Amber waves don’t make Bob seasick

Amber waves don't make Bob seasick by Bob Karolevitz Those of you who have never been seasick don�t know what a jolly experience you�ve missed.

Me? I�ve been seasick all over the Pacific Ocean in two wars. At first I thought that I was going to die; then I was afraid that I wasn�t.

I tried everything to avoid it, but always the curse of the rolling sea took its toll.

What if I had been in the Navy and had to spend time aboard a destroyer or an LST?

If I had anything to say about it, all the guys who rode those ships, day in and day out, should have been decorated with Purple Hearts without being shot at.

Shucks, I even got queasy on the general�s tugboat in Puget Sound where the water was as smooth as glass.

Later, on a cruise ship in the Caribbean, I was congratulating myself for having overcome my indisposition, when we foolishly went to a wide-screen movie in the ship�s theater.

The feature that evening was an ocean scene, with billowing waves which threatened to engulf us all.

You guessed it! I rushed out of the theater and just barely made it to our cabin�s restroom. It was gawd-awful.

(I�m getting seasick again just writing about it.)

While I�m on that distasteful subject, I should tell you about the trip I took from Lingayen Gulf in the Philippines to Honshu, Japan, at the conclusion of World War II.

I was in charge of a contingent of replacement officers for the 25th Infantry Division, and the only transportation available to us was with an engineers� outfit on an LST. This is an ocean-going butter tub guaranteed to turn my stomach in even the calmest of waters.

The thing of it was, the waters weren�t calm at all. As a matter of fact, a typhoon buffeted our Landing Ship Tank for 11 days � and for 11 days I never made it from the ship�s mess hall back to my bunk just inside those huge doors without losing it.

A fellow officer, who obviously had a stronger stomach than mine, kept me alive with soda crackers which he filched from the galley. Once we got to Japan and I had land under me again, I was okay, but it�s a heckuva way to lose weight.

Phyllis equates seasickness to the morning problems of pregnancy. However, I always knew I wasn�t with child when the rolling of a ship caused my affliction.

It�s all in the head, they tell me, but I contend that it�s much lower than that. You can whip it by thinking good thoughts, the unaffected say.

All I know is that I�m a South Dakota land-lubber, and I intend to stay that way.

For instance, you don�t get seasick on a riding mower which isn�t about to plunge into deep water. When Phyllis wants to go on a cruise again, I tell her it�s all right as long as I can keep one foot on dry land.

The prairies may be undulating, but at least they are solid underfoot.

� 2003 Robert F. Karolevitz

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