When we were young kids,
Poppa was out to sea for
months at a time. The longest period of time he was at sea was nine months,
and tours of duty of four to five months were common. It was therefore quite
a momentous occasion whenever he returned home. The entire family would turn
out at dockside to await his arrival.
Momma
would dress all of the girls in our Sunday best, complete with gloves, hats,
and our little plastic purses. Then we all would pile into the blue station
wagon along with our boxer dog, Honeybuckets, and make the long trip
down the keys to the naval base at Key West.
Once we had arrived at
the dock we girls would be on our best behavior, straining to see our father
in the midst of all the uniformed men on the deck of his
submarine. We would all get so excited whenever we finally saw him!
On one of these occasions,
our dog Honey saw Poppa and
was so overcome with joy that she jumped out the car window and came tearing
down the dock pell mell, making a beeline for her beloved master. Unfortunately,
she could not stop in time and skid past our father
and right off the end of the dock, down 20 feet to the deisel-infused water.
Poor Honey! We were very distressed to see her paddling around down there,
so small next to the huge ships. Poppa
threw off his hat, kicked off his shoes and socks, and dove off the end of the
dock to save Honey! It was a very scary height to me, from the dock to the
water, and such a surprise to see him
swimming in his khaki uniform. Some sailors went out in a boat to bring him
and the dog in to shore. Honey was so happy to see Poppa;
she was shivering and licking him all over his face and hands.
