Greetings, From the Warship: Underway Day
Three Days at Sea with America’s Sailors
May 19th: Norfolk, Virginia
I’ve staked out a quiet corner on the upper deck of the ship using what looks like part of a missile launcher as makeshift umbrella while I type. It’s just past noon. A junior officer requested I turn off my location. A Marine vomited in the galley. He’s blaming it on the fish. The Navy is blaming it on inferior gastronomy. The sun is blazing on deck. We’ve got about two hours to go. Below me the crew is scrambling in preparation for departure while media teams trickle in to capture our send-off.
Wi-Fi further out to sea will be unreliable they tell me. I’m counting it as a blessing—or, a much appreciated excuse for pause. Yesterday’s news of Joe Biden’s grim diagnosis was yet another lie exposed. Stage five cancer permeating his bones —dropping two days before Jake Tapper’s absurdly comical book hits shelves? Timing is everything. Tapper, clearly trying to distance himself from the cover-up. And the cover-ups trying desperately to distance themselves from the truth.
Biden’s physical last year described him as “perfectly healthy.” This stage doesn’t appear overnight. I see doctors weighing in asking how a routine blood test was somehow missed—for the President of the United States.
Oliver Wiseman is calling it “perhaps the biggest political scandal of the 21st century.”
Why Am I Here?
To see how our troops live. To embed with Navy personnel in order to get a firsthand look at life aboard a warship. Typically, I accept every invitation if it involves some aspect of patriotic measure. I don’t love boats. I’m claustrophobic at sea. But how do you know or write about something if you don’t live it?
Room and board is tight. I’m bunking in the Captain’s quarters which apparently counts as a certain level of luxury. Two sets of metal bunks crammed into a metal-lined space that could under better lighting and smart styling pass for a Wes Anderson set—charming, but industrially so. Because my neurotic instinct is to revamp whatever space I inhabit, I’ve already converted a narrow pink metal locker into a quaint pantry stocked with fruit, popcorn and a few dry organic staples.
The ship is a no-frills dry environment. Which means no wine. No almond milk. And no lattes. Seemingly built for people with a strong sense of direction. Endless stairs, tight portholes, winding hallways and far too many places to get lost—which I’m doing often. Twice today already. Looking for hand soap this morning I wandered into a high-voltage corridor, had to breathe my way out of a panic attack and flagged down a passing sailor begging him to please “show me sunlight.”
As for wardrobe—I always learn the hard way. Designer shoes on deck are a no. The nautically themed Chanel loafers Mike sweetly repaired for me before I left—he literally hammered nails into the soles—barely lasted an hour. Grip matters. I’ve since surrendered to a pair of black Hunter rubber boots which might actually save my life amid all these dangerously steep laddered excursions.
Signing off now to catch the departure festivities. Intercoms are telling us to prepare for takeoff.
Over the next few days I’ll be checking in here when I can, shadowing the ship’s crew—young sailors, many just out of high school—as they go about their routines. I’ll be asking what it’s like to live at sea and how they feel about the country they’ve chosen to serve.
Updates as connection allows from wherever the tide takes us.
In the meantime I’ve been repeating this prayer: Blessed be the power of our Starlink.
About USS New York (LPD 21)
A San Antonio-class amphibious transport dock currently stationed in Norfolk, Virginia.
It is the fifth U.S. Navy ship to be named after the state of New York.
Shortly after the September 11, 2001 attacks, New York Governor George E. Pataki wrote a letter to Secretary of the Navy Gordon R. England, requesting that a surface warship involved in the Global War on Terrorism be named New York to honor the victims of 9/11. Acknowledging that state names were typically reserved for submarines, Pataki asked for special consideration.
The request was approved on August 28, 2002.
In September 2003, steel recovered from the World Trade Center was melted down and used in the construction of the ship—infusing the vessel with a powerful symbol of resilience.
USS New York was christened on March 1, 2008, during a ceremony at Avondale Shipyard in New Orleans, Louisiana. Dotty England, the ship's sponsor and wife of Deputy Defense Secretary Gordon R. England, smashed the traditional champagne bottle against the bow to formally christen the ship. The ceremony was attended by several dignitaries, including Louisiana Congressman William Jefferson, Deputy Secretary England himself, members of the New York City Police and Fire Departments, and family members of 9/11 victims.
The ship was officially delivered to the Navy on August 21, 2009, in New Orleans. She departed for her homeport in Norfolk, Virginia on October 13, 2009. On November 2, as she passed the World Trade Center site for the first time, USS New York rendered a 21-gun salute in honor of those lost.
The ship was commissioned on November 7, 2009, in New York City. Speakers at the ceremony included Secretary of State Hillary Clinton, Secretary of the Navy Ray Mabus, Governor David Paterson, Mayor Michael Bloomberg, Chief of Naval Operations Admiral Gary Roughead, and Commandant of the Marine Corps General James T. Conway.
Update / May 20th: 1:10pm in the Wardroom - brief reconnect with WIFI
My WIFI cut out shortly after we departed. Sooner than I was prepared for. I am here now only because I knocked on the radio room door after breakfast and begged them to rewire my access so I could briefly check in on family. The tech lords of Starlink took pity on me.
I talk with sailors in line at the mess hall. In the bridge as they steer the ship, in training actives. I’ll have amazing stories to share when I’m back.
I’m being called now to witness (and possibly board) a helicopter that is landing shortly, arriving with Fox and Friends. I’m cold, my bunker is an ice box, my body aches, and I’m fighting mild sea sickness. But we are approximately 40 nautical miles from our destination, where celebration awaits. The sailors are all so excited for their New York arrival. I’m excited for them.
With love from somewhere in the Atlantic,
JRK
I hope you find your sea legs soon and the sickness passes x
PS and Joe Biden has looked like a corpse for a very long time yet the msm never reported honestly about it here in the UK .
This is quite amazing that you even have this opportunity. I hope you are able to lean into the quarters and are able to adjust to the seas. Thanks for sharing this journey! 🇺🇸