The Lord Mayor
John Wallace is a retired Navy captain who lives with his wife, Ann, in Kapolei, Hawaii, where he still runs the Honolulu marathon.

In 1961, as a freshly caught ensign, I reported aboard the uss Polk County as the ship was about to head north for exercises off the coast of Washington state. The highlight of our deployment was going to be a rare visit to the beautiful city of Victoria in British Columbia, Canada.

As junior officer on board, I was designated as the officer of the deck upon our arrival. In addition to normal logistics, I also was responsible for ensuring that proper honors were rendered when his honor, the Lord Mayor Percy B. Scurrah, came aboard to welcome us. The commanding officer made it quite clear this responsibility was a high priority.

I checked that the bosun mate of the watch, who would announce the mayor's arrival, was a more experienced sailor who would appreciate the importance of this situation. I drilled him on the announcement: "His Honor, the Lord Mayor of Victoria, British Columbia, arriving." To make sure things were in order, I decided to double-check the public address system.

I knew nothing about the equipment, but it was obvious to me that someone had inadvertently placed the power switch in the "off" position. Throwing the switch to "on," I congratulated myself on averting this potential glitch and returned to the quarterdeck to await Scurrah's arrival.

Word passed when the mayor and his entourage arrived at the head of the pier. The bosun mate of the watch went to the wheelhouse, and all of the officers formed a welcoming party at the head of the gangway.

As our Canadian visitors arrived, the bosun could be heard as he practiced his announcement. Unaware that the microphone already had been turned on, and getting no response to his repeated efforts to key the microphone, the bosun treated all who were within range of the announcement system to an awesome repertoire of profanities he developed over a 20-year naval career: "His Honor ... ? What the #@%& ... the Lord @&# $ ... Who's been #%$&-ing around with this # &*$@?"

The commanding officer fixed a withering glare on me. Scurrah's arrival at the foot of the brow coincided with the bosun's discovery of the out-of-position switch, and the proper honors were finally rendered. The captain stepped forward, prepared to apologize to our Canadian host, when Scurrah stuck out his hand and said with a straight face and a twinkle in his eye, "Captain, can I expect to be sworn at again as I leave the ship, or was that just part of the welcome aboard program?"

A moment passed before they both erupted in laughter. After a tour of the ship, Scurrah left to an unembellished announcement, "His Honor, the Lord Mayor of Victoria, British Columbia, departing."

So wherever you are today, Percy B. Scurrah (and I wouldn't be the least surprised to find you among the highest ranks of Canadian diplomacy), I salute you and always will have a place in my heart for the city of Victoria and the man whose sense of humor may have salvaged a young ensign's naval career.