind you, the area in which the sailors sleep is painfully squeezy. More than 10 men have to make do in area that is no bigger than, say, 4 or 5 toilet cubicles? Anyhow, I get right down to business, getting on my knees and checking their beds, bags and lockers.

Now, let me remind you, that the ship I was on had already been docked, and since it was a relatively small gunner ship, the waves were sure as hell swaying the whole damn thing left and right. Within 5 mins of being in such a confined space with all the extra sensory entertainment, my body soon got the better of me. Cold sweat, blurred vision, clammy hands. Yup, that's right. In no time, I was as sea sick as an African bushwacker on a speedboat. Instead of focusing on checking the sailors' belongings, I was focusing on keeping my breakfast in my stomach, where it belonged! My shirt was soon soaked in sweat, and I found that I got more and more disorientated in my movement and speech. The naval officer who was with me, recognized my symptoms, and started yakking about how motion sickness is taken to another level out at sea, where the crew sometimes experience swaying of up to 70 degrees left and right. Stop and think about that for a moment. 70 degress, 20 short of having ur face re-decorated by the metal wall that's supposed to be next to you. And if seasoned sailors respond to that sort of treatment by puking their bodies inside out every hour or so, imagine what it'll do to a sea virgin like me. I'd probably find a gun and shoot myself in the head, assuming I can shoot straight in the first place.
And so I left the quarters, sea sick, sweaty and embarrassed. Bummer number 4. But there's worse to come.

Before we arrived at the naval base, one of my colleagues had told us a story about how his friends in the navy would often hide their illegal pets in the engine room during a spotcheck. Pedigree dogs can be bought in Thailand at 10% of what it would cost back home, along with snakes, lizards, and even monkeys. So, my "on the ball" PS decided to check the engine room right after the quarters. Climbing down the narrow hatch, the first thing which hit me about the room was the HEAT. Of course, the engine room is exactly what it looks like in the movies. A bloody huge engine, squeezed into a tiny room. Engine blocks, pipes, gauges, wires, and all sorts of mechanical gizmos all over the place. The second thing about the place? The noise. The engine crew had ear mufflers on to protect their ears from the insanely loud metallic bangs and screeches heard from deep within the metal monster that runs the ship. And the 2 of us MPs, with ears exposed, went about our business of looking for monkeys that could be hidden right under, hmmmm, that big spinning thing that looks like it could dice a metal rod into sushi? The third thing to hit me? The HEAT. It was fuckin HOT down there... The cold sweat I had incurred from the motion sickness was soon replaced by sticky hot pespiration. As I squeezed myself through the narrow passage ways, I was afraid to even touch anything, considering how amazingly hot the air was. Would I want to lift that metal hatch open and risk having my finger tips fried like eggs on a hotplate? No thanks. So, it is without a bloody doubt, that I left the engine room a very relieved man. Never has sea air smelled so fresh, or felt so cool. It was so horrible down there, that I actually forgot all about the swaying. Bummer number 5.

Well, that just about sums up my first ever operation at a naval base. Not an ideal way to learn the trade, and unfortunately, this is probably the first of many similar operations that I will be taking for the rest of my one and half years left in service. Ay... Oh, did I forget to mention that it took an hour or so of fresh air, with both feet on solid ground, as well as a bottle of Axe oil to alleviate my motion sickness? Ay....

Back at camp, I had my lunch, showered, and took a well deserved nap. OK, perhaps it was too much of a nap. I had intended to wake up before 3 to head to the gym, but by the time I did, it was almost time to book out. Waste of time, gain of fats. Bummer number 6.

Well, it's alright. I can always go for a swim back home. The pool here closes at 10pm, so I intended to go down at 9 and wade around for an hour. However, just a few mins before leaving, I felt an odd itch at the bottom of my right foot. Upon inspection, i discovered a piece of loose skin hanging over a red spot, smack in the middle of my sole. Being the fool that I am, I tugged at the skin. RIIPPPP..... Pain jolted right from the fresh wound all the way to the tips of my ear lobes. I had to hop around the house on one leg looking for medication and a plaster.

And so now here I am, telling you what an interesting day I had today, with a hole in my foot, and a whole stack of wasted time. In fact, as I was typing the part about how I started to get sea sick in the quarters, the nauseating, swaying motion started to come over me again! The power of the mind and memory...

Well, that's all for now. I hope you enjoyed reading this account, and had a good laugh or two at my antics. Until next time...