Let me begin by saying that I am a Public Affairs Specialist (PA) on temporary assignment duty (TAD) aboard the Coast Guard Cutter Dallas, a 378-foot cutter home ported in Charleston, S.C. I’ve never been stationed aboard a ship (PA billets are strictly land based), although have been TAD several times on various Coast Guard cutters. This, however, is my first time to sail on a 378.

This is meant to be read by someone who has never spent time on a military vessel and is curious about how the crew lives.

Let’s start with the berthing areas. On Dallas they are generally divided by department. The deck department males sleep in the same berth, and the same is true for engineering, support, operations and weapons. Junior females get their own berthing area, regardless of department affiliation, and the same is true for first-class females and males.

There is an average of about 12 -16 people in a berthing area about 20- by 30-feet in size. The same is true for the first-class berths, but they have fewer people in them.

A “three-high” is a set of three racks stacked one on top of the other, bunk-bed style. The lowest rack sits about 6 inches off the deck, the middle rack is about 2 ½ feet above the lowest rack and the top rack is about 5 ½ feet off the deck…give or take a few inches. The lowest rack in a “two-high” is also about 6 inches off the deck, but the second rack is about 3-feet above the second, giving the person below more space than the lowest rack on a three-high.

Each rack is about 2 ½-feet wide, about 6 ½-feet long and at most have about 3 feet of head space…and they are called “coffin racks” for that reason. Most of the rack mattresses are about 2-3 inches thick and made of packed cotton. The mattress rest on the “lid” of the rack, and when you open the lid and there is a storage area about 6-inches deep that runs width and length of the rack to stow your personal belongings. Each crewmember also has a locker in their berthing area to stow his/her things as well.

I am in the top rack of a two-high and many nights, especially after a hard work day or in rough seas, climbing into the rack takes planning, strategy and strength. I step on the bar of my shipmate’s rack below and try to time my ascent with a nice roll of the ship. During my first week aboard Dallas, my arms, shoulders and thighs ached only from getting in and out of my rack. And I’m in a two-high, just imagine those three-highs!

When I am finally in the rack, there is a variety of hard, sharp objects to bang my head on. Seriously, the first week I had bruises all over the top of my head, and it hurt to wash my hair. But, I’ve gotten used to things now and I’ve only banged my heat twice this week, although hard enough to bring tears to my eyes and have me cursing like a sailor.

Regardless of rack height, trying to shift while in the rack without falling out takes skill and timing, especially in rough seas. At most, even the roomiest of racks has only about 2 ½ to 3 feet of width and head space to maneuver, and usually by reveille my blanket are in a ball at my feet or wrapped around me like sausage casing.

Each rack also has a small, florescent “rack-light” on the bulkhead side of the rack. Some are attached to the bulkhead and some are mounted to the rack above. Since I’m on the top of a two-high and there is no rack above me, mine is attached to the bulkhead. The lights are handy for reading in bed and looking for your blankets in the middle of the night. Mine even serves as a convenient shelf for books, an alarm clock and fast-acting pain medication. :o)

But, like most things, one becomes accustomed to their space and how to live in it efficiently. Although I won’t miss my rack once I’m home, the seas have been calm and I will miss the soothing lull of the ocean waves rocking me to sleep at night.

Next week, showering in a 2x2x7 foot metal box!