My Time in the US Navy: Service, Tradition, and Legacy
My Time in the US Navy: Service, Tradition, and Legacy
By James K. Lewis
Beginnings and Training
My naval journey began shortly after high school graduation in Oconomowoc, Wisconsin. I squeezed in one last milestone of civilian life—the release of Star Wars—and attended a Milwaukee Brewers baseball game, the very team that sponsored my boot camp company. On June 23, 1977, I reported to the Great Lakes Naval Training Center. Boot camp was a crash course in seamanship, naval traditions, physical endurance, and discipline.
From there, I advanced to Basic Electricity and Electronics (BE&E) School and then to Electrician’s Mate A-School. The training was demanding but gave me the skills to maintain and troubleshoot the Navy’s complex shipboard electrical systems. Afterward, I enjoyed two weeks of leave at home before traveling west to join the USS Coral Sea at Puget Sound Naval Shipyard in Bremerton, Washington.
Life Aboard the USS Coral Sea
When I arrived in February 1978, the Coral Sea was undergoing a major modernization overhaul. Her electrical systems, flight deck, and facilities were being upgraded, preparing her for the next decade of service. I learned quickly about seasickness during shakedown operations in Puget Sound, but with a little help from motion sickness pills, I found my sea legs and never struggled badly again.
During liberty, I often rode the ferry to Seattle. The Space Needle was a highlight, with its revolving restaurant and breathtaking views of the bay. Those moments of exploration provided balance to the hard work aboard ship.
Following shipyard work, the Coral Sea shifted homeport to Alameda, California. Life there had its own rhythm. Sailors filled their free time creatively, sometimes in odd ways—I recall one shipmate who kept a ferret in his locker, “calming” it with smoke. My own pastimes were more traditional: catching buses into Oakland to browse bookstores, especially DeLauer’s Super News Stand, or taking BART into San Francisco to ride cable cars, visit Fisherman’s Wharf, or enjoy simple pleasures like sourdough bread and novelty chess sets.
Aboard ship, I began in the movie booth, running 16 mm reels for crew entertainment. But my real responsibilities came with assignments across E-Division. Much of the work was dirty and difficult, often in tight spaces deep within the ship. Once, when a valve dropped into the bilges of the engine room, I was sent “bilge diving” to recover it—an unpleasant but memorable initiation into life below decks.
Camaraderie helped us endure. Sometimes I disguised casual movie sessions as “preventive maintenance training” with neatly laid-out materials ready for any officer who walked in. They knew, I knew—but it was part of the give-and-take of shipboard life.
Life in E-Division
Aboard ship, I began in the movie booth, running 16 mm reels for crew entertainment. But my real responsibilities came with assignments across E-Division. Much of the work was dirty and difficult, often in tight spaces deep within the ship. I served on electrical switchboard number 2 and was responsible for the emergency generator in Engine Room Two. When a real power loss occurred, my training paid off, and I earned an “attaboy” from my leading petty officer for responding calmly and effectively.
Camaraderie helped us endure. Sometimes I disguised casual movie sessions as “preventive maintenance training” with neatly laid-out materials ready for any officer who walked in. They knew, I knew—but it was part of the give-and-take of shipboard life.
Once, when a valve dropped into the bilges of the engine room, I was sent “bilge diving” to recover it—an unpleasant but memorable initiation into life below decks.
The 1979–1980 WestPac Deployment
The most defining period of my service came with the Coral Sea’s 1979–1980 Western Pacific (WestPac) deployment. On November 13, 1979, we departed Alameda with tension in the air. The Iran Hostage Crisis was unfolding, and we knew we were heading into history.
A leadership change occurred early in the deployment when Captain Richard M. Dunleavy relieved Captain Stanley R. Arthur. The crew quickly adjusted to the new command and pressed on with our mission.
Ports of Call
The rhythm of life on board continued with flight operations, drills, meals, and the occasional brief liberty stop at the following ports:
Pearl Harbor, Hawaii – a brief 6½-hour layover due to the urgency of reaching operational areas quickly. No liberty was granted on that first visit, but I worked in my E-Division administrative office and got to see all kinds of requests from crew members hoping to get off the ship for even a little while. I remember one Chief Petty Officer submitting a request just to test out his new shoes! Everyone was trying every excuse imaginable. All requests were denied, of course, but it was entertaining to watch the creativity of the crew in action. On later trips to Pearl Harbor, I was able to go ashore and visit with some friends who had moved there. They gave me a personal tour of the island of Oahu, where I got to see the Arizona Memorial and even go up inside Diamond Head—a much more relaxed and memorable experience than my first rushed visit.
Pusan, South Korea – During shore leave, I visited local drinking establishments. Even though I had been warned about the strength of the local alcohol, I partook a little too much and quickly discovered that the bathroom setups were a bit different than what Americans were used to. On the way back to the ship, we were transported by “Mike” boats (LCMs) since the Coral Sea was too large to come into the bay. The waters were rough, my stomach wasn’t happy, and halfway back, the engine on our boat failed. We bobbed in the middle of the bay while my discomfort grew. By the time we reached the ship, I rushed to the nearest head and promptly made use of one of the toilets.
Pattaya Beach, Thailand – Since the Coral Sea was too large to come all the way in, we were transported via local private boats. Once I reached the beach, I decided to get a Coke from a vendor and discovered it was the warmest Coke I’ve ever had! I took a tour bus to Bangkok with a shipmate and hired a local guide to see the Royal Palace. This was the same place where the story of Anna and the King took place. I remember one big, thick, tall wooden door, and the guide said, “That’s where the King kept his harem.” My thought was: that would do the trick!
Singapore – I was immediately impressed by how clean the city was, which I quickly learned was due to the very strict laws enforced throughout the tiny nation. It was remarkable to see such order and cleanliness in a bustling port city. Wanting to sample the local cuisine, I walked through several restaurants and inspected the food displays, but I decided that none of the offerings were for me—they just looked too unfamiliar. I continued wandering the streets, trying to decide where to eat, until I came across a large cylindrical advertising sign that indicated a McDonald’s about 300 meters ahead. I immediately knew that was where I would have lunch. While I didn’t experience the local dishes firsthand, I still enjoyed walking the streets, taking in the sights, sounds, and energy of a city so strictly maintained yet full of life, a stark contrast to some of the other ports we visited.
Subic Bay, Philippines – Our two visits allowed me to see Olongapo City, situated on Luzon near Subic Bay. The bar scene was similar to what you’d see in Flight of the Intruder, and the local alcohol was very strong. At one bar, during happy hour, grills brought shish kabobs, which looked good but were unfamiliar. I finished eating anyway. I also took part in entertainment on base and tried miniature golf shortly after monsoon season, making the course muddy and challenging.
On February 5, we relieved the USS Midway at Gonzo Station in the Arabian Sea. For 102 days, we maintained a constant presence during the hostage crisis. Hours were long, conditions harsh, and the responsibility heavy. I remember men sleeping in heavy gear to stay warm through the night.
Crossing the Line Ceremony
On February 2, 1980, we crossed the equator at 0° latitude and 105° 40' east longitude. For those of us who had never crossed it, the Shellback ceremony was chaotic, hilarious, and slightly terrifying. Neptune and his court didn’t hold back, and pollywogs were put through ridiculous challenges, obstacles, and playful humiliations. We hauled lines, navigated obstacles, and endured tasks handed down by the line handlers and boatswain’s mates—all while trying to maintain our dignity.
More than just a ritual, it was about joining a brotherhood and proving ourselves to our shipmates. It created a shared memory that tied us together across the entire crew, regardless of rank. By the end, each of us Pollywogs emerged as Shellbacks, officially inducted into Neptune’s domain and a centuries-old naval tradition.
Tradition and Legacy
The Shellback ceremony is more than hazing or ritual; it is a rite of passage. Alongside it, sailors recognize other orders: the Blue Nose for crossing the Arctic Circle, the Golden Dragon for the International Date Line, and the Order of the Ditch for the Panama Canal. Each marks a sailor’s journey across the seas and embeds personal milestones into the Navy’s collective story.
Traditions like these endure because they build trust and camaraderie. Technology may advance, but nothing replaces the human bond forged by laughter, endurance, and shared trials at sea.
Operation Eagle Claw
The climax of our deployment came on April 24, 1980—Operation Eagle Claw, the attempted rescue of the American hostages in Iran. The ship went to Red Alert, and every sailor knew this was not a drill. I raced to my station, donned my oxygen breathing apparatus, and braced for what could have been my last watch.
I later learned that the helicopters encountered engine problems due to someone missing the weather forecast for a sandstorm, which caused mechanical failures. At the time, the captain announced over the 1MC that something had happened the previous night which might have put the idea in the Iranians’ minds to try to attack us. Years later, knowing the actual details gave me a mix of relief, awe, and respect for the challenges faced that day.
Return Voyage
After Eagle Claw, we returned home via the great circle route, heading past Korea because the Midway was in drydock in Japan, so we patrolled off Korea until the Midway could relieve us.
During the return voyage, we crossed the International Date Line from west to east, losing a day on the calendar. With the typical humor of American sailors, we jokingly claimed we had “2/5,” a running joke all the way home.
On June 10, 1980, we steamed into Alameda, weary but proud, carrying both the Navy Expeditionary Medal and memories that would last a lifetime. Shortly thereafter, I was promoted to Petty Officer Third Class, one of the most meaningful events of my career. I had the chance to meet Captain Dunleavy up close—briefly, but enough to see that he was just as warm and personable in person as over the 1MC.
Conclusion
My service aboard the USS Coral Sea from 1978 to 1981 was a chapter of hard work, growth, and unforgettable moments. It was dirty and difficult at times, thrilling and terrifying at others. It tested me, strengthened me, and gave me friendships and lessons I carry to this day. History remembers deployments, battles, and operations. But those of us who lived them also remember the camaraderie on the mess decks, the liberty adventures ashore, the sting of cold wind on night watch, and the pride of crossing the equator to become a Shellback.
After leaving the Navy, I went to school and eventually ended up in Kansas, where I got married and had children. That marriage didn’t work out, and my wife and I went our separate ways. However, some good came from it—I now have five children and a growing number of grandchildren.
I also reconnected with my service aboard the Coral Sea through the USS Coral Sea CV-43 Facebook page, where I am part of the administrative staff. In a sense, I am still serving aboard the Coral Sea, and the best part is hearing stories from former crew members, building camaraderie across generations. I even participated in a Zoom call with the last commanding officer of the Coral Sea—a remarkable opportunity.
If I could, I would rejoin in a second because I really want to give back to this country that has provided me so much.
Fair winds and following seas…..
Comments
Post a Comment