Crossing The Line Ceremony

Where to start? I’m sure one of you replied to that statement with, “Why not at the beginning?” We are currently making our way up along India’s western coast and the seas have been as calm as I could have hoped, begged, pleaded and prayed for. I have had a few days to think about what occurred on October 20th – other than my brother’s 24th birthday – and I think I have finally been able to put it all into context. I think that I should start off by explaining what the “Crossing The Line Ceremony” actually is. It has been a long standing Naval Tradition to celebrate a ship’s crossing the Equator with all kinds of hilarity, and our ship was no exception. There are two types of sailors; the Shellbacks and the Tadpoles. The Shellbacks are any sailor who has previously “Crossed the Line” and has the laminated, stamped wallet sized card to prove it. And a Tadpole is any dirty, slimy, sailor who is an “Equator Virgin,” so to speak. The Shellbacks are responsible to conduct the ceremony in order to initiate the Tadpoles into King Neptune’s Realm. The oldest Shellback dresses up as King Neptune, some male Shellback’s dress up as Mermaids, another Shellback dresses up as Davey Jones, and there are also Shellbacks to play the roles of the Judge, the Herald, the Doctors, the Barbers, and the Enforcers. This motley crew manages to terrorize, for lack of a better term, the Tadpoles for a 24-hour period. A play is acted out on the Focsle with all the Shellbacks in costume the night before. It basically just sets the stage for what the Tadpoles can expect to encounter the following day. The Tadpoles are then drenched to the bone as the pre-wet system is activated (basically sprinkler heads on the upper decks of the ship). A few fellow tadpoles and myself decided to fight back and managed to charge one of the fire hoses on the Focsle and spray down some unfortunate Shellbacks on the Bridge. It was all rather entertaining… I’ve got some photos. The evening then got a little out of hand and the “line” was definitely “crossed” as the Tadpoles and Shellbacks got into a condiment war in the flats (hallways). 3 Deck was covered in BBQ sauce, mustard, syrup and Ketchup – I’m waiting for them to start complaining that it’s pancake morning and there isn’t any syrup! I was fortunate to have been writing my last Blog entry when to food fight broke out. There were a few injuries. Our head cook fell down a ladder due to the slippery side effect of condiments under foot, an Officer broker her thumb, one of the guys got a bloody nose, and one of my friends from the Electrical department suffered a deep gash in his forearm when some Tadpoles tried to pull him into the Cave (our lounge) through an escape hatch – he received 4 stitches. But morning broke and with it came the actual Ceremony. All us Tadpoles were herded into the Cave for our “Breakfast” which consisted of an assortment of what we were assured were all edible, although cold and crazy coloured “food.” There were red spaghetti noodles with green scrambled eggs with onions, green, cold, boiled bacon, cold, boiled pork sausage, grey/blue oatmeal with horseradish and kippers (small fish) all doused in olive oil, with cold, black coffee to wash it all down. Let’s just say that it did a number on the digestive system, provided you were able to keep it down. We then had to show our empty plate before we could leave. I managed to pull a 5-year-old move, and just push it all around on my plate and out-wait them… I managed to negotiate to eat a couple of noodles and drink the coffee as a sign of good faith. We all then assembled on the Flight Deck for the arrival of King Neptune and his court (I have pictures) and court was brought into session. I was surprised with a subpoena and charged with “Making forged documents for my bosses without making one for myself.” I had made fake Shellback cards for my Chief and the Engineering Officer (EO). I was brought up before the ship’s company to answer to King Neptune and was sentenced to 4 dunks in the pool. I was “shaved” with a mixture of lard, cottage cheese and puréed mussels, which was brushed all over my face and hair, was fed a “pill” by the doctors (a maraschino cherry filled with hot sauce), kissed the fish and was dropped backwards off the stage into a pool of salt water where 3 of the enforcers were there to catch me and toss me into the air for my 4 dunks. Now I’m not the biggest sailor out here and those boys are certainly in the running for that title, so let’s just say that I managed to get some serious height for those dunks. I’d have to say that that was my favorite part of the whole event. I felt like I was in kindergarten again, being tossed into the air by my classmates on the big parachute. After all of the eating and frolicking in the pool I made my way to the Quarter Deck (farthest spot on the back end of the ship) to try to clean off in the high pressure blast of a fire hose. The irony of it all, is I was considered “clean” now that I was dripping with fish guts and lard – go figure. After a nice HOT shower I made my way back to the upper decks were I was presented with a copy of my subpoena as a memento and watched the rest of the 175 Tadpoles make their way through the pool. All in all it was a fun experience, although I am not too keen to do it again. I think I’ll take my laminated Shellback card and promptly put it somewhere safe, so I don’t lose it and have to suffer the fate of a Tadpole again. I’m starting to understand the unusual creature that is the Naval Sailor. I’m not saying it’s been a smooth path of discovery, but it has been interesting!

Christmas thoughts already?

We were just informed today that if any loved ones would like to send anything for Christmas, like cards, parcels, pressies or packages, the cutoff date is November 20th. Now what this means is that if you are mailing the Christmas wares from anywhere within or outside of Canada you should mail it no later than November 6th, as this will guarantee it makes it to the Naval Base post office by the November 20th cut off date. For those of you sending the much loved, and desired Christmas gifts and/or cards from within Victoria. Just bring them down to the MFRC or base post office (Kevin) no later than Monday, 20th of November. I think I have managed to cover all possible interpretations of the dates. And please know that I am working on my entry describing the incredible silliness that was our "Crossing the Line" ceremony. But as I have mentioned before, some tales need to "ferment" for a period of time before they are delicious enough for the telling. Will write soon!

Singapore without the Sling!

I know, I know… it has been far too long since I have last written. Believe me all the “hint-hint” messages were hard to ignore. But some stories need to be mulled over and cultivated in the mind for a time before it becomes apparent to the storyteller that the tale is finally ripe for sharing. As I am a bit rusty at the whole art of writing, forgive me if this one was plucked from my memory a bit prematurely… but ultimately I think the blame should fall on those who kept pushing. :) HMCS OTTAWA was towed through the murky waters to it’s lonely birth alongside Singapore. We were dwarfed by our travel companions, as we were docked alongside the American naval ships, the one Canadian flag flying boldly in a sea of red, white and blue. Unfortunately, Singapore was not in her best attire for the visit, as fires have been raging in Malaysia for the past few weeks, and as a local paper printed, “matches are still the cheapest method of field clearing.” The dense, beige smog hung low in an already humid atmosphere; Singapore only experiences two seasons: Hot and Hotter. Fortunately we were experiencing the Hot season. But with the addition of the Malaysian haze the heat seemed almost unbearable. The first evening we were unleashed into Singapore’s bulging downtown core at 5:00 local time. I escaped with 3 fellow Stokers for a night of merriment. We boarded the MRT, Singapore’s efficient rail system, first stop, Chinatown. We were on the hunt for good food and a massage (my idea, but quickly adopted by the others). We managed to find an economical, yet equally enjoyable, alternative to visiting a spa. You see, there are many reflexology and massage therapy vendors lining the dense Chinatown expanse. We managed to discover a tiny shop on the third floor of a Chinatown mall and quickly signed up for treatments. I opted for a 30 minute foot reflexology therapy. It turned into 30 minutes per foot and cost me a whopping 20 Scoobie Bucks with a 5 buck tip. “Scoobie Bucks” was the slang term we gave the Singaporean dollar. My Dutch blood was a’ tingling at the obvious deal, as the spa treatment I had booked would have cost me 300 Scoobie Bucks… I made sure the next morning that I cancelled the treatment, vowing to search out more of these local vendors. The evening then took an unexpected turn as we found ourselves in a club boosting an Asian cover band… there is something to be said about watching 4 twenty-something Asian boys screaming out Metallica lyrics to an adoring crowd of young college students. We got such a quick out of it, that I even managed to snap a few photos of the guys. Kevin Albert (one of the stokers) was upset that the band didn’t sing like the Metallica cds… to which Quinton Cennon quickly pointed out that they didn’t quite look like them either! We spoke to the bar tender about good local places to check out from there and were advised to check out a small club under the Hyatt Hotel on Orchard. I was thinking this sounded like a great idea, seeing as the Hyatt is a well-known, high priced, classy establishment, so naturally the club associated would be comparable. Well, let’s just say I was right about it being “high priced.” I don’t think there was one girl in the joint that wasn’t on the clock. The room was very classy indeed… something comparable to a business adult’s lounge, with rich wood grain and exotic lighting fixtures. The difference was that the room was filled with middle aged white males and Asian females in very slinky attire. Go figure, I had managed to stubble across Singapore’s underbelly. Now I am a rather shy person by nature. Sure I have no problems with standing before a crowd of thousands speaking my mind… but when it comes to being surrounded by women so desperately begging to be objectified, I get a little uncomfortable. For starters I was wearing a turquoise button up top with a golf skort and flip-flops… not the most flattering “I’m here to show off my assets (emphasis on the “ass”) evening wear.” So, naturally you feel out of place in the bare skin sea of hormones. I decided to be a sport and wait out the night until the boys got bored with the surroundings and I could slink back to the boat. In retrospect, I don’t regret the experience one bit. I’m glad I was there to witness the oddness of it all. It’s strange to watch people old enough to be my parents, so desperately crying out for attention and a warped version of affection. It really made me feel more empowered that I do not swim with that crowd, that I am not dependent on human contact to the point I would search for a bastardized version of intimacy. All I feel is a need to say “Thank you, Mom and Dad” and “Thank you, Kevin.” The next day was a day of exploring that started as early as possible. Unfortunately that meant waiting until 12:00, as the second day was a working day filled with storing ship (taking on supplies by hand) and our hallowed cleaning stations. But, soon enough the leash was unclasped and we venture out to discover more of what Singapore had to offer. We seemed to rush through the city’s delights in an effort to capture all the sights and sounds on film… planning to truly take in the experience while back on board sifting through the digital imagery. We visited Chinatown, yet again (and a personal favorite), Little India, and then back to Orchard, the downtown shopping core. It was equally as choking hot, but the beauty soon revived us. Chinatown was filled with so much colour and life, the shops and wares spilling into the crowded alleys and street… I have the pictures to prove it. :) Little India left a lot to be desired in my opinion. I found it very dirt and almost impoverished. The only highlight of our visit there was finding a traditional Hindu Temple swarmed with colourful statues of all the Hindu deities. One comical thing of note, and yes, I snapped a picture, straight across the parking lot from the Hindu temple was a little, hidden Buddha statue sitting in the grass laughing. My evening was cut short, as I had volunteered to attend a reception on the ship’s flight deck. Many dignitaries and foreign ambassadors were in attendance and I wooed them all with my tales of life as a female engineer on the high seas. All in all it was a great experience. So many different stories and experiences to exchange for new ones. The third day was a day of Duty. I was an upper deck sentry, toting my C-7 rifle and accessory belt. The heat was unbearable, with the only relief being a menial breeze barely reaching me from the water. If there was any potential threat to the ship and her crew, I wouldn’t have been all the intimidating with my feet dragging and my rifle hanging from my shoulders, looking like a waif searching for an oasis in the choking heat. I sure did get a lot of stares though. Apparently I look “hot with a gun.” Really? Cause I sure did feel HOT! The fourth and final day was a day jammed packed with trying to fit everything we had missed during the first two days into. I think we did a pretty good job. We went back to Chinatown for food and shopping, went back to Orchard for shopping and ice cream (so good) and then to a spa for massages and pampering (Chinatown variety). I managed to pick up quite a few great souvenirs for family, and of course myself – come on now, I am my mother’s daughter. Mom, you would love it. I bought a gorgeous red and gold Chinese style jacket made of 100% Chinese silk. It was designed and tailored in Singapore and fits me like a glove. On that note, I must say, “I love Singapore. They are MY people.” The Promised Land, where I would never need to hem my pants! So, all in all it was a fantastic experience. Yes, Kevin I have taken your much repeated advice and am making the most of each port. I’ve managed to experience a lot and stretch my money like a yoga master! Today was a rather momentous occasion as we have crossed the Equator. We are now undergoing extensive initiation rituals to be accepted into “King Neptune’s Realm.” It is all a part of “The Crossing The Line Ceremony.” An old navy tradition were all the “slimy, unclean tadpoles” (me, and anyone else who hasn’t yet crossed the line) are initiated to become “Shellbacks” (all those who have crossed the line before). The festivities kicked off about an hour or two ago, where we were all mustered up on the focsle (the pointy end) and witness our fellow shipmates dressed in character. We had mermaids, enforcers, the herald and Davey Jones. All there to ensure us Tadpoles are clean enough to enter King Neptune’s Realm. Tomorrow is the initiation ceremony, complete with an “interesting” breakfast and a dunk in the pool. No please forgive me, as I am quite cold from my initial Tadpole bath… I’ll explain more tomorrow, as I am still not completely sure what lies in store… especially since I am the Leader of the Tadpole Liberation Army (TLA). :)

Twas The Night After Thanksgiving!

TWAS THE NIGHT OF THANKSGIVING! Twas the night of Thanksgiving, but I just couldn't sleep I tried counting backwards, I tried counting sheep The leftovers beckoned - the Dark meat and white But I fought the temptation with all of my might. Tossing and turning with anticipation The thought of a snack became infatuation. So I raced to the kitchen, flung open the door and Gazed at the fridge, full of goodies galore. I gobbled up turkey and buttered potatoes, Pickles and carrots, beans and tomatoes. I felt myself swelling so plump and so round, Til all of a sudden, I rose off the ground. I crashed through the ceiling, floating into the sky With a mouthful of pudding and a handful of pie. But, I managed to yell as I soared past the trees... Happy eating to all, pass the cranberries, please. May your stuffing be tasty. May your turkey be plump. May your potatoes ' n gravy have nary a lump. May your yams be delicious. May your pies take the prize. May your Thanksgiving dinner stay off of your thighs. MAY YOU ALL HAVE A BLESSED THANKSGIVING!

Presents!!

Wow! Thank you, Mom. I don't know why I didn't think to give you all the information necessary to send me packages or mail. For starters the following is a toll free Mission Information Line number: 1-800-866-4546. Anyone can call this number to hear current information on our sail and mission. There is also a recorded message that is updated every couple of days by a member of the ship's Command. You can also visit HMCS Ottawa's personal website and read our Guestbook and even write us sailors a message at: www.navy.forces.gc.ca/ottawa/guestbook/ship_guestbook_e.asp There is also a lot of information for friends and family on the MFRC (Military Family Resource Centre) website at: www.esquimaltmfrc.com If you would like to send me a care package (which will always be well received, regardless of contents!) you can get detailed information on the MFRC website. Here is the gist of it though: Sending a Package All parcels must have the following information on the outside of the packages or letter: *complete mailing address of the person the letter or package is being sent to, *complete return address of the sender, *sender's telephone number (including area code), *list of contents. Each letter and package must be individually addressed with the following information: *deployed member's rank, *deployed member's first initial, *deployed member's last name, *mess number (if you know it), *name of ship, *address (PO Box 17000, Station Forces, Victoria, BC V9A 7N2).

So, it would look something like this: LS C. Hipfner MESS 1 HMCS OTTAWA PO Box 17000, Station Forces Victoria, BC V9A 7N2 You can also check the deadline dates for sending a package to the ship on the MFRC website under the "Deployment" menu.

Happy Stuffing and Gravy Day!!

The way I see it, not enough credit is given to the wonderful stuffing and fantastic gravy that is served on this day usually celebrating the turkey. Don't get me wrong I love turkey as much as the next person, but there is just something to be said about a well baked stuffing. Definitely my favorite for the "leftover" meals that follow the holiday. The ship have been promised turkey with all the trimmings tonight and the cheap Thanksgiving decorations that have been staring at me and my morning toast for the past few days are really starting to awaken my taste buds. It is two hours till dinner time and already I'm wishing I was at home, the football game playing in the family room, the turkey roasting in the oven. Kevin, of course, sneaking peeks through the oven window to 'just make sure everything is ok in there.' I guess one of the nice trade offs would be the hot weather we're experiencing as we sail through the Philippines Islands on our way to Singapore. Speaking of which, the waters are said to be pirate infested. I kid you not. Tonight we will be on pirate watch with the pirate lighting rigged to spotlight all our weapons to remind the pirates that we are an armed warship and not necessarily an easy target. Although, if Long John Silver did board our vessel, I would be awfully tempted not to slap on an eye patch, yell out a "YARRR!" and sail the seven seas as a pirate. Come to think of it, I'd probably get more sea time that way... there probably isn't a health plan though. Things have been somewhat choppy in the seas surrounding the Philippines. I have spent the better part of the week in sickbay... "fasting in preparation for Thanksgiving Dinner." I managed to keep most of my cookies down, but was in no shape to eat anything and spent most of the time drugged on Gravol injections sleeping and dreaming of calmer waters. Today, I'm doing better - I'm mobile for starters. And for some reason people I didn't even know had set sail with us have been coming out of the woodwork to see if I'm feeling any better. It sure makes e feel loved, if not a little bit embarrassed. Like I tell the boys, "If it weren't for the sea, I'd be one heck of a sailor!" But the Doc put it all into perspective pointing out that my body is reacting exactly the way it is meant to in this situation. At least I know my system is finely tuned and highly receptive. My solution to all the turbulence is to reward myself with a trip to a gorgeous looking spa in Singapore and enjoy 2 1/2 hours of pampering. I figure I have earned it. My Mom had emailed me yesterday and ask how I was doing... REALLY. Well, the truth is my spirits have definitely been down lately, but I'm sure that's due to the seasickness. But of course, there is also the loneliness and homesickness to deal with too. I am finding it hard to comprehend that I will not have a normal life for another 5 months. I know I've never really had a normal life, but I'm sure you get my meaning. It is also difficult to have finally met the person you want to share everything with and he has to be left behind for 6 months. Yes, we can all rationalize that 6 months isn't that big of a deal in the grand scheme of things but... 6 months contains many things for us. In this case it means missing Thanksgiving, Halloween, Christmas, my Birthday, Valentine's Day, both brothers' birthdays, Dads birthday, Kevin's brother's wedding, and of course all the little moments of each day; picking up groceries and making dinner together, our nightly drives, my Sunday calls with Mom, watching the new Gilmore Girls, having baths, and the list goes on. It sounds so strange to complain of loneliness and boredom when you're trapped in a tin can with 250 of your 'closest friends and family.' We all try to make the most of our time here, but it's still really tough. The guys who have done Gulf trips before all swear that the first and last month are always the hardest. I sure hope they are right, cause 6 months of time seeming to virtually stand still will make me go batty. At least there is always the ice cream sandwiches the ship's canteen sells to put a bright spot in your day. I may come home obese, but at least I will have coped, right? :) So yet again, thank you for all the comments you have been sending. I seem to thrive on getting email! It really does help with the monotony of the days.