A long time ago, I was in the US Navy.

For most of my four year hitch I was stationed on a ship that went all over the place. This is it..

USS Fanning, Knox Class Frigate

It was called the USS FANNING. If you do a Google search for it, you end up with a lot of pictures of this ship and actress Dakota Fanning..

Dakota Fanning, Knox Class Actress

I’m sure she’s a very nice young woman, but as far as I know she has little to do with the US Navy, so I’m going to tell you about something that happened one day aboard the ship called USS FANNING and we’ll talk about the actress DAKOTA FANNING some other day.

One of my duties aboard the USS FANNING was to be a “forward lookout.” I stood on a deck called the “signal bridge” which was basically the roof of the “pilot house” and watched the ocean for other ships, boats and planes that might get in our way.

While doing a search for photos of the USS FANNING, I came upon this groovy picture of an officer and crew inside the pilot house..

Bridge of the USS Fanning

The site this photo came from says this picture was taken in 1988, which I hate to admit is a few years after my time aboard, so I don’t know the guys who are shown. But hey, I spent a lot of time right where the smiley guy is standing because it’s the helm, where you steer the ship. I did that a lot, along with forward lookout. I was a regular renaissance seaman.

The picture gives you an idea of what it looks like in the pilot house. It’s also commonly known as “the bridge” and on either side there is a door that lets out to a “bridge wing,” which is a tiny little open-air deck that’s only about twenty square feet in size. There is a port bridge wing (left side) and starboard bridge wing (right side).

That’s nautical talk, which is how you get to talk in the Navy if you join up!

Alright, so I got to reminiscing about all this the other day because I was perusing the internets and came across this photo of a whale, that was obviously taken during a whale-watching expedition..

Pretty cool, huh? You can see how big the whale is and how tiny the people are by comparison. These whales out off the coast aren’t like those wussy little performing whales at Seaworld, which are about the size of a boat or something. This brand of whale wouldn’t fit in their stadium and it could probably eat more than a hundred DAKOTA FANNINGS in one gulp.

Seeing this photo reminded me of the time I was standing forward lookout up there on the signal bridge above the pilot house, and I saw a whale.

We would always be seeing aquatic life out there on the ocean, like porpoises and dolphins (I was never sure which were which), seals and sea lions (those are easy to tell apart) and the occasional flock of seagulls with the lone, mysterious albatross. But we seldom saw whales.

We would occasionally get the whale that would break the surface a long way in front of us and we’d happen to see it for like four seconds and get all excited (DID YOU SEE THAT?? HELL YA MAN, THAT WAS COOL!) but they never really got close to us or did that whole jumping straight up out of the water thing to show off like those narcissistic Seaworld bastards.

All of that changed one afternoon when I was up on forward lookout as we cruised around off the California coast. It was a bright, sunny day and there were no other ships in the vicinity. I’d scan the horizon every few minutes with my binoculars because hey, I was the forward lookout, but otherwise I’d just kind of lean on the railing and enjoy the salt spray that kicked up as the ship plowed through the water.

Then I heard a strange noise coming from the starboard side of the ship. “Pssssst!” I wandered over to investigate, fully expecting to see a couple of guys from the bridge standing out on the starboard bridge wing doing something weird, which wouldn’t be the first time, but instead I saw something alongside the ship, down past the bridge wing in the water.

It was the biggest damned whale EVER, and it looked a lot like the one in the photo. Here it is again..

Maybe the years have tainted my memory but I’d swear this one was even bigger. I estimated it to be about a third the length of the USS FANNING. Here’s that picture of the ship again..

So yeah, this was a pretty good sized whale. The problem was, I was the only one seeing it.

I wore a headset with a microphone to stay in contact with the people on the bridge, so I called down..

“Bridge, forward lookout, check out this whale on our starboard side, man! No kidding, it’s right over the bridge wing, just step out and look down because you have got to see this!”

“Rhodes, you are so not getting me to step out on the bridge wing. Knock it off.”

I didn’t get along with the bridge phone-talker, whose name, ironically, was “Waterman,” because he was basically a horse’s patootie. So I ran to the port side and looked down because I’d heard voices in conversation a few moments before.

The officer of the deck was standing on the port bridge wing talking to the boatswain’s mate of the watch. Yes, people get interesting titles in the Navy, which is another reason you should join up!

“Excuse me sir, there’s a huge whale pacing us on the starboard side, it’s only about three or four meters out from the ship.. you’ve got to see this!”

The officer of the deck and the boatswain’s mate of the watch gave each other a look that seemed skeptical at best, but they disappeared under my feet to cross through the pilot house to the starboard bridge wing. But the whale was gone when they got there.

“Where, Rhodes?” The officer of the deck scanned the water, then looked further out and lifted his binoculars to his eyes.

“It was right there, sir. Seriously, it must have gone under because it was right alongside of us!”

He glanced up at me and nodded. “Well okay, let us know if it pops up again.”

“Will do sir.” He believed me! Maybe I was the only witness to it, but at least someone believed me and it was the officer of the deck to boot.

Minutes later it resurfaced again. I called down to Waterman on the headset and told him the officer of the deck had wanted to be informed when the whale returned. He reluctantly agreed to pass it on.

“PSSSSST! PSSSST!” It was blowing air out the hole on top of its head so loudly, I was surprised nobody else heard it. Then it dove again as fast as it had reappeared, just before they emerged onto the starboard bridge wing. They lingered and looked but the creature was nowhere in sight and Waterman, who had come out for a look too, wore a smirk that showed how all three of them felt.

“Rhodes, are you messing with us?” The officer of the deck looked up at me.

“No sir, really.. it’s been there twice now, maybe it’s going under and popping back up for air.”

They all three went back into the pilot house with heads shaking.

I decided to stay on the starboard side for the rest of my watch. About ten minutes later I heard the now-familiar ”PSSSST!” and looked down to see my new friend once again pacing alongside. Nobody was on the bridge wing. I started to press the button on the headset but then thought better of it. I looked around, no-one was on the signal bridge with me either. I was alone with the most amazing creature I’d ever seen.

I said hello to the tricky leviathan and got another “pssst!” in reply. I wanted to name it and I would have named it “Dakota” but she hadn’t been born yet, so I named it “Esther.” We watched each other for a few more minutes before another big gulp of air was taken and Esther slipped quietly below the surface for the third and final time.

Waterman didn’t let-up on me after we’d been relieved from watch. Down in the crew’s rec lounge he teased without mercy about the forward lookout reporting phantom whales that day, and he got a few laughs. I didn’t mind, it was worth it. I’d met someone magnificent who I’d never meet again, and for a moment in time that many years ago we shared something special.

I thought of Esther going back to her herd and being teased about the lone seaman she connected with on that passing ship, then her blogging about it many years later, using that huge qwerty keyboard designed for flippers the size of small trucks. We have a connection, Esther and I, while the Watermans of this world and the whale Watermans of the undersea world continue to scoff and doubt.

It’s too bad for them, because they never hear that greeting from a mystical new friend, who slips in for only moments at a time and departs just as abruptly, leaving a lasting impression after blowing air out their holes.

“Pssst!”

Simply magical.

I once made a living as a mime.

This was a long time ago – 20 years and 20 pounds, I tell people – but I haven’t had a job since that’s been as challenging, memorable and fun.

SeaWorld of San Diego has this ongoing Seal & Otter show that’s been around in one form or another since the sixties. The show changes story and format every few years, but I’m not going to talk about the show today.

Maybe some other post, because today I’m going to tell you about Michael and Saj. Those are two guys who met each other one day long ago, but I’m the only one who finds it ironic.

Until now, because you will too when I’m done.

Michael was a former Ringling Bros circus clown who’d been hired as a Mime but then promoted to show producer. He was a funny guy, and by that I mean HYSTERICAL. He still took the stage once in a while to fill-in when someone wanted a day off and when he did, he’d hand the audience their balls on a platter.

One day I only had a few people show up. The stadium held 1200, so when you only have 12 people sitting there watching you perform that’s one percent, and that’s enough to be a downer. I went out and did some of my funnier bits for them but it basically sucked and they applauded politely as if to say, “HAHA, very nice. Now get the hell out of the way and bring on the dancing otters.”

I left the show feeling kind of drained and ran right into Michael behind the scenes. He was carrying his clipboard while wearing a tie and showing appropriate concern that I seemed blue, and not the bouncy, happy mime I was supposed to be. He asked how the show went and when I told him about the 12 people he told me about an audience he had only a week earlier when filling in for someone else.

He said it was cold and drizzling rain, and he knew it’d be slow, so he hoped nobody would show up and he’d not have to do a show. But there they were, two teenage boys and a girl who climbed to the very last row at the top of the 1200 seat stadium, sitting in the drizzle and waiting to be entertained.

So he entertained them.

He pretended to be a mountain climber when he first came out, swinging an invisible pick and pulling on an imaginary rope to make his way up to them. That ate up the first five minutes of his routine so once he got up there he stood on the empty bench in front of them and offered up a silent yet panic-stricken prayer to his muse for ten minutes of inspiration.

It came.

He said he didn’t know how it came or from where, but dammit.. he was funny. Those kids laughed and clapped and had a great time, as Michael stood on that bench and did silly shit that he couldn’t recall when telling me about all of this a few days later.

His point was that if I’d just trust in my inspiration and let it flow through me, I’d be able to do it for one, one hundred, one thousand or a million people.. just let it be. Obviously, I’ve always remembered the story because it had an impact on me.

That was in 1988.

Fast forward to 1998 – coffeesister and I lived in Ashland Oregon. I was doing sound design for a local theater group and a young guy named Saj was doing lighting. After we’d finished our show set-up one evening, Saj came over to our place and we sat around drinking beer and swapping stories.

Turns out he was from California. Turns out he visited SeaWorld once with some friends.

Turns out it was while on spring break in 1988.

I’d told Saj I used to perform at the Seal & Otter Show as a mime, so he was telling me about the mime he saw.

He said it was a drizzling Monday and the place was virtually empty. After he and his two friends made their way to the top of the stadium the mime came out and did some kind of mountain climber bit to get up to them, followed by ten minutes of delightful comedy on the bench directly in front.

Saj, his buddy and his buddy’s girlfriend all thought it was hysterical.

After he told me this I asked, “Did you guys see the mime in another part of the park later and go up to thank him for doing a whole routine just for you?”

Yes, they did.

Michael had told me about that part too.. how the three kids came up to him later and said they really appreciated him doing the entire bit just for them.

I told Saj about Michael and his inspirational story ten years earlier. Here we were, a decade later and 500 miles further North, sitting in stunned silence for a few minutes until coffeesister finally laughed and suggested that perhaps now would be a good time to go buy a lottery ticket.

I did, but I didn’t win.

Steven Wright once said, “It’s a small world, but I’d hate to have to paint it.”

Me too.