‘Homeward bound’, as tattooed on many a sailor; the return voyage to what awaits east with every morning sunrise. Truer words cannot be spoken for many onboard PP12. They look ahead and maybe see home in the distance, less than a month away. As for myself, bow to stern… San Diego to Vietnam… the floating hospital we call Mercy is home. Quite literally, ever since I checked onboard in April 2008 I have yet to ‘live’ anywhere else. When it comes time for one last Mercy photo, a farewell handshake, and a final Pacific Partnership salute walks the gangway; I stay behind. The mission is over, wards are empty, berthing areas are stagnant, the galley shuts down… and I carry my groceries down the pier, up the gangway, and aft through 900 feet of empty passageway.
My name is Spencer Pierce and I am one of approximately 15 MSC mariners who stay attached to ship while she is tied up to Pier 1 in San Diego. In the civilian mariner world, we are not obligated to stay with any one ship for more than 4 months, but I do. As fate may have it, opportunity presented itself to become part of the Mercy crew, of which has been nothing less than a great time over the past 4 years. Where else can your job be walking distance from your bed, and every 18 months your back porch view changes from a Coronado silhouette to the volcanic islands of Southeast Asia? It’s like a summer RV trip to the Discovery Channel, all while being paid to sit back and enjoy the best sunsets and brightest stars. Of course… sometimes as a mariner we may have times where it’s, more like the last night in Vegas with a pocket full of chips to cash. In either case, what a life; complimentary to both work and play and sometimes it’s hard to beat.
The angel that lends a hand for the humanitarian mission far surpasses the devil rolling dice in port… and I am glad to have taken part in the past three Pacific Partnerships. While my job may keep me out of the spotlight and rarely seen onboard, I know the feeling of ‘done good’. Mercy is 7 days a week, a lot coffee, and loads of coordination that bring it all together to make a most memorable impression to patients, partners, and crew alike. The list of how Mercy has aided can go on and on, but in its s
implest form, it brings smiles. Just by walking ashore, locals of villages and small province cities are overjoyed to see faces from Military Sealift Command’s centerfold ship USNS Mercy. Swarms of kids buzz with excitement and in one case a whole truckload of locals pulled aside to have their picture taken with me, a bearded mariner with the figurative halo and horns. To them it matters not who we are, but our good intentions on being there, and everyone onboard is part of that.
This ship is a job and I am a Merchant Marine Engineering Officer. It could be any ship in the MSC fleet, but I am glad to stay. We make your power, make your water, and in the less glorious of times make sure the toilets flush… completely. ‘The Engineers Credo’ as a maritime school friend called it, almost sums up my life onboard Mercy to a tee, “We the willing, led by the unknowing, are doing the impossible for the ungrateful. We have done so much, with so little, for so long, we are now qualified to do anything, with nothing.” –Mother Teresa
That said, I’ll end this blog with
something more original. A Pacific Partnership 2012 Engineers Chanty (Because if it was called a poem my beard would be shaved and I would get 20 lashes from fellow mariners). Or if you don’t feel the chanty beat, just imagine Chuck Norris reading it to Van Halen acoustics…either way….it’s not a poem.
‘THE SKY WAS CLEAR’ A PP12 Engineers Sea Chanty
‘Twas the night before sailing, the sky was clear
Fires were burning, a mission was near
Below she hissed, into the night
Atop they pressed, uniform in white
Dawn break had come, now say goodbye
Tears from loved ones, fill their eyes
Anticipation, excitement, pictures are taken
Last minute disappointment, something had breakin’
Failure, a curse, bad luck, ill fate
Such a small part, delays the date
Below engineers, take action to matter
Atop they think, subdue the chatter
Oil soaked hands, sweat pours off a brow
With confidence she’s ready, this they vow
‘Twas the night before sailing, the sky was clear
Morning comes fast, the day now here
Aweigh the leash, forward steam she thrust
On to King Neptune, our lives we trust
Splitting the waves, rolling the tides
Like a patriot to war, she journeys with pride
For now we pray, fair wind is near
Into the night we sail, the sky was clear.
The Pacific panoramic, we crossed to the west
Military and volunteers, they do their best
Smiles and stitches, the aid we gave
Futures were brightened, lives were saved
Sure as day, ship issues you faced
Engine room you dialed, trouble calls were placed
The lights they flicker, the temperature’s not right
The engineers are called, all through the night
Remember one thing, keep them your friends
We work the ship, your AC can end
Homeward bound, now we are
The engines have turned, both near and far
Advance the clocks, look to the east
The patients are gone, our work not ceased
Days to go, nights yet to pass
The hospital still moves, ‘neath the mast
The North Star now guides, the mates they steer
The lights still on, and the sky was clear.
You have an amazing job. I enjoyed your “not a poem.” Through following the blog of the Pacific Partnership, I have seen how the “invisible” jobs go hand in hand with the “out there” jobs. As in life, we need each other. I am a stay at home mom of 10 children, and I can relate to being invisible (till something goes wrong) so that my husband and children can do what they need to do, what I take great joy in watching them do. May you have fair skies and following seas !