My Journal

By Harriman Nelson

8

Another bad night. In spite of the pink stuff, I actually may have to make a little visit to the Med Center this afternoon. To top things off, I’ve started up smoking again. Would you believe there are cartoons out there of Seaview in the throes of passion? At least television only presented the milder versions, such as Seaview with eyelashes and bright red lipstick while divers hand out numbers to whales awaiting her favors!

As much as I want to complain, I know if I request retractions from the tabloids and internet, the publicity will just make things worse. And I don’t want to do that as Lee’s probably already up to his armpits with snide remarks from his Navy colleagues and the Diego work crews.

The broadcasts this afternoon went on to show Seaview making her way along the shore towards the Navy base harbor, the impact of the assault quite evident from the numerous (and large) tears and dents in her hull. Even her tail fins were bent out of shape.

“We don’t know,” the anchor was saying, “ how long the temporary repairs will take to complete in San Diego before Seaview, already docked here, can return to her home base of Santa Barbara for more extensive work.  The incident, while humorous to many, also caused minor injuries to the crew, including, we’re told, the captain, who had already been injured in a diving bell mishap. We’re hoping for an interview with him once he’s free from official business.”

Oh God.

I clicked off the TV and called  Seaview, but was informed by Riley, the duty Sparks, that the skipper was at a meeting with the Base Commander and that Morton, O’Brien, and Sharkey had accompanied him. The crewman made no mention of any injuries from the whale assault until I asked him. 

"Pretty minor stuff, sir. A few scrapes, bumps, and bruises."

"And the captain's injuries?"

“He got, like,  a bit knocked around but nothing too serious, sir.”

 How not 'too serious'?”

“Got a split lip and…” he hesitated.

“Go on.”

“Lt. O’Brien’s elbow smashed into him during one of the rock and rolls. Right in the cojonies. The skip said he was fine, but it was kind of hard like, to believe him as he rolled around on the deck clutching them. Nobody knows if he went to see Doc after he managed to get up. He was kind of busy right then, trying to figure out why the system failed to send charges through the hull, and like, getting them to work again. Er, sir? You’re not going to tell him I told you about, the specifics?" he asked, flushed with embarrassment.

“You were answering to me…but, no, I’ll just let him explain the nature of his injuries if he wants to. Have him call me as soon as he returns to Seaview.”

“Aye sir,” the man said, relieved.

“Very well. Nelson out.”

Oh Lord, if the press gets wind of this…I doubt any of the crew will talk, after all, in their minds the skipper is akin to something sacrosanct. But all injuries are reported to the Reserves and there’s nothing Lee can do to prevent it.