Sunset MOB

We're winding down the patrol (I can't believe I only have 6 more days of daily posts!), to the point now that I'm having to carefully plan out days to make sure we can get everything done we need to do. Meetings, boards, and drills are all getting crammed into the plan of the day.

So tonight, on the most sublime evening we have had this patrol, we had a MOB (man overboard), nighttime shipboard pick-up drill. BM1 C.P. flung Oscar (our MOB dummy) over the starboard side about six minutes after the green flash twinkled in the western sky. The water was glass all around us, with white puffy clouds reflecting brokenly off the port side, and an orange and silvery blue checkerboard following in our wake as the sun set behind us. ENS L.R. had the conn and maneuvered alongside Oscar within about 20 yards in less than four minutes -- a grand feat of precise shiphandling. Oscar was simulating HS2 T.W. having fallen overboard while he was the BMOW (Boatswains Mate of the Watch) doing his round on the foc'sle.

Unfortunately, our line handlers on deck need a little line throwing training, and had some difficulty crossing their heaving lines over Oscar, which would have stopped the clock for our drill. As they kept trying, we drifted slowly away from Oscar. Just about the time the heaving lines were too short to reach Oscar anymore, we got word on the bridge that the rescue swimmer was ready to deploy. SN N.E. got a sunset swimcall all to himself, in full rescue swimmer regalia (shorty wetsuit, mask/snorkel, fins and tending line), as he swam out about 150 yards to drag Oscar back to the ship. 

By the time we wrapped up the drill, Oscar had been in the water for 9 minutes, 30 seconds. We lost fifteen points out of 100 because we didn't get him recovered sooner. We also had some radio/communications issues with the team out on deck. But that's why we do drills -- to find out where our weaknesses are, and train to overcome them.

It was a particularly nice touch to finish the drill just as the horizon out in front of us disappeared into white. The only difference between the sky and the water was a subtle distinction of density. The water looked slightly thicker than the sky; otherwise they were the same color and nearly blended seamlessly into one another. Sunsets at sea will always live in my soul.

LCDR Charlotte Mundy
Executive Officer
USCGC DILIGENCE (WMEC 616)
**UNDERWAY**

Grumpy Pants

I've had my grumpy pants on all day long. They're tight in all the wrong places, and baggy in worse ones. They itch. And the zipper's broke, so I can't figure out how to get the damn things off.

For me, I think being grumpy is one of the worst conditions I can be as a leader. I like being pleasant, happy even. It makes it easier for people to come talk to me, even if they have bad news. I know I have a tendency to fly off the handle sometimes (usually) when something goes wrong or annoys me. So when I have my grumpy pants on, I fly higher and faster off that handle and tend to regret it later. Knowing that it happens can sometimes allay some of the effects, especially if I know something is going to tweak me. Like MPA joking at lunch about family separation allowance (FSA) -- I *knew* he was trying to get a reaction from me, and I did my very, very, very best not to let him. I squeaked instead of roared.

I also know that being grumpy sometimes is kinda inevitable. It happens. How do you know the highs if you don't have any lows? No rain, no rainbows. Being hangry typically plays a large part in my grumpiness. I'll sometimes let myself wallow in it for a couple hours, then get fed up (or just eat something) and bored with being grumpy and chivy myself out of it. We've had a fast and furious day today, so I haven't really had time to reflect on being over my grumpiness, so it's been lingering. Like a noxious fart in a stuffy room.

It's not fair for me to keep being grumpy on the ship, especially underway. The quarters are too close. People *have to* come talk to me. We're all in the same boat (literally), and while I have a ton of reasons for being grumpy, so does everyone else. They're not grumpy, why should I be?

Tomorrow's a brand new day. All kinds of possibilities for good and bad stuff to happen. Here's hoping the good stuff well out-weighs the bad...

LCDR Charlotte Mundy
Executive Officer
USCGC DILIGENCE (WMEC 616)
**UNDERWAY**

Full Power Trials

We have an annual requirement to conduct full power trials at least annually. What, you may ask, are full power trials? Full power trials are where the engineers bring the main diesel engines (MDEs) that provide propulsion to the ship to their maximum speed for at least an hour. 

We get to go fast -- really, really fa...well, 210s can't go really, really fast, but it's as fast as their big ol' lumbering MDEs can go. 

It's a pretty big deal. Not every ship can successfully complete full power trials. Many times the engines overheat or there's too much vibration or something else goes wrong that prevents a ship from achieving a full hour of top speed. Like the weather isn't perfect. We really have to have a nearly flat calm day to do full power trials, or else the waves and swells interact too much with the ship. We also can't make any turns for pretty much the same reason. 

Today, however, we had perfect conditions. It was FAC out (day, like, four of great weather -- we're getting spoiled!), our trackline stretched out endlessly in front of us, and we didn't have much else going on. 

It took a little while for the Engineers to take all the readings they needed in order to work up to the full power trials, but then, little by little, we increased speed. Until we hit Ludicrous Speed. 300 shaft rotations per minute (shaft rpms) causes the whole ship to shake and shimmy with excitement. I called the bridge at one point to ask if we were getting 300 shaft rpms; the OOD told me proudly we were at 300 rpms on both mains, and even up to 304 or 306 every now and again.

So congratulations to DILI's Main Propulsion division for their superb maintenance and care of the MDEs that allow us to coax the engines into peak performance!

LCDR Charlotte Mundy
Executive Officer
USCGC DILIGENCE (WMEC 616)
**UNDERWAY**

Saturday

It was a fairly normal Saturday onboard. We had Field Day this morning when we dedicate three-plus hours to cleaning up the ship. I stood watch on the bridge for a little while, but still managed to give my room a decent cleaning. Concurrently with the last hour or so of the Field Day, the Department Heads and I walked around for a Material Inspection, to look for things that need to be fixed, cleaned more or replaced onboard. We did the front half of the ship. I'll get the aft half on another Saturday.

Then Quarters. And then Holiday Routine for the afternoon. It's been a quiet-ish day. Plans have changed about six times over the course of the last four days, but that's nothing unusual. We'll see how long our current plan lasts.

LCDR Charlotte Mundy
Executive Officer
USCGC DILIGENCE (WMEC 616)
**UNDERWAY**

Swim Call

The stars finally aligned today for a swim call. The weather was beautiful. The XO relented on slave driving for the afternoon (>HEY! That's not fair!! We got more shit to do than we got time to do it! Don't blame me for trying to do my job!<). OPS didn't have immediate tasking we had to get to. Steel Beach was authorized, a cornhole tournament was in progress, and the fantail grill was in full burger and 'dog bbq mode. It was time to take our spiffy new Swim Call checklist for a test ride.

Swim calls are one of the major perks of being underway. Not many people get to safely swim in the very middle of the ocean, in water that is 1,700 meters deep, so salty you barely have to tread to stay afloat, and so clear that the depths disappear in to crystalline blue. 

We launch our small boat with a rescue swimmer onboard to help anyone who may find themselves in trouble. We post a shark watch on the bridge with an M16, just in case. We secure propulsion and steering. We make sure sewage is placed in holding (going into a tank onboard instead of over the side...EEEW!!!). We have someone monitor who goes in to the water, and counts them when they come out. We don't let people swim forward of the stripe or aft of the stern.

And then we let people jump off the small boat platform on the leeward side. There were some *spectacular* displays of grace and enthusiasm as people did flips and dives and twists and cannonballs...and some less spectacular displays of poor timing and worse coordination with belly flops and leg slaps. We have a number of new folks onboard, many of whom I'm sure this was their first swim call experience. They jumped in with gusto.

The jim buoys (large life rings with a cargo net in the middle, used for migrant ops) found their way into the water. They were enthusiastically used for lounging and playing king of the mountain...and toppling the king of the mountain. Someone brought out their football and people jumping off the boat deck tried valiantly, if unsuccessfully, to catch in on their way into the water. 

I stayed on the bridge, keeping an eye on things. I took QMOW for a little while so the regularly scheduled QMOW could enjoy the water. Sometimes it's more fun to watch people having fun. I laughed at their antics and enjoyed their enthusiasm. 

Swim call lasted for about an hour and a half. Then it was time to bring everyone back onboard and cradle the small boat. But there for a little while, we were children of the sea, reveling in her glory.

LCDR Charlotte Mundy
Executive Officer
USCGC DILIGENCE (WMEC 616)
**UNDERWAY**

FAC

FAC = flat ass calm. It's a technical term, really. And it describes beautifully our weather conditions from today. The winds have picked up a little since the sun set or as we passed through some isolated showers. For the most part, though, today has been beautiful, and what I normally think of when I think "Caribbean."

Our lookout could see debris and deadheads (logs washed out to sea) from nearly 3/4 of a mile away. The wind is barely strong enough to mark ripples on the water's surface. When sea birds dive for flying fish, you can see their bubble trail streaking in the water after them, and watch them gulp the tasty treats they've caught as they float placidly by. We saw mahi mahi hiding under detritus, their neon greeny-yellow tails shimmering like jewels.

The wind might pick up soon and churn the seas up again. But in the meantime, I'll enjoy the FAC conditions as long as I can.

LCDR Charlotte Mundy
Executive Officer
USCGC DILIGENCE (WMEC 616)
**UNDERWAY**

Happy New Fiscal Year!

One of the XO's major responsibilities is managing the ship's budget. This includes making sure our funding is used to appropriately support mission execution, including buying parts, supplies, paying for port calls and other ship's amenities and utilities. Because we're a federal agency, we follow the federal government's fiscal year of 1 October to 30 September.

So...out with the old, in with the new! Happy FY16...in three hours.

Thankfully, though, we're pretty well wrapped up on FY15. We had a few violent hiccups at the very tail end of the FY -- you know the kind where it feels like you're going to break a rib if you hiccup one more time. But with some great support from our ADCON, we worked through them. With a whopping 11 hours to spare.

I am approaching the new fiscal year with some trepidation. From the news I'm reading, it sounds like there will be a continuing resolution to see us through the first few months of the new fiscal year. Stable funding, like a full-year budget, is much easier to plan for than a series of CRs. But I'll take the CRs over a government shut-down any day.

We'll wake up tomorrow morning, the sky will still be blue, the ocean salty and the sun bright. And it'll be a brand new fiscal year. Cheers, all!

LCDR Charlotte Mundy

Executive Officer

USCGC DILIGENCE (WMEC 616)

**UNDERWAY**