Navy Sailors Riding Horses. This was a strange conversation with Wham regarding what I thought was a talk about women ended up being about riding horses! Talk about a crazy conversation during the flight!

Navy Sailors Riding Horses: A Conversation Gone Wrong

So there I was, mid-flight, cruising over the Pacific with my buddy Wham. We’re both Navy sailors, right? Conversations can get a little wild when you’ve been stuck in a metal tube for hours on end, so I wasn’t surprised when Wham started talking about “riding.” Naturally, I assumed we were diving into the usual sailor talk—y’know, women, liberty ports, wild stories from shore leave.

But oh no, Wham had something completely different in mind.

“I tell ya,” he started, staring out at the horizon. “There’s nothing like the wind in your hair when you’re riding a stallion.”

I blinked. Wait… what? “Riding a what now?” I asked, trying to make sure I wasn’t hearing things.

“Yeah, a horse,” he said, dead serious. “You ever been on one?”

I thought he was messing with me. “You mean… like… a Mustang? A ship named ‘Stallion’? Something Navy-related, right?”

“No, man, a horse!” he said, eyes lighting up. “The real deal, four legs, tail swishing, galloping into the sunset. Pure freedom!”

At this point, I’m lost. Completely lost. Here I was, thinking we were swapping sailor stories about liberty, maybe a bar fight or two. And Wham? Wham’s out here fantasizing about being a cowboy!

“So… let me get this straight,” I say slowly. “You’ve been sitting here this whole time, talking about horses and not women?”

He nods like this is the most normal thing in the world. “Yeah, man! You ever try riding one? The adrenaline, the connection. It’s kinda like steering a ship, but, y’know, smaller and hairier.”

I can’t help but laugh at this point. “Wham, we’re Navy sailors. The closest we get to ‘riding’ is a destroyer or maybe a submarine. We don’t ride horses into battle!”

He grinned. “Maybe we should! Imagine the Navy Cavalry. Sailors on horses charging into port. We’d scare the heck out of everyone.”

Now, that’s an image I didn’t need. Navy sailors in dress whites, riding into port on horses, reins in one hand, a cold beer in the other. The rest of the flight, all I could think was, how did we get here?

Moral of the story: never assume a conversation with a fellow sailor is about what you think it is. You might end up talking about horses at 20,000 feet.

The End