I was just one of the more than 2,660 people aboard the USS Abraham Lincoln yesterday when it arrived home in Everett. I felt a little of what the crew must have been feeling as I stood on the flight deck while the ship eased its way into Port Gardner Bay, the crowds cheering, the private boats escorting us it, the vintage planes flying overhead. I could see why coming home is such an overwhelming experience.
On my last night on the Lincoln I had trouble sleeping, albeit not for lack of exhaustion.
"You've got 'channel fever,' " Master Chief Petty Officer John Barnett told me.
Channel fever, in case you don't know, is something sailors get during the last few nights of a long voyage. It's the excitement and anxiety over returning home. You know you're about to transition from living below decks, surrounded by cold, gray steel, pungent fumes and loud noises.
You know you're almost home.
But there is something awe-inspiring and calming about watching the orange sun slip below an endless horizon of water from the Lincoln's bridge. There is something comforting in the way the ship rocks you to sleep at night.
And then the ship docks and you are thrust back into the life you left behind. It can feel a little jarring.
It was great to come home and not worry about wearing flip-flops in the shower, choosing what time I eat, what my dinner selection will be and just enjoying the quiet of my own apartment.
I'm not a sailor, but I was lucky enough to spend 10 days and nine nights with those aboard the Lincoln, long enough to appreciate how hard these men and women work. It was an experience I will never forget.
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