From the accident came an outcry for more stringent requirements in the party boat industry. All Captains must be thoroughly trained and licensed; all boats must be brought up to standards set by the US Coast Guard. As for Big Stoop, he became both a hero and an advocate for change. He was one of the first licensed Captains in the northeastern United States. If you ask him what happened that last day of The Pelican, he will not say much of anything, but he sure does a lot of headshaking.
Deep Water
After days of perfect weather it is hard to believe a storm is brewing. There is a light breeze with a slight increasing chop to the waves. The latest advisory warns of the imminent development of a tropical disturbance which means danger to shipping. As a special passenger on the tanker Morning Blue Star, I was assured by the captain we would outrun any potential danger. Looking out over the ocean in every direction I am not so sure. By midday the clouds cover up the sun and the barometric pressure is plummeting. The ship is heavily burdened with a full load of Saudi oil as it plows through the water. The Atlantic this time of the year is usually quite calm. I had signed up for the exclusive chance of getting away from it all. A little rough weather and storm will not spoil my trip.
In the pilot house, I find the captain, helmsman and first mate making preparations for the worst scenario. Better to be safe than sorry. When we first heard of the possibility of a tropical storm the captain was sure the ship could avoid any bad weather. Unfortunately, the storm began forming with us in the middle of the disturbance. No matter what we did we would have to travel through at least part of the storm. The captain pushed the engines as fast as he dared. The last thing he wanted was a breakdown under such conditions.
The advisories rapidly escalated to include all traffic in the area we were located to seek safe harbor immediately. The closest land to us was nothing but one of several tiny islands. Safety depended on passing through the islands toward the Florida coast north or south depending on the direction of the storm. Unfortunately, the speed of the depression was matching ours. We could have reversed direction but that would have left us in the middle of nowhere.
A ship as big as the one I am on is a marvel of engineering: larger than a football field with a volume near the daily output of some production facilities. Standing outside the pilothouse holding onto the rail I watch the bow smashing into the ever larger waves. Slowly the ship begins to oscillate to the pounding rhythm of the sea. The pitch and roll are slow and becoming more acute. I have a hard time imagining the force required to toss the ship so easily, and I go back into the pilothouse.
“Enjoying yourself, Doctor?” the captain smiles weakly. “I think you are in for the experience of a lifetime.”
“I am looking forward to it,” I say. The trip so far has been quite mundane. A little action would certainly be a welcome change of pace. Even in a big storm I am on the safest vessel possible anyway. I have nothing to fear.
“There is no avoiding the inevitable.” The Captain turns to the helmsman. “Ahead full.”
The helmsman frowns. “Sir, do you think that’s wise?”
“Ahead full. At this point we have no choice. The closer we are to shore the better.”
“The engine room is having trouble with the port shaft. It is starting to vibrate. Putting more RPMs to it will make the problem worse.” The helmsman looks worried. “Do you still think it is wise?”
“Damn.” The Captain spins around looks me sternly in the face and gazes out toward the spray crashing across the bow. “It is no use,” he mumbles softly.
I am close enough to hear what the Captain said. It did not inspire a lot of confidence. I could hardly believe we were in much danger. Yet there was something about the Captain that made my blood run cold. I start to ask a question but hold myself back. I have to believe I am in the hands of a trained professional. The weather is just an inconvenience which messes up schedules and nothing else.
The first mate brings the latest advisory to the Captain who reads the notice and gives it back to him. The Captain rubs his face and closes his eyes. He knows he is in a no-win situation.
“Slow to one half,” the captain says and follows with a big sigh. “Batten down the ship. We are in for a rough ride from here out.”
“Is there anything special I should do?” I know I should keep quiet but I have to know.
The Captain gives me a deep penetrating look with his steel gray eyes. At first, I do not know whether he is irritated or angry with me. He shrugs his shoulders and shakes his head.
“Are you a swimmer, Doctor?”
The question catches me completely off guard. I slowly shake my head. Although I am extremely fond of being on the water, I am terrified of being immersed in it. “Why do you ask?” I manage to stutter.
“In all my years at sea,” the Captain drone. “I have learned one thing well and that is never underestimate the power and fury of the elements. The latest advisory declares the storm around us as Hurricane Jeremy. It is rapidly intensifying and is predicted to become a class 5 storm. We have not felt hardly anything because we have been sailing in the eye. Things are going to change very quickly and soon. I want you to be prepared for the ride of your life. Just remember that when it is man against nature, the odds are in nature’s favor. I would suggest you wear your life vest at all times and stay inside until we are all clear.”
I nod my agreement to abide by his instructions. The idea of wearing a life vest does not appeal to me, but I will wear it even though I am convinced the Captain is exaggerating the situation. I have read of ships smaller than this weather such storms without difficulty. I guess I have more faith in the ship than the Captain.
After putting on a life vest I go to my cabin which is situated on the starboard side. The only view from the windows is out on the roiling sea. I stare at the scene for a while and soon become bored. I pick up the latest novel I am trying to read but am even less interested. The motion of the room is accelerating with each minute. I know I wanted to be in a place I could witness real action. Going back to the bridge would have been ideal but I might be in the way of the Captain and his comments. I will find a place astern first.
From the open deck at the stern I stand at the rail watching the wake disappear as fast as it is made. For a moment I almost think we might be dead in the water. This spot is where I have come countless times on our voyage. In the day, there are always birds looking for an easy handout. At night, I gaze into the clear skies above where all the constellations are easy to see.
The view from the stern is as monotonous as from my room. I am sure that would not be true if I were looking toward the bow. By this time the deck is heaving violently beneath my feet. I make my way through the galley to the windows facing forward. The bow rises on a huge wave then falls quickly as it slices through the water. The next wave catches the bow and its downward motion slamming it hard enough to send a shudder through the hull. Seawater washes over the bow as it struggles to rise on the next wave. On the upswing another wave pounds the bow sending a shower of spray into the air. This action intrigues me. I can watch this for hours. With each wave the ship fights back undaunted. The steel beneath my feet resists punishment with groans and creeks but nothing more. I am more than impressed. I am ecstatic. My trip is now worthwhile.
The longer I watch the waves crashing relentlessly onto the bow the more I lust to feel the fury of the wind and rain on my face. I have to find a place where I can experience the ocean in my own way. The bridge catwalk would have been ideal. I do not think, however, the Captain would have approved. The next best place is at deck level where the aft superstructure rises above everything else. I rush down steps as fast as I safely can.
At deck level I peer out a window misted over by salt spray. I put on protective rain gear hanging by the door. With heart racing, I unlatch the door expecting it to easily open. The door will not begin to budge with normal pressure. I find myself putting all my weight onto the resisting door, but still it d
oes not move. I stand back and hurl all my weight against it again and again. The outside wind momentarily abates because the door flies open with my push. I fall out on deck as the wind returns and slams the door closed behind me. I am momentarily trapped outside but I do not care. The rain, wind, and salt spray lift my spirits. I feel reborn and elevated to another level of existence. I hang onto the handrail. The panorama I watched above has become more violent in the time it has taken me to come below. I look around and see no other human soul anywhere on the ship. I feel it is the ship and I alone against the sea. Goose bumps come to my flesh.
A thirty foot wave appears in front of the bow during its excursion downward. Unable to instantly reverse direction the ship plows headlong into the wave forcing the bow under water. The ship slowly recovers with the bow rising triumphantly clear of the sea. I have seen such spectacles in movies and documentaries. To really appreciate the awesomeness of the phenomenon I know I am in the right place. I would not trade places with anyone at that moment.
It is easy to become mesmerized by the spectacle in front of me. I watch in awe as wave after wave crashes against the ship. There was no way to feel dry even though I wore protective gear. The wind whips the rain and spray into any available space. My sweat mingles with salt water and rain until I feel drenched from head to toe. The wetness is not uncomfortable, however cold it makes me. My mind and soul is soaking in the forces unleashed around me. The roar of the wind and surf is accompanied by mournful Aeolian tones. I imagine myself facing the Sirens Odysseus did while lashed to the mast of his own ship.
Over all the cacophony, I think I hear a voice. At first, I discount it. The voice is calling out my name. I happen to look up at the bridge. The Captain is holding a microphone in his hand waving at me. Apparently I have been spotted and the Captain is trying to get my attention with the PA system. Unfortunately, I am unable to understand more than a few words such as “damn fool” and “crazy.” I am sure he is trying to tell me to get inside. I wave that I see him which seems to make him wave back more insistently. In the best sign language I can manage I wave I am returning inside. The Captain throws up his hands in a gesture that implies either relief or disgust.
With a deep breath, I survey the panorama around me once more. I am reluctant to go back inside since I am enjoying myself. I stagger back to the door which allowed me outside. I am unable to budge it open. The wind keeps it sealed tight. I move back to where the Captain can see me. Using the best pantomime I can come up with, I try to explain I am trapped outside because of a stuck door. The Captain turns away for a moment. I am sure he is giving orders to assist me or at least I hope so. All I have to do is wait for help.
While I wait, I continue to watch the storm intensify. The wind grows stronger and the waves bigger. The ship continues its plodding through the turmoil without hesitation. Suddenly, I hear multiple blasts from the horn on the bridge. I glance up and see the Captain pointing toward the bow. I snap my head forward. What I see is nearly beyond belief. A wall of water over one hundred feet tall is directly ahead. I find myself in the most dangerous position of my life. I am out in the open with no possible protection. The ship has no choice but to plow through the gigantic wave. The sea will momentarily engulf the ship from stem to stern sweeping everything loose off the deck including me. I grab the rail with all my strength as the bow enters the wall of water. The ship shutters. I watch with horror as the water works its way back to me. I can feel the ship asserting its buoyancy pushing itself to the crest of the wave. It will be too late for me however. I am doomed to be swallowed by the sea. Just before the water reaches me I take a deep breath and close my eyes. What else can I do? I hold on for dear life. The sensation of the water engulfing me feels like a giant hand plucking me from the deck. There is no way I can hold on. One moment I am in contact with the ship, the next I am tumbling in roiling ocean water free.
One of my biggest fears has always been drowning. I was encouraged to learn how to swim when I was growing up but somehow I developed a phobia of water that effectively paralyzed me whenever I ventured into deep water over my head. Underwater somewhere in the open Atlantic in the middle of a hurricane I was now facing what I hoped would never happen. I am going to die by drowning.
Over and over I tumble in the aqueous void. I am fully aware of my situation yet my mind flashes back to the past. I am not sure I have my whole life replayed while I sink to my doom, but it seems that way. Aside from my inner voice, I am totally disoriented. Everything I knew in life is now gone. Before I need to take a breath, I feel myself propelled upward. The exact moment I have to inhale my head breaks the surface. Unfortunately, there is so much turbulence I cannot help but inhale water along with much needed oxygen.
I cough so much I vomit what little remains of breakfast. Finally, collecting myself, I manage to clear my airway enough to breathe normally. The overhead sky is dark, there are mountains of water on all sides and my feet are thousands of feet from the bottom. I thank my common sense I listened to the Captain in putting on a life vest. Although my clothes restrict my movement, I do not remove anything. I know by training I can die of exposure if my body temperature falls too low.
Funny how humor sometimes intervenes in the direst situations; I suddenly remember reading “The Rime of the Ancient Mariner”: Water, water everywhere. I was wet, I was cold and I was thirsty with nothing to drink.
There is a hope that I will be noticed missing and a rescue attempted. I know it will be a miracle but I do have hope. As I rise up on the crest of a wave I search in every direction for the ship. It is nowhere around me. I think I hear a horn once or twice. Even if I do, what can I possibly do to acknowledge I am still alive. My chances of survival diminish every second I remain in the water. In a fit of panic I begin screaming for help. I keep it up until I can hardly speak. There is nothing left but relax and wait for the end. I close my eyes and fall asleep.
I do not know how long I was unconscious. When I wake up it is pitch dark all around me. There is still wind and rain but not as I remembered it before I was swept overboard. At first, I am not sure I am really awake. My whole situation seems a part of a nightmare I once imagined only now the nightmare is real.
The waves remain huge rolling mountains. At the top of a crest I scan the scene around me and see nothing but water and darkness. In the depths of a trough I feel claustrophobic as if I am in a cavity in which the walls are about to move in and crush me. I never feel more helpless in my life.
For something to do I begin moving my arms and legs. If nothing else, it makes me feel better. The more I move, the warmer I become. At least for the moment, I am more comfortable. There is always the possibility there is an island nearby. I pick a direction and begin thrashing the water in earnest. I am determined to make land in spite of the fact I have no idea where I am or in which direction I should swim. My actions give me a small modicum of hope. It does not take long to exhaust my limited physical resources. When I stop, I collapse into another sleep or more properly unconsciousness.
Time without reference to anything is meaningless. When I recover my senses I ache all over with hollowness in my stomach. My physical exertions have depleted what little reserves I had. I will soon need food and drink. I have a bag of M&Ms in my jacket. I take the candy out of my pocket as if it is the most precious possession I have. At that moment, it is. I fumble with wet fingers tearing open the package. I open and put the pack to my mouth pouring half the contents in. I suck on the sweetness while my mouth fills with saliva. My M&Ms are a literal feast.
The rush of sugar not only improves my mood, it focuses my thinking. I have to consider what my real options are. There is no doubt in my mind I am as helpless as a woodchip floating on the ocean. That analogy leads me to visualize myself as a piece of bait waiting for a large fish to strike. The last creature I want to face is a shark. I take little solace from the fact overfishing has made them less numerous. All it would take is one bite and I will be finished.
The sea becomes calmer with each passing hour. Over my right shoulder the sky begins to lighten. Day is going to break. Since the sun gives me a first hint of direction, I turn my face west where the Bahamas or Antilles beckon me. In a fury of wild strokes, I push myself to swim west. In short order, I am exhausted again and have to stop. Breathless, I consider slipping out of my life vest to end it all.
Somehow the prospect of killing myself is less than appealing. I decide to hang onto life, precious as it is, and with all the strength I have remaining. It is true I took the cruise to get away from my personal problems, but I never considered suicide as an option. All situations have a negotiated resolution. I desperately need to find a way to negotiate out of my predicament.
If I was a deeply religious man I would have prayed for salvation. I certainly needed a miracle but why would I even be considered special enough to warrant one? What little faith I have I keep hidden to myself. It is no one’s business what I really believe. Even so, I wish I could pray to cover all bases. I promise myself I will go to church as soon as I reach land. I will admit it is a weak attempt at bribery. Regardless of what I think, there is no harm in trying to beg mercy.
By the time the sun is overhead clouds have started to break. The ocean begins to flatten as the wind subsides. I can pretty much see clearly in every direction for quite a distance. There is no sign of the ship or any other ship for that matter. I am very much alone.
Late in the afternoon with hunger and thirst growing less bearable, I see something move in the sky above me. I start yelling and waving my hands like a wild man. The object above me dips and weaves from side to side. It is only then I realize there is a bird flying above me. I start laughing hysterically. The bird is soon joined by two others. They fly in formation hovering above me. I wonder what they could possibly be thinking.
Against the Sea II: Tales On and Under the Sea Page 9
