“I’m sorry Jiggs, but something just came up,” I spoke into my old friend’s voice mail. If I timed my call just right, he wouldn’t even be in the office to pick it up until Seaview and I  were already  far far away.

Now, it’s not that I don’t enjoy getting together with him for pretzels,  beer or such, but I knew that with some important war games coming up, he’d probably want to draft Seaview as his command post. So when Agent Catfish sent me an invitation to visit Daytona Beach, well, frankly, if you don’t want to do something, and you have a chance to eat all the oysters you want, in the half shell, fried, even Oysters Rockefeller, well, one excuse is as good as another  to tell the Commander of Submarine’s Pacific that you can’t loan your sub out, so I grabbed her lifeline.

And it’s not as if I’m  technically a gourmet,  but as far as these mollusks are concerned, well, it’s just hard to say no. Now, most marine biologists will tell you to use a bit of caution. A  lot depends on the water they’re harvested from. After all, they filter out a lot of gunk. So taste can range from the sublime to the rather...earthy.  Still, I’ve never met an oyster I didn’t like.  And she offered me the  chance not only to be a guest speaker, but to help out laying in new oyster mats for the refurbishing project. I could get my feet wet. Up close and personal with them. And add my acumen to  the Halifax Oyster Festival.  Why, there’d be food, beer, music, paddleboards, and sailboat rides…a good day to be had for one and all. And only $6.00 a pop.  You don’t find that good a bargain any more.

I wasn’t sure how my crew or even Lee would take the news that their long awaited shore leave in Hawaii had been cancelled as I ordered the change of course, but by the time most of them woke up  (I’d used the owl watch to shape my devious plans)  they would simply have to face it as a fait accompli. It’s not as if they’re not used to their plans going astray. Such is life aboard Seaview. Besides, they can have shore leave in Florida. The beaches aren’t that much different than those in the islands. Well, okay, maybe Daytona doesn’t normally have hot tubes, but it does have water and sand. What more can one want?

 Apparently not much, Lee touted, as he stormed into my cabin, still half sleep and in his PJ’s, having felt the change in direction. A talent he has down to a fine point where it regards his boat, even if Lt. O’Brien handled the turn well. And so he stood barefoot, hair tousled and read me the riot act for not checking with him first. And I’m sure it wasn’t just the fact that I hadn’t informed him, as the Captain, about my change of plans. He was sore because  he’d made plans to go sailing with his friend Lt. Cmdr. Jackson around the islands, not to mention enjoying an honest to goodness Luau.  A real one, minus tourists, as invited guests of a mutual friend on the island of Niihau, which to this day, is pretty much tourist free.  

Frankly, I think Lee and his friend might have been up to no good with their plans but there’s no proving it. In the meantime, while he managed to take a breath during his tirade, I sort of suggested that Lee volunteer his services with the festival coordinator  to skipper some of the  sailboat rides. Appalled, Lee informed me he hated oysters (he doesn’t-I’ve seen him down a dozen or so himself) and if he was going to skipper a sailboat, it would be his own, or Joe’s,  thank you very much, and went back to bed.

Oh well, I thought as  I retired for the night.

I’m hopeful that by time we reach Daytona, he’ll have calmed down somewhat, and maybe even join me at the festival.

One thing's for certain, though. With or without his support, I fully intend to have a shucking good time.