For several years I participated in a vintage race weekend associated with the Holiday Bowl celebrations in San Diego...during which the Coroonado North Island Naval Air Station across the bay from downtown opened their gates to the public for an open house and various events including those races.
These were not the most successful events for me...the original course was so rough and inhospitable that one bump in particular broke a rear axle during the first practice and left me stranded “on course” as the Marshalls decided it was safer to leave me where I was til the end of the session rather than trying to tow me out into the race traffic.
The Navy did listen about the issues with the course (some cars had their paint and windshields pitted by sand thrown off from the deteriorating concrete) and moved the location to a better part of the field. But that didn't help me with a second major issue that meant a thousand mile roundtrip tow for only a few minutes of on track driving.
At an event at Sears Point earlier in the season I had noted that lubricant in the rear end was leaking onto the left brake drum and wheel. Correct, exact size seals were not available for the axles, and thus this was not uncommon to see with the closest substitutes available, though the amount seeemed unusually high. I sprayed the area with copious amounts of Brakekleen and figured that was the best that could be done. The issue did not seem to negatively impact handling nor stopping power.
Sears is a clockwise course. Most turns there are thus right handers, and any fluid would naturally be thrown outwwards towards the left side of the vehicle. Coronado, though also clockwise, as an airport course had limitations set by the layout of runways and taxiways, and was a bit more balanced, so leaking fluid could be thrown to either side of the car. Being aware of a potential issue I checked under the car after the first practice run, only to discover that the rear end lubricant was now slung from the left rear all the way to the differential housing at the very center of the car. It was thus apparent that this was not simply a leaking left seal.
A bit of a digression here is needed...the reason will become apparent in a moment.
Bob Graham had “adopted” stewardship of me and the Siata...he was a “shade tree” mechanic in the most positive connotation of that term...capable of solving virtually any mechanical problem in a cost effective manner, usually with whatever materials he had on hand, though sometimes with questionable attention to some details or structural durability.
Bob had decided, during some other work he had done on the car, and without asking me, that it needed lowering. Though this also resulted in tires scraping the rear fenders under hard cornering which has plagued the car ever since, the main issues were his methodology as well as the materials he used. The method included cutting and shortening the factory original struts holding the body to the front subrame...the materials issue was, rather then having correct length U-bolts made to attach the rear axle housing to the subframes he bent new ones out of hardware store threaded rods. These cheap rods are made by cutting the threads rather than rolling them...the result basically turns the U bolts into very effeective chisels, which had cut their way through the housing.
Needless to say that, despite “advice” from at least one “expert” who should have known better, telling me to run the car, I thought it best to not risk either my safety nor further damage and chose to sit out the rest of the weekend. Sherri and Catherine had flown down to see Gary and me race, and though disappointed, once I explainied that I did not think they wanted to see me die or be injured if the whole thing failed totally, they accepted that possible reality and we at least were able to enjoy the rest of the Navy's hospitality for the weekend.
That included a welcome dinner party at the Admiral's residence, served by formally uniformed Navy personnel and includied entertainment by a Naval orchestra. As with all these weekends, they ended with an Awards Ceremony held in one of the two “hangars” onboard one of the aircraft carriers home berthed at the base. The final event, for those interested, was a guided tour of the carrier under the supervision of navy staff trained for that purpose.
Though I had been on more than one of these, starting with the non-nuclear and now retired USS Constellation and including the USS John C Stennis and others I've likely forgotten, the most notable tour by far was on the USS Ronald Reagan, at the time the newest nuclear carrier in the inventory. Thus it was easy to decide which carrier to model for my “personal history with” collection.
After the Awards Ceremony ended we decided to take advantage of the Navy's offer for a guided tour of the carrier. We joined in with the next group to leave the hangar deck area, under the shepherding of an NCO who was both so far ahead of us at the tail of the group, so softspoken, and (apparently) so bored we could not hear a single thing he was saying. One of us in this “rear guard” noticed that there was a much smaller group following ours, and we could hear the enthusiastic speech of the sailor esccorting the group more clearly than our own guide, so we and a few other couples detached from our group and attached ourselves to his. Obviously the Navy was trusting of us as there was no “headcounting” or any other tracking of who went with which escort.
What a lucky switch that turned out to be!
The guide was a last minute sub and had not been briefed on where he could or should not take visitors...and thus we were quite literally “all over the boat” with him. I no longer remember the exact order so I'll talk about the tour in a “top to bottom” fashion.
We would have started at the top of the command “island” (the Bridge), lterally standing at the captain's work station as well as the Commander of the Air Group” “office,” the CAG. We also looked over the navigator's work station before moving on to the flight crew ready room, with its very comfotable lounge chairs for the pilots.
We also walked through both the officers', and then the enlisted staff's cafeterias. Meals are served 24/7 as the carrier, even while in port, is a 24/7 operation, though the Air Wing had, as is normal, been flown off before entering the harbor, and was either housed on one of Coronado's airfields or at nearby Miramar. We spoke with a number of sailors who assured us the food being served was as tasty and well prepared as it looked.
We spent a bit of time on the flight deck and heard some interesting stories from our guide. He told us it was not uncommon for someone to get accidently washed overboard from the backwash from a jet engine. All deck crew wear buoyancy suits which automatically inflate when hit with salt water. They can also be triggered manually and it is apparently a common “newbie” ritual to pull the cord on some unsuspecting crewperson, turning them into an instant version of “Mr. Bibendium”...the Michelin Man. We were assured that in a true “man overboard” situation, though never achieved in pratice, all 5400 sailors could be acounted for, the boat turned in virtuallly its own length, and the survivor plucked from the water in well under 15 minutes.
We walked through both the officers' bedrooms and the enlisted bunk areas...oseparate cabins for male and female flight crew...no coed facilities. At at the latter, a couple of the women in our group asked if they could see into the cabin and speak with some of the women. Our guide saw no reason not to accommodate this, and after politely knocking and announcing his presence, our wives stepped into and spoke with several of the crew...despite our new sexist Secretary of Defense these ladies were totally professional and capable, though as the Captain had told us earlier in the evening, he had always to keep in mind that he was in command of five thousand four hundred young people who were still in, or barely out of, their teens.
The near final two stops I recall were the anchor room, with chain links for each of the two anchors made of metal as big around as my arm and weigh several hundred pounds each, and the arresting hook cabin. We learned that each arresting cable is attached to a hevy metal sled riding in a huge tank of thick oil. The tension is adjustable somehow for the weight of each type of plane to be landed...possibly by opening or closing bypass valves in the oil though I don't recall being told the exact process. We also might have toured the catapault launch cabin and perhaps I am mixing the story up a bit.
The last stop was a sort of combination trophy and video room, where there is a movie recording of Ronald Reagan speaking about America's role in the world and how carriers like #76 supported his vision of that. There were photos of him on the walls, along with some banners representing the ship.
We were, by a couple of houres, by far the last civilians to be waaved goodbye to by our young escort at the gangplank. In fact, the Shore Police guarding the gangway wre stunned that we were still onboard, having thought all civilians had been gone for some time.
Though there are many stories I recall about Coronado and the racing weekends as guests of the Navy, our evening on the USS Ronald Reegan is well up there among my fondest memories.
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| 1:720 Model I built of the USS Ronald Reagan |
