Stevenson (DD 645) - Naval Cruise Book

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panama, am! Rama Ewa Neither the turbulent waters around Norfolk, nor the Northbound gales oil Cape Hatteras, nor even the strong headwinds of the Windward Passage re- tarded our scheduled arrival at Panama for we were on our way to the Pacific and time was short. We reached the entrance to the Canal, gliding into a trop- ical heat of lO5 degrees, and, without delay, began our slow progress through the maze of locks that shut out the Atlantic and open into Gatun Lake, a large body of freshwater equidistant between the two oceans and separating the two series of entrances and exits of the canal. ' Travelling through Culebra Cut, a twisting and shallow slice of water, one could behold a scene of indescribable beauty. The surrounding country was of a jungle nature, with little islands peppering the lake and offering a solid wall of green in every direction. The sky overhead was strikingly blue, ac- centuating the whiteness of sparse fluffy clouds which lolled across the sky and the clearness of the day afforded the green growth a brilliance which at once hurt the eye. The phenomenon of Gatun Lake, a body of fresh water between two bod- ies of salt, prompted us to wet down the ship and wash off the salt crusts that lingered as our possible last remembrance of the Atlantic. The crew was in a jovial mood, so the business at hand developed into play as several streams of water were exchanged between the groups manning the hose. The cool water felt good in the heat of early afternoon but the sun dried it quickly and flesh turned crimson in the process. The trip through the lake was not without incident. A certain Lieutenant decided to take a few snapshots of other ships following behind but the watch- ful eyes of an Army Lieutenant discovered the act and the ship was ordered to a pier as the consequence. In a matter of minutes the Army officer and an aide boarded the ship, demanded surrender of the camera but finally suc- ceeded only in obtaining the film. We were then permitted to continue' our journey through the Pacific set of locks, descending gradually to the port of Balboa. Liberty commenced at sundown. - Balboa was a pretty little town, devoid of activity for it comprised chiefly the residential portion of the canal zone. ln contrast, Panama City, two miles away, was alive with lights and people. Certain districts were ear-marked for early inspection and a perfect stranger to town could have found cash street that night without asking directions. lt was close-quartered formation and the lines were long. The Cocanut Grove and Kelly's instantly became the favorite meeting places and many a sad or humorous story was told with one hand supporting a glass of rum and coke and the other wrapped around some- thing that months later was to become a figment of the imagination . The first evening had its bright spots which climaxed at the yard gates, where most everyone savored the last drops of what couldn't gain entrance be- yond the military guards, whose spirits, in turn, mounted from those who tried the concealment method. The conclusion of the initial evening's festivities wit- nessed scores of merrymakers balancing themselves precariously on the per- ilous plank joining the dock with the starboard 20 mm. platform, Chief De-an's call to man battle stations and a long line, which was assembled for neither chow nor pay, moving slowly aft on the starboard side. The Medical depart- ment never did a fuller night's work in its wartime career. The remaining two 21 l