My Journal by Harriman Nelson- Lean on Me

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My Journal

By Harriman Nelson

18

“Well, he sure don’t look like no Viking,” Cookie said, pouting, as Kowalski taped the internet photo into the new scrapbook in the crew’s mess.

“No, but he does kind of look, like, happy, man,” Riley said. “Hey, Admiral,” he added as he caught me passing by in the companionway. “Wanta’ take a look at the skipper as a Viking? Mrs. Piccadilly took some pictures that went viral...way cool.”

I accepted the invitation, and spent the next few minutes leafing through the makeshift scrapbook, which was plastered with pictures, articles, and even some sketches and cartoons the crew had made of their skipper in various stages of his tour.

“There it is, sir,” Ski said, of the picture of Lee in profile at the bow of the replica ship, horned helmet on his head, and his hair, what hadn’t been shorn off for his stitches, that is, blowing in the breeze.

“Kinda’ like when he’s in the conning tower,” Riley said. “I wonder what he had for lunch...and what we will, ” he added with a hint of worry.

“Don’t worry,” I said, “I’m sure we don’t have any Sheep’s Head or Lutefisk aboard.”

“No, but the mess specialists were, like, talking about maybe Tuna & Scrambled Eggs.”

“That sounds too disgusting for even Cookie to attempt. By the way, did you enjoy the Butter Cookies last night?”

“Well, yeah, they were okay, but, frankly sir, if he was gonna’ make cookies why not some good 100% American stuff like Chocolate Chip  or Peanut Butter Cookies?”

“It’s the spirit of the thing, kid,” Ski said. “The skipper’s in Norway, so Cookie wants us feel like we’re there too. Where’s he off to next, Admiral?”

“Belgium and the Netherlands.”

“Belgium?” Riley smacked his lips, “Belgian Waffles, here we come!”

“That does sound good,” I said, “I hate to say it, but we’re all going to get fat on this cruise. I've already started to gain a few pounds, I'm sure.”

“Admiral?” Ski said, suddenly serious. “Word’s out that maybe the skip’s...undercover?”

“Now, where on earth did you hear that?” I asked.

“Well, we cancelled that trip to Alaska, we’re on yellow alert and the skipper’s already in Europe.”

“Kowalski. Do you honestly think ONI would ask someone blind and injured to go on assignment? Besides, the captain’s retired from the Navy Reserve. He’s no longer on the roster for any naval or government agency.”

“Yeah, but you’re officially retired, but look at all the times they call you up....”

“That’s different. I'm designated Special Status. However, I do wish the captain would have listened to me and come home,” I said. “There’s nothing I can do to stop him from any independent...er... research.”

“Oh, I’m sure he listened, sir,” Ski said, “just decided against your...suggestion. Would you really have him be any other way, sir? He’d resent having to take a back seat. That’s just not him. If he thinks he might be able to help find this Ozno, well...good for him. If you don’t mind my saying so.”

“I don’t mind, Ski, I just wish...well...he does have a mind of his own, doesn’t he?” I grinned.

“Yes sir, he sure does,” Ski replied proudly. “It’ll be okay Admiral. You’ll see.”

“Thank you. Well, this is a very nice scrapbook... it will be a nice keepsake for him when it’s all done, even if others have to describe the contents for him. But I'm still hoping that his sight will return.”

“Yeah, and by the time he’s back, we’ll have several of them!”

“Do  you know if that museum had him touch those two skeleton broads?" Riley asked, "To figure out who they were?”

“No, I’m afraid there’s been no word about that.”

“Probably a good thing if he didn’t. I don’t think I’d like the idea of the skipper meeting up with more ghosts.”

“Ahem,” Chip said from the doorway, “Mrs. Piccadilly just posted an updated itinerary online. They’ve opted out of Belgium, next stop, the Netherlands. Land of tulips, wooden shoes, windmills and a town called Leyden in what  was formerly Holland. Where the pilgrims took refuge from England. She said, and I quote, that our ‘Cowboy Captain and his faithful sidekick, in full U.S. Naval uniform, will be headed to the Leyden American Pilgrim Museum, and then to the Mayflower Memorial at St. Peter’s Kirk honoring those who died prior to the Mayflowers sailing, to be followed by light meal including Hot Chocolate and the precursor of American doughnuts, the ancient Dutch fried dough called Olykoeks, along with  Rookwurst, a kind of smoked sausage, and Snert, a thick pea soup.’ Unquote. It went on to say the group was also planning to visit the local university and take a trip down one of the canals.”

“I guess that means we get to have freshly made doughnuts, none of that packaged kind,” Riley said, smacking his lips. “Like, man, I can hardly wait!”

“Better loosen our belts a notch,” Chip said, laughing.

 

I’m not sure just how different an Olykoek is from a modern doughnut, but I’m sure Cookie will try his best for authenticity. The soup, however, if he decides on it, will probably be the canned stuff, maybe with a few extra’s tossed like crumbled bacon, onion and carrots.

Yes, indeed, I’d better loosen my belt a couple of notches.

 

Entry #19