Cruising: 'Tigers' shadow the crew on Navy ship
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ABOARD THE USS BUNKER HILL - I recently took to the ocean for a voyage from Honolulu to San Diego - a high-seas cruise on the Pacific. But there were no tropical drinks, no fine wines, no lazing in deck chairs.
I went with the U.S. Navy - as a spectator, and as a proud father.
When my son, Justin, who was in the midst of a six-month Naval deployment to the Persian Gulf, first asked months ago if I wanted to go on a "Tiger cruise," I didn't answer right away - not having a clue what a Tiger cruise might be. Turns out a Tiger is a relative of a member of the crew of a Navy ship, and, as such, may board the ship en route to its home port following a long deployment. This final leg constitutes a Tiger cruise.
As a former Navy officer, I realized this invitation offered an extraordinary opportunity for me. Justin's ship was the USS Bunker Hill, an Aegis-type guided-missile cruiser that is part of the Abraham Lincoln battle group. At that time it was in the Persian Gulf intercepting ships suspected of smuggling oil. The last week of its long siege would be spent between Honolulu and San Diego. Most of the Tigers would be fathers and sons of the Bunker Hill's crew.
I told my son, a 24-year-old junior officer who got his commission through Navy ROTC at Duke University, I'd be delighted to be his Tiger, and three months later I was flying from New York to Honolulu to meet him and the Bunker Hill.
On the long flight over I thought about how, for generations, American parents have been raising children to young adulthood, then seeing them depart to distant lands as members of our military forces. Most of these parents could only imagine what their children's adventures away from home would entail. It dawned on me I would have the rare privilege of witnessing a sliver of my son's other existence.
Aboard the ship
My stateroom accommodated (a generous verb in this circumstance) not only me and Justin, but another officer and another Tiger, the nephew of an officer, who was more than 40 years my junior. The room had three stacked bunks (as the eldest roommate I got the middle- and most-accessible one) and a cot for my son.
My Tiger peers and I were issued a kit by the ship's chaplain that included a daunting eight-page document titled "USS Bunker Hill, CG-52 Tiger Cruise 2001 Honorary Cruiser Sailor PQS."
"PQS," it turned out, stood for "personal qualification standards," and meant we Tigers, should we wish to qualify as Tiger Surface Warfare Specialists, needed to get the ship's officers and petty officers to sign off on myriad requirements. So much for my relaxing tropical cruise.
At least Honolulu-to-San Diego had sounded tropical to me, and consequently I packed several pairs of Bermuda shorts. They never saw the light of day at sea. I wound up clad in my only pair of long pants all week long, as it was brisk - at best - on the decks and bridge.
Meals were important
Because ship's work and watches (and getting signatures in the case of us Tiger surface warfare specialist aspirants) took up most of the day, and there wasn't much in the way of recreation, meals became our focus. They were frequent and plentiful - three squares punctuated by an evening event such as ice-cream night, spicy-chicken-leg night and pizza night. The young crew of the Bunker Hill was impressive, bearing the responsibility for maintaining $1 billion worth of high-tech equipment and standing grueling and highly demanding watches.
The Bunker Hill's ward room comprised a combination of surface-warfare officers and Navy pilots. Although I'm told it isn't true of all ships with such a mix, the two elements blended seamlessly into one. This, I'm sure, contributed mightily to the Battle E (for efficiency) that the Bunker Hill had bestowed upon it on the voyage home.
Wide cross-section
In the course of exploring this newly decorated ship (and getting my requisite signatures), I met pilots, and officer- and petty-officer specialists in a variety of areas. When engine plants and the like were explained to me in terms that exceeded my comprehension, I nodded knowingly and uttered such sage responses as, "Is that right?"
One of my Tiger counterparts seemed to understand virtually everything explained to him, further deflating my ego. When I later learned that he was a physicist and principal scientist at Rockwell, I felt a little better.
As a Tiger-in-training, I was determined to stand all my son's watches with him. They were divided between CCS (Central Control Station) and the bridge where he stood officer-of-the-deck watches. Alas, I fell short by one - the 2 a.m. to 7 a.m.
Learning experience
We Tigers learned a lot, while keeping quiet when necessary and staying out of the way of the men who were responsible for the safety of the ship.
One of my son's watches as OOD (officer of the deck) coincided with an afternoon of exercises in which the ship's guns were fired and the Bunker Hill played leapfrog with her sister missile cruiser, the USS Shiloh, which also was returning to San Diego. The two cruisers took turns making close parallel approaches to one another.
Justin got to take the conn (give steering commands to the helmsman) for one approach, since the executive officer knew his dad was watching. This special voyage was a luxury cruise by one standard only - it provided me the luxury of a bonding experience with my son I'll never forget.