On a cruise to the Caribbean one hot September day We took a break from war games and entered Gitmo Bay We hove up to dockside and looked for help to berth Those watching our arrival seemed of little worth That confused gang of locals was milling all about Not understanding what was wanted shrugged to express their doubt The Captain on the bridge cried out. Enough of this hullabaloo Find me a man to speak their language to tell them what to do Matt the gunner stepped right up. I'm your man says he I'll have us tied up in a trice I'm impatient for liberty Matt grabbed a bullhorn whose sound carried a mile Looked to the Captain and the crew and with a gleeful smile Raised the bullhorn to his lips and shouted for all to hear “TAKE EL ROPO TO EL DOCKO” Stunned into motionless silence were those on the dock below Who then in instant compliance when that stentorian order came clear With choreographed precision tied us smartly to the pier They bowed and grinned in appreciation for who made the trip Who in uproarious laughter applauded their fine seamanship The Captain doubled over in laughter, arose wiped a tear from his eye Gave thanks to Matt the gunner. Well done he said with a sigh Donald E Gudbrandsen RM3 53 -55 Reminiscence of the 1953 Caribbean Cruise of the Fred T. Berry DDE 858