A Visit to “Ehecatl.@

(Former USS Abnaki ATF 96)

 During October 1996 the 8^th annual Abnaki reunion was held in Green Valley Arizona. On Sunday morning the reunion ended and we bid farewell, except the thirty-nine hearty individuals who choose to go on a "post reunion" tour to visit the "former Abnaki" in Mexico. 

We boarded the bus right on schedule at 0800. After being introduced to Hector and Hector, Hector our tour guide and Hector our driver, we started our three-day tour, which I venture to guess not one of us will ever forget.  

The first few hours were routine, with only a brief delay obtaining the necessary clearance from the Mexican authorities. By the time we reached our first scheduled "Rest" stop in Hermosillo most of us had began to realize that Hector was indeed a very talented bus driver. It was not however, until we left the highway and descended into the heart of the city that it became apparent that Hector possessed multiple skills. Magical is the only way to describe how he was able to maneuver that bus down alley width streets, already crowded with other vehicles and pedestrians. We finally came to "rest" at the city square. This is a very picturesque city with a population of about 300,000 however, the city square is not a place I would recommend for a rest stop. One of our crew members went into the $0.25 rest room with only sandals on his feet which prompted some of the crew to speculate what might happen to his toes in the days to come. 

Most of us promptly loaded back on the bus since the outside temperature was probably near 100 degrees. As I sat there, my mind began to explore ways in which we could extricate ourselves from this precarious position. Observing the fact that we were totally blocked in, front, back and both sides. I came to the conclusion that a helicopter rescue would be the only solution. I know some professional truck drivers who would not attempt to navigate that route on a moped.

By this time I had mentally prepared myself for a lengthy stay, however within minutes, it seemed much longer, Hector begins to maneuver and we were once again on the main highway headed for our next stop, lunch, which turned out to be excellent.

The remainder of the trip was uneventful. The roads were reasonably good and the companionship was excellent. We arrived at our hotel (The Marina San Carlos) in mid-afternoon. This is an absolutely beautiful place overlooking a boat harbor with finger mountain in the background. For some of us the rest of the day was spent just loafing and dining. For others, some of the time was devoted to an evening boat ride and "Pseudo" skinny dipping, or so I am told. 

The next morning we boarded the bus for the final leg of the journey to the ship. This is when Hector displayed yet another of his many skills. Not only did it take superior driving skills to negotiate those roads but exceptional navigational skills were also essential. The Naval station, where our ship was located was at, what I would assume to be the end of a very narrow road that twisted and turned for what seemed like miles. By this time however, we had complete trust in Hector, which was well founded, since we reached our destination without mishap.

I must admit that most of us were somewhat apprehensive about what we might see when we arrived. In what condition would we find our old ship? What would our reception be like? How much of the ship would they allow us to visit? These were just a few of the questions running through our minds. Let it be known that all apprehensions immediately disappeared as soon as the ship came into view. We had just rounded a curve at the top of a hill and there below us was that beautiful little ship. Looking down on that ship was a thrill beyond words.

It was a very emotional experience for me, and I believe everyone on board that bus when we pulled up on the pier. The entire Ships Company were assembled on deck. Their spotless white uniforms literally sparkling in the bright morning Mexican sunlight. An honor guard was waiting on the pier and escorted our reunion Commander (Carl Immel), with the rest of us following close behind, to the quarterdeck. I had been silently wondering if our   crew would remember the protocol for boarding a navel ship. My worries evaporated when I saw Carl  come smartly to attention, salute the flag, then the Officer of The Deck and ask permission to come aboard. Never again did I expect to experience such an emotional high, but I did. We were all assembled on the fantail with the crew in formation when Carl and Joe Colombara presented the Captain with a certificate of appreciation. I could  tell from Carl's voice that he was just about to lose it. He didn't, but I almost did. I do not know how many others  were in the same boat but I suspect most were.

After the captain had finished welcoming us aboard, we were invited to tour the ship, I think they had intended for the tours to be conducted in groups, however, all hope of conducted tours soon evaporated as the people spread like flies throughout that ship. It was thoroughly checked out from stem too stern. About the only place I did not visit was the shaft alley and the chain locker. (The hatch from the motor room to the shaft alley had been welded shut).
  

The ship was amazingly the same as I remembered it. At first it seemed smaller but the longer I stayed aboard things slowly adjusted to the proper perspective. It was in the engine room when I overheard Chase Newberry (a plank owner and the first Chief Engineer) commenting about some changes that had been made. I know he was correct because it is also the way I remember it. By the way this guy is eight two years old. Pretty good memory huh. He was the oldest member on the tour. The youngest was Emmett Firmin, fifty-six (1958-1959). By this time the temperature had climbed pretty high. It was probably getting close to noon and that Mexican sun was really beginning to bear down. This is when Leon Sokolic was overheard saying "I have sweat streaming from every pore of my body and loving every minute of it. 

Just to test my memory I checked out the hull where the A.R.D. 31 had rammed us. Sure enough the welds were still there, just the way they were almost fifty years ago. I know everybody else was checking her over just as thoroughly as I was, and to my knowledge it passed inspection with flying colors. It should be noted that this ship has been in operation for fifty-three years. Never in the three and a half years that I had duty aboard her did I see her looking better. The ship was spotless. The Officers and Crew were super. Everywhere we went one of them was there with a smile and a helping hand. It was damned hard to leave her. Coming back across that gangway was not a sad experience, but rather another unexplainable high. It must have been for the others too, because as I approached some of the crew, already on the pier, more than one person was wiping their eyes. Maybe it was perspiration.