Welcome to The Doghouse!

When you register in my union, the oldest union in these United States, the registration is good for three months.  They issue a registration card, with the date on it, which we use to compete for jobs when they get "posted on the board-" meaning, quite literally, that the job available is posted on a big bulletin board in the union hall.  Hence, posted on the board.  Creative, no?  Promptly at 1030 the rep "calls the job," and everyone interested "throws down their card."  The rep sorts them by seniority (A, B, C, and D)- the A's taking it over the B's, the B's over the C's, and so on.  If the job has only B cards (for example, what my seniority is now), the oldest registration of all the B cards has the most seniority and takes it.

At the end of April I registered in Hawaii, as I mentioned a few posts ago- with the intention of flying over here July 1.  There were a lot of unknowns, like how long would I sit in the hall?  Should I put everything on credit cards and be stingy with my cash?  Would I get a job before my registration expires?  Should I buy a cheap bike or will the public transit here be adequate?  Where can I get effective coffee?  What will I eat?  Et cetera, et cetera, so on and so forth, ad infinitum.  

So I boarded a jet from Seattle to Honolulu, yesterday, none of these questions answered.  I had instructions to go to the doghouse, a place for we sailors to stay in Hawaii while waiting for a ship. It costs $25 a day and is above the union hall, situated right in the heart of the financial district of downtown Hono, across a busy little city highway from some body of navigable water, as evidenced by four masts on a steel hull I keep eyeballing (exploring that soon, you can put money on it).

But I knew none of this.  Two hours before leaving the house to fly over I booked a hotel because the "building manager" had not returned my calls.  I used my google device, my handheld Library of Alexandria, to show the driver my hotel location once I arrived.  In the morning I used this same tri-corder type of window into all things important to navigate here to the union hall.

Within half an hour I was checked in, I prepaid for 5 days, and then started in on the paperwork for the office.  All my papers were in order, but my drug card is expiring soon, so in the infernal name of Diligence! (TM) I set off to the credible clinic with union papers in one hand, and a giant coffee in the other- ready, willing, and able to piss into a cup.  I figured, "ah, what the hell, I should just walk" and briskly set off in the morning's 70 degree gloriousness with determination.

Fast forward four hours and I returned sore of foot, drenched in sweat, and ready for a nap- but my task was accomplished!  So in 4 or 5 days they will mail my new card here to the hall.  

Except it is looking like 3 watchstander jobs are posting tomorrow.  And my card is nice and old.  So I might be shipping out as soon as tomorrow... my walk?  My Diligence?  My precious, golden bodily fluids?  All Wasted.  

Now I am drinking copious amounts of mineral-laced water and hiding in the air conditioning before I venture forth again... for those curious about my impression of what little I've seen of Hono, thus far:  Tybee Island in the 70's with a mostly Asian population, a Chinatown, and volcanoes.  Meal 1- great sushi!  There is, without any exaggeration whatsoever, a Starbucks on every corner in Honolulu.  Verifiable fact.

Above- My quarters at the Doghouse

It would be fascinating to add a picture of a jail cell, here...  For fun, try to find
the number of differences between the two pictures.  Can you spot all 12 of them?

Below- USNS Waters quarters