Around the World Submerged: The Voyage of the Triton

I missed seeing Sawyer tried, but was later informed by eyewitnesses that when asked whether he pled guilty or not guilty to the charges, he shouted, “Banzai!” at the top of his voice, drew a water pistol of his own, and before anyone could stop him, shot the King, the Queen, and the Royal Prosecutor. He was finally overwhelmed by the Prosecutor, the Attorney for the Defense, and a number of other Shellbacks, who, with a right good will, hurled themselves upon his struggling grease-plastered body.

The shillelagh-swinging Shellbacks prepared for a tough battle when Sawyer appeared, but he scuttled between them so fast that they did more damage to themselves and the surrounding furniture than they managed to do to the thoroughly guilty Sawyer.

Finally, with all pollywogs properly initiated, King Neptune and his Royal Party announced they were cheered by the high caliber of our crew and that they had all been inducted and accepted into the august society of Trusty and Loyal Shellbacks. Promising at all times to be ready to assist his Loyal Shellbacks of the deep against pollywogs of the shallow coastal waters and especially pollywogs found on other ships, Neptune bade Triton farewell and returned to his watery realm.

Nowhere does it appear on the record, but the day before the ceremony, King Neptune had made a personal advance call on me to ask whether haircuts would be permitted. In 1952, when Trigger II crossed the line, I would not allow hair to be cut because within a few days we would be going ashore in Rio de Janeiro on liberty, and I didn’t want any of Trigger’s sailors wandering around town with zany-looking haircuts.

But this case, I now told Garlock, was different. There would be plenty of time for the hair to grow back.

There were, indeed, some dismayed looks, as the new Shellbacks regarded themselves in a mirror after the ceremonies, but all were assured that their hair would regrow by the time we got back to port. And, as a matter of fact, hard though it was to believe at the time, that is what happened.

It was a mighty funny ship’s company that carried Triton down the eastern coast of South America toward Cape Horn. Some men cut all their hair off; to give it all an even start, as one ex-pollywog expressed it. Others tried by one stratagem or another to make their heads look halfway decent, or at least symmetrical, but most simply didn’t bother, letting them stay the way they’d been trimmed by the Royal Barbers.

One noticeable thing was that the two Barbers cut each other’s hair some time during the ceremony, apparently to forestall any possible attempt by pollywogs to seek revenge; and at least one Shellback took to wearing a sou’wester cap, strings tied snugly under his chin, whenever he went to sleep. His theory, he explained, was that while awake he was pretty sure he could defend himself; and before anyone could get the sou’wester off his head, he would be pretty sure of being awake.

Shortly after midnight of this day I turned in; the first leg of our trip was completed and the second one fairly started. We had had our share of ups and downs during these first days, and I wondered what the next leg would bring. Our course was now to the southwest, and in another week we would be at Cape Horn.

8

We had calculated that it would take us about seven days to make the long run down the east coast of South America to Cape Horn. It was technically the first leg of our circumnavigation, and I was glad that our first landfall and the horseplay at the equator were behind us. Now we could settle down and organize the ship for the long run. If all went as we hoped, we would see St. Peter and St. Paul’s Rocks again on the twenty-fifth of April.

Various projects were already under way. Dr. Ben Wey-brew, a psychologist from the Navy Medical Research Laboratory in New London, had issued a series of questionnaires to various volunteers from the crew. They were to mark them at different times during each day and turn them in daily. The Doctor’s project was to record such prosaic things as sleeping hours; smoking and coffee-drinking habits; general feelings and moods, such as laziness or energy, depression or euphoria; how much food a man consumed and whether his eating habits changed during the cruise; his reading habits; how often he thought of his family; and other related matters. His questions seemed a bit strange to a number of us and when I asked about them, he explained that they were, in fact, derived from diaries kept by the men on Nautilus and Seawolf, who had carried out similar investigations during their long trips. Our data would add to the information thus amassed regarding the psychological effects of long cruises. The basic information would be valuable not only for future submarine operations, but for space travel as well.