About one year ago, I was either sitting in front of my computer think of nothing or I was sitting on the pot, when a thought from the past hit me in the head.  The Atule, oh yea that big dark, damp, noisy, smelly, uncomfortable, sea sick making, friendship creating, home that I once had. I wonder what ever happened to it?

I got on the Internet, something that I was very new to, and started "searching." I didn't really know how to search, but I started something that has not stopped yet. I found very little of the "thing" that I truly loved. The Atule. 

I found Neal Stevens’ "Shipmate Message Center Board # 1" I don't know how I stumbled on to it, but I did. I found a guy named "Steamboat" who said that he had been on the Atule. (What the Hell kind of name is that anyway?) I sent him an E-mail to introduce myself to him and signed my name Gary Walker. (Maybe I should have called myself "Battleship" something manly) I didn't hear anything for about two weeks. 

That guy named "Steamboat" sent a very nice letter for a suspicious type. We sent messages back and forth for a couple of days. Then a blast from the past hit me right in the forehead. Eric tried to kill me with his pen. It seems that we had left some unsettled business, 30 years ago. Man I hate this E-mail sh#t.

Eric was one of my closest friends. It was so good to hear from him, but our hidden problems, at first seem monumental.  Something that started with such good intentions brought horrible feelings. I didn't know how to respond, but I tried. He shook my 30 years of cobwebs and I shook his. But you know how submariners settle things. F you this, you SOB that, no I didn't, yes you did, and finally who gives a sh#t, what have you been doing for the past 30 years. It is so good to know that he's still out there.

Slowly but surely I started to receive e-mails from all over the country. There was no Website that I could find, so I decided to start one. I didn't have a clue how, but I felt that the Old Lady deserved one. After many long nights, I came to the conclusion that I needed some help. But there was no one around here to ask. I read and article about MS FrontPage 2000 and I was on my way.

From knowing next to nothing, to knowing enough to be dangerous in just one short year.  I now have "found" over 240 post WWII crewmembers and over 40 WWII crewmembers.  I have "found" this Ron Martini’s BBS and you have treated me with the respect that any submariner deserves. None. You treat me like one of your own. (Nice surprise) I have met some of you, boy you guys are getting old. It seems that I'm the only one not aging.

Seriously, you all are like a tranquilizer to me when the day's trials and tribulations have gotten close to "more than enough."

I thank you for being friends………………