Mr. X

As we toured the yard, we got to go on the bridges of many ships. On one particular bridge, we met the fabulous Mr. X (I hope someone else got his card…). Mr. X’s job was to test operate and check the installation of every piece of equipment on the bridge. In a previous life, he had been a mate of some sort. In a great show of generosity, he took our group all around the bridge and demonstrated or described the function of all the equipment. This includes the wheel (duh), throttle, engine control panel, horns, radars, radios, fire control etc. etc. He had shown us the horn button, but had not demonstrated. Last year’s group was able to blow the horn, and I had been looking forward to that particular gem since I learned I was coming to Korea.

There was a suspiciously horn looking lever above the wheel that he had not identified. I asked with great hopes, “What is that?” He replied, “The ships whistle, do you want to blow it?” I nodded my head with increasing rapidity as the adrenaline kicked in, and Mr. X gestured toward the lever. I stood below the lever, grasped it in my hand and looked at him one more time for assurance. He nodded and I pulled lever. I was expecting something on the magnitude of a foghorn, as well as an immediate sense of power and accomplishment. What I got was nothing. As Mr. X laughed along with everyone else on the bridge, it became apparent that this particular lever was not yet working. He pointed at me, made a reeling motion with his other hand and said, “That is what we call fishing in Korea.” Embarrassed, I consoled myself by thinking it was at least worth the try.

Later in the day, we were on yet another bridge, and who should we find working there? Mr. X. In his generosity he showed us around once again, and this time pointed at a small green button, labeled “Whistle”. He once again pointed at me, and indicated that I could push this button. Skeptical, and prepared for another embarrassment (but still worth the try), I pushed the button. There was a second of delay, followed by the sound I had been waiting for. Interestingly, most of the major sound signals are pre-programmed, so only one button push is necessary to say, “You are about to get run over,” in whistle speak. As he sounded all the signals, I decided that Mr. X was not so bad. My opinion of him further improved when he told Jake that his dream was to attend Michigan. I figure we can work something out…