“The Roughest Ships in the Navy”

One thing I always wondered about . . . how frequently do newly enlisted seamen in the Navy get seasickness? Is it common, or infrequent enough for those who do to get razzed about it?

Elmer’s letter of January 30, 1941 answered that question. His ship arrived in Pearl a day earlier after patrolling the neutral zone, and the crew soon discovered that “the old ‘Chew’ didn’t ride as smoothly as the big old Lexington. In fact, destroyers are the roughest ships in the navy.” Grandpa did not sugarcoat the experience. “Of course, little Elmer was [not] feeling up to par at first,” he recalled, “but he stuck it out and by Tuesday night [he] was feeling fine.” He estimated that three fourths of the crew was seasick. “So I had company.” Elmer also predicted that they would all “get used to it in a few trips.”

The Chew was not only out to sea in order to patrol the surrounding waters and shakedown its new crew. “We had many battle drills, fire drills, gunnery practice and everything in general,” wrote Elmer. The ship was slowly beginning its preparation for the coming war, which included moving and operating in the dark. “The lights all went out at 6:30 every night, and I would sit on the top deck and look at the stars and sky. It was so soothing and comforting. It is really a wonderful feeling. The old salty sea air smell.”

Elmer also related his first impressions of Honolulu. “Pretty nice town,” he thought, “but very Oriental. Most of the people are Chinese and Japanese.” Admittedly, his experience with “Oriental” towns and neighbors was limited, and his perception was of course shaped by having spent most of his life in the mostly French and German-influenced city of Saint Louis. But Honolulu was already well on its way to becoming a cosmopolitan metropolis and an important cultural and economic nexus between America, Asia, and Oceania. Native Hawai’ian culture was palpable as well, and his friends and family had already began expressing their curiosity about it. Pat wrote him asking for a grass skirt – “she’s a good kid and deserves it.”

The letter closed with Elmer assuring his mother that he “will always make you proud to have me for a son,” and telling his father to not worry about him “pulling AWOL – I know better than that.” Although I have not located the letter which prompted this curious defense, it is hard to imagine Elmer deciding to leave his post. Temperamentally, as well as officially, he was committed to serving in the Navy.

Besides, between his duties aboard the Chew and his adventures on the Island of Oahu . . . where could he even go? It is a good thing that seasickness is a temporary condition, because Elmer wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon.