Chapter 10  The Shitty Kitty
I wish to thank Art M. for his editorial assistance.

Friday, June 23, 1978

The descent to the San Diego international Airport was far less scary for Porter the second time around.  After collecting his duffel bag, he went to the locker where he'd stored his portable TV.  Porter's dad had let him have this TV when he went to A school.  He was so busy he never had time to use it.  Porter didn't see any sense in taking it home with him on liberty so he locked it in a locker at the airport terminal.  He didn't know that these lockers were reserved for a limited amount of time.  When he went to the locker to retrieve his TV he found a red tag on the lock.  Wondering what had happened to his TV, he proceeded to the information desk.  After paying a $10 fine, he received his television.  The TV had a 5-inch screen and ran on either AC power or batteries.

Porter exited the airport terminal and flagged down a taxicab.  "I need to go to the USS Kitty Hawk," Porter had informed the taxicab driver.

"You and 2500 other sailors," answered the taxicab driver.  "That will cost you $20, but I'll be able to take you right to the pier."

Porter decided that the $20 was worth it in order to go to the right place.  He wasn't sure how to get to the Kitty Hawk taking a bus.  The worst part of the ride for Porter was going over the Coronado Bridge.  To Porter this bridge seemed like a large house of cards.  The highest point of the bridge was more than 300 feet above the water.  That's just high enough for the tallest aircraft carrier to be able to navigate underneath it at low tide.  Unlike the suspension bridge, which seemed to make sense to Porter, this bridge was supported by long columns of cement.  In an earthquake, Bill theorized, this bridge would topple like a house of cards.

Bill noticed the houses on Coronado Island were all very expensive.  Soon the taxicab approached the main gate of Coronado Naval Air Station.  The guard at the main gate waved the taxi through and the cab proceeded to the pier.  Porter was blown away by the size of the aircraft carrier.  He got out of the taxicab and paid him the $20.  He picked up his duffel bag and proceeded up the three-story gangway to the after brow of the ship.  Porter proceeded to the check-in point and did his required salutes.

The hanger bay of the aircraft carrier seemed to glisten as Porter looked across it.  He was still very much feeling the effects of the acid he'd taken several hours before.  His entire leave was spent being totally wasted.  His friend Mike had kept him well supplied in both acid and marijuana over the course of his leave.  The LSD was very good, and was in sugar cube form.  He made sure that he had a couple left for him and Heinz to enjoy.  Just before he left his house, he was confronted by his mother.  She looked him in the eye and what he saw on her face was anguish, concern and a look that could only say I might not ever see you again.  This should have disturbed Porter.  Many things should have disturbed Porter, but he still didn't seem to get it.

The Junior Officer of the deck picked up a telephone and called somebody.  "I called down to your division office and they are sending somebody up who will escort you to your new division.”  Soon a man, not much taller than Porter, approached - after seeing him closer, Porter was surprised this man was even in the Navy.  He appeared to be 50 years old, and at least 50 pounds overweight.

"Follow me," he said in a high squeaky high-pitched voice.

Porter tried to follow the man, but he walked twice as fast as any normal man would want to walk.  Porter was struggling with his duffel bag and his uniform bag, trying to keep up with him.  Finally, they entered a small office and the man sat down behind a desk and took off his hat.  The guy looked like Bozo the clown.  The top of his head was bald and he had red hair on the sides of his head.  "Welcome to the Kitty Hawk, I'm first class Petty Officer Scrimenger.  You will be assigned to S-2 division for the duration of your time of enlistment.  I'm the division morale Officer."

'This guy looks like those queers I saw at the Armed Forces YMCA.'  Porter thought.

"As a cook you'll be working long hours..."

'Long Hours?!  Wait a minute, nobody said anything about long hours.'

"Do you have a preference as to whether you want a top, middle, or bottom rack?" said Scrimenger.  The sexual innuendo for which Scrimenger was implying went right over Porter's head.  Scrimenger however, knew exactly what he was implying.

"I prefer to have a top rack."  'I bet people on the bottom racks get covered with puke from the people in the top racks. I sure don't want a bottom rack.'

"I have a top rack available, your rack number is 23.  You'll be off until Monday at 0700 hrs.  At that time, you'll attend orientation.  You will spend all of next week in orientation.  Then you'll be assigned to either the port or starboard watch of the galley.  You'll work three days on and three days off, two days on and two days off.  You'll start at 0500 hrs and often not finish until 2100 hrs while you are in port.  When we are out at sea you will work every day.  At orientation next week you'll learn everything you need to know.  Follow me."

The man abruptly jumped up, put his hat back on his head and shot out the door.  Porter, once again, had a very hard time keeping up with him.

His welcome into S-2 division was at best minimal.  There were several comments saying, ‘welcome to hell’.  "Hey Sheridan, how's it going?  How long have you been here?"  Porter said, seeing a familiar face.

"Hey Porter welcome, I've been here a couple of hours.  I ran into Heinz a little while ago.  He's in S-4 division.  He's been looking for you."

"I still have to put away my gear.  Where is S-4 division located?"

"You take this hallway right outside that door over there, and you walk a long ways.  You walk until you see another door that says S-4 division on it. It will be on your left just past the forward galley."  Sheridan replied.

"I've been assigned a rack down this hall all the way up on top to the right, Sheridan," Porter replied.  "Where are you located at?"

"I'm two racks below you on the bottom."

Porter quickly unpacked his sea bag into his locker.  Because he had a top rack he had a larger locker than most of the other people.  Every rack except the top rack had storage space underneath the mattress itself.  Everybody also had a small upright locker for storage of uniforms.  The overhead was full of pipes and wires running everywhere.  As soon as he'd finished stowing his gear, he exited out the door and started heading forward towards the bow (front) of the ship.

'Well, at least I won't have to worry about having that far to walk to go to chow anymore.'  Just outside of the S-2 division door was the outside serving line with the galley right behind the serving window.  Porter's rack was not more than 25 or 30 feet away from the entrance of his work and food.  As he walked forward, he was amazed by the amount of pipes, wires and lights that ran in the overhead. (the ceiling)  Most of these pipes were labeled; JP-5, steam, hot water, freshwater, etc.  He hadn't walked more than 25 yards down the corridor when it opened up into the cafeteria seating area.  Another 25 yards away, he spotted his friend Art Heinz walking towards him.

"Well, well, well, they'll let anyone on board this ship. Who else is onboard from our class, Porter?" Heinz asks.

'Well, well, well, hmmmmmm, that's an expression that my grandfather always said.'  "There's Sheridan, and Tomas who have followed us from boot camp.  Then there's Rick Thomas, not a bad guy but he's not real out going.  Dick Erickson has the rack right next to mine and Sheridan's is the bottom rack underneath me.  By the way, don't ever play pool for money with Erickson, he's a shark.  Jack Cardosia is also here someplace as well as Drew.  I don’t know him at all.  I haven't seen them yet but they said that they were going to the Kitty Hawk too.  Why aren't you in S-2 division, Heinz?"

"I've been assigned to the stewards division.  I'll be serving officers."

"Wheeeeeeee, that sounds kind of queer to me, Heinz."  Porter says making a gesture with his wrist as if it just went limp."

"I'll give you queer Porter, there's this guy in medical that they call Miss Kitty Hawk.  I'm sure he'll be glad to help you with that wrist problem of yours."

"I'm not going to touch that one, Heinz - too hot for me to handle."  Porter says rolling his eyes.  "This corridor sure is narrow Heinz," Porter says changing the subject.  "It's like walking hurdles every time we come to a door.  This gray paint everywhere isn't at all encouraging either."

"They call the bottom of the doorways knee knockers.  You have to be careful where you step.  There's construction going on in different parts of the ship.  They call the construction workers running around yard birds."

"I'm amazed by all the pipes and wires running everywhere in the overhead.  But what's up with all these extra wires running through the doorways?"  Porter's curious about how they close the doors with all the wires going through them.

"I guess it's to supply the outside contractors.  This is the forward galley and our berthing area is up here on the left, through this door."

S-4 division was laid out much like S-2 division.  It was mostly filled to the overhead (ceiling) with racks and lockers.  There was a small lounge with a TV hanging on the wall.  "Can this thing get local channels, Heinz?"

"Yes, they also have cameras that can be fed into the ships' audio visual system."

"Cool, have you done any exploring of the ship yet, Heinz?"

"Not much.  Just between here and S-2 division."

"You want to look around?"

"Sure"

The men wandered up to the hanger bay, which was one level up.  People were busy going from one place to another.  With some effort, they found their way up to the flight deck.  Porter was surprised that there weren't any planes or helicopters on board.  He assumed that they would come on board later.  Heinz and Porter walked around the flight deck and were amused at how long it took them.  They shared what they had done for the week that they were home.

After returning to S-2 division the men found that dinner was ready.  They got some dinner and then decided to change clothes and go to the on base EM club.  Getting on and off the ship was no problem any time as long you had your military ID with a CV-63 sticker on it.  The walk to the EM club was a long one and both men were thirsty by the time they got there.  The club was smaller than the one at NTC, but the beer was just as bad.  The band was pretty good.  They at least tried to play cover songs of bands Porter liked.

During one of the breaks the DJ decided to play a new song.  "This is the latest from 'The Village People.'  It's called YMCA.

Porter listened carefully to the lyrics.  'This band has to be gay!  They know about all the fun that goes on at the Y.'

After drinking the 3.2 beer for several hours, Porter and Heinz made their way back to the ship.  They decided to get together the next day and do the acid Porter had with him and go to Ocean Beach.

Sunday, June 25, 1978

The Acid had a greater effect on Heinz than it did on Porter.  Porter had been doing it every day for the last week.  The only thing scarier than the cab ride over the Coronado Bridge was the bus ride.  Porter had visions of the bus crashing over the guardrail that was only high enough to protect a car.  A bus this size would just flip right over.  It had taken 30 minutes to walk from the ship to the bus stop.  Then they had to wait about 30 minutes for the bus.  It took about 30 minutes to get down town and another 30 minutes for the Ocean beach bus to arrive.  Then it took another 30 minutes to get from down town to the beach.  It took them two and a half hours to get from the ship to beach.  Porter figured that under perfect conditions it would have taken at least an hour and a half to make the journey.

Porter and Heinz partied all day and had a good time.

Monday, June 26, 1978

After breakfast, Porter. along with all the other new sailors, went to orientation.  It was held in one of the flight briefing rooms where the pilots gathered before missions.  The day was filled with information on how to find your way on board such a big ship without getting lost, safety, and all the things that truly made the ship a floating city.  Barber Shops, snack shops, cigarette store, were just a few of the conveniences on board.  The base where the ship was docked had everything else you could possibly need.  The sailors were also instructed as to places on board that were restricted.  The weapons elevator was guarded with marines packing shotguns.

After orientation, Porter returned to S-2 division, ate dinner and went into the compartment lounge.  One of the men in the division approached Porter.  He was wearing a pair of shorts and a tee shirt so Porter assumed he wasn't working.  He stood six feet tall and had black hair with brown eyes and appeared to be in his 20's.  He squinted his eyes and looked Porter in the eye.  Porter squinted his eyes and looked back at him.  He looked down real fast to his hand with his eyes.  Porter looked down and saw he had a fist.  Slowly he opened his hand and Porter saw he was holding a pin joint (A very small marijuana cigarette.)  He gestured with his eyes for Porter to follow him, which he did.

He pulled Porter aside, "you're cool aren't you?"

"Yeah, I'm cool, you guys smoke on board ship?"

"If you know the right people and where to go.  Follow me."

They walked out the S-2 division door and into the bakery right across the hall. He locked the door behind him.  "I'm Mullens, and this is Wilson.  Wilson is a short timer. He gets out in two months.  I'm a short timer too.  I only have a year to go.  What's your name?"

"It's not two months, Mullins - it's 67 days and a wake up," Wilson said.

"My name is Porter, Bill Porter."

"Porter's cool Wilson, lets smoke this joint and get stoned."

'Get stoned?  What's he talking about!  With three of us smoking that pin joint we'll be lucky to get two hits a piece.  That's not enough to catch a buzz, let alone get stoned.' Porter thought.  Wilson opened up one of the vents in the overhead ventilation system and the air around them started flowing into the vent.  Porter had noticed that Wilson was a third class Petty Officer.  Mullens fired up the pin joint and handed it to Porter.  He took a lung full and passed it to Wilson.  Porter held the smoke in his lungs until the joint came around again hoping to at least catch a buzz.  Porter took a second deep hit and held it in.  Everything went black and Porter sat down on the floor.

"Where did you say you were from, boy?  What's the matter?  A little marijuana too much for you or what?"  Mullens said.

"You – have – more – want – to - buy."

"Even if we had more, it's too expensive."

"I - don't – understand – how - so good?"  Porter's mind struggled to make his mouth work.

"This is a little something we had left from our last trip overseas.  Thought we'd show you what you have to look forward too.  Welcome to the shitty kitty, Porter."

Porter started recovering from the head rush, "I didn't say where I'm from, I'm from Michigan and I can tell you we have nothing that good back home.  Two hits and I'm wasted, wow. I wish I could buy some of that!  There was no way I thought I'd catch a buzz off of that joint and now I'm stoned!"

"Just make sure you remember me sometime when you have something to smoke.  Don't be telling anyone about smoking in the bakery.  We don't need Wilson getting in trouble with only two months left."

"It's not two months, it's 67 days and a wake up, Mullens!"

'It would sure be cool to get a job here in the bakery.  But he's a third class petty officer.  It might take me years to get a good job like that.'  "I won't tell anyone and I do have some smoke if you want to smoke some later.  Are there other places to get high on board ship?"

"There are hundreds of places.  No one's up on the flight deck most of the time.  That's a good open place.  It's also easy to see someone coming from a long ways away." Mullens commented.

"Well guys, I need my bakeshop back.  Thanks for the buzz Mullens," said Wilson.

Porter thanked him too and was happy to be taken in by the older guys.  He went and found his buddy Art and they went up to the flight deck and smoked a couple of bowls.

"I tell you Heinz, the Navy has been like school up to his point.  You start out on the bottom and have to work your way up.  When we first started at boot camp we were on the bottom.  Eight weeks later we were the seniors.  Then we started A school and we were on the bottom again.  Then after graduation we were back on top.  Now we are on the bottom again.  We basically know nothing.  It sure felt good to have one of the older guys take me under his wing today.  My head felt great too.  It's like being a freshman in High School and a senior lets you hang out with him.  I felt the same way when you offered to help me shine my boots back in boot camp.  You're a great friend Art, I'm glad we have ended up on board the same ship.  All of this has to have a reason.  It's can't be just a coincidence."

"There is definitely something going on, Porter.  I don't know what it is but when you find out, I'm sure I'll be the first to know about it."

"This view is fantastic.  We must be like 100 feet off the water."  Porter and Heinz were standing on the rear fueling station located on the aft (back) port (left) side of the aircraft carrier.  Across the bay was downtown San Diego.  It was twilight and the city lights were starting to reflect off the bay.  Over the edge of the ship was steel netting designed to 'catch' things that might be falling overboard.  ‘I wonder if I could survive if I jumped.’

"What happens if you jump, Porter?"

"Don't do that Heinz, don't ask me the same question I was just thinking.  Unless I hit the water just right, I'd bounce.  Just like if I was to jump from this height onto the ground, I'd bounce.  If the impact doesn't kill you, the water will.  Even if you managed to hit the water just right and you don't get hurt, the water is only about 50 degrees.  Before you could swim to someplace where you could get out, you'll probably die of hypothermia.  I don't think you have to worry about sharks as that water looks far too nasty to support any life."

"Do you think the weather will ever change?"

"I don't know Heinz, everyday it's the same, 75 and sunny.  You know what the song says, 'it don't rain in California in the summertime!"

In a nutshell, this was the relationship between Heinz and Porter.  Heinz would ask Porter questions and Porter would come up with some BS answer.  Porter liked to talk and Heinz liked to hear his BS.  The two of them spent hours like this.  No one else ever played up to Porter in this way before.  Heinz sometimes asked questions that Porter really needed to answer.  Porter also watched WAY too many Marx Brothers movies as a kid because his sense of humor was classic Grocho Marx.  He'd play off words twisting their meaning.  Porter talked and Heinz listened well into the night.

After dinner the next day, Porter went into the lounge of the berthing area and found Mullens sitting at a table surrounded by most of the cooks that had been in Porter's class.  "Porter, get over here you need to see this too," Mullens said.  "Now you take one of these U.S. Government issue pens and take them apart.  You take a knife and cut in half the plastic on the top part of the pen where it screws into the bottom about a half an inch, like this."

Mullens used his pocketknife to whittle the plastic away from the pen container.  "Then you take the round metal part in the middle and squeeze one side until it's about as wide as the spring.  Then push the spring into the round metal center.  You then place the round metal piece and spring back into the opening you cut out like this."

'He's making a pipe; he's making a pipe out of a pen.' Porter thought.

"Then you use tape to hold it in.  The first placement of the tape is the most important. I usually cut the tape in half in order to handle it better."

"Doesn't the plastic melt if you smoke out of it?" Thomas asked.

"Not if you don't smoke too much too fast."

"How long does it last?" Sheridan asked.

"It's good for about an ounce.  Not that it matters; the government has millions of these lying around.  They are easy to hide.  Most of us have one or two hidden in the overhead.  If someone finds it, you just tell ’em you don't know where it came from.  If you get caught with one, you'll get busted twice.  They'll get you for carrying drug paraphernalia and for destroying government property."

These pens were lying all over the compartment.  Porter picked one up and made one the same way Mullens had.  Porter received encouragement from Mullens and soon had fashioned a pen pipe much like the one Mullens had.  "You'll find lots of guys use these to get high sitting in their rack if they're on top.  You have to always keep an eye out for the Flips" (a slang name for the Filipino Petty Officers that shared the berthing compartment with them.)

*     *     *     *     *     *

A tall black man walked up to Porter and introduced himself, "hi, my name is Willie Poole."

"Hi, Bill Porter, nice to meet you."

"I noticed when you came in you had a small TV with you, I wonder if I can borrow it from you sometime. I really like going over to the park with a six-pack of beer and a joint and kick back and watch some TV."

"No problem, I hardly ever use it anyway, if it'll help bring some entertainment to you, you are more than welcome to borrow it."

"I only have a month left to go in the Navy and then I get out, how long do you have?"

"My commitment with the Navy will be over January 11, 1982."

"Rocks don't live that long.  Anyway, I'll come see you when I'm ready to borrow your TV."

"No problem, you know where to find me." Over the past month, Porter had seen Bernie, who had ripped him off down at Ocean Beach, several times. Bernie had led Porter to believe that he would get his money back. Other people he talked to about Bernie told him that his money was gone forever. Then there was Charles Green.  These weren't the only two people that had ripped Porter off the first three months he'd been in San Diego.  The problem is Porter still trusted people.  Sometimes people have to learn things the hard way.  Porter never picked up on mistakes others made and seldom picked up on mistakes he made himself.  This doomed him to repeat the mistakes over and over again.

Sometime later that that evening another black man approached Porter.  "Hi my name is Bobby Brown.  I'm from Phoenix." He said, extending his hand for Porter to shake.

"Nice to meet you too," replied Porter.

"Mullens says you're cool, I have something to show you."

Porter followed Bobby Brown to the back of the compartment.  Then he went all the way in the corner to the top rack and climbed in.  "Come on up, Bill, there's plenty of room."

Porter climbed into the top bunk along with Bobby Brown.  There was enough room for the men to sit down with their heads resting on the overhead.  They had to stoop over a little bit but it wasn't too uncomfortable.  Bobby Brown produced a one-hit pipe and some marijuana.  Bobby lit the pipe and took a hit into his lungs, he held as long as he could and then blew the smoke into a towel.  He then handed the pipe, lighter, and towel to Porter.  They repeated this several times until both men were feeling pretty good.

"You see, as long as you're careful," said Bobby "and take a low-profile, you can get high in the compartments.  You smoke cigarettes don't you Porter?"

"Yes I do."

"It's probably a pretty good idea if you light up a cigarette now.  You're in the top bunk too, it's easy for you to be able to get high but make sure that you have a cigarette also."

"Bobby, how does a man get his laundry done around here?" Porter asked.

"They do have a laundry service onboard ship.  Any clothes you put in the onboard laundry system you'll probably lose.  Your best bet is to do your laundry on base.  The Laundromat is 25 cents a load and located about three quarters of a mile away, next to the recreation center."   This was bad news for Porter. He was so busy drinking and doing drugs, that finding time to do laundry wasn't a possibility.  He only found time to shower once every other day.  At least he'd have clean sheets on his rack as they were supplied daily and could be changed at any time.

Bobby Brown and Porter spent the next hour talking and getting to know each other.

During that first week Porter adjusted to onboard life.  He learned the rules and some of the regulations as well as which ones were often broken.  The aircraft carrier was infested with cockroaches.  Spray bottles with oven cleaner were often carried around to kill them on the spot.  In a space not more than 1000 square feet, 80 men made their home.  Porter's living space consisted of a six foot by three foot by two foot space.  He had his own private mini fluorescent lamp that could be used for reading.

After orientation, Porter was assigned to the port watch of the aft galley.  In charge of the aft galley was first class Petty Officer Mirallas.  When he asked Porter what he'd like to do in the galley, Porter explained he'd been a short order cook.  He asked to be either a grill cook or a fryer.  He became a grill cook.

Porter's day started out by getting shaken awake by the night shift at 0500 hrs in the morning.  By 0530 hrs Porter was cooking eggs.  Mess cooks had cracked all the eggs and placed them in bowls.  Mess cooks were the cook's assistants and came from every division of the ship.  The cooks all call them mess cranks.  Everybody on board ship had to do duty on the mess decks.  Porter would throw the eggs on the grill and let them cook.  His grill was two by six feet and he had most of it covered with eggs cooking.  He would go down the line and ask everybody what kind of eggs they wanted and then find eggs that were cooked appropriately to give to them.  It took a certain amount of talent to do this without wasting too many eggs.  Porter had a natural talent for this.  He cooked as fast as his body would move until about seven o'clock, when he was relieved for a 15-minute cigarette break.  Then he returned to cooking the rest of breakfast.

After everyone else had eaten, it was then time for the cooks to eat breakfast. After that, Porter went back to the galley and started preparing for lunch. The rest of his day consisted of production grill cooking. Instead of having one - 2 by 6' grill, he had two - 2 by 6' grills to manage. If lunch was pork chops, he would lay frozen pork chops across both grills.  By the time he'd finish that, the first ones were ready to flip.  After years of short order cooking, Porter had learned to use both arms and could flip anything using both arms at the same time.  So he worked his way down the grill flipping six or seven pork chops at a time with both arms.  By the time he got to the end of both grills they were ready to be taken off on the other side.  If the dinner entrée was liver and onions, Porter would prepare those the same way.  During the actual meal periods Porter prepared hamburgers, grilled ham and cheese, and other grill items that sailors would have prepared fresh for them.

Porter and Heinz ended up with different work schedules.  Towards the end of Porter's first week in the galley he was able to get together with Heinz.  They decided to explore Coronado Island.  "Working in the galley is hard work, Heinz. I try to work just as hard as I'm capable of. Up to this point, I have been left alone, which is fine by me.  What's it like working over at the officer's galley?"

"Its easy duty Porter, all I do is stand around all day.  It's interesting though.  I listen to the officers telling stories all day long.  However, working as a Stewart, I still have to spend time as a mess crank. (Cook)"

"I bought a new lock today, Heinz.  It's a magnet lock.  It works by magnets that are embedded in the key.  I bought it in the onboard store.  It's not a bad little store.  It seems to have everything we need.  There's this guy named Rocky in our division that's a bodybuilder.  He's from New York City and reminds me of that movie Rocky.  He says he's going to be Mr. Universe in 1984. He goes up to the gym and works out every day with the barbells."

"I can't wait until the cigarette store opens, Porter.  It only opens when the ship is out at sea and sells duty-free cigarettes.  They sell cigarettes for $2.50 a carton.  You can only buy two cartons of cigarettes at a time, they're afraid people will be selling them on the black market when we pull back into shore."

"Mullens said something about a park that overlooks the Bay.  It must be this way somewhere," Porter said, pointing towards a street.

The men found the park and both felt it was a great place to hang out.  Then they walked to the other side of the Island and checked out the beach on the ocean.  It had a high concrete seawall made up of broken concrete.  Neither man was that impressed with the beach.  They both preferred Ocean Beach much better.  They walked south along the beach and finally came up to a massive hotel.  "Heinz, I don't believe it, that's the hotel from the album cover, Hotel California.  My God they've stationed us in hell."

* * * * *

Porter was cooking grill in the galley when a third class Petty Officer stopped and watched him.  Unlike most of the Petty officers in Bill's division, this man wasn't Filipino - he was Mexican.  He watched Porter for a while and finally spoke up.  "I like the way you work.  My name is Tony Juarez.  Tell the senior Chief that you want to come work for me in the forward galley."

"I can do that?"

"Absolutely, if they have a good worker they will do anything to keep him motivated."

"In that case, I want to work in the bakery."

"You won't like the bakery; you have to work hard in the bakery."

"But as you just pointed out, I like working hard.  Anyway, its nice meeting you, Tony Juarez, I have to get back to work."

Later that afternoon Porter was preparing stir-fried rice.  Senior Chief Petty Officer Hicks came up to Porter and said, "Porter, I've been cooking for years and years, I know how Americans like their food.  You need to put three bottles of soy sauce for every batch of fried rice."

"Yes, Senior Chief no problem.  I'll take care of it."

A few minutes later Senior Chief Petty Officer Andalais came up to Porter.  "Porter, I've been cooking for Americans for many many years and I know how Americans like their food, only put one bottle of soy sauce for every batch you cook."

Porter pretty much analyzed everything around him.  This, however, created a conflict as he was given different orders by two different Senior Chief Petty officers.  For clarification, he went to First Class Petty Officer Mirallas.  "Petty Officer Mirallas, I have a problem.  One senior Chief Petty Officer told me to use three bottles of soy sauce, and another senior Chief Petty Officer told me to use one bottle of soy sauce!  What should I do?"

"When one Senior Chief is looking, do it his way and when the other Senior Chief is looking, do it his way," replied Mirallas.

Porter reasoned that this was poor advice and came to the conclusion that he needed to use two bottles of soy sauce in every batch he made.

Porter fell into a routine in the galley.  He'd work very hard during the day and usually go out at night and find a way to become inebriated.  Then, when he got time off, he'd want to sleep for two days.  One day while working in the galley, Porter went into the compartment to take a break.  He saw Mullens sitting with two new sailors teaching them how to make pen pipes.  'I guess Mullens' true calling is to introduce new sailors to the world of onboard drug usage.' Porter was highly impressed with the two new sailors.  Perhaps impressed isn't the right word, infatuated might be a better description.  Not many men excited Porter's sexual level.  However, both of these new sailors were quite attractive to him. 'I'm going to have to make friends with these sailors.'

Porter went over the table and sat down with Mullens and the two new sailors.  "Hey Porter, kick-out." (Kick-out meant that Mullens wanted Porter to get him high.  Mullens never asked Porter to kick-out when he didn't have any marijuana.  It's like he knew when Porter was holding.)

"I have a little bit of smoke Mullens, but that's not going to be enough to get us high.  After I get off work we can go out someplace and get some beers or something."

"That sounds like a plan, Porter. But we have to bring my friend, Escondila along too.  These two new guys are Magoldrick and Mackey."

"My name's Bill Porter.  Nice to meet you." Porter said, shaking Mackey's hand.

"My name's Curt Mackey, and this is Ken Magoldrick - we went to A school together."

"You see guys, it's like this," Mullens continued.  "The Navy wanted to put all the worst sailors in the Navy on one ship, so they chose the Kitty Hawk.  That way, the rest of the Navy is pretty much squared away because all the real nuts are here.

Curt Mackey was several inches taller than Bill with light brown hair.  He had fair skin with spotty acne.  This didn't bother Porter much as he had spotty acne over most of his body.  The high temperature conditions, working in the galley, wearing clothes for more than one day, and not taking a shower every day didn't help his acne problem much.  Ken Magoldrick had blond hair, glasses, and not much in the way of muscular development.  Curt, on the other hand, had broad shoulders and round biceps.  Porter found both men attractive and was already making plans to seduce them.  He'd made several trips downtown on his own looking for some action but found that the only ones willing to experiment were old enough to be his grandfather.

That evening, Porter went out with Mullens and Escondila.  They smoked what little pot Porter had, drank some beers, and some cough syrup.  Porter thought it was a cheap buzz but he felt pretty good.  They partied in a park across from the police station.  They figured it was probably the safest place in town.  After a while they ended up on the top of an enclosed slide.  The area was square and had several slides going off in different directions at 90° angles to each other.   After a while Mullens took off someplace.  Escondila came out to Porter, saying that he was homosexual.  Escondila was over 6 feet tall and about 24 years old.  He was also extremely hairy which was a huge turnoff for Porter.  He had absolutely no interest in having sex with this man.  "If that's the way you feel Rick, that's fine with me.  I promise I won't tell anyone back on the ship.  I'm just not interested," Porter told Escondila.  At that point, Porter decided it was time to go back to the ship.

Porter continued to work hard in the galley, make friends, and stay out of trouble.  Willy Poole did get out of the Navy.  With his TV, he became even closer with his friends - Art, Mullens, and Bobby Brown, while making friends with Curt Mackey and Ken Magoldrick.  This was a peaceful time for Porter; it was a calm before the storm.

Thursday, July 13, 1978

Porter left the Kitty Hawk at 0900 hrs and went to the bank of pay telephones on the dock.  He dialed zero and connected with the operator. It was his sister's birthday and he wanted to wish his sister a happy birthday.  The operator connected with his home number and Porter's sister answered the phone.  When she was told who was calling and that it was a collect call she stopped talking to the operator and talked to Porter's Dad.   Porter flatly heard him tell his sister that she should refuse the phone call. When his sister came back to the operator Porter said Happy Birthday so she could hear him and hung up.

'I can't believer my father would do that. He's refusing to talk to me.  Am I really that bad?  If I could just talk this through with Heinz, he'd know what to say.  He's off today but I go on duty at 1200 hrs.  I have to get off this afternoon. I know Heinz will help decide how to handle this! But who do I talk to about getting the day off?  I think I'll talk to the moral officer Scrimenger.'

Porter found Scrimenger in his office.  He explained the situation to him showing lots of emotion. Porter didn't have to act, as he really was upset.  The idea that the most important relationship in his life was almost beyond repair was just too much for him to handle.  After explaining how he felt, Scrimenger said, "did any of the men you went to A school with talk about masturbation with you?"

'What the hell does that have to do with what I just said?'  "No, I've never known any man to talk openly about masturbation."

"Do you masturbate?"

"That's none of you business!" Porter replied getting a little loud.

"Well I only have one testicle. I'm married and I often wonder how sailors like yourself feel about sex these days."

'Way too much information, this guy wants in my pants for sure.  He wants to know how sailors feel about sex now a days!'  "Look, all I want to talk about is - if it's possible to get the afternoon off"

“You'll have to talk to your Senior Chief about that."

"Thank you very much," Porter said cutting of Scrimenger in mid sentence.

"If I can just get the afternoon off I'm sure I can work this out, Chief."

"Okay,  Porter, I'll let you have the afternoon off, but if you're not back in time tomorrow morning you'll be in big trouble."

"I'll be here chief, I promise."

Porter and Heinz talked things out and Porter came to the conclusion that a bunch of little things had brought his father to the point where he didn't want to talk to him.  One of the big things was his calling collect.  He decided to buy a roll of quarters to avoid problems in the future.