Back Aboard the Chester Maru (Updated)

It’s Memorial Day.  My father died on this day, two years ago.  Some time after his death I posted a letter of his to this blog.  The letter was about his WWII service as a US Navy Armed Guard gunner aboard the MS Chester Sun, a civilian tanker.

Just today, I received an email from a man named Bob, who also served aboard the ship everyone called the Chester Maru:

Ran across [your] site looking for my old ship MS Chester Sun. I was an ordinary seaman, only 18 and the youngest crew member aboard, from Jan through July, 1953, just long enough to experience an attempted murder, several fights, a mutiny, shanghied crew members, several breakdowns under sail, a major breakdown leading to an explosion and fire at sea, with NO fire fighting equipment available, near riots in so many bars at the ports, along with the wildest bunch of sailors in existence. They took good care of me, though. During one my first port calls, Baytown TX, the crew planned a visit to a local whore house to whoop it up but – not for me. They kept me aboard because I was too young and nice to participate. From then on I had a couple of crew members to protect me, off ship, especially when we went bar hopping. I am looking for anyone who sailed on this jinx ship or knows anything about the vessel. Cordially Bob.

PS: My shipboard room was the same one as your father’s. It was a nice big cabin alongside of the stack and was cobbled together for the Navy gun crew. Please tell me more about him.

I had never heard the MS Chester Sun called a jinx ship before.  Dad’s time aboard was uneventful; although the Japanese dropped bombs near it when it was in harbor in Espiritu Santo, it wasn’t hit, and Dad never fired his guns in anger.  When I posted Dad’s letter two years ago I hadn’t been able to find out whatever became of the Chester Maru, but this time around I found some information on a Sun Shipbuilding historical site that said it was scrapped in 1949.  It certainly sounds like Bob had a livelier time of it; what with breakdowns, a major explosion with an explosion and fire at sea, and a mutiny (!), I can understand why he calls it a jinx ship!

I’m going to post another short letter from my Dad about his time aboard the Chester Maru:

Another story: This took place in December, 1943 on the Island of New Caledonia, a French colony south of the equator about midway between Fiji and Australia. At the time I was a Navy gunner aboard the MS Chester sun (aka the Chester Maru) a merchant oil tanker in service to the Navy. We seldom went ashore because there wasn’t much to do in Noumea (the capital), besides, there was a sizable number of lepers on the island. There was also a famous whore house there called the Pink House – the Pink House held no attraction for we young Navy boys. It was rumored that Admiral Halsey had a financial interest in the walled Pink House. The rumor was almost believable because the house was surrounded by MP’s and SP’s who kept order. The VD films we youngsters had seen in boot camp were still vivid in our minds. About all there was to do on the island was to walk around on dry ground and maybe drink overpriced beer at a French bar.

At one bar I was offered some absinthe and being young and ignorant I drank two tiny glasses of that horrible foul tasting poison. In a very short time I became paralyzed – couldn’t navigate. The boys I was with propped me up, one on either side, and half-carried me back to the boat landing. When they got too tired of holding me up, they grabbed hold of my Navy uniform collar and dragged me the rest of the way. Now we know why sailors wear those large wide collars. All this while I couldn’t navigate by myself nor could I see. Nothing seemed to work except my mind – I could hear and think but couldn’t speak nor move. I seemed acutely aware of everything that was happening. My friends were speculating whether I was going to die. I was loaded into the small boat and ferried out to the ship. Luckily, our ship was heavily loaded with oil and was riding low in the water. It was simple for my friends to heave me up onto the deck. Had the ship been riding higher in the water I expect they would have had to haul me up in a cargo net.

My friends tenderly placed me in my bunk (thank goodness it was a lower bunk) and went about their business. Now and then some of them would come back to make sure I was still breathing. It took many hours before I came around and a couple of days to get over the headache. That was 54 years ago and I have never touched absinthe since.

In those days there were not the temptations that youth face today. I, at 18 years of age, was willing to risk the unknown. What if someone had offered me crack cocaine, heroin, meth, or some other drug? Would I have risked it? Probably. Today, when I find myself being judgmental about today’s youth and the drug culture, I ask myself, “If I were an 18 year old youth today, would I be part of the scene?” I would hope not but you never really know.

Dad, I’m thinking of you today.

Update (6/1/09): Bob alerted me to the fact that there were two Chester Suns built by Sun Shipbuilding.  My Dad — and Bob — served on the second one, hull # 122, built in 1930, renamed the Gus M. in 1954, the Transgulf in 1955, the Transcastor in 1957, and scrapped in 1960.  The photo in the original blog entry is of the wrong Chester Sun.  Here is the correct ship:

The above photograph was probably taken while the MS Chester Sun was still in civilian service before WWII.  I was able to find another photo showing the Chester Maru in wartime service with one of Dad’s deck guns on display:

I can only imagine how Dad, fresh out of gunnery school and eager to win WWII, felt when he got his first glimpse of the Chester Maru. Words like “scow” and “barge” are the ones that spring to my mind, along with the phrase “Oh my God.”

And with that I’ll share another letter from Dad about his time aboard the Chester Maru:

Cockroaches weren’t a problem on the two Navy ships on which I served. They were a problem on the merchant tanker. They were everywhere aboard, especially in the galley and dining area, on the deck, bulkhead, overheads, and especially in the food. The first couple meals aboard the ship I skipped because of the roaches. After that I delicately picked the roach carcasses out of the food before eating. Later on, if the carcasses were whole or especially large, I still picked them out; otherwise I became careless and less finicky. The merchant sailors, who had been aboard ship for years, weren’t the least bit finicky, never did see any of them pick the roaches out of their food.

The merchant marine cook was fat (naturally) and was called “Doughbelly”; I suppose he had a real name. I taught him how to use a siphon properly for which he was grateful and rewarded me with an extra piece of pie now and then. On the deck next to the galley was a 55-gallon drum of kerosene (fuel for the galley). When the stove needed kerosene he would stick a hose in the drum and suck on it and usually got a mouthful of kerosene when it started to flow.

The merchant marine sailors got paid extremely well compared to the Navy gun crew. I believe the ship’s captain pulled down about $1200 a month (at that time I don’t believe General MacArthur made that much). While I was making $40 a month, our merchant mess boy was making $125/mo. Further, the merchant crew made an extra $5 a day for every day we were in a war zone (which was most of the time). Not only that, every time there was an air raid and we were called to General Quarters, the merchant sailors were awarded a bonus of $125. Following the war the merchant sailors campaigned to get in on the GI Bill and almost succeeded. Their argument (valid) was that they risked life and limb along with the military; that was a strong argument but they got paid handsomely. Only recently has our congress awarded the WWII merchant sailors with limited medical benefits at VA hospitals.