The bouncy 45-minute liberty boat ride back to anchorage allows us an up-close and personal view of the “supertanker.” On the way to Manama pier in Bahrain, we pass several of these too big to be true, inanimate city blocks of steel lined up in dry-dock in various states of repair and maintenance. These 250,000-deadweight-ton behemoths that transport the world’s oil out of here somehow make the sentinel aircraft carrier lying at anchorage on the hazy horizon seem almost insignificant. But they are why were here in the first place.

Bahrain is nothing more than a big sandbar off the Saudi Arabian coast. It doesn’t boast the majestic deserts or mountains of the mainland. It’s very expensive ($1 U.S. = 3 Durham). Quite the contrast to the Asian ports we hit on the way over. Can you say 28 Philippine pesos to the dollar? WHOOHOO!!! And restrictive, just the security measures alone are enough to take the fun out of anything. Hidden cameras, armed guards, metal detectors and random strip searches are the norm getting on and off the base to go anywhere.

Not too many places to go out in town. I’m not discounting it; it’s a very beautiful and busy city, just not a whole lot of “tourist” attractions. The “Tree of life” is here. A tree many scholars say dates back to the probable Garden of Eden. At one time this was a very lush and almost tropical area. All this oil had to come from somewhere right? Again, I reflect back on the historical promise of this whole region. In the states, if something dates back a few hundred years, it’s usually a pretty big deal. Here, things date back to the bible and beyond. Interesting, but outside of shopping for gold or perfume and eating local, we decided the base was the best bet for the few days we’re here.

Enjoying the evening with 3,000 of my closest friends, a reggae band plays the outdoor bar in the “cooling” fall nights — it’s going all the way down to the high 80’s at night now. The date palms sway to the warm Gulf breeze, ice-cold beer and rum flow like water. It’s been a long, hot cruise and we’ve all worked hard. We’ve passed the halfway point but we’ve still got a lot of time left “on-station.” Kind of in the “doldrums” I guess you’d say. Feels like we’re almost there, yet we’re not going anywhere.

Two a.m. brings us back to the 45-minute bouncy liberty boat ride back home to “Mom.” Fortunately, those rides never really bothered me that much. It just takes a while for my head to wind down while I’m lying in my rack feeling the room spin. But put these junior guys off the farms of the Midwest out there, get them as drunk as you can, feed’em as much pizza as they can eat, then put them on a pitch black dark, middle-of-the-night liberty boat ride? It’s like a cruel joke, one that usually involves a swab and a hose.

For now it’s back to the grind. I can’t begin to tell you how good it felt to sleep in for the first time in two months. It’s the little things I miss …

Brooks Davis
CSC Systems Engineer/Analyst
Space and Naval Warfare Systems Center
San Diego, Calif.