My overseas tour at Naval Security Group Activity Rota, Spain, began in June 1996 after completing the Apprentice Mideast Cryptologic Linguist Specialist (Arabic) course at Goodfellow Air Force Base in San Angelo, Texas. The Navy rate for which I was now qualified was called cryptologic technician (Interpretive), and my rank was petty officer third class (E-4). Put all of that together in Navy enlisted parlance to form CTI3 David G. Dvorak, reporting for duty, sir.
Rota is a small port town at the southwest Atlantic coast of Spain on the Bay of Cádiz. The nearest town of El Puerto de Santa María was where Christopher Columbus, or Cristóbal Colón, began his third voyage to the New World. The area has deep roots in Spanish history. During summer, it is also a popular tourist destination for inland Spaniards, northern Europeans and Scandinavians. The rental prices are much lower, and the water is just as welcoming as the Costa del Sol on the Mediterranean Sea. The town blossoms from roughly 30,000 residents to nearly 100,000 starting June through August. What a fun time to be a young man in the Navy.
The only thing missing was a vehicle. That’s where the infamous “Rota Beater” comes in handy. It’s your typical junker sold by departing sailors to the newest arrivals at Basé Naval de Rota. My particular beater was an orange Renault I purchased for $600. The beater worked great until the head gasket cracked two months later, and I had to get the base auto shop to fix it. That’s when I nicknamed her the Millennium Falcon, because she was just as reliable.
A few weeks later, I deployed to USS La Salle (AGF 3) to provide cryptologic direct support. It was an old Raleigh-class amphibious transport dock that had been retrofitted as a command ship. My watch partner CTT2(SW) Kelley Neal christened her the “Sleek, Grey Merchant of Death.” The ship was home ported in Gaeta, Italy. I left the Rota beater with my friend for safekeeping so she and her husband could have an extra vehicle for their family.
We kept in touch via old-school pen and paper snail mail. One mail call delivered a most heinous letter. Heavy rains in Rota had foundered the Millennium Falcon’s engine, and she’d completely broken down. The piece of junk had actually lived up to her namesake’s sequel reputation. How’s that for karma?
I wrote back to give my friend permission to junk it. That’s when I decided to buy a bike. At least I would save on petrol.
Olé, Rota Beater!
