It was 1989. I was a CTR2 on my first Western Pacific deployment, stationed at NSGA Pearl Harbor, Hawaii, serving as a direct support operator. I received TAD orders to report to USS ENTERPRISE (CVN-65), homeported in Alameda, California. The Enterprise was 26 years old, and this would be the “Big E’s” final deployment — a round-the-world cruise before heading to the Philadelphia Naval Shipyard for decommissioning. Hence the patch: “Final Voyage.”

As we got underway and passed beneath the Golden Gate Bridge, it looked like hundreds of people lined the span, tossing flowers down as a sign of appreciation. Unfortunately, mixed in with the flowers were bricks and rocks, and everyone on the flight deck suddenly found cover in a hurry.

Once clear of the channel, we headed south to Southern California to embark the air wing, then turned north up the West Coast of the United States and Canada, around the Aleutian Islands, and across the Pacific — skirting the eastern side of Japan before entering the Sea of Japan.

While operating in the Sea of Japan, I was tracking a potential threat aircraft to the Big E and reported it to the Commodore in CVIC. As a CTR2, I figured my responsibility ended there.

Thirty seconds later, the Commodore came back on the circuit and asked, “What’s the aircraft doing?”

I responded that it was likely conducting mirror-image strike tactics against the Big E.

Again, I thought the exchange was over. Thirty seconds later, he came back: “What do you recommend?”

That question stopped me for a split second. I was a CTR2. He was a Captain. But I answered: I recommended launching aircraft to establish a combat air patrol (CAP) between the possible hostile aircraft and the Enterprise.

Within seconds, the 1MC announced the launch of ready aircraft. Minutes later, two F-14 Tomcats were airborne. SSES was located directly beneath the flight deck, so we heard launches every day — but this time felt different. I couldn’t believe that my recommendation had just launched two $70-million fighters into the sky.

That was the hook for me.

Forty-five days after departing Alameda, we dropped anchor in Hong Kong harbor for a liberty call. We rode an hour to shore in Chinese junk boats. Naturally, the first thing a group of Sailors did was find a British pub. It seemed odd that everyone inside was wearing costumes — until we realized it was October 31. We had just walked into a Halloween party. When you’re at sea that long, you lose track of time.

About a month or so after getting underway from Hong Kong, my detachment ended. I was catapulted off the Big E, landed in the Philippines, and then made my way back to Pearl Harbor.

That first deployment — and the moment a Captain asked a CTR2 for a recommendation — sealed it for me.  I was a lifer.

As a side note, instead of decommissioning after that deployment, Enterprise entered the Philadelphia Naval Shipyard for an extensive refueling and complex overhaul, including re-coring her nuclear reactors. After completing the overhaul, she was homeported in Norfolk, Virginia, and continued serving the fleet until her final decommissioning in 2017 — concluding an extraordinary 55 years of service.