U.S.S. Midway: Containment Holding Tanks & Worms

While touring the brig aboard the U.S.S. Midway, I noticed a number of pipes running along the walls and ceiling. One was labeled Waste, another Soil, another Photo Lab. 

Speaking with a docent later in the Engine room, he confirmed that the lines carried chemicals and other undesirable substances to holding tanks. The Soil stood for sewage, which would end up in Containment Holding Tanks (CHT), where it would be treated, before being dumped when the ship reached port. He said he served aboard the USS Peleliu, named for another WWII battle. For a time, he had overseen the CHT department. 

He claimed that the CHTs were filled with worms, and as they filled with sewage, the worms went to town. As they fed on the waste matter, they grew in size and length. When the ship arrived in port and dumped the sewage that the worms had treated, the worms gradually shrank. If they didn't receive enough new sewage to feed on, the crew in charge of the CHTs had to give them some kind of nourishment to sustain them. 

I asked the man what kind of worms they used in the CHTs, but he didn't know. Later, I searched out the matter online, but didn't find any references to the subject. My wife uses Earthworms in the compost bin to clean up some of the waste our household generates. It would be interesting to know what kind of worms they used aboard Naval vessels to clean up other types of waste.

Then again, another docent listened to our conversation, and twice he broke in with a smile to suggest that the next time we toured the Midway, we should wear tall boots. At the time, I wondered what he meant. But on reflection...

Dragon Dave

U.S.S. Midway: Personal Space & the Forecastle

Recently, my wife and I visited the U.S.S. Midway, a retired aircraft carrier named for the famous Battle of Midway waged six months after the attack on Pearl Harbor. As we waited to board, two Japanese tourists cut in line to join up with other members of their group. They didn't ask us to move aside. They didn't tap us on the shoulder. The man simply barged past us, and the woman pressed against my back with her purse until I looked back and moved aside. Then the two lagged behind to take a photograph together. Then they walked closely behind us, the woman pressing her purse against my back, as we navigated the rest of the line.

Touring any old ship involves navigating through narrow hallways, and for some reason, the Japanese group seemed locked onto us. If we bypassed a given room to get away from them, so did they. If we stuck around an area to wait them out, they stuck around with us. The woman who had pressed into my back with her purse did so twice more during this time. Finally, we grabbed a bench in the vessel's forecastle (also known as the fo'c's'le), listened to the spiel on our audio guide twice, and waited them out. 

After the group left, my wife and I walked along the mammoth chains, each link weighing in at 140 pounds, and imagined them whizzing past us at 45-50 miles per hour when they dropped their twenty ton anchors into the sea. After that, we occasionally saw the group, but they never clung to us like roadies fawning over rockstars (or fans over favorite authors) again.

I thought it odd that the Japanese tourists seemingly had no regard for our personal space. Perhaps it's a cultural thing. I also thought it strange that people would travel all the way from Japan, and spend some of their limited vacation time to visit a naval vessel named for a battle that proved decisive in their nation losing World War II. It might have been interesting to ask them about that, had they not crowded us so, and given us some indication that they spoke English.

Dragon Dave

Ling’s Courage

In Dr Gregory Benford’s novel The Stars in Shroud, the alien Quarm has attacked the human race with a psychological virus.  Like most of Earth’s citizens, Ling, his wife Angela, and his children Chark and Romana spend their days locked inside their apartment, afraid to leave.  Some people have accepted their condition, and undertaken “frontal lobe taps” that program individuals for utility in completing specific tasks.  But Ling has resisted such a permanent solution.  Rather, he believes in his inherent strength to endure the unreasoning fears that beset him.  And in time, he finds himself venturing out on lone expeditions: not just into the apartment building’s hallways, but onto Earth’s deserted streets.  One day he is apprehended, and escorted to Fleet Central.

Ling was once a starship captain, and his capabilities are highly valued.  As he is one of the first to fight off the virus, his skills are needed.  Ling returns to his apartment, where he discusses the job he has been offered with Angela.  Fleet needs a new Base Commandant in the far off Veden System.  As yet, there is no sign that the Quarm virus has reached the planet, but it could afflict the Hindic colonists there at any time.  This is an important assignment, for the base at Veden manages the Flinger, which aids in transporting ships and cargo to other Fleet worlds.  Were the Flinger to fall into Quarm hands, it would be impossible for Fleet to service and guard all of the worlds that humanity has colonized.

A Soldier's Sacrifice

It tears at his heart when Angela begs him not to abandon them.  He knows he would miss his family terribly.  But Angela is a prisoner in her home, and all Chark and Romana have is their TV.  Not only must the Flinger be guarded, but also there is a mystery to be solved.  Why have the Hindic population shown no signs of infection, when the Quarm virus has nearly brought all Fleet worlds to a standstill?  Not only does he feels a duty to the human race, but he wants to bring about a better world for his children.  One in which they will no longer be afraid of the outdoors, but be capable of pursuing any future they desire.

Touring the USS Midway

Although I visited the recruitment offices of three branches of our nation’s military, my life-journey followed a different path.  While I might never have become the captain of a naval vessel (or for that matter commanded a starship during wartime), I have wondered how a soldier’s experience might have changed me.  Might it have better prepared me to take on the challenges associated with getting my fiction published?  If I possessed more courage, for example, might I have been less fearful of rejection, and thus submitted my earlier manuscripts to more publishers before giving up on them?  If I was more disciplined, might I have worked longer each day on my writing, and spend more time writing new stories rather than endlessly rewriting old ones?  If I had learned how to be more determined and persistent, might I now have more useful contacts in the literary community?

One thing I do know.  Ling’s determination to battle past debilitating fear gives me greater faith in my own abilities.  His belief that he can help build a better world for humanity (as well as his family) helps me dare to believe that my writing may someday benefit those who read it.  His decision to leave behind all he knows and loves, to try something totally new in a faraway locale gives me hope.  For if one man can do all that, then my goal of finishing (and selling!) my novel about a dragon seems much more achievable.

How does Ling's example speak to your life?

Dragon Dave: Fighter Pilot?

A related Dragon Cache entry, and other profiles of courage:

Defined By Fear

A Quiet Man in the Star Wars Universe

A Fictional Role Model?