Aboard John Adams, Joe Littleton was on the bridge with one Quartermaster and one helmsman. Hundreds of sailors were usually involved in a sea-and-anchor detail to get a carrier underway and out of a port, but he had to do it with a skeleton crew. First, he needed propulsion. Raising the anchor was next. He grabbed the 1MC ship’s loudspeaker microphone and held the transmit button down for the first time in his career.
“On John Adams, this is the Command Duty Officer. Now set the special sea-and-anchor detail. John Adams is getting underway in five minutes. Set modified material condition Zebra throughout the ship.” He turned to the helmsman.
“Are you a qualified sea-and-anchor detail helmsman?”
“No, sir!” the young sailor answered.
“You are now. Connect to aft steering and engineering. You are going to work the lee helm, too, until we get some help up here.”
The stunned and scared sailor whispered, “Yes, sir!” and looked at the lee helm console, not sure where to start. Littleton contacted engineering control.
“Are you ready to get underway?”
“Yes, sir, we’ll need another ten minutes…”
“You’ve got five,” Littleton barked and hung up, calling the anchor windlass room next. It had sufficient personnel to get the anchor up off the bottom, but no chief was yet there to supervise. Littleton ordered them to begin kedging the chain, which would serve to position John Adams’ bow toward the channel and open water. When the anchor was aweigh, then sighted and clear, he was betting the engineers had enough steam to at least put some turns on the screws. It would be close. Littleton dialed the Officer of the Deck.
“Fantail, CDO, is everyone off the ferry?”
“The last of them are coming aboard now, sir.”
“Very well, cast off the ferry and then cast off the camel, we’re gettin’ underway.”
“Sir, I see a small yacht coming toward us from fleet landing, about a mile off…”
“Cast off, Mister Sheehan!” Littleton shot back, knowing he had no time to lose. He had needs in the Operations Department, Air Department, Weapons Department as well as Engineering and Deck to get John Adams underway and out of Chinese waters. He had to get the crew’s attention and convey a sense of urgency.
“And Mister Sheehan, sound General Quarters. This is no drill!”
In seconds, the 1MC sounded: “General quarters, general quarters, all hands man your battle stations, up and forward on the starboard side, down and aft on the port side!”
As the GQ gong intoned on the loudspeaker above him, Littleton saw sailors, still in their liberty “uniforms,” rush across the flight deck to their stations. Some moved up forward to haul down the dress-ship lighting, and others started tractors to move airplanes. Outside, he heard the bark of the flight deck 5MC loudspeaker. “Flight quarters, flight quarters, all hands man your flight quarters stations!”
In minutes, USS John Adams was awakened from a sound slumber by a partial crew who expected her to begin a full-out dash in only minutes more.
On the yacht, Captain Paganelli detected movement. The ferry — and then the camel— floated clear of his ship.
“Mate, where do I dock this thing?” Jack asked him.
With the camel gone, Paganelli didn’t have a ready answer. He called Littleton.
“Joe, this is the captain. We’re about a mile aft of you. I’m on a private yacht with the Air Boss and some JOs.”
“Aye, aye sir, but we are weighing anchor and will be underway in minutes.”
“Good, keep going. We’ll be there in a few; I can jump if I need to.”
Paganelli directed Jack to the starboard side of the carrier. “Come up under the island, the superstructure.”
A confused Jack didn’t understand. “The whole thing is a superstructure, mate.”
“The tower! They are going to lower a ladder you can tie off on.”
“Is that thing moving?!”
“If it isn’t, it will be in minutes. We’ll jump from your port rail. Get as close as you can.” Paganelli took out a business card, wrote on the back, and handed it to a nervous Jack who pointed at the twinkling lights of a harbor police boat far to starboard but heading toward them.
“What is this bloke doing?” Jack asked to no one in particular as he watched the boat to his right.
“We’ll take care of you, and you call me first,” Paganelli told him.
Jack studied the American — whom he had just met — and took his measure. The hulk of the carrier grew bigger as the police boat drew closer. Both men were men of the sea and assisted mariners in distress. Joanna stepped into the cockpit and stood close to Jack, now concerned that this small favor had serious strings attached.
“All of you,” Paganelli said, nodding that he meant it.
Jack gave him a look of tight-lipped skepticism, and glanced back to the carrier. “You ship seems to be leaving without you,” he said.
John Adams was moving, first by the kedging of the anchor and then at a slow pace. Once the anchor chain was up-and-down, Littleton had enough steam for John Adams to answer a slow bell. With the anchor off the bottom, the ship moved ahead slowly, all the power Littleton had at the moment until the reactors could heat more steam to drive the turbines. A small wake began to form behind the carrier as the screws turned in the harbor waters, and before the anchor was sighted and clear, the chain links formed their own wake as 100,000 tons of ship headed out to sea.
Jack had to dodge the floating camel barge which had a bewildered Chinese man on it, and came up the great carrier’s starboard quarter. As Jack brought the yacht close aboard, they could see the extended starboard accom ladder and what appeared to be sailors in the darkness.
I can’t believe we are doing this, Paganelli thought.
Jack had had it. “What’s going on mate, really?” He was in no mood for bullshit.
“The Chinese slimed one of our cruisers in the SCS… nerve agent. Hundreds reported dead. Seventh Fleet has ordered me out of here now.” To their right, the Chinese police boat, lights still flashing, drew closer in constant bearing, decreasing range. Soon, a siren became audible. Joanna watched the scene play out in front of her with fearful eyes. Jack?
“And you want me to come alongside your boarding ladder while the ship is moving?”
“Yes, please. You have my card, and we’ll cover damages.”
“Those guys are going to arrest us as soon as they get here!” Jack said, pointing to the police boat.
“We’ll give you asylum,” Paganelli said. “It is vital to the United States that we get aboard and get the ship into international waters. We offer asylum, and we offer reward and repayment.” He tried to sound as convincing as possible, still not sure he could deliver on anything but asylum.
“And the sheilas?”
“Yes, all of you,” Paganelli answered. The dark hulk of John Adams loomed above, as sailors on the weather deck sponsons watched them in the dim light.
Dammit! Jack thought as he looked at his wife. “Go below and get your essentials into a fanny pack and put on a life jacket.”
“Jack, you can not be serious!” Joanna protested.
“I’m serious! Tell Gayle. Alan! Rig the fenders, we’re comin’ alongside. And get your wallet and camera.”