Crossing the Line

Copyright ©2025 George L. Trowbridge

Excerpt from “Fouled Anchor Chronicles – A Sea of Stories.” By George Trowbridge

We received news from MIDEASTFOR on October 5, that we would depart the Persian Gulf. However, we weren’t heading home yet; our next stop was Mombasa, Kenya. Mombasa is located at the latitude coordinate of 4 degrees 04 minutes South, about 244 miles south of the equator. This means we would cross the equator from north to south on our way to Mombasa. For me, this journey meant I would finally shed my pollywog status and become a shellback. In the chartroom, I quickly calculated that we would “cross the line” on October 11, just one day before arriving in Mombasa.

Today, USS W.S. Sims (FF 1059) would top off the fuel to full capacity. From Sitrah anchorage at Mina Salman, Bahrain, it’s over 3,100 nautical miles to Mombasa, which meant eight days of steaming to arrive by October 12, 1982. After refueling, the supply barge came alongside for the final load. Later, I noticed that very little garbage was loaded onto the barge. Some mail was delivered, but I didn’t receive any letters from home. By late afternoon, we were ready to go.

We weighed anchor for the last time at Sitrah. Instead of the OPAREA being the destination, we were heading for the Strait of Hormuz. The next morning, on October 5, after transiting the Strait of Hormuz and entering the Gulf of Oman, we bid farewell to the Persian Gulf. From the Gulf of Oman, our route would take us to the Arabian Sea and the Indian Ocean.

Everyone noticed some changes on the second day out in the Arabian Sea. October marks the transition between the summer and winter monsoon seasons, resulting in light and variable winds. During the day, air temperatures are around 85 degrees Fahrenheit, cooling to the high 70s at night. The sea water temperature is cooler, in the low 80s. This created a more comfortable environment for everyone on the bridge and those working on the deck.

As the crew prepared to cross the equator, they split into two groups: shellbacks and the pollywogs. The shellbacks were busy organizing the initiation ceremony for crossing the line, while the pollywogs worked on finding ways to disrupt the shellbacks’ plans and activities. Each day, their efforts grew more coordinated. Since the captain was a shellback, very few resources were off-limits to their group.

Three days from Mombasa was Pollywog Day. It was a day for pollywogs to prank and outsmart shellbacks. Any shellback was fair game, from shaving cream pies in the face as they turn a corner in a passageway to splashing water on them when they pass through a door. No prank idea was off-limits as long as personal injury was avoided. The day could be seen as pollywog preemptive strikes against shellbacks before they took action.

That evening, all pollywogs received written subpoenas ordering them to appear “In the Highest Court of the Raging Main” on October 11, before “The Royal Court of Neptunus Rex.”

Two days out from Mombasa, that afternoon, the “Pollywog Beauty” contest was held on the flight deck. The winner of the contest does not have to go through the entire initiation process but will sit in a place of honor with the Royal Court. The catch is that contestants must dress in drag and compete in a talent competition. Surprisingly, there were quite a few contestants.

The same evening, the Plan of the Day was handed out. Besides the detailed crossing plan, it also described the day’s uniform for pollywogs. For chief petty officers, the uniform is, “A Skivvy shirt with ‘PW’ printed on the back, khaki trousers inside out and backward, no belt, Skivvy shorts worn over trousers, khaki hat cover (no frame), tennis shoes or old shoes.”

One day out from Mombasa, the ship crossed the equator during predawn. The day of reckoning began at 0530, as all pollywogs were gathered up and herded by the shellbacks to the forecastle. From then on, all shellbacks were addressed as “Most honorable shellback.” No pollywog was allowed to speak unless spoken to by a “trusty shellback.”

Once we reached the forecastle, the shellbacks organized us into rows facing the bow. On command, we all dropped to our hands and knees. At 0600, Neptunus Rex announced over the 1MC that the cleansing of the filthy and slimy pollywogs was to begin. This process involved washing everyone with seawater from pressurized fire hoses. The cleansing lasted at least 20 minutes until the shellbacks were satisfied that everyone was clean, subdued, and compliant.

The next step was to get all of the pollywogs from the forecastle aft to the flight deck. Walking was not permitted. Movement was achieved by crawling on the non-skid decks or crab walking on hands and feet. Along the way, each of us was served our ceremonial breakfast, a dead fish, which we must carry clenched in our teeth. I chose crab walking and wore a pair of flip-flops on my hands as protection from the non-skid.

On the flight deck, the initiation began. First, you went through the enclosed canvas garbage chute filled with rotting garbage and who knows what else. Upon exiting the garbage chute, you had to be cleansed again with a fire hose. Then, onto the Royal Doctor, where you were examined to determine your ability to tell the truth in preparation for appearing before the Royal Court and Neptunus Rex. Of course, the visit to the Royal Doctor involved some doses of truth serum. Next you went to the Royal Baby, the fattest shellback with, I think, peanut butter and jelly smeared all over his bare belly. Before moving on, you had to kiss the Royal Baby’s belly and then proceed to appear before the Royal Court and Neptunus Rex.

You could be taken to the stockade for a perceived infraction at any moment. While in the stockade, you might be pelted with eggs or half-rotten vegetables. Naturally, after some time in the stockade, you were then cleaned off with a fire hose and seen again by the Royal Doctor.

Finally, once the Royal Baby made a decision, you were ordered to appear before the Royal Court. The Royal Scribe read the list of offenses you were charged with and asks how you pled to each one: “Guilty or Not Guilty.” Anyone foolish enough to plead “Not Guilty” might find themselves starting over at the garbage chute.

I pled guilty to each charge and repeated the same statement each time: “The truth serum I have consumed does not allow me to lie.”

 Finally, the judge said, “On behalf of Neptunus Rex and this Royal Court, we believe you understand the solemn mysteries of the deep, and from this day forward, you belong to the ancient order of shellbacks.” It was over; I was finally a “trusty shellback.”

Overall, the crossing-the-line initiation wasn’t a big deal. It felt mild compared to my CPO initiation. It was a fun day for everyone involved. By noon, the ship was cleared of almost all of the lowly pollywogs.

The shellback initiation is entirely voluntary. I think we had two crew members who chose not to participate. It’s not a big deal if someone decides to opt out. The only rule is that you cannot watch or take part in the celebration cookout.

I overheard some guys talking about their friend who had opted out. One sailor put it like this, “He’s still my friend that won’t change, but now I know he’s a pussy, and he knows everyone knows he’s a pussy.” That’s what friendship among sailors looks like.

To read more of “Fouled Anchor Chronicles – A Sea of Stories,” go to https://www.amazon.com/dp/1954094728