Let’s Sail

Where shall we go?

Of course the correct answer relies on knowing where one is starting from, which might be anywhere, or impossible to know, being lost.

We certainly don’t want to end up right back where we were in January 2021!

2024 is still far away, politically speaking. Nobody knows who the candidates will be, nobody knows how the 2022 midterms will influence the equation, nobody knows any more about the murky future than they usually do. Maybe the election will have a quick, and decisive outcome and those who dread a recurrence or worse worry for nothing.

Alas, for now it seems most likely the election result will be bitterly disputed and we will see many of the same players on the field in a rematch. Who will end up with the ball, institutionally speaking, and what they will do with it?

The political and legal machinations following the 2020 U.S. Presidential election and continuing to this day drew attention to many features of the process usually taken for granted, if not completely overlooked by most people.

For those who paid attention, there was a comprehensive lesson in the various ways a U.S. election might be disrupted by unanticipated actions or inactions of people in Congress, courts high and low, state legislatures, the United States Armed Forces, and the insurrectionist mob. Not to leave out insiders in and out of the administration, or foreigners.

Likewise there was an education in which are the soundest pillars in the American democratic edifice, those we might or might not hope to rely upon. A very mixed bunch, I would say. I have always found it interesting that the Romans had an arguably better water-proof concrete than we today, though I haven’t recently checked the news on the subject. Perhaps one thing we missed taking so much from the Greeks.

Whether or not it actually occurred, or somebody imagined it might occur, or it almost occurred, or could have occurred but for the intervention or not of some key player, last ditch institutional resilience, incompetence on the part of the conspirators, accident, miracle, or trickery, most scenarios and sub-plots had at least a few moments in the spotlight somewhere near the living room, if not dominating it every night. I found it all quite unsettling, very stressful.

Indictment and prosecution of the 2020/1 ringleaders would significantly change the landscape, alleviating the concerns of a few, maybe inflaming others. Aside from that, and barring other major unexpected plot twists from whatever source, most of the major players are on the field. Politicians, judges, lawyers, media, and donors are all collectively stationed, if not actually anchored, almost exactly where they will be in 2024. The trends in lawmaking and judging, not to mention mid-game rule changes, are not likely to reverse themselves.

Alas again, there are not likely to be any congressional, senatorial, or gubernatorial seats within grasp of any ambitious land-locked or other pirates. Interesting mayorships and council positions would be out of reach wherever there is a big city machine operating, not that they would do much good in the situation at hand. Key state cabinet positions are hotly contested by all the big players, whether voters notice or not. Everybody wants a legitimate vote-counting job for the first time ever, so it is probably too late for that. By the way, if things are calm where you are, there is still a big storm brewing or blowing somewhere. Tornados, like waterspouts, typhoons, and hurricanes can be extremely hazardous, as well as more destructive than in the past. There is danger of one approaching where the game on TV is being played.

Fortunately, the framers of the Constitution have indicated where they thought the backstop ought to be, and it is right there in place where it always has been.

Now, it is definitely within means and worthwhile to make an effort to make sure it is right, given that things may get dramatic. The voters might think of themselves as at the plate and down to their last three outs, being the ’22,’23, and ’24 elections, needing several runs….

According to Wikipedia, last time I checked, there are 7,323 Upper and Lower House U.S. State Legislative seats held by Democrats and Republicans combined, many of which will be contested more than once through 2024. A few are held by other parties as well. State Legislatures are where attention should be focused. There are 13 state governments where power is divided one way or another between D’s and R’s . There are 37 where both governorship and legislature are held by one party (23 R and 14 D).

It would not be right to put a tally on the judiciary in any of the states but it is safe to say they are analogously split and highly politicized on parallel lines.

I thought the courts performed relatively well at lower levels last time around, though admit to having been spooked by the higher ones in a way not felt since 2000, when I almost peed in my pants. As things have since taken a turn for the worse, I urge adherence to the law at every step.

In the event of a crisis around the election that lands in 1-50 state legislatures, a small coalition without their own slate of electors landing between two, three, or even four factions who do might end up in an unexpectedly important position. If we were lucky they would be there because they were elected on a platform emphasizing integrity and impartial data/evidence based decision and policy making. Refreshingly boring. Beyond boring. At minimum, if things go awry, at least there might be somebody in position to sound off about it.

Speaking of sounding off, I recall an incident from one summer early in my stint in the Navy, when I was temporarily banished to the USS Roark as a deck seaman for being less than truthful on some matters, and smeared on others during the enlistment and clearance processes.

It was our mission to train part-time sailors, and we had the duty of showing them the ways of the real Navy, transporting them back and forth between Treasure Island and San Diego, hoping to teach them something along the way.

It was not a truly terrible job in port, and I had terrific times both in San Francisco and San Diego. Visits to Tijuana were by far the best part of the deal, leading me to suspect the motivations of some in joining the Navy part-time in the first place, but that’s another story.

We sailed around the Channel Islands, particularly San Clemente, quite a bit. Once we were involved in a fairly serious war exercise, and this is where the story becomes relevant.

It was an absolutely glorious day and I had the great fortune of being forward lookout, by far my favorite duty. I scanned the 180 degree horizon like an extremely high strung German Shepherd watch dog looking for masts and periscopes, the skies for aircraft, not letting the schools of dolphins and various seabirds distract me in the least.

There was nothing there -just the wind and the waves, dolphins, seabirds, and sun. Maybe a whale or two - I would not want to embellish but certainly I saw many along the way at other times.

It was a bit cramped up there and I decided to stretch my legs so I decided to walk back about 4 feet towards the stern of the ship. Whether this technically constituted negligence or not, I do not know, I felt quite guilty and it took me a while to get up the nerve to take my eyes off part of the horizon.

Well, what I saw in these few seconds absolutely astounded me. There was a United States Navy submarine, no markings necessary there or anywhere else in like situations, coming up behind us on the surface, and there seemed to be a party going on ion top of the conning tower. I admit to wanting to be a submariner upon first enlisting. The Navy would not let me. I cannot say exactly how far behind us the conning tower was, some of it obscured by a huge plume of mist and water, but it looked to me like the crew might be drinking champagne on duty during an important exercise. I couldn’t be sure, it might have been anything. They were shouting, it was over-crowded, and they were going too fast as well. If you think I was going to report them for this, you are wrong.

I did want the folks on the bridge to know what I had seen. Perhaps we had won? I had a gut feeling probably not.

I immediately called to the bridge on the phone I was supposed to use and reported a submarine on the surface coming up our behind. There is also an aft lookout, and I was curious to hear his take on the situation. I don’t remember if he was on a different call but there was no answer when anybody tried to reach him and find out if there was a submarine out behind or in front somewhere. The worst was being questioned. What was I doing aft when I was supposed to be on forward watch? In fact, I was right over their heads where I was supposed to be, and proved it by kind of dangling down and waving to them through the open door.

I felt dissed as this continued, everybody worrying about whether the phones were broken or the aft lookout needed coffee delivered or whatever else. Meanwhile it looked like it was Dom Perignon coming out of a large crate with red or green Asian characters on it. If we had won, I should have some. Unfortunately I suspected I was dead, in spite of other evidence to the contrary. Not really all exactly true, just to clearly illustrate the gravity of the situation.

I basically yelled at all the officers on the bridge, my bad, and told them they might want to come out and have a look for themselves at the submarine near astern and obvious party going on.

Eventually somebody did, and all hell broke loose. We spent quite a bit of time at GQ after that since the submariners cut their party short and dived, taking their champagne, if that is what it was, and whatever else they still had aboard with them. We circled around presumably looking for debris but as far as I could tell they cleaned up after themselves before they disappeared beneath the sunny white capped waves near the Channel Islands.

I had already laid plans to escape this dangerous assignment, despite the pleasures of being at sea, and do not know the aftermath*. I hope my point is clear.

DP2 J.G. Winter USN (1986-1992)

December 2021

* As it happened, I enjoyed the area so much that I later ended up living on a 27ft sailboat in Cat Harbor on the backside of Catalina Island. It was relatively safe except for the occasional water spout or if a storm should blow straight into the harbor. My job at this time was as deckhand on the Island Supplier, a stretched out and raised up WWII troop depositing vehicle. We would load it up with containers of trash or occasionally a fuel truck and dash across the channel dodging container ships early in the morning a few times a month. Believe it or not this war more my style than taking a U.S. Navy submarine up the ass in simulation or a much lesser other one in real life, due to incompetence. My Captain on the Island Supplier was a man named Tom Lewis, who claimed to have steered an aircraft carrier many a mile, among other things. I don’t know how much is true, I loved him dearly and trusted my life to him many times. I am confident in this judgement, though always remembering the captain of the Titanic, who had less than adventurous career and so was also less than alert when the time came.