It's the Fourth of July weekend of 2000, and I'm on the M/V Joy Anne Keller, and we are on public display on the waterfront under the Gateway Arch in Saint Louis as a part of the VP Fair. I'm not sure what all else went on around town during this event, but the waterfront was lively. Fireworks (shot off from a barge moored out in the river), airshows, boats and military equipment on display, etcetera.
Deck barges were tied off along the cobblestone riverfront in front of the Arch, and all of us that were open to the public were tied off to these barges. They provided easy access to the floating stuff (us!) via gangways set between the deck barges and the shore and served to keep us securely tied off in deep enough water.
During display hours, we were bringing people aboard through the port engine room door. They could gawk at the EMD 16-710 engines that were our mains, peek into the engineer's booth, go forward and visit the galley (our cooks always had cold drinks available for the visitors) and deck locker, and for anyone who didn't mind the stairs, they could see the quarters on the second deck, the guest quarters on the third deck, and the pilothouse.
There were always office people on board for this. Some were helping out, answering questions, and guiding, others just hanging out and being a part of it. Hank, our director of maintenance (my top boss) was out for a visit the afternoon that the Blue Angels were going to perform. Hank and I and one of the port engineers were chatting, and it came out that he had never been to an air show before. I told him that he was in for a real treat; these guys did things with fighter jets at low altitude, high speed, and three feet apart that had to be seen to be believed.
When the Blue Angels were starting, we stepped out onto the river side of the boat. Best seats in the house, we were the closest ones to the flight line. The diamond formation went past us doing a slow roll as they went by, and Hank's mouth fell open. As the show progressed into the vertical maneuvers, he had his head back, in awe of what he was seeing. "DAMN! What do these people do for excitement!", he exclaimed. Most of us go to a ball game or such, but what in hell could ever top doing that! Good point!
Anyway, on to the main event...
Early on the first day, the Coast Guard came in behind us with a buoy tender to have on display. They had a canopy set up on the barge for the guys on duty while they answered any questions. It was also a duty weekend for local naval reservists, so navy folks were showing up to work in addition to the tender crew.
A few of the Coast Guard and navy guys had wandered over to our boat. We showed them around the engine room and were standing in the engine room door, talking, when this person showed up. He was carrying a duffel bag and wore a naval officer's cap, and I had a glimpse of one of the naval reservists roll his eyes when he spotted him.
Ignoring the navy and CG guys, he focused on me. "Are you part of the crew of this vessel?", he asked, with scorn dripping off of the word vessel. I allowed that I was. "Show me somewhere where I can change clothes." It wasn't a request, it was an order. "You can use my cabin." I walked him through the upper engine room and into the quarters to the door of my cabin, He went in, and shut the door in my face without so much as a by-your-leave.
OK, now I understand the eyeroll that he got coming aboard. Back out at the engine room door, one of the navy reservists asked, Well, didja get any kind of thanks for the courtesy?" I said no, he shut the door in my face. They laughed, and somebody else said that that was the way that he treated them and that they were hoping that he wasn't going to show up on what otherwise would be an enjoyable weekend. I mentioned that I had spotted the Annapolis class ring, and the first speaker said to not take it that all academy graduates were like that, but that they called the ones that lorded the academy education over everyone and that generally treated the enlisted sailors as a disposable commodity "ring knockers". Not a term of endearment...
Sunday was our last day, and late in the afternoon, the weather started to turn. A thunderstorm soon brewed up, and the folks on the buoy tender only had their unsecured canopy to shelter under. We yelled at them to come over, there was plenty of room for all of them in the upper engine room. They did so right away, grateful to be out of the storm, and they even brought their academy "friend" with them
We all stood around and talked while we waited the storm out, they were curious and asked a lot of questions about our boat. A few wandered forward to the galley for a glass of iced tea, and I spotted our ring knocker headed for the rudder room. A short while later he came back out, walked over and tapped me on the shoulder, and said, "You've got six rudders under this thing." With a straight face, I replied, "Yeah, we do.", and turned back to the navy reservist that I had been talking with. Since he had an academy education, he likely didn't need any elaborate explanation, and I wasn't about to explain flanking to him.
The Keller at the St. Louis waterfront, with the Eads Bridge in the background.
