After our ship, USS NUECES (APB-40) had left the Mekong River, we anchored of Cape Vung Tau before heading up the Saigon River to Nha Be.  Vung Tau was known as Vietnam's "Riviera."  It had pristine white sand beaches and sparkling turquoise waters.  We anchored about a mile off shore.

 

I wandered by the quarterdeck on my way to evening chow.  The starboard side accomodation ladder was down and the watch was looking over the lifelines (safety railings attached to the deck).

 

"I don't think I want to go swimming here," he said. 

 

"Why's that?"

 

"Take a look (pointing)." 

 

What I saw was a huge colony of Portugese Men-of-War.  These jelly fish were nasty, even after they'd died.  The Man-of-War had a long string of tentacles that hung down beneath it.  These tentacles had stinging spines.  The stings would paralyze fish that swam too close and the tentacles would then bring the paralyzed fish to the jelly fish's mouth where it would be eaten.  The Man-of-War's body was large and the area formed a natural sail.  Jelly fish would move along in colonies where the wind blew them.  If the jelly fish was blown ashore (and subsequently died), it was still dangerous because the tentacles still contained venom that could -- and did -- cause painful injuries to the unwary person that stepped on them with bare feet.

 

We chatted for about twenty minutes, he resumed his watch, and I went to chow.  It so happened that I had the midwatch (0000 to 0400) that night. 

 

The messenger of the watch woke me about 2330 and I quickly got dressed and made my way to the quarterdeck.  The first thing my watchstander asked me was: "Do you know how to assemble a .45?"  My response was: "That depends.  What did you do?"

 

Both of us walked through the hatch into a small cubby hole with a podium, and log book.  He pulled out the drawer on the podium and there was the .45 pistol -- completely disassembled -- not field stripped, but DISASSEMBLED.

 

"Ah, just exactly, how did it get that way?

"Well, I was bored and so I decided to detail disassemble it.  Can you put it back together?"  The thought struck me that he looked like the younger brother that had gotten caught raiding the cookie jar and was pleading with is older brother to make it right before mom got home.

 

"Yup.  I can put it all back together for you.  Just remember, you owe me one for this."

 

"You bet.  Thanks, Gunner."  He then signed the deck log over to me for the next four hour watch.  I spent the next 20 minutes putting his efforts back together and checking it out.  Everything worked as it was supposed to do.  It was an interesting diversion for an otherwise boring watch.