104. Goodbye Most Enjoyable Japanese Hospitality

I didn’t return to Tokyo.  I was happy enough to visit Yokohama here and there and then, only for day & evening excursions.  The decision to spend however many remaining nights we had in Japan on board the ship, I knew would be the right call.  

Reiterating here, I wasn’t going to miss the boat.  Under normal conditions, we’d always begin our next leg of the trip in the early morning hours and so, this way there would be no unpleasant surprises for me! 

While I was waking up in my cabin every morning, Skipper and most of the officers and crew were still spending their nights somewhere out there.

Myself and a few of the other crew members (foolish enough to be aboard when we should’ve been out painting the town!) under Phil’s directive authority had been assigned to put away the last of the freshly received food and some other supplies.  

This entailed going below decks.  Needless to say, I’d done this before but never would I be one to state taking a fancy to it.  This is where I label myself as claustrophobic.  

Deep freeze and the main storehouse were of course, down there, in the underbelly of the ship as far as I was concerned and so to go there, I must.  I will clearly state, 40 minutes was way too long!

Notice of the next departure schedule is always posted 24 hours in advance via the bulletin boards around the ship.  This of course offers the chance to collect absent crew members and make final preparations, among many other important & obvious reasons.


In this instance it was in the form of direct notification from the ship repair company. 

The Trans Western’s endorsement was posted to its immediate left.

注目する すべての修理は、今後24時間以内に完了します

TAKE NOTICE: ALL REPAIRS WILL BE COMPLETE WITHIN THE NEXT 24 HOURS

The late afternoon, early evening hours would bring in the remaining crew.  I thought to myself, someone had to have gone out and sent word across the land about the Trans Western’s anticipated departure.  

I had a last moment’s thought to go out and off the ship for the final time before leaving our Japanese dry dock.  I wanted to experience the staggering scope of this ship I’d been traveling the Pacific on, for one last time.

Down the gangplank I walked.  Once again I moved several yards away from the ship herself and then turned around to look upon the magnitude of this, soon to be floating again, steel vessel.  

Awestruck at its massiveness to be sure!  I thought to myself this must be at least as high as a 5 or 6 storied building.  If only I’d taken some pictures.  

The last of the crew was returning to the ship.

Back aboard the ship, I saw the Skip at dinner in the saloon.  With a grin upon his face he asked me, “Well Fiji, did you have a good time here in Japan?”  Just as a smile was escaping my lips and before I could give reply, he answered for me, “Awe, I know you did!”

Shortly after enjoying my own dinner and clearing the saloon, I saw the bulletin which announced, all repairs had been completed.  We were heading home by way of San Francisco. 

The Trans Western would depart first thing in the morning.   

I almost completely forgot about the postcards which I picked up in Tokyo!  I really wanted them to be mailed from Japan and so, I hurried off to write them out.  There was a bittersweet feeling as I wrote them.

I guess Phil just knew it would be like this; he told us there’d be a final mail pick-up this evening.  Turns out, this wasn’t the only thing going on this evening.  

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89. Quy Nhơn Chicken 🐓

The next morning, in conversation with Chief Steward Phil, he liked very much the thought of tailor-made slacks too.  He asked if I wouldn’t mind taking care of the transaction for him.  I offered a smile attached to a ‘No problem chief!’ and so he scribbled his measurements on a slip of paper and handed it to me with a few dollars from his wallet.

It may be only the 2nd time I went ashore but it felt like I’d already done it a hundred times.  Hot and muggy was the forecast for, like the entire time I would be here so naturally there was an ongoing thirst for ice cold beers!  🍻

Upon reaching shore, my first order of business was a detour to the Indian shop delivering CS’s order and measurements.  I was told 36 hours should see all the slacks ready.  

The first establishment we chose to walk into had a few people sitting at the bar, others were seated at tables; the majority of bodies being young Vietnamese girls and music played crisply out of a jukebox up against a side wall.  No sooner we sat down at a table, we were flocked by some of these girls.

In what sounded like their best broken English they’d proposition us to buy drinks for them.  They took our drink requests which would only be beer 🍺 and went up to the bar.  No hard liquor or sodas even were served here.  

It would seem the sodas were reserved for drink in the cafés.  I gotta say, these bars certainly knew how to grab their share of business from the foreign visitors! 🍹 The girl’s drinks we bought for them (later we learned) was simply colored water and each one cost near twice the amount of our beers!  

In our socializing I learned the power of the American dollar in Việt Nam;  approximately $5.00 would cover feeding their entire family for a week and the impression we all got was they’d pretty much do anything for these dollars.  

Some girls smoked our cigarettes and others did not but all were quick to light ours for us.  They were skilled in giving a nice little massage here and there, arms, shoulders, neck and/or running their fingers through our hair.

I smiled big when I looked at one of the guys across the table from me … his eyes closed in sheer delight and grinning away as the girl on his lap was massaging his brain!  

The one girl attentive towards me began massaging my head, gently pulling on my hair (which I had lots of it), of course it felt nice. 

The guys and I continued to talk amongst ourselves for the most part as we could tell they weren’t about to leave our company so easily.  It was of little matter to them as they too conversed amongst themselves. 

“Tonight you stay with me and you pay,” one would say to her guy and another would verbally climb over that (sometimes literally) and using as persuasive a voice as possible, “No! You come with me!”  We each heard this approach circulate around our table.

🍻 After a few beers and a considerable amount of dollars later, I noticed it was getting dark.  We all agreed it was time for food. A couple of us made sure to keep an eye on the time, curfew is definite, there was only one boat back and make no mistake, we’d best be on it! 

The girls collected a few dollars from each of us and a couple of them went quickly outside, coming back with some freshly prepared chicken for us to eat.  

It was made in a street kitchen just outside the bar.  Of course they ate with us.  The chicken was flayed open, seasoned, cooked between two racks over an open flame and it was delicious. 🍗

“Now we go home.” they’d say to us, gently tugging at our arms.  “No, no! We’ve got to get back to our ship!” protested a couple of the guys; definitely speaking for all of us in the group. 

We promised them we’d return tomorrow and breaking free at last, we headed as swiftly as possible through the town and down to the beach.  

We remained in the Qui Nhơn harbor for just over a week.  The best description of my daily routine on the ship; same, same.

Every early evening almost immediately following the dinner shift and next morning’s prep, I’d scurry down that rope ladder to catch the boat into town.  

Returning to the same bar as before, these girls who overnight became our friends, were waiting for our return.  

On the fifth day I picked up the slacks; lookin’ good!  After the shopkeeper showed them to me, I paid him and he wrapped them up so nicely, knowing they would have to travel a very long way.  

I asked him to wrap up the Phil’s slacks separately.  I noticed the shop had some postcards amongst their wares so I bought a few;  one for Diana and my kids and some for the family in Fiji.  

Back at the bar which we had made our own for the week, our company had now become more like one on one, no longer flanked by many.  We’d play the jukebox, dance with the girls, eat chicken, socialize, drink beer, and generally let our hair down as it were; wanting only a little bit of fun and relaxation.  

We remained diligent to the curfew at the end of every evening and always managed to wiggle away from our friends just in time.

A couple of days before our ship pulled up anchor, I was able to send out those postcards from our ship’s post office.  By now I was confident that half of my ‘war-zone pay’ salary, the 1st paycheck, was already on its way to my family in Santa Monica, via the pay center in New York.  

You know I felt great that I was providing for my family even while on this other side of the world but I never thought my life would go down a path like this one.  

While I cannot even compare to the soldiers’ lives here in Việt Nam at this time, I certainly was learning to understand a small piece of it.

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A coastal town located in central Việt Nam, Quy Nhơn wasn’t established as a city until 1986 and it is home in the Bình Định Province.