During my time at sea in 1994 and 1995 I learned a great deal about the seafaring traditions that give the maritime life its great character and flavor. I am proud to say that I am a trusty shellback, having crossed the Equator not once but four times aboard ship. One becomes a shellback after going through a unique initiation ceremony that involves a great deal of custom, tradition, and, well, ingenuity on the part of the initiating crew. Sailing in Brazilian waters shortly after my initiation in 1994, I quickly learned of the international flavor of the maritime traditions; in short these provide a common ground (if you will) that make it very easy for sailors from varied nations to share their sea stories and tales.
That said, there are several traditions within the US Navy that give a particular appeal and camaraderie to our service. For example, young Marines embarked on amphibious ships transiting the Straits of Gibraltar will often be called to the deck of the ship, handed baseball bats and instructed to ensure that none of the Gibraltar apes are allowed to board the ship. The fact that the ships pass several hundred yards from shore is not introduced for consideration in this. In the days of steam-powered engine plants, newly reported personnel would frequently be handed a bucket and sent to the engineering section of the ship to collect a "bucket of steam," with very explicit instructions to not return to their duty station until the task was complete. Nowadays they are more likely to be sent off to collect twenty feet of waterline, or to stand the "mail buoy watch" on the bow of the ship.
During our first underway during my deployment in 1994, the more seasoned officers on our staff spoke eloquently of the "green flash," supposedly a bright shot of green that would appear on the horizon just as the sun set below the edge where sky and water meet. I spent a number of evenings on the main deck of our ship, gazing at the setting sun and hoping to see this elusive maritime phenomenon. In 1999 I moved to Monterey, CA and my mom and I spent a memorable evening sitting on the edge of our continent, eyes out across the Pacific, hoping to see the famed Green Flash.
I never have seen one and to be honest I'm not sure that it is an actual phenomenon. It may just be one of those shared myths, a story made up to give lonely Sailors something to think about as they scan the horizon looking for and thinking of home.
The other night here in Manhattan I discovered a different green flash. The Blind Tiger Ale House in the West Village serves a Green Flash IPA, brewed by a small company on the west coast. Drop in some time and find your own green flash!
