50 Years Ago, Mux arrives in Rio for the first time (11th July)!
(Excerpt from “The Last Gun Ship - History of USS Mullinnix DD-944” - A Historical Novel By Frank A. Wood)
Sun-drenched days filled with plane guard duty, flight operations, and helicopter transfers, and star-studded nights filled with steaming, movies on the torpedo-deck, bullshitting on the fantail ushered Mullinnix to Rio de Janeiro. With the aid of civilian pilot, Captain Mariano, Mullinnix moored port side to the west side of Finger pier, Rio de Janeiro, Brazil the morning of 11 July.
The crow shits! Payday! The holiest day on board ship. In this era, the Navy paid sailors in cold hard cash – green backs baby. Ensign Brown typically kept about $20,000 in cash in the ship’s safe. Much of which was recycled aboard ship. After payday, Brown would collect cash from the ship’s store and the post office – money order sales. Were else was a sailor going to spend his money at sea?
Currency exchange could be a real challenge however. In Rio, Recife, and Salvador, most thought that Ensign Brown was doing them a favor by exchanging green backs for Cruzieros. Truth of the matter, Brown had to pay the Mullinnix’ fuel bill in cash – in Cruzieros!
The payday challenges would increased in Tampico, Mexico. Ensign Brown and petty-officer Guth would trek to the bank ‘on the other side of the tracks’, heavily armed, to fetch pesos for the crew.
There is a built in advantage of a destroyer over larger ships, particularly carriers. Most piers aren’t large enough nor the water deep enough to allow carriers to berth. Destroyers? No problemo! Guess who’s first on liberty call?
Where the pier in Trinidad was an ancient frame of heavy weathered timbers, the Rio pier was all concrete and gleaming steel. Two sets of rails ran down the center of the pier – one for cargo locomotives, the other for a massive crane that dwarfed Mullinnix. The sky was purple and full of gulls as the IMC announced, “secure the special sea and anchor detail”. Lighting crawled through the clouds overhead as those lucking enough to pull liberty left the ship, curious how a ship the size of their own could be moored so close to the city center.
The pier was a perpendicular extension of the main cornish in Rio. As the crew walked under the Eiffel Tower-like structure of the giant crane, there eyes were immediately met by the hustle and bustle of a teeming Rio de Janeiro and its beautiful European-influenced architecture. Many buildings topping out at over twenty stories, some triangular in shape with rounded corners versus the classic rectangular shape with sharp contours. All were different shades of white-washed to tan to light-brown brick with the top stories stair-stepping like ancient pyramids.
Nestled strategically between these imposing giants was the landscaping and architecture of Rio’s humble beginnings. An eye appealing blend of two to three story stucco structures that reminded one of a small Mediterranean village and giant tropical trees casting their shadows over manicured lawns and lush multi-colored flowerbeds.
At Street level, the nightclubs numbered into the dozens. The hues alone were incredible. Everything was dripping in rich, over-saturated color – the club architecture, the costumes, the women – it was like an explosion at the Technicolor factory with Carmen Miranda’s presence at an event that was pending.
The sounds. In the early 1950s Brazilian musicians heard the "cool jazz" of the US and adapted it to a gentler samba rhythm syncopated on the guitar. The result was the reflective, romantic music called Bossa Nova. This beat oozed out of clubs, joints, and dives like wet cement, snail-like, moving, never fast, crawling up the legs of sailors that lingered outside.
The people. Brazilians know how to party, whether it is a post-soccer beer-bash at a beach kiosk, an evening’s entertainment at a roadhouse or a drink at one of the numerous bars and clubs tucked into tight crevices on many streets. With booze served at all hours, the locals drink with friends at corner bars. The real action, sailor-action, didn’t really start until around 2300, when the Bossa Nova clubs open their doors for music, dancing, drinking, and meeting the next perfect woman in your life.
The beaches. Copacabana, Ipanema and Leblon were special for sailors so far away from home. Many parties could be found at the kiosks that lined the beach promenades or around the Lagoa.
The women. With a city proportioned and decked-out like this, the local population of the female persuasion had to be, just had to be, as beautiful as well. The crew was to find out that was the understatement of their enlistment.
To be continued...
Cheers,
Woody
Sun-drenched days filled with plane guard duty, flight operations, and helicopter transfers, and star-studded nights filled with steaming, movies on the torpedo-deck, bullshitting on the fantail ushered Mullinnix to Rio de Janeiro. With the aid of civilian pilot, Captain Mariano, Mullinnix moored port side to the west side of Finger pier, Rio de Janeiro, Brazil the morning of 11 July.
The crow shits! Payday! The holiest day on board ship. In this era, the Navy paid sailors in cold hard cash – green backs baby. Ensign Brown typically kept about $20,000 in cash in the ship’s safe. Much of which was recycled aboard ship. After payday, Brown would collect cash from the ship’s store and the post office – money order sales. Were else was a sailor going to spend his money at sea?
Currency exchange could be a real challenge however. In Rio, Recife, and Salvador, most thought that Ensign Brown was doing them a favor by exchanging green backs for Cruzieros. Truth of the matter, Brown had to pay the Mullinnix’ fuel bill in cash – in Cruzieros!
The payday challenges would increased in Tampico, Mexico. Ensign Brown and petty-officer Guth would trek to the bank ‘on the other side of the tracks’, heavily armed, to fetch pesos for the crew.
There is a built in advantage of a destroyer over larger ships, particularly carriers. Most piers aren’t large enough nor the water deep enough to allow carriers to berth. Destroyers? No problemo! Guess who’s first on liberty call?
Where the pier in Trinidad was an ancient frame of heavy weathered timbers, the Rio pier was all concrete and gleaming steel. Two sets of rails ran down the center of the pier – one for cargo locomotives, the other for a massive crane that dwarfed Mullinnix. The sky was purple and full of gulls as the IMC announced, “secure the special sea and anchor detail”. Lighting crawled through the clouds overhead as those lucking enough to pull liberty left the ship, curious how a ship the size of their own could be moored so close to the city center.
The pier was a perpendicular extension of the main cornish in Rio. As the crew walked under the Eiffel Tower-like structure of the giant crane, there eyes were immediately met by the hustle and bustle of a teeming Rio de Janeiro and its beautiful European-influenced architecture. Many buildings topping out at over twenty stories, some triangular in shape with rounded corners versus the classic rectangular shape with sharp contours. All were different shades of white-washed to tan to light-brown brick with the top stories stair-stepping like ancient pyramids.
Nestled strategically between these imposing giants was the landscaping and architecture of Rio’s humble beginnings. An eye appealing blend of two to three story stucco structures that reminded one of a small Mediterranean village and giant tropical trees casting their shadows over manicured lawns and lush multi-colored flowerbeds.
At Street level, the nightclubs numbered into the dozens. The hues alone were incredible. Everything was dripping in rich, over-saturated color – the club architecture, the costumes, the women – it was like an explosion at the Technicolor factory with Carmen Miranda’s presence at an event that was pending.
The sounds. In the early 1950s Brazilian musicians heard the "cool jazz" of the US and adapted it to a gentler samba rhythm syncopated on the guitar. The result was the reflective, romantic music called Bossa Nova. This beat oozed out of clubs, joints, and dives like wet cement, snail-like, moving, never fast, crawling up the legs of sailors that lingered outside.
The people. Brazilians know how to party, whether it is a post-soccer beer-bash at a beach kiosk, an evening’s entertainment at a roadhouse or a drink at one of the numerous bars and clubs tucked into tight crevices on many streets. With booze served at all hours, the locals drink with friends at corner bars. The real action, sailor-action, didn’t really start until around 2300, when the Bossa Nova clubs open their doors for music, dancing, drinking, and meeting the next perfect woman in your life.
The beaches. Copacabana, Ipanema and Leblon were special for sailors so far away from home. Many parties could be found at the kiosks that lined the beach promenades or around the Lagoa.
The women. With a city proportioned and decked-out like this, the local population of the female persuasion had to be, just had to be, as beautiful as well. The crew was to find out that was the understatement of their enlistment.
To be continued...
Cheers,
Woody
posted by Woody the Muxman at 21:02
1 comments
