Liberty Boats

An aircraft carrier is rarely allowed to park at the pier like most ships. We had to anchor way out in the bay, sometimes a mile or two away from land. We’d ride in liberty boats when we wanted to go ashore.

I forget how long a liberty boat is and I forget how wide. I know that it fits about a hundred enlisted men shoulder to shoulder and most of you have to be standing up. Sometimes it has a pull-over top that only covers some of the guys. It has a motor. It is a lot smaller than all the other ships and boats in the bay around you.

We would have to stand in line for an hour or so while waiting for a chance to get on a liberty boat. That wasn’t so bad really because we had to stand in line for many things in the navy. Shoot, I’ve even stood in line just to find out what line we need to be standing in.

The boat would pull up next to our carrier and we’d have to climb down a ladder to get on board. Then we’d ride the waves (we often parked close to open sea where the swells were interesting) across the harbor to some place that was our designated landing point. We’d all climb out of the boat and a little over a hundred sailors would head for the city and the booze and the women and the food, all at once. A few minutes later another liberty boat would arrive with another hundred or so.

We’d spend the day eating strange food and drinking strange booze and then we’d gather back at the liberty boat embarking point for the ride back to the ship. My first time ever to ride a liberty boat was in a little place on the Atlantic coast of Spain (I forget the name of the place – Ceuta I think). The ride to land was just fine. I stayed in Spain as long as I was allowed and ate a bunch and drank a bunch and then caught the last boat back to the ship. Since it was the final ride back in, they packed us in there pretty tight. I was standing and so was everyone else around me. We were literally packed in there like vertical sardines. The boat started doing things that boats do. It started rocking. As we got closer to the ship the waves got higher and the rocking of the boat got more pronounced. Well of course, the guy standing right in front of me, the guy whose face was only inches from my own, threw up on me. He just looked at me and his cheeks got full and he squirted Spain-juice all down my shirt and all over my nice (and only) pants. There wasn’t a thing I could do about it. I couldn’t even move. I did almost return the favor though.

Later we arrived at the ship. Here I was covered with sailor vomit and not feeling real well myself and I was standing in this very small boat on the open sea which was rising up and down with the swells. Our little boat would rise up with a swell and then CLOMB against the bulkhead of the carrier and then would go down with the swell and roll back out away from the ship again. We were jumping aboard the carrier one at a time and those behind you wouldn’t let you hesitate very much. You had to look closely at the movements and judge where and when the time was right and then go. If you missed you’d be in the ocean. You could even get CLOMBED up against the side of the ship.

Drunk as I was during most of my stay in the navy, I’m very surprised I was able to continually get on board. Then when you finally did get aboard the masters at arms (cops of the ship) would throw you up against the wall and frisk you for drugs. (The freedom we were protecting was never meant for us). That first night scared me so much that I thought I would never do it again. But of course, after three years five months and six days, I got pretty good at it. I never did throw up on anyone either.