02 June 2010
 
Olympia

(Bow of the USS Olympia. Oil on Masonite by Jeffery Alllon)

Man, it is hard to come back to work, and particularly challenging after some international and transcontinental travel. There were sedimentary layers of dirty laundry and loose furniture all over the apartment, and an issue of a neglected Quarterly to get out the door to lay-out.
 
Thankfully, everyone else seems to be in about the same boat, and a little sunburned and querulous just like me. So it was a day of shuffling things around in the in-basket and looking at the thunderclouds outside.
 
 The key issue in Yukio Hatoyama’s decision to step down was his inability to relocate the Marine air base at Futenma in Okinawa. Hillary Clinton pressed back hard, and with tensions rising in the region, it seemed like everything got too hard. Hatoyama did the honorable thing; since he was unable to come through on his campaign promise, he quit.
 
It is a curious thing, honor in a politician. Maybe we should try that here.
 
The centre-left DPJ's election landslide last year ended half a century of conservative rule in Japan, one that played heavily on the strategic junior partnership with the US.
 
The issue is not over, of course, any more than the recalibration of the relationship is. The old Asia hands are in an uproar, as I am sure you have noticed in these scribblings of late.
 
My pal Jim summed up the mood pretty effectively. He is an old shipmate from out in the 7th Fleet, and he noted the cascade of strange news that trailed after in random order, starting with the end of the 40-year Al and Tipper Gore marriage. I don’t know what to think about that, except I wish them both the best with the $10,000 a month electric bill at the house in Tennessee.
 
Then Jim let it all out, saying:
 
“So we get to start all over again, with a weakened main ally in the Fare East. It was a hollow win. Where is the upside in all this?”
 
“Well,” I said tentatively, “The Marines can continue to irritate the Okinawans with noise and pollution and there will be no short term mission degradation?”
 
Jim snorted. “Let's see now. He raised an index finger and I could see he was about to get on a roll. “In addition to a failed Japanese government we now have:
 
An endless war in Iraq…
An endless war in Afghanistan…
A major new crisis in the Mideast…
A truly pissed-off Turkey…
Serious tension on the Korean peninsula…
A major world-wide economic crisis…
The Euro Zone at risk of collapse...
The real possibility of worldwide economic contagion…
Major and pervasive domestic unemployment…
A stock market that had the worst month of May since 1940…”

He wasn’t done but he had run out of fingers. He stopped and then clenched both fists. “To top it off, we have a nasty and apparently un-stoppable oil spill in our part of the Gulf of Mexico, a transparent border with Mexico that requires the deployment of the National Guard to provide some degree of national security!”
 
“Easy, Jim,” I said. “The glass is still half full. We had a great weekend, no one got too burned, the pool is open and there are signs of economic recovery. Besides, the recession never really affected Washington, so come on, how bad are things really?”
 
He glowered at me. “I’ll tell you how bad it is, and it is not a metaphor. Remember the USS Olympia?”
 
“Of course,” I said. “Dewey’s flagship at the Battle of Manila Bay. Big reverse swoop bow. One of Teddy Roosevelt’s Great White Fleet, the basis of America’s colonial presence in the Far East.”
 
“Yeah- oldest surviving steel-hulled warship in the world. Historic symbol of America’s naval tradition, and a world historic site.”
 
“I didn’t know she was still afloat. That is pretty cool. Where is it? I would like to walk her decks, like we used to on Admiral Togo’s flagship IJN Mikasa back in Yoko.”
 
“Well, she is a memorial in Philly right now but you better act now. She is sinking at the pier, twenty-five patches in her hull and two compartments open to the tide. The museum is threatening to sink her as a reef to promote sport fishing.”
 
I looked at him in dumb amazement. “You mean like they did to Oriskany down in Pensacola? It was hard to watch them get the O-Boat ready to die, which is something no enemy could ever do.”
 
“Well, if we don’t come up with $20 million bucks, Olympia goes down by the bow this summer, my friend. That is chump change, but I am a little short this week.” He began throwing things in his briefcase.
 
“Shoot,” I said. “I would like to help. Along with Nelson’s flagship Victory, Old Ironsides and Mikasa there are not many ships left of their eras. Olympia is really important.”
 
“Apparently not that important. She is fish habitat unless we do something.”
 
“Oh come on, Jim. This is like what the Park Service does every year at budget time when they threaten to close the Washington Monument for lack of funds. It will never happen.”
 
Jim picked up his briefcase. “I have a meeting down town. I will have to tell you more about it tomorrow. But remember this: the Washington Monument is never going to sink under the Potomac of her own weight. Some places you can stuck a pencil through Olympia’s hull.”
 
I watched him sweep out of the office. “Damn the torpedoes,” I said to no one in particular, “I need to know more about that.”

(Stern Quarter of USS Olympia at the Independence Seaport Museum)

Copyright 2010 Vic Socotra
www.vicsocotra.com
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