At the outbreak of the Second World War, Uncle Herbivore was working as a crabber in Chesapeake Bay. Making his living on the water, it was natural that he should immediately tackle the problem of German submarines, many of which were then lurking off the coast. He soon devised a giant crab pot, one large enough to hold several U Boats, and submitted his plans to the Navy. While waiting for a reply, he began making the necessary modifications to his boat, an old Chesapeake Bay deadrise affectionately named the Popeye.
On a quiet Sunday in July, 1942, Uncle Herbivore was out on the bay with his faithful first mate, Alonzo Duffle. Things were going well, and Uncle Herbivore was pulling in a heavily loaded crab pot, when, without the slightest warning, he threw his back out. Bent over the gunnel like a hairy, vaguely obscene question mark, and unable to move, he called to his loyal (but somewhat slow) first mate.
"'Lonzo! He'p me out!"
'Lonzo, puzzled as to why his beloved captain should give him such a strange order, nevertheless hastened to obey, giving Uncle Herbivore a hearty shove in the posterior, which did indeed "he'p him out."
As Uncle Herbivore went over the side, still rigidly bent into a question mark, his size seventeen brogans caught 'Lonzo a smart clip under the chin. Now, 'Lonzo wasn't wrapped too tight to begin with, and that blow to the mandibles didn't do a thing for his already deplorably low IQ. On top of that, it knocked him up against the throttle lever, and old deadrise took off with a sudden roar.
For his part, Uncle Herbivore was in the water, astride the crab pot. And the buoy line was still secured to the Popeye.
It should have been a simple matter to pull himself aboard, except that his back was still out, and the deadrise was making about eight knots, thanks to a few improvements Uncle Herbivore had made in its engine. Frantically, he tried to signal 'Lonzo to throttle back.
Now, 'Lonzo was dyslexic, which meant that on a good day, he couldn't tell back from front, left from right, or his patootie from a hole in the ground. So he shoved the throttle forward a few notches, and Uncle Herbivore's souped up engine responded with a bellow. The old deadrise gave an alarming shiver, then seemed to get into the spirit of things and threw up a rooster tail that could be seen clear across the Bay. Uncle Herbivore was jerked forward by the sudden acceleration, and to this day he claims that he and the crab pot left the water entirely and came sailing along behind the deadrise like a kite, only touching the water now and then, "So's to keep in practice," as he put it.
The crabs, frantic at their sudden transition to an airborne mode of travel, began to attack Uncle Herbivore's underparts, which prompted him to issue new instructions to 'Lonzo, who shoved the throttle forward a few more notches.
At this point, the crab pot disintegrated, dumping Uncle Herbivore, still bent into a U, back into the drink. Crabs, brogans, sou'wester, snuff tins, french postcards, and other miscellaneous items went in all directions. 'Lonzo, alarmed at Uncle Herbivore's sudden disappearance, shoved the throttle forward all the way, and the old deadrise came to a plane.
Uncle Herbivore, still bent into a U, with the buoy line tangled around his fist, felt himself hauled bodily out of the water. With his size seventeens projecting in front of him, the added speed of the boat was enough to bring him to a plane.
They rounded Plum Tree Point at about thirty knots, with Uncle Herbivore skiing along behind the deadrise on one foot, while he tried frantically with the other to dislodge a particularly determined crab from his unmentionables. It was at this point that the Holiness Gospel Church let out. The members of the congregation were astounded to see Uncle Herbivore walking on water, talking in tongues, and performing other feats mentioned in the Bible. As the deadrise squared away for Old Point Comfort, the faithful piled into their cars and raced along the shore, hoping for a sign that would tell them the meaning of such marvels, and followed by other members of the community who were anxious to see if Uncle Herbivore could turn water into wine.
Now, the Virginia Peninsula was studded with Army and Navy bases, and they were all alert for any possible enemy threat. Spotters at the various military installations immediately detected this strange activity and reported that the Japanese Fleet was coming down from Baltimore, with a German Panzer division covering its flank. The fact that all the seagulls in the Bay were following the Popeye in the belief that Uncle Herbivore had invented a new method of trolling in no way detracted from the impact of this report, and when the anti-aircraft guns at Fort Monroe opened up, it added to what was now shaping up as one of the most exciting Sunday mornings in recent memory. Many people thought the air raid sirens were the Last Trump, and Judgement Day was at hand.
The seagulls responded to the attack, leading to reports that Fort Monroe had been dive bombed with some new and especially noxious chemical. The seagulls, highly indignant over being shot at, were coming around for a second pass, just as the congregation of the Holiness Gospel Church arrived, followed by most of the winos on the Peninsula. After wreaking indescribable horrors on the packed mass of humanity, the seagulls went screaming off in pursuit of Uncle Herbivore, who was heading straight for the Norfolk Navy Yard. With 'Lonzo frantically zig-zagging in an attempt to evade the now thoroughly-enraged seagulls, Uncle Herbivore found himself suddenly slung into the path of two Navy destroyers that came out to investigate. For their part, the destroyers' attention was focussed entirely on the ominous-looking cloud of seagulls pursuing the Popeye.
