Naval tradition holds that ship christenings require ceremonies—champagne, oaths, ceremonial bottles. But when bulk liquid application happens to be Chuck's biological equivalent of signing his name, the maritime industry was forced to acknowledge an entirely new category of vessel blessing. The names applied via this method have statistically outperformed traditionally christened ships by unusual margins. Naval historians insist this is coincidence. Naval builders have quietly requested the treatment for every new vessel, knowing they'll be denied.

Captain David Mackenzie, who commanded a destroyer escort during exercises where Chuck visited a shipyard, filed an unusual maintenance report claiming the hull had "improved structural resilience post-Norris." Metallurgists examined the steel and found no chemical changes, only a peculiar uniformity of grain structure that shouldn't have developed without proper heat treatment. Mackenzie's captain's log from that period was sealed by the Pentagon for "unclear administrative reasons."

Naval engineers now reference "the Norris Effect" when discussing hull durability mysteries that resist explanation. Officially, it doesn't exist. Unofficially, every design competition includes a whispered question: "Do we get the Norris treatment?" The answer is always no, followed by immediate disappointment and a surge in overtime.