I never really had much interest in preparing food until I joined the Navy. Up until then, there 
was always my mother's cooking, or, my younger brother liked to tinker in the kitchen, and came up with a few good things to satisfy us whenever we had the munchies. I remember little personal pizzas. The first thing I recall that sparked my interest in cooking was while stationed at 32nd Street Naval Station in San Diego, attending Nuclear Components Welding School. My buddy Phil and I drove out to Calexico, CA, just west of Yuma, to fish for catfish in the All-American Canal. We spent 3 days out there, lying in the shade underneath my pick-up truck in the day (that was the only shade), and fishing in the evening and into the night. We caught some really nice catfish. Even back then, about 1990, we were approached by Border Patrol / Local Police and questioned why we were there. Right across the canal was Mexico. We took the fish back to base, and Tonya, a girl that worked security in our barracks offered to cook them up for us. Tonya was from around Baton Rouge, LA. We felt our fish were safe with her. She did a great job, and, as simple now as frying fish seems, I felt like "man, I'd like to be able to do that".
From San Diego, after a cross-country road trip with my older brother Mike, I was off to New London, CT and my first ship, the USS Fulton AS-11 ( http://www.ussfulton.org/ ). At that time, the Fulton was the oldest ship in the fleet, and being prepared for decommission. I can't describe my amazement when I first walked on board and saw wooden weather-decks. I was very disappointed there. However, the best part was standing on top of a submarine for the first time, and feeling the presence of my grandfather, Arthur Sides, retired Navy Chief Petty Officer Gunners Mate (submarines) and WWII Veteran. He died when I was 15. I had just spent all this time in welding school, and was very anxious to start learning my trade. There was literally no work to be done, and I was assigned to berthing compartment detail. I jumped the chain-of-command, wrote one of my Congressman, and requested a transfer to anywhere where I could go to work. They accommodated me toot-sweet, after a thorough ass-chewing from the Captain. I claimed innocence and ignorance, but secretly was thrilled I was leaving town. I had met all the guys from the weld-shop, including the 1rst Class Petty Officer running the shop, Jimmy Doolittle. The first time I met Jimmy, I was at another shipmate's apartment, right after he and his wife had their first baby. Because they were both busy, when there was a knock at the door they asked me to get it. I opened the door to someone I didn't know. He looked at me, I looked at him, and he said "Oh, sorry, I guess I've got the wrong place." He never returned. That was Jimmy - and he had been to their apartment before on several occasions!! I never saw him again........at least, in Connecticut.
was always my mother's cooking, or, my younger brother liked to tinker in the kitchen, and came up with a few good things to satisfy us whenever we had the munchies. I remember little personal pizzas. The first thing I recall that sparked my interest in cooking was while stationed at 32nd Street Naval Station in San Diego, attending Nuclear Components Welding School. My buddy Phil and I drove out to Calexico, CA, just west of Yuma, to fish for catfish in the All-American Canal. We spent 3 days out there, lying in the shade underneath my pick-up truck in the day (that was the only shade), and fishing in the evening and into the night. We caught some really nice catfish. Even back then, about 1990, we were approached by Border Patrol / Local Police and questioned why we were there. Right across the canal was Mexico. We took the fish back to base, and Tonya, a girl that worked security in our barracks offered to cook them up for us. Tonya was from around Baton Rouge, LA. We felt our fish were safe with her. She did a great job, and, as simple now as frying fish seems, I felt like "man, I'd like to be able to do that".
From San Diego, after a cross-country road trip with my older brother Mike, I was off to New London, CT and my first ship, the USS Fulton AS-11 ( http://www.ussfulton.org/ ). At that time, the Fulton was the oldest ship in the fleet, and being prepared for decommission. I can't describe my amazement when I first walked on board and saw wooden weather-decks. I was very disappointed there. However, the best part was standing on top of a submarine for the first time, and feeling the presence of my grandfather, Arthur Sides, retired Navy Chief Petty Officer Gunners Mate (submarines) and WWII Veteran. He died when I was 15. I had just spent all this time in welding school, and was very anxious to start learning my trade. There was literally no work to be done, and I was assigned to berthing compartment detail. I jumped the chain-of-command, wrote one of my Congressman, and requested a transfer to anywhere where I could go to work. They accommodated me toot-sweet, after a thorough ass-chewing from the Captain. I claimed innocence and ignorance, but secretly was thrilled I was leaving town. I had met all the guys from the weld-shop, including the 1rst Class Petty Officer running the shop, Jimmy Doolittle. The first time I met Jimmy, I was at another shipmate's apartment, right after he and his wife had their first baby. Because they were both busy, when there was a knock at the door they asked me to get it. I opened the door to someone I didn't know. He looked at me, I looked at him, and he said "Oh, sorry, I guess I've got the wrong place." He never returned. That was Jimmy - and he had been to their apartment before on several occasions!! I never saw him again........at least, in Connecticut.
So here I go. I'm off to La Maddalena, Italy, the USS Orion AS-18, and the only submarine repair facility in the Mediterranean - - - - located just off the northern coast of Sardinia ( if you google La Maddalena, Italy, you can see some great pictures.If you google maps of LaMadd, you'll also see Isola Santo Stefano - the island of Santo Stefano. The Orion was actually homeported on the east side of this island. The island was shared with a barracks of Italian army - and that's it. There was a bar/restaurant we called The Shmo (I don't know why), the Italian's barracks, a U.S. Navy barracks, a gym, and a large supply storage area. That's all. In order to go anywhere or do anything not involved with one of those 5 areas, you had to catch a Navy-run 'liberty' boat that regularly made the rounds to Palau in Sardinia, or the island of LaMadd. Then, typically, you walked everywhere you went - including about a 2-3 mile walk to the Navy Commissary. I swore that, upon returning home to the States, I'd never complain again about driving distances.
(here's a picture I found online, taken in 1985, of both the Fulton and the Orion moored at Santo Stefano. The island in the background is La Maddalena.)
A side note about Palau. There's a James Bond movie, I'm not sure which one, where a car drives off a pier, into the water, and turns into a type of submarine. That is the very pier our liberty boat would pull up to for us to depart in Palau! In fact, as the car, in the movie, drives off the pier, the island in the background is Santo Stefano! The USS Orion, was home-ported on the other side. Pretty cool, huh?
There in LaMadd you can walk through the piazza from the boat landing, and down to the marina where all the local fisherman's boats
are moored. Right there is an open stand where they make what has to be the world's best calzones. Made and baked in a wood-fired brick oven right in front of you. I wonder if I'll ever taste that ham, or prosciutto, they used again in my life. Really, there's no sense in trying to describe it. This is when and where the hook was set. I've been amazed by these ovens and this form of baking ever since.First Class Petty Officer Bill Brown, a great guy, ran the weld shop on the Orion. Not too long after I arrived, he and his family were being transferred back home. Our new boss was arriving - - You guessed it, Jimmy Doolittle. This guy is a free spirit if there ever was one......he's hilarious, and a lot of fun to be around. Frank Zappa is probably his favorite music 'hero'. But don't get me wrong - both Bill Brown and Jim Doolittle have got to be 2 of the most educated individuals known to man when it comes to securing the lives of submariners if it falls on them to do the repairs on a boat. ( a blown steam pipe, or a fault in the piping in a reactor plant, and those sailors are dead). These guys had every ounce of respect from the rest of us that worked for them. However - ha! - Jim arrives from the States, I think it's a 6 hour flight - maybe more, takes his first liberty boat ride around the islands, steps off the boat onto the pier on Santo Stefano, makes the wrong turn and walks off the pier into the Mediterranean. That's the first news we got of our new boss. When we were first introduced, we stood there looking at each other, and I'm certain there was a moment of simultaneous recollection between us, knowing somewhere we had seen each other before. That's my favorite Jim Doolittle story.
When being discharged from the service after serving overseas, you must come back to the States. Otherwise, I believe I would've stayed in Italy for awhile. It's one of my goals in life to get back there one day. I was discharged i
n March of '93, and met my eventual wife in May of that year. Around that time I also began my first home baking of breads. Two years later Debbie and I were married at The King and Queens Seat in Rocks State Park, Harford County, MD. (does anyone like the mullet? ha!)
More to come.......
No comments:
Post a Comment