Motion Sickness

Long, pointless ramble about being on a troop ship fifty years ago.

Some recent blogs I follow have mentioned motion sickness.

I’m fortunate in not suffering greatly from motion sickness. The exception is when I’m nervous or stressed. Don’t do carnival rides; don’t enjoy them at all.

My one and only experience with deep water travel was aboard a military transport ship, the General Maurice Rose. January, North Atlantic, Brooklyn to Bremerhaven. Having never been near a body of water bigger than the Great Salt Lake and aboard a boat bigger than 20’ long on a lake, I anticipated suffering.

We boarded via a gang plank (proper term?) from the Brooklyn Army Yard dock to a door (hatch) about two thirds up the hull. Said gang plank was flexing under the weight of several men with their duffel bags ascending, had no railings, and wasn’t very wide. That was scary! As I recall, we were four decks down from the main deck. There were a series of compartments we were directed toward; me towards the stern. We were told to find a bunk (rack) and put our duffel bags on a hatch cover.

I’ve always tried to analyze every situation I’ve found myself in. These compartments had a series of canvas “beds” stretched in metal frames, about eight high, running the length of the  ship. At the end of the compartment was a bulkhead (?) with beds running across the width of the ship.  My analysis was (1) puke runs downhill so being on a bottom bunk wouldn’t be ideal and (2) the ship would roll with greater amplitude than it would pitch. No one but me wanted the top most bunk against many pipes and other oddities. While a challenge to get into, it was comfortable and had enough room to sleep on my side (carefully). The first night out proved my analysis was correct.

Certain I would get sick when the conditions got “rough” I waited for it to get “rough”. Whenever I felt the onset of vertigo, I would tell myself it wasn’t rough enough for me to get sick. Sounds silly, but it worked for me. Guess it did get “rough” as the nine day trip took fourteen days. Most days we were forced to stay on the open deck; in my case, the stern. Amidships was the enclosed area for military dependents and officers. Probably right up there with regular transoceanic ships as to fittings and amenities. The contrast with our plight was galling. We only went below, for meals,  until 2100. A few days we weren’t allowed on deck due to sea conditions.

Some unfortunate souls were sick the entire trip. We tried to cheer them up by telling them how good the food was (and we were well fed). Since they were already sick, they got assigned to the cleaning crews. I understood the troops going to Korea were at sea for almost a month. Lucky them.

My only real complaints were (1) no chairs - no where to sit except the deck - and (2) the head. A long stainless steel appliance with holes and indentations around the holes approximately buttock shaped served for waste evacuation.  Under this, a trough with sea water flowed at  high volume. Cold sea water. No need for toilet paper as the appliance worked as both a commode and bidet as the ship rolled. Not conducive to sitting and reading.

We did have movies! One open area, where we sat on the deck,  with a sheet taped to the bulkhead, top only taped. As the ship rolled, the picture would go in and out of focus. Helped those suffering for motion sickness. After a couple of days, I got pissed, found some tape, and taped the bottom of the damn sheet.

Some friends had coached me prior to going into the Army. One lesson, always remove your name tag when you are in transit. When questioned by authority, “My gear was lost, and this was issued to me”, got a “Ok, what is your name”?,  followed by an assignment to some shit detail or another. Being red headed and freckled, I would give an Irish or Polish name - not my own - and never show up for the detail. Like the NCO would remember my face or even care. He  was in transit too and didn’t like being in charge of the shit detail. It helps to be adept at hiding. Be just one minnow in the middle of the school. Also, be able to lie with a straight face.

“Private, why are you here? You were assigned to KP.”

“No sergeant, I’m on stairwell cleaning.”

“Yeah, what’s your name”?

“Duffy, Sergeant”.

And so on.

Then the P.A. call. “Private _____ _ ____, Serial Number  RA_________, report to the Sergeant Major’s Office.” Oops, duffel bag fell on the deck. Or was put there by someone who was jealous?  Nah, everyone liked me.  Oh well, it was a good run.

My one, and only, motion sickness episode was on a charter boat off Grays Harbor, WA. A company “bonding” function. Forty foot boat, fifteen foot swells. Was fine underway but when we started drifting I understood why the boats are called “pukers”. After about three hours of it, said, “Fuck it”, and started drinking beer. The beer stayed down, I got drunk, and ended the trip in a fist fight with the bean counter. Career enhancement, team bonding. Probably not in the MBA handbook.

Have nothing but respect for those who served, or are serving, in the Navy or Coast Guard. Just never wanted to be one of them. Being a power boat operator in an Army float bridge company was a close as I ever cared for the Navy life.