greatestgeneration:

Read this account of the “swimmers” from the doomed USS Indianapolis as told by Doc Lewis Haynes. Haunting!

My Navy forefathers. Rest your oars, mates. We have the watch.

“Still look forward to gettin amongst it” – The Dark Side of the Lens.

This is some of the most passionately shot imagery I’ve ever seen.  This stuff is simply superb.

Rocked in the Cradle of the Deep

It’s getting to be about that time of year when the U.S. Navy selection boards approves their final recommendations for those they want to see advanced to Chief Petty Officer.  It is also the time of year when my romantic side starts to blossom in full.  So… here’s Emma Hart Willard’s “Rocked in the Cradle of the Deep.”

Rocked in the cradle of the deep
I lay me down in peace to sleep;
Secure I rest upon the wave,
For Thou, O Lord! hast power to save.
I know Thou wilt not slight my call,
For Thou dost mark the sparrow’s fall;
And calm and peaceful shall I sleep,
Rocked in the cradle of the deep.

When in the dead of night I lie
And gaze upon the trackless sky,
The star-bespangled heavenly scroll,
The boundless waters as they roll, -
I feel Thy wondrous power to save
From perils of the stormy wave:
Rocked in the cradle of the deep,
I calmly rest and soundly sleep.

And such the trust that still were mine,
Though stormy winds swept o’er the brine,
Or though the tempest’s fiery breath
Roused me from sleep to wreck and death.
In ocean cave, still safe with Thee
The germ of immortality!
And calm and peaceful shall I sleep,
Rocked in the cradle of the deep.

The Sea Gypsy

By Thomas Hovey

I am fevered with the sunset,
I am fretful with the bay,
For the wander-thirst is on me
And my soul is in Cathay.

There ‘s a schooner in the offing,
With her topsails shot with fire,
And my heart has gone aboard her
For the Islands of Desire.

I must forth again to-morrow!
With the sunset I must be
Hull down on the trail of rapture
In the wonder of the sea.

Ivan Maximov created these opening titles for 20,000 Leagues Under the Sea for a school project. Relatively simple, compared to some of the intricate excellence you see on Art of the Title these days, but I think they are well executed. I really like the combination of live action underwater footage with some slick After Effects motion overtop. Would love to see a longer version.

Ummm, FUCK YES. 

Ummm, FUCK YES. 

On this day 236 years ago, the Continental Congress put into legislation authorizing the outfitting of two naval vessels.  This constitutes the official birth certificate of the U.S. Navy, MY U.S. Navy. 
After 13 years and seven deployments, my life is more enriched, the lives of hundreds of thousands around the worlds are greater. 
I’ve fought pirates off the coast of Somalia.  I’ve fought human traffickers in the South China Sea.  I’ve defended freedom across the world.  
I’ve felt the four winds blow.  I’ve seen the Straits of Gibraltar, the Strait of Magellan, the Straits of Malacca, the Strait of Hormuz and the Strait of June de Fuca.  I know what the South Pacific smells like in August and I’ve seen the fury of the North Atlantic in January. 
I’ve taken 35-foot seas off my port bow and not spilled a drop of coffee.  I can splice line with my teeth, tie a bowline in the dark with one hand, and I know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that the cure for anything is salt water. 
Hoo-YAH, NAVY!  Happy 236th. 

On this day 236 years ago, the Continental Congress put into legislation authorizing the outfitting of two naval vessels.  This constitutes the official birth certificate of the U.S. Navy, MY U.S. Navy. 

After 13 years and seven deployments, my life is more enriched, the lives of hundreds of thousands around the worlds are greater. 

I’ve fought pirates off the coast of Somalia.  I’ve fought human traffickers in the South China Sea.  I’ve defended freedom across the world.  

I’ve felt the four winds blow.  I’ve seen the Straits of Gibraltar, the Strait of Magellan, the Straits of Malacca, the Strait of Hormuz and the Strait of June de Fuca.  I know what the South Pacific smells like in August and I’ve seen the fury of the North Atlantic in January. 

I’ve taken 35-foot seas off my port bow and not spilled a drop of coffee.  I can splice line with my teeth, tie a bowline in the dark with one hand, and I know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that the cure for anything is salt water. 

Hoo-YAH, NAVY!  Happy 236th. 

The Destroyermen by J.A. Donahue

There’s a roll and a pitch, a heave and a pitch
To the nautical gait they take,
For they’re used to the cant of the quarter deck’s slant
As the white toothed combers break
On the plates that hum like a beaten drum
To the thrill of the turbines might,
As the knife bow leaps through the foamy deep
With the speed of a shell in flight.
Oh, their scorn is deep for the crews who keep
To the battleship’s steady floor
For they love the lurch of their own frail perch
At thirty five knots or more.
They don’t get much of the drill and such
That the battleship sailors do
For they sail the seas in dungarees
A grey destroyer’s crew.
They need not climb at their sleeping time
To a hammock that sways and bumps
For they leap kerplunk into a cozy bunk
That quivers and bucks and jumps.
They hear the sound of the seas that pound
On the half inch plates of steel
And they close their eyes to the lullabies
Of the creaking sides and keel.
They’re a lusty crowd that’s vastly proud
Of the slim grey craft they drive
Of the roaring flues and the humming screws
Which make her a thing alive.
They love the lunge of her surging plunge
And the murk of her smokescreen too. 
As they sail the seas in their dungarees
A grey destroyer’s crew.