To those on the ship, politics played poorly

"Can you believe that?"

There was revulsion, not wonder, in the tone of the sailor’s voice.

Only a few days had passed since President Bush had touched down on the USS Abraham Lincoln to tell a national TV audience and a grateful going-home group of sailors that the war in Iraq was pretty much over.

The Lincoln had been treading water off the California coast when Bush made a dramatic landing on the carrier’s flight deck, his "Navy One" S-3B Viking catching the 4-wire, the last cable before about an 80-foot drop from the edge of the flight deck to the frigid Pacific.

But some politicians on the mainland, and on the other side of the political aisle, criticized the president’s tail-hook landing as an overpriced photo opportunity.

Word about the partisan sniping traveled fast throughout the ship.

Many sailors couldn’t quite believe it was happening, that the historical presidential visit was becoming cheapened by talk that it was just a well-choreographed display that would win the president votes in the next election.

It was the latest example. On ship or on shore, a person’s position shapes their perception.

Bush didn’t need to land on the Lincoln’s flight deck, or use it later for a presidential platform, to win votes on the ship.

He already had most of them. Had them before, as a matter of fact.

"Al Gore was against guns," Seaman Lucas Crowell said. "From there on out, it was a pretty easy decision."

Bush still pressed as much flesh as a president could, though, during an 18-hour visit aboard the metal maze that makes up America’s largest warship.

It seemed that all but a few of the 4,000 sailors still on board the Lincoln after it left Hawaii had a chance to get close to their commander in chief, shake his hand, say thanks, ask about Texas.

Days followed with sailors sharing stories about their meeting with the president and frantic searches to find who might have taken a photo that would prove it.

Barely 24 hours had passed after the president’s departure before some sailors had changed their computer screensavers with photos of them and Bush.

Some told me they didn’t vote last time around. They will now.

Perceptions on the ship differed with the uniform one was wearing, of course.

For those with clothes usually carried in a sea bag, Bush’s stay was a career highlight.

But string a bunch of red, white and blue press passes around someone’s neck, and the presidential visit became almost another workday, one filled with media turf battles, compressed deadlines and hands-on-forehead headaches caused by inoperable email.

Many media people spent the day of the president’s visit in a less-than-jubilant mood.

After being assembled in Hangar 2 on the carrier and searched for weapons, the press was herded from one presidential event to the next, and brought back to the hangar between events.

Reporters who hadn’t figured out a way to escape from the halo of security people surrounding them sat on their notebooks, frustrated.

The barriers came in batches.

For all but the White House press corps, there would be no using of the presidential platform for a TV backdrop, or no live coverage of the president’s landing except by the Beltway bunch: "We cover the president."

The White House itself made other events off-limits, like the president breaking bread with enlisted sailors.

Shut-out reporters rightfully complained loudly, as if such protests could produce a magical elixir that would evaporate the limits on access to the president. Some apparently also believed such a potion would be more powerful the louder the complaint.

Some sailors were probably happy the snake oil wouldn’t work.

After the president moved around the flight deck after his landing, exchanging small talk and passing out "thanks," photographers on the periphery began to shout at sailors who were blocking their view. "Get out of the way! Get out of the way!"

Some moved and missed their chance to meet the president.

But whether one had a chance to look Bush in the eye and thank him for coming, or just be part of the backdrop for his national speech, sailors throughout the ship spoke in positive and glowing terms about the visit and the president.

He was real. He was personable. He was genuine.

Even those who had less-popular opinions about the president’s visit refused to jump ship, offering a steely stare dressed with a "you-know-what-I-want-to-say" smile.

The most cutting criticism I heard?

When Bush was served a T-bone steak, the highlight of the crew’s last night dinner, and he reached for a bottle of ketchup.

"It was the first thing he grabbed — Pffttt! Pfffttt! Pffttt!" a sailor recalled, adding sound effects for the three shakes of the Heinz bottle. "I was told it was a Texas thing."

He thought for a moment. "Um, don’t use my name, OK?"

Reporter Brian Kelly: 425-339-3422 or kelly@heraldnet.com.