The smell of diesel fuel doesn’t come across my senses very often but when it does my mind immediately goes back to a night I spent with my dad aboard a tuna boat when I was a kid.

Dad first went to sea when he was fifteen years old. About the time he was 30 he became a commercial tuna fisherman. He would be out to sea two to three months then be in San Diego, his home port for a couple of weeks to unload the tuna, take on new supplies, then go back out to sea. This worked out very well for my parents’ marriage. My mom was determined to be the boss of the family; making all, yes I mean all, of the decisions and my dad was just as determined to let her. I don’t think he ever signed a check, went to the bank, or bought a car, my mom did it all. My dad was so quiet, when his ship was in port he might not have been in the house.

If someone asked my dad a question: “Kenny, how are you doing?” My mom would always answer for him. “He’s doing real well; the boat came in with a full load of fish last week.” Or my grandfather might ask, “How are your navigation studies going?” 

My mom would jump in and answer before my father could take a breath. 

A member of the crew had to stand watch at all times when the boat was in port, it was never left unattended. This was a fun time for the family members. Each crewmember would stand six-hour watches. Traditionally, the man standing watch would bring his family aboard the boat with him. There were goodies to eat, and fun just being together.

My dad drew a midnight to 6:00 am watch one night. Apparently my twin sisters and my mom either didn’t want to go or were busy doing something else so I got to go by myself with Dad. What a treat for me. I got to be the princess; I didn’t have to share 

Dad, I was a very happy kid.

We lived in the government project on Divison Street in National City and didn’t have a car. As busses didn’t run that late we got to take a taxi - my first cab ride. 

There was still a bit of activity of the docks at 11:30 when we pulled up. The gangplank was down and we went aboard. A Japanese man and his wife were sitting in the galley drinking tea and playing cards. When they left Dad pulled up the gangplank and we went back to the galley where it was warm.

Dad made hot chocolate, we had doughnuts, we played checkers - he talked! He told me how important it is to keep your things in order on a boat. How you have to get along with the other men even when you don’t want to. He taught me to play cribbage. He whistled and sang funny songs. 

It must have been about 2:00 am when he asked me if I wanted to go to the wheelhouse. He wanted to work on some maps. Across one whole wall was a map of the world. He showed me where we were, San Diego. Then he showed me where he thought they might be going, Panama. I stood looking at the map and began asking him, “Have you been to Russia, to France, to Alaska, to Hawaii, Puerto Rico, Japan, Korea, China, Poland?” He had been to every major port in the world! My dad! I was shocked, he had been everywhere. My mother is Polish and he began telling me about Poland, The clothes, the food, the people. He knew so much.

I wasn’t the least bit sleepy; I was in awe of my dad. This was a person I never knew existed. He was interesting; no…he was amazing. He explained how a compass works and how stars are still used to navigate. I asked my dad who the boss of the boat was. He told me the captain ran the boat. “Well, who is the next boss down from him?” I asked. He explained that the navigator would take over if something happened to the captain. “What if something happened to both of them?” was my next question. “I guess it would be my job to bring the boat in since I navigate some”. I was shocked. My dad! Could it be that he wasn’t a clunk? Was he actually smart? My dad had a brain; and he was fun!

When it got cold on deck and I got sleepy, my dad pulled a pillow and white, wool Navy blanket off his bunk and made a bed for me in the galley. I felt cozy as I lay there waiting for sleep. I loved the creaking sound as the tires on the outside of the boat bumped into the dock. The smells were a combination of fresh fish, coffee and diesel fuel. I could hear my dad singing a song about two monkeys going on a honeymoon as I was lulled to sleep.

I don’t know what woke me, probably just the dock coming back to life, but when I opened my eyes, I was in another world. The sun was just coming up. Everything, everything in the galley was pink, my blanket, my clothes, the plates and cups, the clock…everything was pink. The portholes were neon orange disks. I jumped up to look out and the whole ocean was pink and orange with huge gold rays streaming right at me. I wanted to get my dad but I was afraid to move fearing I might destroy the magic. I yelled, “Daddy, Daddy, Daddy”. I could hear his feet running overhead, and a couple of seconds later he rode the handrails of the ladder down into the galley. I don’t think his feet touched the steps. “He didn’t say a word; we just sat there watching as the galley got more and more orange. It’s been fifty years and I still take that memory out of my picket and enjoy it.

I guess it was about 5:30 am. When I heard a man’s voice yell, “Hey DuFriend”, (my dad’s name was Kenny DuFriend) “lower the gangplank, the deAngelo family is coming aboard!” Within minutes a very handsome Italian man and his gorgeous wife were coming down the hole into the galley followed by two boys about my age with my dad bringing up the rear. When my dad introduced me he said, "This is Sonnie, my littlest goil”. Mike deAngelo was the boat’s captain. 

Mike said he would fix breakfast for everybody and asked me what I wanted. I was so shy I didn’t know what to say. My dad and Mike decided on pancakes and sausage and both of them began cooking. I noticed how often mike would ask my dad about something. Did he think the weather looked good for sailing the next night? What did he think of the cook he had just hired? Did the radio seem to be working ok after it came back from repair?” My dad was a completely different person. He was giving advice. He was telling the captain what he thought about things. He sounded wise and really confident. I was so proud of him.

The captain’s wife had a bag of different colored baseball caps that said San Diego Fisherman’s Union on the front of them. Without even asking, my dad took the bag over to me and asked me what color hat I wanted. I picked a green one and Dad put it on my head sideways. He took out a green one for himself and put it on his head sideways too. We wore our hats like that all through breakfast and on the way home on the bus. 

Dad was singing and acting silly right up to our front door. As we walked in the house my mom looked up from her sewing machine and said, “Kenny, you need to go to the union and have your pay signed over to me while you are gone.” My dad didn’t say a word, just walked back out the door. As he walked down the sidewalk 

I saw him adjust his cap frontways.