After several years at sea, expectations were always high with Norm when a seaport was coming into view. A place where a ship could anchor out and liberty sections were announced. Sometimes, I would have to man my duty station so other men in my division could go ‘On the Beach’.

Every seaport has a flavor, remembered by the salty ones. Izmir Turkey was known for pushy vendors trying to buy your pants. Odd to everyone on board. Just for the materiel of the wool it seemed. One could not imagine a Turk wearing a pair of Dress Blues. Malta was odd with many tobacco shops every where. I bought a clay pipe and some pipe tobacco. It made me feel connected with the past. 3 riggers with a man at the tiller haveing a smoke with a gentle breeze coming to port.

Rhodes was only remembered by the absence of the Colossus at the breakwater. There were other images which I have decided at this time to put on the back shelf of memory. Villa France, Palma De Majorca. Home port was the best as that was where I had a small apartment and civilian clothes.

It was Naples, Italy where I began to feel at home in a way. Learning a little Italian and just walking about. My apartment was on the top floor of the Galleria Umberto with good views of the galleria below. In a cross for a city block with the glass dome above me. I met a swell English gal in a coffee shop and she agreed to accompany me on the local train to view Pompei. It was a mistake. The pornographic scenes painted on the crumbling walls were enough to put her off. Fascinating place with all the remants of body imprints where they layed as the Vesuvius errupted and buring the city with volcanic ash. Never saw that young woman again. She saw a young man with a nice Harris tweed jacket at first meeting. Perhaps her impressions changed a bit. The train ride there was most pleasant, the ride back was a bit less so.

Decades later, Norm and his wife Julie went to a seaport that was a bit over a hundred miles away from the home ranch in Wisconsin. Duluth.

Big ships coming and going and the big air horns blasting the letter G (dah dit dah dah) with thrilling low bass notes as they hove into view to signal the lift bridge and say hello. I like that sound. Akin to the big bass notes at the largest pipe organ in the world, run by air. They are similar to the EMI magnets which I have also enjoyed, which astonishes most everyone. “You liked that? The thruming and the tight space too which reminded me of the submarines I briefly was assigned to from Basic training. Tight quarters, in the suface Navy too. More stories I have written about.

At the local seaport it was the same thing I experienced decades ago at sea, but with a complete satisfaction this time. Myself and Julie were broke when we left this seaport but very pleased at the experience. Breakfast with linen and several courses of souffle and perfectly baked rolls and new forks after every course. Ocean front views from the sumptuous room and a steam bath in the bathroom. Unbelievable waterfront gardens and gracious servants and hosts. Expensive. Worth it as you can surmise.

A short walk to the port itself with more things to buy and shops eagerly extending welcomes at their Doors. Glassblowing, exotic ice cream concoctions, carriage rides and fountains akin to Trevi in Rome. A violin shop in a large building with expensive instruments and a very erudite and friendly proprietor. Excellent wares and again, money given with satisfaction by us. A very nice instrument built with Spalded wood that Julie was eager to play.

The best part was when I began to connect and experience God’s presence among the throngs that were present when a ship bigger than my Navy ones was leaving port. Close up at the seawalls at the canal as the ship slowly steamed by. Watching the churning aft as it headed out to sea.This time the hatches secure with the loaded iron ore. Sea gulls circling for the anticipated food preparation aftermath. Of course, there is spilled popcorn for them near the breakwater too.

It was pleasant with the crowds, the best part was that I recognized people that were in love. Something about them would prompt me to boldly approach these strangers and state: “You love Jesus, don’t you!” One hundred percent response that day. A small sign, even a cross seen or the glimpse of a lingering smile. The upturned cheek line perhaps. Mostly a prompt from the Holy Spirit to tell them. Several older women remarked; “How did you know?!” “It shows” I would respond. There was audible delight as they would turn to a companion excitedly and begin smiling as they talked.

It was easy this time, the place was full of believers. They were Just experiencing the joy of spring and a lot of freedom. Faces exposed now and seen with joy. It’s pretty good. Jack Gator Scribe