A taste of freedom

Erie and onwards

Craig grinned as he mopped up the last of the egg yolk from his plate with the final piece of rib-eye steak and devoured it eagerly.

“I’ll be fair, Nat, a full English breakfast still takes number one place, but a proper American steak and eggs breakfast runs it a pretty close second. Just what we needed to replenish our energy after this morning’s swim and beach run.”

“Breakfast invented for astronauts, Boots,” smiled Nat, sweeping up the last of his smoked paprika seasoned potatoes and egg on his fork.

“Remind me to teach you the proper way to hold a fork, Nat,” grinned Craig. “You spear food with it, not hold it upside down and use it as a spoon.”

“Err, Boots, it’s you that has it upside down. Of course, you put food on it like a spoon. That’s why it’s curved.”

“Bloody don’t, Nat. It’s a spear. Obviously ‘er Maj would be too polite to say anything if she saw you using a fork like that but Prince Philip would definitely mark your card. My grandad Wright too, he’s a cutler, in Sheffield. You’ll love meeting him. Even if he’ll think you’re a Heathen…”

The server stepped forward to top up their coffee cups and smiled. “Actually, gentlemen, steak and eggs as a breakfast originated in Australia in the Second World War, albeit with the US Navy. When our Pacific fleet harboured in Australia to refuel and re-supply, the main foods that weren’t rationed were steak and eggs, so they became a staple part of the Navy diet. The first astronauts tended to be mainly navy aviators, so steak and eggs kind of developed as a traditional launch day breakfast.”

Craig smiled. “See, Nat. Another reason why we let you lot go. Australia had far more going for it than you revolting peasants…”

* * *

After finishing a hearty breakfast in the hotel restaurant, Nat and Craig gathered their kit together and checked out.

“I trust your stay with us met expectations, Mr Bauer? We value any feedback, especially from our Club members.”

“Everything was fine, wasn’t it, Boots?” said Nat. “I’ll be sure to recommend to pop that we always stay here in future when we come up to Erie. It’s good to see new high-class hotels opening up again. Maybe it’ll regain some of the New York visitors too, just like in the 1930s. They don’t know what they’ve been missing out on.”

“We do hope so, Sir,” smiled the concierge, “I hope you have a pleasant stay for the rest of your day.”

“What are we doing for today?” asked Craig as he lifted his leather travel bag into the trunk of Lemon Steroids, which had been awaiting them right outside the main entrance.

Nat slipped the valet a 20-dollar bill and turned to face Craig across the hood before he opened the driver’s door. “I thought we’d pop over to the maritime museum, you’ll love that. Me too, it’s ages since I last visited. Then perhaps take a boat out on the bay. We don’t have to move on from Erie until mid-afternoon.  Jump in.”

* * *

At 9:30 am the two of them were outside the Erie Maritime Museum as the doors opened, having stopped briefly at the Bicentennial Tower to take in views over the harbour and Presque Isle Bay.

“This way, Boots,” said Nat as he pocketed their tickets and led the way briskly into the museum. “You’ll love this, it’s full of history and the navy and stuff, all about the War of 1812 and how Oliver Hazard Perry kicked your ass. He was our Commodore of the Great Lakes fleet.”

“Err, Nat, I think you’ll find WE won the War of 1812. Our marines sailed up the Potomac and burned your president’s house down for having the temerity to declare war on us behind our backs whilst we were busy fighting the French. That’s why it’s called the White House. It was painted white afterwards to hide the smoke marks…”

“Yeah, maybe so,” grinned Nat, “But who cares about what happens to Washington? It’s a dump. Out here on the Great Lakes Oliver Hazard Perry pulled together a fleet of ships and stood up to the Royal Navy. Set a historical precedent. Never back down and never give up a ship.”

“That’s a pretty succinct summary of the conflict here in 1812,” said a gentleman who stepped out from behind a hoarding emblazoned with the title ‘Meet the enemy.’ Allow me to introduce myself. I’m Stan Mortimer, a curator here. Now, I gather from your accents that you, young Sir, are from Pittsburgh, and you, Sir, might even be the enemy. English? Am I right?”

Craig smiled and pushed in front of Nat. “Dead right, and I’m Wright. Royal Marines Cadet Craig Wright. And don’t worry about him, he’s just a nobody from Pittsburgh. Can’t even use a knife and fork properly.”

Nat smirked as the man smiled. “It’s early, and we don’t get busy for an hour or two. I’d be happy to show you around our exhibits, give you a guided tour as it were.” He smiled at Nat. “Help put your friend back in his box.”

For the next hour the curator guided Nat and Craig around the museum, explaining the exhibits to them. Craig followed on, fascinated, listening intently to every word, Nathan strolling behind, nodding and agreeing with the curator.

“This,” said the curator, pointing to a large blue flag, is a reconstruction of Perry’s famous ensign. “On it are the words, ’Don’t give up the ship’. It was the motto by which Perry lived and was prepared to die. ‘Never surrender.’  He flew it at the Battle of Lake Erie when he faced off against a squadron of British Royal Navy ships. Now, I’ll grant you, the Royal Navy’s presence here was second rate, the best ships and officers being away on duty against the French, but I think you’ll agree, facing up to even a second-rate British Fleet was quite a formidable challenge. A challenge that Perry lived up to. When his flagship, the USS Lawrence was destroyed, he transferred his flag to the brig USS Niagara and continued to fight, eventually prevailing in a glorious victory.”

Craig nodded, enthralled, as the curator continued.

“Some may say it was a small and insignificant victory, fought in an inconsequential backwater, but the victory had disproportionate strategic importance, opening Canada up to possible invasion, while simultaneously protecting the entire Ohio Valley. The defeat of the British naval squadron directly led he death of Tecumseh and the breakup of his Indian alliance.”

“Craig wrote an essay about Tecumseh,” said Nat. “Won a history prize at Allegheny River Military College last year with it.”

“It also set a tradition in the United States Navy,” smiled the curator. “Never give up the ship. When the Lawrence was sinking, Perry transferred to Niagara and continued to fight. The crew of the Lawrence managed to save their ship, saw it return to action. Perry insisted on receiving the surrender of the British captain on board the Lawrence. That precedent, ‘Never give up the ship’ is what saw ships like the carrier ‘Enterprise’ survive Japanese attacks in WW2 when all common sense would mean the sensible thing to do would be to abandon ship. They say in the US Navy that every man, irrespective of rank, is a firefighter first and a sailor second. Even Admiral Raymond Spruance was found by his staff manning a fire extinguisher…”

Craig smiled. “That Spruance guy would get on well with my dad.”

After completing a tour of the museum, the curator led Nat and Craig over to a side exit.

“We have the USS Niagara outside in the harbor today,” said the curator. “She’s going to be taking a short turn about the bay, and visitors can not only go aboard, but also help sail her. Now, there’s lots of controversy about just how original she is, whether she is really a preserved original museum ship like your HMS Victory or HMS Warrior, Craig, or whether she’s more truly just a replica given that much of her timbers have had to be replaced over the years as they rot away, and she also has a diesel engine, radar and modern navigation system to comply with safety rules, but I think you’ll find she at the very least preserves the experience of what it was like to man a sailing ship of the 1800s…”

Nat grinned and, before Craig could utter a word, mimicked Craig’s accent and said, “Of course we’re bloody well going to go aboard her. Sail her too, if they let us.”

* * *

“Heave down hard on that line,” said the bo’sun as Craig and Nat, stripped to the waist and sweating profusely, pulled on a rope to swing the for’sail about as the USS Niagara tacked back towards the harbor and headed towards the museum quay.  Most of the passengers had chosen to sit on the benches and observe as the museum’s skeleton crew, augmented by a few more athletic visitors, sailed the ship on a three-hour long cruise around Presque Isle Bay for them. As the ship passed the buoy marking the inner quay, the Master switched on the engine and gave the order to furl the sails.  Craig and Nat quickly scrambled across the deck, following the ship’s crew, and stood ready to climb the mast.

“Stand down, sailor,” grinned the leading hand to Craig, “We’ll do this from now on. Health and Safety Rules, I’m afraid. Thanks anyway.”

Craig and Nat stepped back and then Craig followed Nat across to one of the benches where the museum visitors were sat. Craig picked up his discarded T shirt and pulled it over his head as Nat started talking to one of the guests.

“Yes, ma’am,” said Nat. “it’s real hard sailing one of these boats, but we wanted to give it a try. Immerse ourselves in the experience. Now, are these two delightful young ladies your daughters?”

The lady smiled indulgently. “My granddaughters, actually. And don’t I know you? You seem very familiar.”

Nat smiled. “You don’t look old enough to have granddaughters. I’m Nathan Bauer, from Pittsburgh. My pop is Deputy Governor, so you may have seen us on tv. Pleased to make your acquaintance. Allow me to introduce my friend, Craig Wright, from England. Craig, come and say hello to Mrs, err?”

Supressing a scowl, Craig stepped forward and smiled, held out his hand. “Pleased to meet you. I’m Craig. Sorry about the smell. I’ve been working.”

“And pleased to meet you too. I’m Mrs Levy, and these young ladies are my granddaughters, Rebekah and Rachael.  They’re over from Rochester for the summer, visiting me, aren’t you girls?”

The two girls sat alongside Mrs Levy, in their late teens or very early twenties, smiled coyly and nodded.

Nat took the lead again. “We’re very pleased to meet you. Craig and I are on a road trip around Pennsylvania, spending summer before college begins again in the Fall. Are you in Erie for long? We’re just passing through, on our way to Philly. Ain’t that right, Craig?”

Craig smiled. “Yes, ma’am, we’re on our way to Philadelphia. I’m just here on holiday for a fortnight, but Nathan lives here. Down in Pittsburgh.”

“Now that’s right, I knew I recognised you. Your father just announced he’s standing for Governor this Fall. Did a good job as Deputy, especially last winter. Got the ploughs out and the Guard deployed right when needed,” said Mrs Levy. “Saw the tv programme about your college too.” She turned and smiled at her two granddaughters. “Now there’s somewhere to cast an eye for eligible young men, some of the finest in the country.”

Craig grinned at the two girls. “Best move fast though, the good ones get snapped up quickly. I had to make do with the left-overs…”

Rebekah and Rachael both burst out laughing as Nat glared at Craig but Mrs Levy seemed entirely unaware of Craig’s inference as she continued speaking to Nat. “Perhaps you and Craig would join us for afternoon tea once we disembark? There’s a delightful 1950s retro styled diner just along the lake front here that I have been promising to show the girls. Actually, I’m not entirely sure it’s retro: it’s possibly an untouched gem of a survivor from a better age. I remember well when me and my late husband Emmanuel used to come here just after we married and I am sure it was there then. A little faded perhaps, but time does that to us all…”

Nat smiled. “Not to everyone, Mrs Levy…”

“Oh why, that’s so very kind of you to say so,” smiled Mrs Levy. “Girls, didn’t I say the young military college boys were absolute charmers?”

* * *

“What was all that about, Nat?” asked Craig as he dropped down heavily into Lemon Steroids’ passenger seat and buckled up his seat belt. “We’re way behind schedule.”

“Chill out, Boots. We can change plan. That’s the point of a road trip. Be flexible. I’ve got a better idea for tonight. Mrs Levy is the plastics magnate. It was well worth spending an hour or two getting to know her.”

“Plastics magnet?  What the bloody hell are you rambling about, Nat? Plastics aren’t magnetic.”

“Magnate, Boots. Magnate.” Her late husband owned the biggest conglomerate of plastics producers in Erie, which means in the whole state too. It was a real stroke of luck running into her on the Niagara. Worth an hour or two of schmoozing her and her granddaughters in the diner. Could be pretty good for a donation to pop’s campaign fund.”

“So that’s why you were trying to pimp me out to her granddaughters,” grinned Craig, giving Nat a playful punch in the ribs. “I’m just a vote winner for the Bauers.”

Nat smirked as he turned the ignition key, let the engine idle for a few seconds, then turned Lemon Steroids out of the hotel car park and on to the highway. “Yes, come to think of it, you might have your uses after all. Now, switch on the sat nav and programme a route to Bradford, Pa, then grab my phone from the tray there and ask my pop  - he’s button 1 on speed dial - to cancel our hotel in Troy and book us something in Bradford instead. You’ll like Bradford. It’s only about two to three hours away, we’ll be there by eight.”

“Twenty-hundred, Nat”

“That’s what I said, Boots. Eight.”

* * *

“This is it, Boots,” said Nat as he nudged Craig in the ribs and piloted Lemon Steroids off the freeway and into the parking lot of the Holiday Inn Express, Bradford.

Craig snapped awake and looked sheepishly at Nat. “I wasn’t asleep, Nat, I was just resting my eyes.”

“Resting your eyes and snoring like a chainsaw for the last half hour,” laughed Nat.

“I do not snore,” snorted Craig indignantly.

“Do so, and then some,” grinned Nat. “Just ask any of the guys if you don’t believe me. Shane, Noah, Travis, Will…  Travis even threw a boot across the dorm at you one night.”

Craig looked around and changed the subject quickly. “This looks like an okay hotel, Nat.”

“It’s just a budget hotel, Craig, nothing special, but the top hotel in Bradford and the best pop could do at short notice. He called me a while back when I pulled over to take a leak and you were, err, ‘resting your eyes.’ Let’s grab our bags and head in. I doubt they have valet parking and bell boys to carry our bags.”

* * *

“That was a pretty awesome dinner, Nat,” said Craig as he and Nat returned to their room after dining out in a Chinese restaurant recommended to them by the young girl who was on duty at the hotel reception. “You should let me pay for something though, Nat, I can afford it.”

Nat placed his arm around Craig’s shoulder and guided him into their room. “Wouldn’t hear of it, Boots. You and your family wouldn’t let me pay for anything when I stayed with you, so this trip is on me. Got that?”

“Got that, Nat. Except…”

“No exceptions, Boots. That’s an order.”

“You can’t order me around, Nat, I’m not at college now,” grinned Craig.

“True, Boots,” laughed Nat, “But the US and Britain are allies, right? And you are a Cadet Corporal, and I am a Cadet Sergeant Major. Your pop saw me get promoted by a full general. So that means I out-rank you…”

“Out-rank, maybe,” laughed Craig as he kicked off his shoes and pushed Nat onto one of the two double beds in their room, “But not out-class…”