It is important for you, dear reader, to understand that this book is in no way intended to discredit ANY member of the United States military. I have the utmost respect for every person who serves our country and would never do or say anything to short-change them for the sacrifices they, and their families, make every day. Also, these stories are all 100% true (to the best of my recollection…I am getting old) and are written here for amusement purposes only. 

            Also, “Puddle Pirate” is a somewhat derogatory phrase used to identify members of the U.S. Coast Guard…often referred to “playing sailors” by the U.S. Navy. Every branch has their own nickname…squids (Navy), jarheads (Marine Corps), grunts (Army), etc. We all use these phrases/terms jokingly and they’re not intended to offend.

Have you ever played a game of touch football on a frozen sea in Antarctica, only to have that game interrupted by a colony of penguins? Have you ever traded t-shirts and flip-flops for hand-made mats, hats and wood carvings with the residents of a tiny island in the south Pacific? How about discovering 1100 pounds of pure, uncut Columbian cocaine on a “fishing boat” in the Caribbean Sea? Well, I was fortunate enough to experience all those things during my adventures in the Coast Guard.  

            This book is just a bunch of funny stories more than it is an autobiography. It has more to do with my experiences in the Coast Guard and less to do with me. I will tell you a little about myself, though…just enough so that you understand where I come from.

            I was born in a small town in North Carolina in the early seventies. I was the second of three kids and my family comes from a long line of blue-collar workers with little military service. I made average grades in high school and honestly had no idea what I was going to do once I graduated. I initially made up my mind to join the U.S. Navy, but my family opened my eyes to an often-overlooked service called the U.S. Coast Guard. 

            Before we get into the stories, I need to make one thing clear…the U.S. Coast Guard is one of the SIX branches of the United States military. Title 14 of the U.S. Code says the Coast Guard is “a military service and a branch of the armed forces of the United States at all times”. I’ve been told by AT LEAST a hundred people that the Coast Guard isn’t “really a branch of the military”. I’ve spent more time than I care to remember trying to convince people that the Coast Guard really is one of the armed services.

            Now that we have that out of the way….let’s have some fun!

For Coast Guard ships stationed in northern California, the patrol area was (and continues to be, as far as I know) primarily the Aleutian Islands of Alaska and the Bering Sea. I was fortunate enough to get assigned to one of these cutters early in my career. At the beginning of one of our 60-day patrols, we sailed from San Francisco and headed to Kodiak, Alaska where we would take on food and fuel and continue to our assigned patrol area. During the first few days of the trip to Kodiak, we learned of a large storm that would eventually cross our path. To stay on schedule, the command decided to “weather the storm” and not divert from our intended course. Within a few days, the seas rose to roughly 30-feet in height. Maintaining a normal daily schedule in 30-foot seas was pretty much impossible. As the ship rolled and pitched, everything that wasn’t tied or taped down went flying. The cooks simply set out loaves of bread with sliced ham and cheese for every meal since cooking was not only impossible, but also downright dangerous (imagine a pot of boiling water flying across the galley each time the ship rolled one way or the other). Typically, the workday consisted of cleaning, painting and general maintenance during these open ocean transits. That was not the case during this trip. The ship would pitch and roll so much that you had wedge yourself into your rack to keep from rolling out of it. This continued for about three days.

            During the third day of this incredible weather, I had just been relieved from my watch position on the bridge and headed for my berthing space to “hit the rack”. A couple of hours later I heard a very loud boom and I could feel the ship come to almost a complete stop and then start to shake violently as she started to regain her original speed. I jumped out of my rack and nearly landed on a shipmate who had been thrown from his rack with his mattress and pillow. He looked dazed. I felt like something was wrong and all I could think to do was to head to the bridge in case there was some sort of an emergency. 

            A couple of minutes later I reached the bridge and heard all sorts of alarms going off. As I stepped through the door to the bridge, I tromped right into several inches of foamy seawater sloshing back and forth on the bridge deck. 

            “What the hell happened?”, was all I could manage to say.

            “Wave….big one”, was the only response I understood from the bridge officer. 

            After helping clear out all the water on the bridge deck, I was told a wave had developed off the bow of the ship, as they had been doing regularly for the past several days. However, this one wave developed and continued to grow to the point where the bridge crew (situated roughly 50-feet about the surface of the water) had to LOOK UP to see the top of the wave. Then the wave crested and crashed down on the ship. A deluge of seawater had rushed through the bridge door and windows resulting in the mess we had to clean up. I also learned that the bridge officer had lost his balance when the wave slammed into the ship, fell down and was nearly washed out the bridge door. If one of the other bridge watchstanders hadn’t been thinking quickly, we may have lost that bridge officer over the side.

            Several days later, we arrived in Kodiak and an investigation was conducted to recount the events that led up to the wave. It was estimated that just over $250,000 in damage was done to the ship. Ladders on the outside of the ship had been torn away, the ship’s bell was lost overboard, emergency equipment stored (and heavily secured) on the outside of the ship was missing and one of the ship’s small boats was all but demolished. 

(Top: an exterior water-tight door that was blown off it’s hinges by “The Wave”; bottom: the ladder that was located directly behind the door and was nearly destroyed when the door slammed into it)

            During the course of the investigation, one of the bridge watchstanders (Seaman George Brown) was asked to provide a statement from his vantage point on the bridge. Here’s what he wrote: “The sea churned in angry upheavals; it was like a boiling cauldron of tormented souls. I am Seaman George Brown from the Coast Guard Cutter BOUTWELL.  I was dutifully standing the lookout segment of our bridge watch rotation, along with the qualified Officer Of the Deck, Mr. Murphy, the break-in Ensign McCreary, Boatswain’s Mate Of The Watch, Petty Officer Wachal, helmsman Seaman Murray and the messenger Seaman Apprentice Stabile, and engrossed as always in her navigational charts Quartermaster Of The Watch, Petty Officer Flowers.  Our ragtag group of sea weary sailors were joined moments before the unspeakable Machinery Technician First Class Hylton.

            We were steering course 300, which positioned the ship in such a way as to minimize pitching and rolling of the ship.  This made the waves hit us at about 310 degrees relative.  The waves averaged 25 feet, which gave us spectacular intermittent bow spray on the bridge windshield.

            At about 3:05 PM, a freak 40 ft wave appeared from the depths about 400 yards off our port bow.  Mr. Murphy and I took notice of it but thought it would, at most create the biggest spray of the day.  At 200 yards the wave took on another hideous form.  It rose another 20 ft and began to fold over on itself.  It was like watching the beginning of the old TV show Hawaii 50 from the inside of the TV.  Everyone froze with the exception of Petty Officer Hylton, who was taking pictures on the starboard bridge wing and Petty Officer Flowers who was busy calculating synoptic weather or some other arduous navigation task.  The wave was so tall that I had to bend over from my vantage point to see the crest of the wave.  Seconds before the wave hit the bridge, Mr. Murphy, Ms. McCreary, Petty Officer Wachal, Seaman Apprentice Stabile, Seaman Murray and I hit the deck.  The bridge went dark and the air was filled with the sound of 10 locomotives rolling across the bridge windshields.  The ship rolled hard to its starboard side.  Mr. Murphy lost his grip on the console base, which he was holding.  I, with no concern for my life put my foot within his grasp.  He grabbed it before he slid through Death’s door.  The ship stayed in that position for what seemed to be an eternity.  My arms began to ache from the extra weight of the Officer of the Deck, but I held fast.  The ship lurched back to its normal position.  A 3 ft wall of seawater rushed through the starboard bridge wing door.  Everyone stood up frozen from fear, cold water and freezing air.  We stood there silent as numerous alarms sounded.” (Seaman George Brown, U.S. Coast Guard).

            After the investigation concluded and we had completed all the repairs necessary to make the ship safe for our mission, we departed from Kodiak and commenced our patrol in the Bering Sea. Fortunately, the rest of that patrol was fairly uneventful.         

(Top: the spot where the ship’s bell, weighing over 100 pounds, was hanging before it was washed overboard; bottom: a communications antenna crushed by “The Wave”)