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The USS Enterprise and the USS Enterprise

From Mark Krikorian over at NRO, I read this bit of Star Trek nauticalia:

“All I ask is a tall ship …” With the end of the Cold War, the Navy was casting about in the early 1990s for new constituencies. Someone had the bright idea to send the captain of the real USS Enterprise (no, not NCC-1701, but the real Enterprise, CVN-65, the aircraft carrier) to a Star Trek convention during the ship’s three-year-long overhaul in Norfolk. The sailors had a table in the dealers’ room during several conventions, selling shirts and hats and the yearbooks that crews prepare to document their travels; they also raised money for one of the ship’s rec rooms to be refitted in a Star Trek theme.

The captain (I forget his name) was a good sport, genial and avuncular, not at all what you’d expect from a high-ranking military officer in that situation. He presented a video he and his crew had done comparing (with a completely straight face) the seafaring and spacefaring versions of the Enterprise, their lengths, displacement, power sources, etc., and happily fielded questions until the session was wrapped up to tumultuous applause. As thanks, he was presented with a custom-made uniform (in the style of the first few movies), which the convention organizers had made from measurements secretly obtained from the captain’s wife. And when he appeared at the next day’s session — in full Star Trek uniform — he was greeted like a god. I don’t know if the Navy ever followed up on this outreach effort, but it was a great example of thinking way, way outside the box.

Heh. Getting the measurements from the Navy Wife was a clever move. Reminds me of the organizers of some SF Cons that invited me: right guys, almost all of ’em: overworked, maintaining order in chaos, good-natured, doing it out of unselfish love for scientifiction.

People sometimes tell me I am more angry in real life, when they meet me at cons, than might appear reading my journal. I react to such comments by belaboring malefactor about the head and shoulders with my stout cane, and having my footmen set the dogs on them. Upstarts! When they crawl away bleeding, I release the carefully-trained blood-seeking killer bees. Call me angry, will they! You don’t know the trouble I have transporting the beehives and their ninja-beekeeper trainers in a stationwagon with three kids going to conventions. (Just kidding. No one at cons recognizes me. My books are not famous enough, not yet. Everyone once in a while someone asks me to autograph a book, but I suspect my wife is just slipping him a fiver to go pretend he’s read it. It’s a pity signing, a pity signing, I tell you! But thank God for such kindness in such readers.)

Actually, the opposite happens: I have read people who think my journal is angry, but when I say the same thing in real life as I say here in my lingering Virginian drawl and a chuckle in my voice, they are surprised at the lack of heat. This is a testament to their innate courtesy: they would not say such things unless they were angry, so they assume I must be provoked by anger before offering an opinion. I would never cane someone in real life, unless he were a New Yorker. In the commonwealth of Virginia, we have concealed carry, so you never know who is packing. Mind your manners, Yankee.

But now we are far from the topic: Con organizers. Great guys! Go hug one today!

I am sure the officers and crew of the real USS Enterprise are used to the kidding that must accompany sharing names with a fictional (but, in this day, more famous) ship of the same name. You can see a little homage to Capn Jean-Luc in the middle of this odd, odd video made by the sailors: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bTEKqUQCqHU

Go Navy!

About

John C. Wright is a practicing philosopher, a retired attorney, newspaperman, and newspaper editor, and a published author of science fiction. Once a Houyhnhnm, he was expelled from the august ranks of purely rational beings when he fell in love; but retains an honorary title.

September 29, 2007 @ 3:20 pm
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