THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1994, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Sunday, October 16, 1994 TAG: 9410140209
SECTION: CHESAPEAKE CLIPPER PAGE: 02 EDITION: FINAL
TYPE: RANDOM RAMBLES
SOURCE: Tony Stein
LENGTH: Medium: 84 lines
Back from a bus tour of New England fall foliage, I am here to report that the New England leaf colors were not quite as pretty as what I have often seen in the Shenandoah Valley.
But don't get uppity, Virginians. What I once saw in the Pocono mountains of Pennsylvania was a lot prettier than the Shenandoah show. So remember, humility is not just for North Carolinians.
Anyway, my major disappointment of the trip was not the leaves. It was what happened on the Boston waterfront. The tour stopped at the pier where the USS Constitution is berthed. It's the warship launched in 1797 that blew the royal bazoos off several British foes during the War of 1812. The Constitution remains a fully commissioned ship in the Navy, and I was looking forward to seeing it in fighting trim. This, after all, was the vessel called ``Old Ironsides.'' It earned that name because a British sailor said cannon balls bounced off its sides like they were made of iron.
I got a sad surprise. The ship is being spiffed up for its 200th birthday, and it is a bare-bones hulk at the moment. It was like going to visit Miss America and finding Miss Mud Fence.
That's why I touched base with Lindsay Jones when I got home. He is the son of Anna Jones of Chesapeake and her late husband, Col. Gordon Jones. Lindsay, a well-known artist now, was in the Navy some years back and was assigned to the crew of the Constitution.
No, not that many years back. Not like the War of 1812. Since the Constitution is still in commission, there is a Navy crew on board. Jones was part of that crew in 1966 and 1967, and he remembers the hitch with fondness.
That's despite the fact that he had to memorize a 10-page lecture for tourists and the names of all the sails and lines in the rigging. Plus occasionally wear canvas pants, a red-and-white striped shirt, a short black jacket and a flat black hat. That's how the early 19th century Navy uniformed its sailors.
What stays with Jones is a set of wonderful sights and sounds and smells. Looking down on the ship and the harbor from 160 feet up on a mast. Hearing the gentle creaks and groans of a wooden vessel swinging at anchor in the night. Smelling the pungency of the hemp and pine pitch mixture used to caulk the ship's seams. Polishing to a deadly gleam the cutlasses that lashed out when the ships closed to hand-to-hand combat.
``It was like being in a different world,'' Jones says. ``You always sensed that this had been something of raw power, a big, powerful warship.''
One touch of historical accuracy was gone. In her active days, the Constitution's sailors were entitled to the rum-and-water mixture called grog. No more. ``Real shame,'' said Jones with what I guess you would call dry wit.
Lindsay's mama, Anna, is a major booster of the Norfolk County Historical Society, and she wanted me to tell you that there is a book called ``Around the World in Old Ironsides.'' It is a reprinting of the journal of Henry George Thomas, a journal he kept when the ship made an around-the-world voyage from 1844 to 1846. Thomas was the ship's carpenter. Local historian Alan Flanders edited it, and the Chesapeake library and the historical society sell it. I've looked through it, and there are lots of interesting verbal snapshots of Navy life 150 years ago.
Literary types among you may remember a poem called ``Old Ironsides.'' It was written in 1830 when the government decided the Constitution was surplus baggage and should be scrapped. The poem said ``Don't do it!'' so loudly and passionately that the ship was saved.
This leads me to offer my poetic services to those worried about the possible closing of Fort Story. My contribution:
Don't close Fort Story, no matter how solvent they wanna be.
It will hurt defense and, gracious glory, will batter the Beach economy.
Although our leaf tour to New England was generally wonderful, there was one other disappointment. We went out on a boat at Gloucester, Mass., to see whales, but the sea was so rough we came back in. No whales. No wails, though. Safety first.
We've been disappointed on tours before. The time we saw Stonehenge in England, for example. That's the ancient circle of stones that looms so largely and impressively in pictures. Up close, it's dinky. More Mickey Mouse than massive monument. We should have stayed on the tour bus and nursed our illusions.
The next sound you hear will be the shrieks of the ancient Druids who built Stonehenge and have traded off its reputation for centuries. Sorry, guys. I'm just telling it like it is. If Stonehenge is huge, I'm a linebacker for the Washington Redskins, and they've got enough problems without me. by CNB