I suppose it tells you something about my day when I say that the high point was driving a step van. Hmm, "driving" is too strong a word. "Herding" is probably better. Like the bikes, the van shows evidence of the salt air (on the dash board, of all places), and the instrument panel lights don't work. The speedometer doesn't work, and the brakes are touchy. However, since the speed limit is 15 miles per hour in the developed part of Kwaj and 25 along the runway, I don't think I ever seriously threatened public safety. Betty Symonds and I were going back to the Surfway, this time to buy groceries for the last resupply of Woja Island. We had written out the requisition form ahead of time, so we made it through the store in record time. The crew on Woja is staying the second half of the project, so this is just supplies.

The flight bringing my replacement (and a bunch of other KWAJEX replacements) developed a leak in the primary hydraulic system between Honolulu and Johnston Island, so they scrounged enough fluid at Johnston to fill the system and returned to Honolulu. That means a number of us will only have 24 hours to hand off our jobs instead of the planned (and already tight) 48 hours. In my case there are four or five substantive issues up in the air right now. The radiosonde receiver at Meck, the phone at Woja, verification of completeness on data sets, and relief for personnel in a couple of other parts of the project are going to confront Brad as soon as he walks in.

One of the interesting on-going discussions here has been housing. As I described back on 13 August, I had to move from a relatively nice facility with two to a room to one that needs rennovation and has five or seven to a room. Since then, personnel for the various missile missions have continued to arrive, and Kwaj is almost at maximum capacity. As is the case with long-term housing, you can't get mad and go outside the gate to other facilities because there aren't any. Almost nobody is pleased about the housing arrangements, but the reactions fall into two classes. One assumes that rank has privileges. This is actually true on Kwaj, but in the current circumstances you have to have a pretty exalted rank to rate the nice accommodations. A second reaction is that a real bed in a dark, cool, dry, quiet room each night is quite acceptable for the two or four weeks that most of us are here. For those of us in leadership positions, I am also reminded of General Norman Schwartzkopf's autobiography (he commanded Desert Storm). He describes how, early in his career, he learned the maxim, "Officers eat last." The idea is that you look after the troops first, then yourself. From this perspective, I could hardly ask my teams to gracefully accept the Pacific Bachelor's Quarters if I didn't.

Excuse me a minute while I get off my soapbox and put it away . . .

The forecast of suppressed weather verified wonderfully, justifying the "hard down" day we declared for the aircraft. It's an standing joke around the weather office days like this are "hot and dusty" by Kwaj standards. The tradewind cumulus clouds drifted past all day, providing one postcard view aftern another. They occasionally dropped a shower in the distance, but never over us. The wind was light most of the day, so it was indeed pretty toasty if you stood in the sun for any length of time.

George Huffman