I was discharged from the US Navy in late December, 1963 at age 21 and returned to my home in south Mississippi. After the new year rolled around, I went to the Coast Guard facility in New Orleans and passed the exams for fireman/Watertender and Oiler. I was issued a Z-card with those endorsements and first tried to find a job on commercial shipping.

Entry-level into the seaman's union (the SIU) was easy. I did get the C-card, but quickly found out that getting signed on a ship (in practice) required having the so-called B-book. There were shortcuts to getting the B-book, but these were either too expensive to "buy" or would take too long (working six months as a janitor and go-fer in the union hall). Someone suggested that I try the Military Sea Transport Service.

I signed up with MSTS in late February, 1964 as a Fireman. I believe we sailed from the New Orleans Port of Entry in mid-March. Our first stop was in Corpus Christi, Texas, where we loaded a number of Huey helos, one or two Skycrane helos, and I think some AD Skyraider prop-driven airplanes. From Corpus, we sailed to Panama, transited the Canal, and on up to California (San Francisco or San Diego?) for fuel and supplies. We may have loaded some more aircraft there, but I cannot remember.

Across the Pacific, we made stops at Honolulu and one other island, perhaps Midway or Guam. We arrived at the mouth of the Saigon River in late April. I seem to recall the anchorage was called Cape St. Jacques. We took on some Army troops who would walk around the deck, occasionally tossing grenades in the water to discourage an underwater attack.

Early one morning (I think it was the last day of April, but could have been May 1st), we raised the anchor and made our way upriver. We tied up to the dock about early afternoon that same day. The crews turned to and began unloading the aircraft. I had the 0400-0800 boiler watch, so I went ashore with two others. We did some looking around and had a meal in a small Vietnamese diner. When we returned, I sacked out for a few hours before my watch.

The watch was routine until just a few minutes past 5 AM, when there was a loud explosion and concussion. I was standing under the vent blower at the boiler control board (1/8" steel plate) and the concussion slammed me up against it. I was stunned by the impact but staggered to my feet after a few moments. Only the starboard boiler was being fired and all the burners were extinguished. The emergency lighting came on and, somewhat groggily, I attempted to relight a burner. The fuel pumps had been knocked offline and, of course, the forced draft fans were not functioning. I then started down to the lower level to check on the pumps, but about two-thirds of the way down, my feet hit water. Realizing that the engineroom was flooding, I went back up, made sure the fuel valves and air registers were closed, and then evacuated.

The ship settled to the bottom quickly, I think in perhaps fifteen to twenty minutes. The sponsons, which had been ten or fifteen feet above the dock, were now even with it. We were able to almost step off the ship. It wasn't long until a contingent of troops arrived and secured the area. I think that after a while it was determined that she was on bottom and would not sink any more. We were allowed to go back to our cabins and pack our gear. Some time later in the day, buses arrived and took most of us to a hotel (in the Cho Lon district?). We spent a few days there before being taken to the airport and starting our trip back to New Orleans.

In about thirty days or so, some of us were contacted to crew the ship for a tow to a shipyard. In that time, the Navy had put a soft patch on the hull, pumped the water out, and towed the Card to the Navy yard at Subic Bay, PI.

We flew from New Orleans to Manila and were bused to Subic Bay. After several days, a hard patch had been put on the hull, some provisions put aboard (mostly C-rations of Korean War vintage), and we began the tow to the Navy yard at Yokosuka, Japan. She was drydocked for several weeks while repairs were made to the hull and below-decks gear. The engineroom was cleaned, the boilers were re-lined with new firebrick, the turbines and reduction gear cleaned and new lubricant pumped in. All the lower-level storage rooms were cleaned and spare parts refurbished and restocked.

Late that year, we fired the refurbished boilers, got steam up, lit off the generators and auxiliary equipment and soon sailed back home.

John McDonald
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