Hickox (DD 673) - Naval Cruise Book

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ATHENS, GREECE We Mediterranean moored in Piraeus at Phaleran Bay, with a Dutch ship on one side of us and The USS Hailey on the other. Piraeus meant Athens — the new and the old side by side — its culture, its history — the feeling of being so close to antiquity. A tour of this political, economical and cultural center of Greece took us to the Acropolis, with its famous Parthenon, the Temple of Zeus, the Dionysus theater, where ancient Greek dramas were first performed, and many other fabled monuments of the Greece of old. We all posed for a picture in front of the Parthenon and found that the method of photography was as ancient as our surroundings. The guide was difficult to understand, but it was easy to realize that we were, indeed, in a very historical place. We saw the Panathonic Stadium, scene of the first modern Olympic games, and the flame that is carried for miles every four years to start them. There were many Americans in Athens. More than we had seen in any other place. American magazines could be bought at any newsstand. And as we roamed midst the columns and arches, a strange and exciting feeling came over us. This was our last scheduled port o ' call in Europe. This was the far turn coming into the home stretch, the last round, the ninth inning. When we got underway that last day, there was a wonderful feeling throughout the ship. After we fueled and cast off all lines from the tanker we backed down, swung around, and heard the Navigator say, Recommend course 270. We all knew what that meant. Mr. Harlow and Mr. Bondurant pose by the Parthenon. The Acropolis. The ruins of another era. J3 • wM J£ m | i ' i in VIM 1 ' 1 J J J©

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The Rock The Azores THE WAY HOME Now there was only a small matter of about 3,000 miles of Blue Lagoon between us and the Mount Hope Bridge — Only 3,000 wet, angry, rocky ... I wish I wasn ' t a lookout . . . stew for chow, miles between us and Gene ' s Cleaners. Our thoughts were of home, and those that would be there waiting, as we pitched along, but we couldn ' t forget for one moment that we were at sea. We felt every inch of the way. We stopped at Gibralter for fuel for a day and got a good look at the bulwark of the Mediterra- nean. We took a tour of the Rock and made our way through its labyrinth of tunnels. We found out that in case of siege, the British could, self-sufficiently remain inside for five years. Hubbard and Harrison had their pictures taken for some English magazine. We found the famous apes that roam the streets at will, but failed to see the Prudential Life Insur- ance sign. Some of us took a quick ride over to Spain, just to say we had been there. We said goodbye to Europe and were off again. Things hadn ' t changed much in a day. It was the same ocean, with the same ideas about the same ship. We got another respite four days later on a little island almost plunk in the middle of the Atlan- tic — Ponta Delgada, Azores.. Once more we had to fuel and had time to see this beautiful little place with its yellow houses and red roofs. 1700 was underway time and at special sea detail it seemed hardly possible that the next time we put foot on land it would be in that land owned by Uncle Sam. To think that once more we would be wrapped in the loving arms of tropical Newport in the winter. To think that once again we could swing from a buoy and ride the boats. To think that seventy- two ' s and forty-eight ' s would once more be a reality. It was unbelievable. HOME ... The Sea