USS Growler
A submarino in my native Buenos Aires is a concoction made with steamed milk and dark chocolate. A tall glass encased in a metal framework is brought to your table (in any neighbourhood bar/café) with a large stick of dark chocolate inside and a long spoon. It melts. In winter this is glorious.
A submarino in my native Buenos Aires is a concoction made with steamed milk and dark chocolate. A tall glass encased in a metal framework is brought to your table (in any neighbourhood bar/café) with a large stick of dark chocolate inside and a long spoon. It melts. In winter this is glorious.
Until the events around the doomed ARA San Juan happened a
few months ago my knowledge of submarines was a bit better than average. During
my stint in the Argentine Navy (Armada República Argentina) in the mid-60s I had
to translate into Spanish some of the operating manuals for a GUPPIE (post WWII
vintage) submarine that was being purchased from the US Navy. I went on board
many times. I sort of knew what to expect this past week when Rosemary and I entered
the USS Growler docked next to the USS Intrepid in New York City.
The Growler was that in-between old technology and new (atom
powered) submarines during the cold war. A testament to this was a Regulus
cruise missile on deck.
Perhaps the one feature that hits home when you enter a
submarine like the Growler is that it has only one central corridor for aft to
stern. And it is all green.
I thought that taking pictures using my dedicated iPhone3G
(no SIM card) camera instead of my Fuji X-E3 was the logical way to go. Some of
the pictures are not quite sharp. I like that.
A man from Costa Rica snapped Rosemary’s picture with her
iPhone7.
