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From the USS Kitty Hawk, Seaman Monasol Teron reaches out to her husband on the USS Cowpens during an underway replenishment Thursday in the northern Persian Gulf.

From the USS Kitty Hawk, Seaman Monasol Teron reaches out to her husband on the USS Cowpens during an underway replenishment Thursday in the northern Persian Gulf. (Kendra Helmer / S&S)

From the USS Kitty Hawk, Seaman Monasol Teron reaches out to her husband on the USS Cowpens during an underway replenishment Thursday in the northern Persian Gulf.

From the USS Kitty Hawk, Seaman Monasol Teron reaches out to her husband on the USS Cowpens during an underway replenishment Thursday in the northern Persian Gulf. (Kendra Helmer / S&S)

Petty Officer 2nd Class George Teron, on the USS Cowpens, grins while talking about how he met his wife, Seaman Monasol Teron, who is serving on the USS Kitty Hawk.

Petty Officer 2nd Class George Teron, on the USS Cowpens, grins while talking about how he met his wife, Seaman Monasol Teron, who is serving on the USS Kitty Hawk. (Kendra Helmer / S&S)

PERSIAN GULF — A few weeks ago, Seaman Monasol Teron strolled outside around the aircraft carrier USS Kitty Hawk as it was getting refueled.

Looking past the refueling ship that had pulled up alongside, she saw a familiar cruiser also getting some gas.

“That’s my husband’s ship!” she said, as she ran to the computer.

After pounding out a frantic note, she rushed back outside.

“By the time I got up here, he was out there waiting,” said Monasol, who started jumping up and down and blowing kisses to her husband, Petty Officer 2nd Class George Teron, who is stationed aboard the USS Cowpens.

Since that unexpected encounter, the Terons have kept track of replenishment schedules.

If the timing is right, they get a chance to see each other.

In the 50 days since their ships left Yokosuka, Japan, for the Persian Gulf, the Terons have met three times — from a distance of 500 yards.

On Thursday, Monasol Teron studied her husband through the choppy seas.

“It looks like he’s dancing. What’s he saying?” the 23-year-old asked herself.

She peered through binoculars and cupped a hand behind her ear to prompt George Teron to repeat his gestures. “Oh … he’s saying “‘Happy birthday.’”

They throw kisses for nearly an hour and gesture “I love you” like school kids, drawing curious stares from their shipmates and from sailors on the replenishment ship in between them.

Earlier in the week aboard his guided-missile cruiser, George Teron talked about how he met his wife-to-be two years earlier at A-school in Great Lakes, Ill.

“I don’t tell her this, but I knew there was something special there right away,” the 22-year-old electronics technician said with a wide grin.

The two only spent five days together, but wrote daily until they met again for a few days in New York City.

In Times Square, he professed his love.

Monasol Teron moved to Japan to be a dentalman on the Kitty Hawk. George Teron followed shortly thereafter.

They planned to return to New York City to get married on Sept. 17, 2001.

When the planes hit the World Trade Center, the two sailors were in Yokosuka’s fleet center. The base went to Threatcon Delta, and the two were stuck on their ships for three days.

“I had to e-mail her and tell her our plans had been postponed,” he said.

They saw each other briefly Sept. 14 before the Kitty Hawk headed west and the Cowpens toward Guam. After Christmas, they hopped on a plane to Guam.

“I was in flip flops, she was in a tank top,” he said of their wedding day. “They told us, ‘We can get you in right now.’ I looked at her and said, ‘I’m ready if you are.’”

In the two years they’ve known each other, they’ve spent about six months together. They are scheduled to transfer to the States in December. Until then, they look forward to distant glimpses of each other through binoculars.

“After about 30 minutes, he gets kind of seasick from looking through the binoculars,” she says.

They gesture “I love you,” and “me, too” repeatedly.

“That’s all we can do. I don’t know what else we can do,” Monasol Teron says, laughing at his attempts to gesture more. She tells him to take off his hat.

“I think he shaved his head,” she said, craning her neck for a better view. “He knows I like that.”

The two are never far apart; their ships are in the same battle group and often are visible across the water.

“Even though I know he may not be outside,” Monasol said, “I just look at his ship sometimes because I know he’s there somewhere.”

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