Calm seas, bright moon high in the sky. Surface of South West Pacific is color of liquid silver. Tuna clipper effortlessly changing position, on the bridge man on the watch. Lights are off, except on radar and compass. In galley only two seat and watch old tape. In engine room, I assistant engineer on the watch made routine walk through the engine room and pipe ally. If I don’t pass through and reset dead man alarm within twenty five minutes alarm will first start to go off in Chief engineer cabin, and if it is not silenced main ship alarm will go off. Most of the crew already sleep, tired of six sets made today. First was on the drift wood and bell ring at three o’clock in the morning, they finished last one about midnight.
I just made last refrigeration adjustments and pick up the trash to throw overboard. When yesterday fish holds were drained, remains of fish were flushed in pipe alley and must be thrown away before reaching bilge pump suction strainer. It was not hard and I liked those moments of peace and moon shine on surface of the sea.
Smooth sailing was best thing sailor can want. Dead man alarm reset and I climb two flights of stairs to the stern deck. Bag in the hand I approach gunwale .Ocean was beautiful. In the darkness of the night surface of the sea merged with dark sky. Moon way was wide, and shimmering, seas calm. Monotonous rumor of water from the bow, Stars twinkled and appeared /disappeared. Satellite drifted over the heavens, falling star with the tail smoke out in silence.
I swing and throw the bag that disappeared at stern. And then it happens. Shipp suddenly roll, side to side. White water rush over the stern. Next I know I surfaced behind the stern. It was no sense to yell. No body will hear me. Ship stern light’s slowly getting dimmer, smaller and finally become just dot on horizon that was awfully close. Tennis shoes soaked water and become weight pulling my legs down. I have thought for a moment and decided to be no need for shoes while swimming.
“Ok, Ok, calm down. It is no end of the World! When alarm goes off they will start search.” I thought about. My crew will find out to I am missing and get in search pattern.
“Ok, how long was I on the deck, five, ten minutes? Two minutes from dead man alarm, that make twelve, they have thirteen more minutes till alarm goes off. Half hour until they search the vessel and count crew, this makes forty five minutes. Navigator must plot curse, calculate current, calculate winding, and develop search pattern. This will take another thirty minutes. Oh man this is awfully long time. They are sailing at ten knots an hour. It will take them almost twenty miles away!”
In my head someplace behind my thinking mind, surviving mode was taking over.
“I must not panic, swimming don’t make no sense. Best is to lie on the back float and breed normally. This will sustain me for a long time, tennis shoes, ok lets tight shoelaces together. They float, it will help however slightly. Shirt and shorts I must keep. In the morning will become hot, I don’t want sun directly on my skin. What else do I have with me? Something is heavy in back pocket. Flash light. Lets see … It don’t work any more. Right, Mr. Murphy you really work overtime tonight! But it might come handy if… Oh shut up, don’t think like that, lets see, do I bleed any place, no, ok that’s good. No blood, nothing to attract sharks. Now lets see what did I learn how to survive in situation like this.”
Slowly drifting on the surface in darkness of the Pacific, hoping they will find me my working brain was performing well. Sub consciousness was sending signals to something must be done now to survive. But I was thousands of miles from closest shore, up was high and down was deep. It was no place to be and I was there. Moments before I was in engine room, now swimming in the biggest bath tub on the World.
“No, don’t let the panic settle in. They will come and pick me up. They will come and pick me up.”
With this forced in mind, I have stretched my self as wide as I can, relax, and sea did a great job of keeping me afloat. My body was rolling with the waves. It was no crested waves, just dead roll of the sea, long smooth waves. I will feel when is approaching me. My feet will start to go higher, than my knees, my torso, and than will all start all over again. Waves were floating me as coconut branch on the surface.
“This is good. No crests, my mouth stay clean and nose and I can breathe easy. Problem is with the morning, temperature increases and wind sometime pick up. Let’s hope it won’t happen to me today, I don’t need that. What is the time; three in the morning o they must be going crazy now. Cussing me and searching for me. Most likely still didn’t get to them to I might be swimming someplace behind. Boy is Skipper going to be mad. I have ruin his day already, he must stop fishing, burn diesel to find me and if he don’t find me can you think about tons of paper work one day in port he will have to fill up. Oh boy is he is mad, royally. But newer mind that. This is the time they shall be already in search mode. Lets see, three o’clock, make turn, search pattern is three miles to port and than half mile in my direction, turn to starboard and run six miles turn in my direction half a mile and so forth. God help me it will take most of the day to come where I go for a swim. Ok what will I do if helicopter fly over? Bell 47 is slow but great for search, my hair is black, ocean is blue, and I don’t think he will see me. Ok, Ok what is the color of my shirt, dark blue, my favored color? If I knew, should wear white one. Oh shut up, you are stupid. If you knew? Who will knew something will happen in calm seas. Well one thing is good, I have lots of fat and fat is lighter than water; this will keep me a float. Can you imagine if I am skinny? I will probably be sinking right now!”
Time was passing by slowly. No changes on horizon, no lights, no sound, just me and nature. After a while I become part of it too. For a time being I must fall a sleep. It was like in best water bed. Sea was warm; air was cooling down and couple of times I wished for morning.
“Ihh, getting cold here, my head is getting cold. I wish to sun come up soon. What is the time? Four? I have slept full hour! That’s good! Preserving energy is good, but what is that? “
My stomach start protesting and bowel movement for a moment startled me. Most natural action of body is to relive it self. Now In the middle of no where I have to go.
“What I am to do? To pee is easy, did it before, but what now? How to do that? For Christ seek take shorts off and just do it! Yes and than this will float around me whole day, most likely will come to me as flotsam come to the ship. And what if odor attracts sharks? Oh well Skipper always say sharks don’t eat shit, but in Adriatic in blue sharks we found from soda cans to license plates, whom is to say to this one here have different appetite? Or might be he doesn’t but giant squid do? Yes, yes, and you are just lucky one to be found by giant squid! Oh shut up, rest is the best. What is the time? Almost time for wake up call. Stupid, if they are not awake now they will newer be. Ok, Ok, rest relaxes.”
My mind was racing from over drive in dead slow. At moment I was in strange mood. It was possible to they pass by me in search and not see me.
“What if they don’t see me? Nooo, they trained to see smallest things bobbing on the surface, four big ones and we have six small binoculars aboard. That make ten pairs of trained eyes searching surface, they will see me! What ewer will see when time comes? Look this way, oh boy that’s pretty; this star is pure blue color. And other one? Red, blue and white and blinking? Newer heard about the stars behaving like it, but what is it? Ha, ha ha ET come home, hey ET come here I want to go home. Ha ha ha, oh boy are you dummy. Aha, can see the light, oh over there is the East, Good morning world; I am still here and kicking. Skipper will tell me to I didn’t come here for rest and relax but to work. Boy he must be crazy mad right now! Well which direction we were sailing last night, so I can watch around and spot them before they spot me? Damn it, I should go to the bridge and check as I did before. I think were going North North East, that is in this direction, ok, ok, now in search pattern they will be coming from my left and my right, its impossible to see them with bow on me, first I will see is the smoke from my engines. Few hours after, hull will be visible. You must wait till you see people on the house and bridge, than start splashing, take shirt off and wave. That’s it until I don’t see them they cant see me. No, that is not right, they can spot me way before they on higher ground. My sight is limited by curvature of the earth and them looking from sixty feet above sea. “
Sun was climbing slowly but steady and soon was becoming hot. I knew to thirst will be my enemy. I forced my self to think about ways to prevent that at least for a while.
“You remember when you were the kid and read Karl May books about Winnetou and Old Shatterhand. In desert he suckled on round rocks and that made mouth produce saliva! That’s it! Oh, shut up dummy. Where will you find rock here? But what should I do? I need something! Wait wait, flash light has bulb in side and is round, just don bite and all will be ok. “
I took flash light apart and took light bulb in the mouth. Cold glass brought instant gratification, no ice cream taste so good. After a while my mouth, start to produce saliva just as in the book.
“Good old Karl May, died century ago and still do good did's on this earth. God almighty, it’s really hot today! What is the time? Seven o ‘clock, timed fly when you don’t needed, now it doesn’t move. What if I have fallen through dimensional door? It might be to me watching this from other dimension? Dummy, it is no such thing as parallel dimensions! Or is it?”
Noon already is gone and still is no sign of ship. Being wet is ok; being wet and cooked at same time by relentless start above my head is something completely different. This sun is bugging me.
“Remember when I was young and being fishing with family? That was good times! What happen to the grandma cow? She was giving plenty of milk! Milk? If I just can have one cold cup of it! You must be hungry, don’t think about food, it will drive you crazy. Cold, I want something cold to drink! Don’t think, no thinking is good thing. Think only about rescue. God is it hot, what if I put shirt on the head? That might help. No rest of the body will be exposed, you don’t want that. Just for few minutes! Ok , pull back on the head but leave front toward the sun. Oh my Gosh, this fills good. Should do that earlier! “
Sun was slowly sinking to the West when first time I sow the ship.
“Here, here, there they are what is this sound, look up, look up, its good old bell 47. Hey hey can’t you see me? Hey you son of a bitch I am here, no don’t go away, I am here, here!”
Helicopter flew over me and didn’t see me.
“Don’t let the hope disappear. They will find me! Oh no they going away. Get back you shit, get back, get me out of here, oh God please let them see me and come back. I will light candles in Hagatna cathedral if they find me!”
Ship was so close and yet so far. I knew they are in search pattern and will be back this way soon.
“Oh baby, come back to me, ill feed you best motor oil I can and purify diesel for you twice. I promise ill keep you clean, just- come back to me”
Sun was so low, if they don’t find me now sure is no chance to find me at night.
“There she goes again, closer, closer, I can see them on the crows nest , and I can see them on Pilot house. They get closer! Lets pull the shirt now and start making commotion and splash, this will attract eye attention, don’t lay motion less, did they see me? Every body running around, to the skiff, speed boat, aha they stop and now turning back, here here I am. I am tired now. They found me, I am tired.”
Speed boat and skiff were launched, speed boat racing toward me. Its here. Familiar face leans above me with gallon of drink in the jug.
“You want some?”
Chamorro punch newer tested better in my life. Cool liquid was running down my throat.
One of the guys in speed boat helps me in.
“You know you as hole, you keep us awake all night long, but you know its so good to see you. Old man will chew your as down to the size.”
From speed boat I walk on the pilot house deck.
“ You dirty son of a bitch, I didn’t give you permission to go swim, this is not a pleasure cruise, this is working boat, and oh boy it’s good to see you. We were about to give up for today, when deck boss saw you from crows nest, what happen to you last night?”
Since then every day is good day, gift, ultimate present, and yes it was just first time I have gone for drink.
Saturday, October 25, 2008
In memory of the Chief Fernando
This is written in memory of late Chief Engineer Mr. Fernando Quaresma, man who took me under his wings on my arrival, has given me hard time, succeeded to force me to learn English in less than three months, thought me about great American Democracy when tired, thought me professionally, and give me opportunity to work for him and with him in best years of American Tuna fishing. I hope he is happy on eternal fishing grounds. If he looks down from havens: all successes in my life are thanks to you Fernando and I can’t thank you enough. Till we met again: God bless you and rest in peace, you have departed too soon.
Chief Engineers Michael Datin and Andy White were young and full of energy, performing impossible tasks under stress, putting up often with difficult types. These great engineers didn’t know for word Cant do, impossible and such. They welded crack ships in middle of Ocean in hold them together till shipyard, overhauled CATs in rolling seas. I guess we were all on our own way crazy, difficult but always individualistic, human and fisherman...
Golden Years of American tuna fishing. Over one hundred fifty large tuna seiners plow Great Ocean in search of Big Eye, Skip Jack, Albacore or Yellow Fin. Portugese, Spaniards, Italians and Croatians tended to do what they were doing before arrival in States. Lack of English concentrate them in San Pedro, San Diego and community grows. At first fishing from small boats by the coast of California, as demand grows, larger and sophisticated vessels were build. Many innovations come from necessity of fishing as hard back breaking labor. Wages were earned on century old system: no fish no money. On beginning it was near coastal fishing. With years tuna seiners become Ocean going vessels in size from 1000 t to over two thousand tons of frozen fish. Nets grown from few yards in length and depth to mile long and 300 fathoms deep. From simple surface observations, come sophisticated electronics, weather faxes, satellites, sonar’s and sounders, fish finders. Heavy cotton nets become nylon, pulling net by hand and sling become impossible and Mr. Puretich single handedly build biggest fishing innovation of all time Power block .Instead of making one set a day and working hard, now was possible to make many sets in short period of time a lot more easy. With size of vessels and distance from shore style changed. Being home often was not an option no more, and development of ammonia refrigeration allowed them to stay out month at the time. Whole industry was build around, shipyards such as Tacoma or San Diego. Paint industry, net, power blocks and all other needed services in the glory days feed over two million people directly or indirectly involved in tuna fishing. Fishing Captains such as Sousas, Zuanich, Dundov, Blaslov and many others still make deals on worth of the face or their word. Papers weren’t necessary. Time lines were respected and no need for fancy lawyers, banks and such existed- yet. But time was changing. Corporate Industry has set sights on this individualist Industry. Small ship owners have not being strong enough for high seas fishing united and jointly build vessels and become first fishing corporations. Rest is history. This history comes to slow and painful death when Magnuson act was brought forward. To escape grips and troubles of porpoise fishing, new fishing grounds were needed and first exploratory ships were send in South West Pacific. No body knew then about El Nino and El Nina, jet streams, termoclines and temperature of the Ocean relationship with fish. All what was known, someplace West must be better, and they went for it. No chards of this areas existed. Even today we sail with chards last time corrected in 1886 or such. They found many reefs. Discovered to equipment and nets doesn’t work in this they call them Wild waters.
This is stories, in memory of Old timers forced on Great Ocean by need to survive, feed family or plainly it was no other way. Between them many died, many were lost at sea, others lost limbs or sanity as Skipper whom seen son eaten by sharks while saving dolphins from the net. Others succeeded and used bonanza for short time to better them selves.
Many great Navigators, Skippers, Chief Engineers rose through ranks. They were good at what they did, and they become THE BEST. Returning in ports of call they reported new reefs, under sea mounts where newer was one. They learn weather patterns and cycles, seen giant squids, Islands being born and Islands washed away, people of the Islands so innocent to for one ice cream given to the child will bring in return wheel barrels of fruits, fish, lobsters, piglets and anything else they have. That was the time when Fishermen was still word meaning collectively: strong, respectable, innovative, resourceful, knowledgeable, honorable, honest, word worth gold, in short THE FISHERMAN.
Others were telling the kids:”Go become fisherman, it’s a good job, hard but good money, you’ll make decent living”. These times are over now. Few graceful vessels remain at seas. Most fishermen were forced in other industries if lucky; to retire if old enough, but all miss adrenalin runs of great school fishing on foomer.
Now on instead of American flag on high seas one can se Korean, Japanese, Taiwanese and more and more , flag of People’s Redpublic of China, while we were picking just grown ups , canned tuna was what label said, and juveniles have time to grow and mature. Big Eye of 60 lbs plus, Yellow Fin same or bigger, Skip Jack’s at over twenty five pounds were considered baby. They today finish in the nets of low pay, profit run industry, that doesn’t care about size, just about tonnage.
Now instead of USA nautical chards being updated by fishermen, our submarines run underwater in the mountains, surface ships get grounded where reefs grow to close to surface, no body here monitor great expanses of Pacific.
Great community of American fishermen goes the way of extinction, and if one day US NAVY need intimate knowledge of this rarely sailed areas I am afraid no body will be left to tell about, knowledge gathered through thirty years will be lost due changes in climate, human population, washout of low Pacific Island such as FSM, Tuvalu and soon many others. This is world far away of MODERN civilization, far from every day life, but its real, oh I am so sorry WAS real.
May be is for good, to Old timers and Islands disappearing together, they grow up together, get to know each other, many story was told about Southern Seas in fishermen taverns and bars, and WHEN Islands disappear they will just follow Tuna , Skip Jack, FSM, Tuvalu, Tinian.
This is leading us to whole new situation in the world, ecological refugees from Pacific, they already coming; their numbers will only increase with time, what they will not have is home, land, culture, tradition, and great healthy way of life
Old timers dying out in all too increasing numbers, what’s really killing them is loss of freedom, loss of what you do and you are best in, loss of great way of life.
Oh how I wish to get on wide Tropical Pacific just one more time before I go! Just one more sunset with clear sky, stars so close to one can pluck them one by one, silver surface of Moon reflection, whale breeching, porpoises playing, oh how I wish to……
Chief Engineers Michael Datin and Andy White were young and full of energy, performing impossible tasks under stress, putting up often with difficult types. These great engineers didn’t know for word Cant do, impossible and such. They welded crack ships in middle of Ocean in hold them together till shipyard, overhauled CATs in rolling seas. I guess we were all on our own way crazy, difficult but always individualistic, human and fisherman...
Golden Years of American tuna fishing. Over one hundred fifty large tuna seiners plow Great Ocean in search of Big Eye, Skip Jack, Albacore or Yellow Fin. Portugese, Spaniards, Italians and Croatians tended to do what they were doing before arrival in States. Lack of English concentrate them in San Pedro, San Diego and community grows. At first fishing from small boats by the coast of California, as demand grows, larger and sophisticated vessels were build. Many innovations come from necessity of fishing as hard back breaking labor. Wages were earned on century old system: no fish no money. On beginning it was near coastal fishing. With years tuna seiners become Ocean going vessels in size from 1000 t to over two thousand tons of frozen fish. Nets grown from few yards in length and depth to mile long and 300 fathoms deep. From simple surface observations, come sophisticated electronics, weather faxes, satellites, sonar’s and sounders, fish finders. Heavy cotton nets become nylon, pulling net by hand and sling become impossible and Mr. Puretich single handedly build biggest fishing innovation of all time Power block .Instead of making one set a day and working hard, now was possible to make many sets in short period of time a lot more easy. With size of vessels and distance from shore style changed. Being home often was not an option no more, and development of ammonia refrigeration allowed them to stay out month at the time. Whole industry was build around, shipyards such as Tacoma or San Diego. Paint industry, net, power blocks and all other needed services in the glory days feed over two million people directly or indirectly involved in tuna fishing. Fishing Captains such as Sousas, Zuanich, Dundov, Blaslov and many others still make deals on worth of the face or their word. Papers weren’t necessary. Time lines were respected and no need for fancy lawyers, banks and such existed- yet. But time was changing. Corporate Industry has set sights on this individualist Industry. Small ship owners have not being strong enough for high seas fishing united and jointly build vessels and become first fishing corporations. Rest is history. This history comes to slow and painful death when Magnuson act was brought forward. To escape grips and troubles of porpoise fishing, new fishing grounds were needed and first exploratory ships were send in South West Pacific. No body knew then about El Nino and El Nina, jet streams, termoclines and temperature of the Ocean relationship with fish. All what was known, someplace West must be better, and they went for it. No chards of this areas existed. Even today we sail with chards last time corrected in 1886 or such. They found many reefs. Discovered to equipment and nets doesn’t work in this they call them Wild waters.
This is stories, in memory of Old timers forced on Great Ocean by need to survive, feed family or plainly it was no other way. Between them many died, many were lost at sea, others lost limbs or sanity as Skipper whom seen son eaten by sharks while saving dolphins from the net. Others succeeded and used bonanza for short time to better them selves.
Many great Navigators, Skippers, Chief Engineers rose through ranks. They were good at what they did, and they become THE BEST. Returning in ports of call they reported new reefs, under sea mounts where newer was one. They learn weather patterns and cycles, seen giant squids, Islands being born and Islands washed away, people of the Islands so innocent to for one ice cream given to the child will bring in return wheel barrels of fruits, fish, lobsters, piglets and anything else they have. That was the time when Fishermen was still word meaning collectively: strong, respectable, innovative, resourceful, knowledgeable, honorable, honest, word worth gold, in short THE FISHERMAN.
Others were telling the kids:”Go become fisherman, it’s a good job, hard but good money, you’ll make decent living”. These times are over now. Few graceful vessels remain at seas. Most fishermen were forced in other industries if lucky; to retire if old enough, but all miss adrenalin runs of great school fishing on foomer.
Now on instead of American flag on high seas one can se Korean, Japanese, Taiwanese and more and more , flag of People’s Redpublic of China, while we were picking just grown ups , canned tuna was what label said, and juveniles have time to grow and mature. Big Eye of 60 lbs plus, Yellow Fin same or bigger, Skip Jack’s at over twenty five pounds were considered baby. They today finish in the nets of low pay, profit run industry, that doesn’t care about size, just about tonnage.
Now instead of USA nautical chards being updated by fishermen, our submarines run underwater in the mountains, surface ships get grounded where reefs grow to close to surface, no body here monitor great expanses of Pacific.
Great community of American fishermen goes the way of extinction, and if one day US NAVY need intimate knowledge of this rarely sailed areas I am afraid no body will be left to tell about, knowledge gathered through thirty years will be lost due changes in climate, human population, washout of low Pacific Island such as FSM, Tuvalu and soon many others. This is world far away of MODERN civilization, far from every day life, but its real, oh I am so sorry WAS real.
May be is for good, to Old timers and Islands disappearing together, they grow up together, get to know each other, many story was told about Southern Seas in fishermen taverns and bars, and WHEN Islands disappear they will just follow Tuna , Skip Jack, FSM, Tuvalu, Tinian.
This is leading us to whole new situation in the world, ecological refugees from Pacific, they already coming; their numbers will only increase with time, what they will not have is home, land, culture, tradition, and great healthy way of life
Old timers dying out in all too increasing numbers, what’s really killing them is loss of freedom, loss of what you do and you are best in, loss of great way of life.
Oh how I wish to get on wide Tropical Pacific just one more time before I go! Just one more sunset with clear sky, stars so close to one can pluck them one by one, silver surface of Moon reflection, whale breeching, porpoises playing, oh how I wish to……
Storm
Late November. American Samoa, Pago Pago - tuna clipper Capital of the world, deep, safe port inside caldera of extinguished volcano. Numerous ships on the docks on commercial side and three on cannery’s docks. Relentless rattle of the unloading, fork lifts mix with sweet sounds of Samoan music. Odor of decaying fish blood, brown mud washed in the bay. After years of it, bay water become brown and stinky also, but that was life giving industry on the southernmost part of USA. It didn’t pay much but was a pay.
Cannery workers in white overcoats work on lines producing tuna cans in millions. Samoan unloaders hired by Agents of Blue Angel were on the ships unloading frozen fish. In lava-lavas native dress –skirt like, some wearing zories, others in busted up rubber boots and most of them barefoot. Most of new comers were awestruck seeing this people barefoot on the frozen fish that has temperature of minus thirteen degrees Celsius.
After becoming familiar with Samoa they understand to on Samoa things were different than in rest of World. Samoan People were huge race, most common sizes of T shits were in 4 to 6 XL, shorts , shoes were in sizes that in rest of the world will be for Reply’s “ Believed or not”, 14, 16 and in one store 24 EEEE (extra wide). Samoans were people of great strength, greater past and sweet music.
On the Commercial port side six clippers were on the dock three along side, as Port was small. First on the dock were loading supply, while others did last moment repairs or improvements. This was time before weather satellite communications, weather fax was luxury and Coast Guard radio was God given for short time and not that accurate. Most of sailors didn’t bother with predictions on Pacific. What’s to come will come and nothing one can do about.
On net yard, crew’s were mending the nets. Over Rainmaker peak , eternal clouds were hanging engulfing whole PagoPago in some kind of twilight, raining was common and if didn’t rain for hour or two , locals were already talking how weather is spoiled. Otherwise Pago was place where time seems to have stopped about sixty years ago in modern life. Underneath this westernized surface was still patriarchal society . Chiefs of villages were judges, and jury for Samoans. Only if conflicts were not solved by them culprits were sent to Police. If one was to conduct business in Samoa, his best bet was to visit chiefs, or Ultimate chief and ask for permission to do what ewer his business was. Once permission was given , word was spread and no difficulties were allowed. But if one didn’t do that, after a while he will found A. Samoa almost impossible to conduct business. Raising voice in conducting business was bad, threatening one Samoan was threatening all of them and some time strangers was beaten in the pulp. But if stranger follow the rules, visit the chief/s, respected local custom, treated people well, it was no limit and distance where Samoan will go to help you.
Our ship has just get paid, crew were in post office- last call home, Skippers were in Sadie Thompson restaurant and bar, some crew finished in Evalani’s bar, while singles and married hided in Rainmaker hotel rooms, making best of the time left before departure.
Departure was at five after noon, as after sunset was no way to pilot will take you out. Hatches secured, salt stocked and covered with plastic just in case. Deck hatches tightened down, so water from holds will not splash all over wet deck. Southern Pacific didn’t have mercy for people without respect. In heart beat Pacific will put arrogant soul on right place. Helicopter lashed down. Drums with oil discharged in holding tanks, last filters checks done, skiff lashed down, speed boat lashed down, radio buoys tested .
Million and one thing to do before lines were thrown of the dock. Deck boss hang bag with garlic on the bow- just in case to bad luck and sea witches attack. Cofiero brought two bags of salt to the stern deck. When she take of the dock tradition was to throw the salt on the dock, and people on the dock, for good luck, begging divine protection, for good weather, smooth sailing, and any other thousand and one reason one land critter, spending life on the rolling deck, being at sea months at the time, listening same story over and over again, from same faces. People knew better how their room mate sound when sleep than their spouses. This was close knitted society. Some landlubbers called us prisoners of our free will, others crazy, third did not understand how normal human being can spend days, weeks, months and years fishing. This was out of whack for majority. Ocean was newer place for majority. That was place for chosen few, few that chose to live, navigate and make living plowing blue endless surface.
Main engines were running, bow thruster idling, hydraulics whining, last strugglers were boarding. Navigator wife standing on the dock and listen for last words from husband that she will not see for weeks or months, Skipper on the winch controls with winch man, crew on the bow and stern stand by.
Five o clock.
“Let go the bow”
“Let go bow spring” Bow thruster shudder and start pushing ship away from dock.
”Let go stern spring” bow thruster increases power, and ships bow slowly turn to starboard.
“Let go stern line, rudder full to port” now bow and stern leaving dock. Salt was open and handful thrown on those remaining on the dock, on dock it self. Ships dog excited barking and running from bridge to hello deck, barking farewell to his Samoan cousins.
“Slow ahead”
“By, by”,” see you next time”, “be good and tell the kids to study”, ”will be back shortly”, “ see you in Guam” ,”By , by”
Last waves, bow was already turned toward mouth of Pago Pago harbor. Soon influence of the open ocean was felt. She start to pitch, roll, and bow under thrust of both engines plowing deeper in the open waters, while stern vibrated above variable stein less still propeller.
Skipper and navigator disappear in the bridge. Deck boss and crew stored lines in bow lazaret and on the starboard side of the house under the windows of the Skipper living quarters. Most of the jobs were done, small corrections here and there. Done. Crew gathered in the galley. Dinner was served and one by one people retired in cabins for some sleep before watch.
Morning comes all too early, but all knew to fishing grounds were still two days far away. Few shows up for breakfast, more for lunch, and all for dinner. Unloading was from seven in the morning, but crew prepped all since six o clock, and after unloading, it was happy time in Evalani’s or Sadi’s. Not much was left for sleep. Now, majority try to catch up between watch in engine room or on the bridge.
One more welcome night pass by. Sailing all time North, at economy speed, it will take at least three days to reach south Papua New Guinea, and fishing grounds. By direction of the ship old-timers were estimating position and future .
Day was hot, barometer was hectic. Navigator try to reach Australia on radio, but static was giving difficulties’ in communications.
“Newer before have seen barometer going crazy as today”
“Look on it and record changes, something is cooking around us”-Skipper says.
“Night watch, wake me up if the sea change’s I don’t liked” Navigator was spooked by something.
Chief engineer come to the bridge, he has same fillings, something in their watery world wasn’t right. Two of them has over eighty years on sea, and gut feeling was telling them to some danger was coming.
“Skipper, lets close water tight doors tonight, what do you say?”
“OK”, skipper knew better than argue.
He called deck boss to the bridge.
“Listen, will close all water tight doors, something is coming, barometer falling for hours now, wind changing directions, seas growing. Make sure to tell the cook and rest of the crew to tighten and secure all loose things. Remove bottles from tables. I think we are in for a devil’s dance.”
Chief engineer, assistant and watch men did same thing in engine. Bow hutch was battened down, bow storage space watertight door, dogged, deck hutch for bow thruster tightened.
On the deck, skiff man and rest of the crew tightened cable over the skiff. It was their substitute for life boat, It was unthinkable to waves wash it away. Some crew members pulled life jackets and inspected them. Others making fun of them followed suit. After years at Pacific most of them developed kind of
Sixth sense to trust gut feeling. Gut feeling is something eternal; always kick in when danger comes around. Cook pulled one life jacket made specially for the ship’s dog and have it handy. All went to sleep.
Tomorrow morning wasn’t better than night. Seas were white crested and confused. Barometer was still falling. To walk one must outreach by hands, and synchronize steps with motion of the ship. Cook didn’t cook anything. He prepared lots of sandwiches and crackers. Coffee maker was secured and empty. Bow was some time climbing up and up, and than falling down with big splash.
Crew was tending to regular duties; it was not much joking or messing around as when is situation normal, some heavy burden, invisible but there, hanging above them as Damocles sword. House was designed without windows, and was not much information’s from outside about conditions of sea. Now and then howling of the wind in riggings will come down through still structure. Hull was strong and they have engine room amid ship. This was best in this situation as point of gravity was deep down. All fish holds were full to the hutches to prevent liquid roll. Stabilizer or Flume tank in stern was filled to the optimum for best performance. Main boom was lowered down yesterday and lashed over the net and with double, single and rigging lay securely. Both cargo booms were down, also lashed and rigging tightened. Jocker’s were used to additionally reinforce booms.
Day was slow, but sea wasn’t to give up. More and more height of the seas was increasing. Sometime ship will sail up the wave for a long time. On the top of the crest will shudder for a moment, and than slide down in the through with increased speed. Once in the through she will slow down and try to fight her way up the next wave. All engineers and watch were dogged in engine room and stand by for any eventuality. Nights come, bilges were filling up through openings around the stacks, and water was slowly increasing level. To prevent sloshing, pumps were running as needed. In pipe alley bilges were dry, and bottom tanks were measured. Fuel purifier in service sucked fuel from bottom tanks and deposited in wing tanks, they started second purifier and set it up so it can suck fuel from wing tanks and re-purified.
Both twelve cylinder EMD’s were running smoothly. Hour after hour, ship was cutting seas, speed slowed down considerably, it was hard, hard but not alarming. They have been through similar before. Some went in the bed and try to rest; others were on the bridge listening to the radio Australia.
“Attention all mariners, attention all mariners, large tropical depression formed in position North of American Samoa has developed in fully blown typhoon. It is estimated to wind speeds were between seventy and ninety miles, with gusts of over one hundred miles. Special announcement for vessels at sea, watch out for rough seas. It is inspected to wave height will increase to forty feet; watch out for pattern in waves as rough waves might be inspected. Tomorrow is inspected further wind strength increase and accordingly wave action and height.”
Navigator switch station and found Papua New Guinea New Ireland missionary station. Missionary’s transmitted prayer for all sailors and people on the islands on the path of nature wrath. Skipper and Navigator look at each other.
“Don’t look good”
“Nope, it does not”
“We are in and just have to sail through. That’s all we can do. We don’t know how far and wide this is, and now is no way of returning”
Day was getting old, wind and waves growing, fears of unknown – unspoken. Skipper get on the PA and
Announced:
“Attention, we are in to get it, she is strong and build to last, we are in typhoon and Australians called it biggest in last few years. Make sure you got your money and documents in water tight bags and with you at all times. I don’t say will needed but better be ready than sorry”
Night was worst than day. Strong halogen lights on the bow were shining at hungry attacking seas. Navigator after a while decided to its better to run without them. She will sail smooth for a while and then start to climb. Five, ten degrees, fifteen degrees bow will go up and up, weight now on at the stern put big burden on propeller and navigator increases throttle and se us over. Once on the top of the crest, propeller will find it self in the air, engines will speed up and navigator then reduced speed to dead slows. Precariously hanging in balance for a moment, bow tilted downwards, prop hit the water and engines speed up by shear speed of surfing down in to the through. People in galley were trying to estimate height of the wave by time of climb and surf down, but it was just impossible. Some start to pray:
“Our father …………………………….
Dog that was never allowed access in the galley has his life jacket, curled on the floor and was squeaking, and from time to time he will get somebody legs and leak it. We newer knew to dogs can make tears, but terrified ship dog was crying and finally pee under himself.
All that was bad omen for people in galley, but there they are and have no place to go. Howling of the wind further increased, height of the seas become monstrous.
In one moment she run down the through, wave was so enormous to when she reached lowest in the through, didn’t have space and time to start to climb. Wave collapsed over her.
In the engine room men were with lanyards and belts, at all four crawling around equipment do what needed to do. Having engines running was life or death situation.
Submerged vessel start eating air from its own innards, hard working engines were rapidly sucking life giving oxygen from all parts of the vessel. Ears start to pop and hurt, engines suffocating for lack of air.
Green water running in the engine room through openings us newer knew we have.
Hull under enormous weight of water start to groan and moan, for a moment she stopped as in midair, it was as if she wants to decide if she wants to continue or to give up. And than with high speed she shoots to the surface, and start to fight her way up the next wave. Engineer’s ears popped up again, fresh air was streaming in the engine room. Chief and his crew all at once start to change one of fuel filters on duplex Racors we have installed recently. They were designed just for situations like this when one is forced to change filters and can’t shoot engine down. Same thing was with oil filters. One of the guys was in the stern rudder compartment making sure it’s enough oil in bearing system and hydraulics runs properly.
“Chief, I must tighten stern shaft packing it start to leak”
“Ok, make sure to you tighten across and evenly, don’t over-tight, as it can burn, Make sure you don’t get wrapped around the shaft”
“Chief bilge pump loosing suction, suction strainer is clogged up”
Assistant crawled to port side and with help of other engine man open deck plate under which were suction strainer. Black bilge water was sloshing around following motion of the vessel. Only way to clean large strainer was to get down under deck and shut valves close, clean strainer basket , and than re start the pump. Bilges were increasing with water from bow thruster and stern tubes.
“Pass me 15/16”
“Hold the deck plate, lashed with some rope”
“Pull basket up, pull, it’s heavy and full of garbage”
Chief come around and lend the hand, helping drag the strainer basket to the waste drum. After cleaning they restored order and bilge pump was happily dumping bilges over the side.
“I swear to God almighty, it is last time I have to deal with bilges in the storm. You bastards will clean this bilges until I can eat my dinner from. From tools, rags, sockets we found everything down there. Oh God please spare me and this collection of types, and I promise you I will have cleanest bilges in the world.” Chief engineer was pissed off.
Fighting seas she submerged numerous times through the night. Now was two days in this maelstrom. It was as somebody has thrown them in wash machine and tumble dryer.
Morning come. Wave hit the bow. From the bridge comes call to crew in the galley;
“Get me the plywood on the bridge and 2x4’s I need plywood and 2x4”
Crew scrambled, and from wet deck pulls pieces of ply wood to the bridge. Green water was running down the stairs from the bridge. Navigator bloodied face was white in fear; Skipper standing besides him didn’t pass any better. Crew batten improvised covers over busted windows. Sperry sonar was dead, washed with salt water, radios on the main console that has been inlaid were dead also, only two radios above windows were still running.
Great rumbling was heard from outside and 90 miles bird radar went black.
“We must lost transmitter on top of Crows nest” Says navigator.
Another wave hit and improvised windows survived. On hello pad above- screeching, and some struggle, all went quiet. Ship was continuing up and down the merciless seas.
“Skipper, I must to turn her about, one more like that and we might loose controls, or capsize. This is getting too much even for this old lady of the seas. I just don’t see how to, troughs were to stiff.”
“Check the compass, we has made turn already, and all this time we fight seas in the bow. If we succeed to turn her about , will surf down with following seas, but she might poke bow in through and decide not to come up no more.”
“That’s the chance we has to take, other vise, I am afraid for her.”
“Lets watch the pattern of the waves, all night were five in succession and then three big ones. If this is right, when we get down from last big one will try! Chief, Chief, will try to turn her about and sail with following seas, please be ready. Crew, be ready for sudden turn, I wont have time to tell you again”
Crew knew how hazardous was to turn ship about in storm. She can get caught by side sweep of the late wave and slide under surface forever. Crew braced for worst. In engine room Chief come around to his guys.
“That is guys, I am old son of a bitch, grumpy and grouchy but I am proud to have work with you. Just want to tell you that now while still have time. You are the best crew I have for long time.”
Longest speech and kindest words from old Primota (US Portuguese) one ewer heard. White faces of engine crew faced each other. Knuckles on hands gripping rails get white. Skipper was on the PA.
“Not yet, not yet, not yet, brace your self, NOW, NOW, turn baby turn”
Two EMD’s were giving their all; stern was shaking under stream of water from propeller. Ship for a moment stopped. It was as she think- this humans are crazy, I am not made for this. And than she slowly start to turn, than faster and better, wave was coming now from the side.
Navigator face was white, wide spread legs were shaking, steering wheel full to port.
“ Turn baby , please turn, good girl, turn , now, now, you bitch, turn now, big ones is coming, dammit, turn you old bitch, oh God let her turn, ill light candles’ for thy if you let me live through this, turn baby turn , yes, yes, at’ a girl, you are my best baby, YEEEEHAAAA,”
PA was bursting of yells from the bridge. Skipper have forgotten to he still has PA mike in hands and whole crew heard what’s going on, on the bridge. Crew scrambled on the bridge in ruins. Navigator and Skipper look at each other in disbelief.
“She turned about , did you see this big one just when our stern was in right position?”
“Navigator, you, you, you did it, I cant believed, you pulled this off”
Crew was chirring and slapping each other shoulders.
“Guys, we are not through yet, we might have smoother sailing now, but don’t let the guard off. Get the saws and cut this windows properly will dog them in from inside and cross from outside, this is not over yet”
She was limping down and up the waves. Windows were blanked. Navigator steered on instructions from Skipper . Two days after seas become friendlier, waves subsided, Navigator succeeded for a first time in days to take sky down and plot position.
“Skipper we are three hundred miles behind the point we get in this mess and one hundred fifty miles to the East”
They calculated position twice and results were the same storm did it right. When crew finally wandered on the deck, it was picture to be seen. Crows nest almost eighty feet above sea line – gone, half mast broken in pieces, and mid mast radar tangled base with just enough clearance for antenna to turn. Speed boat was gone with cradle. Starboard passage cleared of all clutter and radio buys. On hello pad old Bell 47 was sitting on the skids almost to the edge of the roof, rotors washed away, bubble busted in shreds. One of bow cranes gone ripped from foundation. On the stern skiff was out of the skids and laying almost side way on the stern, half of the net hanging over the cork. Chain and rings moved almost three feet to starboard, meaning whole net was floating. Shut for fish gone, both cargo booms and main boom were crooked as English long bow. Radios lost, she was limping in the Guam her home port. It was no way of telling anyone about condition.
Week’s pas by and odor in the air signaled land, sweet smell of jungle , floating coconuts and soda cans .
Finally in the range of channel 16 Navigator called :
“This is tuna vessel, asking permission to enter Apra harbor, we has suffered damage in storm and need repairs, out”
“Tuna vessel, tuna vessel, this is US coast Guard, what’s your status, do you need any assistance?”
“US CG, US CG this is tuna vessel, no we don’t need assistance, thank you”
“Harbor master, harbor master this is tuna vessel, need priority in docking in front of Casamar.”
“Tuna vessel, tuna vessel, I see you, you have permission to get on Casamar dock.
Cannery workers in white overcoats work on lines producing tuna cans in millions. Samoan unloaders hired by Agents of Blue Angel were on the ships unloading frozen fish. In lava-lavas native dress –skirt like, some wearing zories, others in busted up rubber boots and most of them barefoot. Most of new comers were awestruck seeing this people barefoot on the frozen fish that has temperature of minus thirteen degrees Celsius.
After becoming familiar with Samoa they understand to on Samoa things were different than in rest of World. Samoan People were huge race, most common sizes of T shits were in 4 to 6 XL, shorts , shoes were in sizes that in rest of the world will be for Reply’s “ Believed or not”, 14, 16 and in one store 24 EEEE (extra wide). Samoans were people of great strength, greater past and sweet music.
On the Commercial port side six clippers were on the dock three along side, as Port was small. First on the dock were loading supply, while others did last moment repairs or improvements. This was time before weather satellite communications, weather fax was luxury and Coast Guard radio was God given for short time and not that accurate. Most of sailors didn’t bother with predictions on Pacific. What’s to come will come and nothing one can do about.
On net yard, crew’s were mending the nets. Over Rainmaker peak , eternal clouds were hanging engulfing whole PagoPago in some kind of twilight, raining was common and if didn’t rain for hour or two , locals were already talking how weather is spoiled. Otherwise Pago was place where time seems to have stopped about sixty years ago in modern life. Underneath this westernized surface was still patriarchal society . Chiefs of villages were judges, and jury for Samoans. Only if conflicts were not solved by them culprits were sent to Police. If one was to conduct business in Samoa, his best bet was to visit chiefs, or Ultimate chief and ask for permission to do what ewer his business was. Once permission was given , word was spread and no difficulties were allowed. But if one didn’t do that, after a while he will found A. Samoa almost impossible to conduct business. Raising voice in conducting business was bad, threatening one Samoan was threatening all of them and some time strangers was beaten in the pulp. But if stranger follow the rules, visit the chief/s, respected local custom, treated people well, it was no limit and distance where Samoan will go to help you.
Our ship has just get paid, crew were in post office- last call home, Skippers were in Sadie Thompson restaurant and bar, some crew finished in Evalani’s bar, while singles and married hided in Rainmaker hotel rooms, making best of the time left before departure.
Departure was at five after noon, as after sunset was no way to pilot will take you out. Hatches secured, salt stocked and covered with plastic just in case. Deck hatches tightened down, so water from holds will not splash all over wet deck. Southern Pacific didn’t have mercy for people without respect. In heart beat Pacific will put arrogant soul on right place. Helicopter lashed down. Drums with oil discharged in holding tanks, last filters checks done, skiff lashed down, speed boat lashed down, radio buoys tested .
Million and one thing to do before lines were thrown of the dock. Deck boss hang bag with garlic on the bow- just in case to bad luck and sea witches attack. Cofiero brought two bags of salt to the stern deck. When she take of the dock tradition was to throw the salt on the dock, and people on the dock, for good luck, begging divine protection, for good weather, smooth sailing, and any other thousand and one reason one land critter, spending life on the rolling deck, being at sea months at the time, listening same story over and over again, from same faces. People knew better how their room mate sound when sleep than their spouses. This was close knitted society. Some landlubbers called us prisoners of our free will, others crazy, third did not understand how normal human being can spend days, weeks, months and years fishing. This was out of whack for majority. Ocean was newer place for majority. That was place for chosen few, few that chose to live, navigate and make living plowing blue endless surface.
Main engines were running, bow thruster idling, hydraulics whining, last strugglers were boarding. Navigator wife standing on the dock and listen for last words from husband that she will not see for weeks or months, Skipper on the winch controls with winch man, crew on the bow and stern stand by.
Five o clock.
“Let go the bow”
“Let go bow spring” Bow thruster shudder and start pushing ship away from dock.
”Let go stern spring” bow thruster increases power, and ships bow slowly turn to starboard.
“Let go stern line, rudder full to port” now bow and stern leaving dock. Salt was open and handful thrown on those remaining on the dock, on dock it self. Ships dog excited barking and running from bridge to hello deck, barking farewell to his Samoan cousins.
“Slow ahead”
“By, by”,” see you next time”, “be good and tell the kids to study”, ”will be back shortly”, “ see you in Guam” ,”By , by”
Last waves, bow was already turned toward mouth of Pago Pago harbor. Soon influence of the open ocean was felt. She start to pitch, roll, and bow under thrust of both engines plowing deeper in the open waters, while stern vibrated above variable stein less still propeller.
Skipper and navigator disappear in the bridge. Deck boss and crew stored lines in bow lazaret and on the starboard side of the house under the windows of the Skipper living quarters. Most of the jobs were done, small corrections here and there. Done. Crew gathered in the galley. Dinner was served and one by one people retired in cabins for some sleep before watch.
Morning comes all too early, but all knew to fishing grounds were still two days far away. Few shows up for breakfast, more for lunch, and all for dinner. Unloading was from seven in the morning, but crew prepped all since six o clock, and after unloading, it was happy time in Evalani’s or Sadi’s. Not much was left for sleep. Now, majority try to catch up between watch in engine room or on the bridge.
One more welcome night pass by. Sailing all time North, at economy speed, it will take at least three days to reach south Papua New Guinea, and fishing grounds. By direction of the ship old-timers were estimating position and future .
Day was hot, barometer was hectic. Navigator try to reach Australia on radio, but static was giving difficulties’ in communications.
“Newer before have seen barometer going crazy as today”
“Look on it and record changes, something is cooking around us”-Skipper says.
“Night watch, wake me up if the sea change’s I don’t liked” Navigator was spooked by something.
Chief engineer come to the bridge, he has same fillings, something in their watery world wasn’t right. Two of them has over eighty years on sea, and gut feeling was telling them to some danger was coming.
“Skipper, lets close water tight doors tonight, what do you say?”
“OK”, skipper knew better than argue.
He called deck boss to the bridge.
“Listen, will close all water tight doors, something is coming, barometer falling for hours now, wind changing directions, seas growing. Make sure to tell the cook and rest of the crew to tighten and secure all loose things. Remove bottles from tables. I think we are in for a devil’s dance.”
Chief engineer, assistant and watch men did same thing in engine. Bow hutch was battened down, bow storage space watertight door, dogged, deck hutch for bow thruster tightened.
On the deck, skiff man and rest of the crew tightened cable over the skiff. It was their substitute for life boat, It was unthinkable to waves wash it away. Some crew members pulled life jackets and inspected them. Others making fun of them followed suit. After years at Pacific most of them developed kind of
Sixth sense to trust gut feeling. Gut feeling is something eternal; always kick in when danger comes around. Cook pulled one life jacket made specially for the ship’s dog and have it handy. All went to sleep.
Tomorrow morning wasn’t better than night. Seas were white crested and confused. Barometer was still falling. To walk one must outreach by hands, and synchronize steps with motion of the ship. Cook didn’t cook anything. He prepared lots of sandwiches and crackers. Coffee maker was secured and empty. Bow was some time climbing up and up, and than falling down with big splash.
Crew was tending to regular duties; it was not much joking or messing around as when is situation normal, some heavy burden, invisible but there, hanging above them as Damocles sword. House was designed without windows, and was not much information’s from outside about conditions of sea. Now and then howling of the wind in riggings will come down through still structure. Hull was strong and they have engine room amid ship. This was best in this situation as point of gravity was deep down. All fish holds were full to the hutches to prevent liquid roll. Stabilizer or Flume tank in stern was filled to the optimum for best performance. Main boom was lowered down yesterday and lashed over the net and with double, single and rigging lay securely. Both cargo booms were down, also lashed and rigging tightened. Jocker’s were used to additionally reinforce booms.
Day was slow, but sea wasn’t to give up. More and more height of the seas was increasing. Sometime ship will sail up the wave for a long time. On the top of the crest will shudder for a moment, and than slide down in the through with increased speed. Once in the through she will slow down and try to fight her way up the next wave. All engineers and watch were dogged in engine room and stand by for any eventuality. Nights come, bilges were filling up through openings around the stacks, and water was slowly increasing level. To prevent sloshing, pumps were running as needed. In pipe alley bilges were dry, and bottom tanks were measured. Fuel purifier in service sucked fuel from bottom tanks and deposited in wing tanks, they started second purifier and set it up so it can suck fuel from wing tanks and re-purified.
Both twelve cylinder EMD’s were running smoothly. Hour after hour, ship was cutting seas, speed slowed down considerably, it was hard, hard but not alarming. They have been through similar before. Some went in the bed and try to rest; others were on the bridge listening to the radio Australia.
“Attention all mariners, attention all mariners, large tropical depression formed in position North of American Samoa has developed in fully blown typhoon. It is estimated to wind speeds were between seventy and ninety miles, with gusts of over one hundred miles. Special announcement for vessels at sea, watch out for rough seas. It is inspected to wave height will increase to forty feet; watch out for pattern in waves as rough waves might be inspected. Tomorrow is inspected further wind strength increase and accordingly wave action and height.”
Navigator switch station and found Papua New Guinea New Ireland missionary station. Missionary’s transmitted prayer for all sailors and people on the islands on the path of nature wrath. Skipper and Navigator look at each other.
“Don’t look good”
“Nope, it does not”
“We are in and just have to sail through. That’s all we can do. We don’t know how far and wide this is, and now is no way of returning”
Day was getting old, wind and waves growing, fears of unknown – unspoken. Skipper get on the PA and
Announced:
“Attention, we are in to get it, she is strong and build to last, we are in typhoon and Australians called it biggest in last few years. Make sure you got your money and documents in water tight bags and with you at all times. I don’t say will needed but better be ready than sorry”
Night was worst than day. Strong halogen lights on the bow were shining at hungry attacking seas. Navigator after a while decided to its better to run without them. She will sail smooth for a while and then start to climb. Five, ten degrees, fifteen degrees bow will go up and up, weight now on at the stern put big burden on propeller and navigator increases throttle and se us over. Once on the top of the crest, propeller will find it self in the air, engines will speed up and navigator then reduced speed to dead slows. Precariously hanging in balance for a moment, bow tilted downwards, prop hit the water and engines speed up by shear speed of surfing down in to the through. People in galley were trying to estimate height of the wave by time of climb and surf down, but it was just impossible. Some start to pray:
“Our father …………………………….
Dog that was never allowed access in the galley has his life jacket, curled on the floor and was squeaking, and from time to time he will get somebody legs and leak it. We newer knew to dogs can make tears, but terrified ship dog was crying and finally pee under himself.
All that was bad omen for people in galley, but there they are and have no place to go. Howling of the wind further increased, height of the seas become monstrous.
In one moment she run down the through, wave was so enormous to when she reached lowest in the through, didn’t have space and time to start to climb. Wave collapsed over her.
In the engine room men were with lanyards and belts, at all four crawling around equipment do what needed to do. Having engines running was life or death situation.
Submerged vessel start eating air from its own innards, hard working engines were rapidly sucking life giving oxygen from all parts of the vessel. Ears start to pop and hurt, engines suffocating for lack of air.
Green water running in the engine room through openings us newer knew we have.
Hull under enormous weight of water start to groan and moan, for a moment she stopped as in midair, it was as if she wants to decide if she wants to continue or to give up. And than with high speed she shoots to the surface, and start to fight her way up the next wave. Engineer’s ears popped up again, fresh air was streaming in the engine room. Chief and his crew all at once start to change one of fuel filters on duplex Racors we have installed recently. They were designed just for situations like this when one is forced to change filters and can’t shoot engine down. Same thing was with oil filters. One of the guys was in the stern rudder compartment making sure it’s enough oil in bearing system and hydraulics runs properly.
“Chief, I must tighten stern shaft packing it start to leak”
“Ok, make sure to you tighten across and evenly, don’t over-tight, as it can burn, Make sure you don’t get wrapped around the shaft”
“Chief bilge pump loosing suction, suction strainer is clogged up”
Assistant crawled to port side and with help of other engine man open deck plate under which were suction strainer. Black bilge water was sloshing around following motion of the vessel. Only way to clean large strainer was to get down under deck and shut valves close, clean strainer basket , and than re start the pump. Bilges were increasing with water from bow thruster and stern tubes.
“Pass me 15/16”
“Hold the deck plate, lashed with some rope”
“Pull basket up, pull, it’s heavy and full of garbage”
Chief come around and lend the hand, helping drag the strainer basket to the waste drum. After cleaning they restored order and bilge pump was happily dumping bilges over the side.
“I swear to God almighty, it is last time I have to deal with bilges in the storm. You bastards will clean this bilges until I can eat my dinner from. From tools, rags, sockets we found everything down there. Oh God please spare me and this collection of types, and I promise you I will have cleanest bilges in the world.” Chief engineer was pissed off.
Fighting seas she submerged numerous times through the night. Now was two days in this maelstrom. It was as somebody has thrown them in wash machine and tumble dryer.
Morning come. Wave hit the bow. From the bridge comes call to crew in the galley;
“Get me the plywood on the bridge and 2x4’s I need plywood and 2x4”
Crew scrambled, and from wet deck pulls pieces of ply wood to the bridge. Green water was running down the stairs from the bridge. Navigator bloodied face was white in fear; Skipper standing besides him didn’t pass any better. Crew batten improvised covers over busted windows. Sperry sonar was dead, washed with salt water, radios on the main console that has been inlaid were dead also, only two radios above windows were still running.
Great rumbling was heard from outside and 90 miles bird radar went black.
“We must lost transmitter on top of Crows nest” Says navigator.
Another wave hit and improvised windows survived. On hello pad above- screeching, and some struggle, all went quiet. Ship was continuing up and down the merciless seas.
“Skipper, I must to turn her about, one more like that and we might loose controls, or capsize. This is getting too much even for this old lady of the seas. I just don’t see how to, troughs were to stiff.”
“Check the compass, we has made turn already, and all this time we fight seas in the bow. If we succeed to turn her about , will surf down with following seas, but she might poke bow in through and decide not to come up no more.”
“That’s the chance we has to take, other vise, I am afraid for her.”
“Lets watch the pattern of the waves, all night were five in succession and then three big ones. If this is right, when we get down from last big one will try! Chief, Chief, will try to turn her about and sail with following seas, please be ready. Crew, be ready for sudden turn, I wont have time to tell you again”
Crew knew how hazardous was to turn ship about in storm. She can get caught by side sweep of the late wave and slide under surface forever. Crew braced for worst. In engine room Chief come around to his guys.
“That is guys, I am old son of a bitch, grumpy and grouchy but I am proud to have work with you. Just want to tell you that now while still have time. You are the best crew I have for long time.”
Longest speech and kindest words from old Primota (US Portuguese) one ewer heard. White faces of engine crew faced each other. Knuckles on hands gripping rails get white. Skipper was on the PA.
“Not yet, not yet, not yet, brace your self, NOW, NOW, turn baby turn”
Two EMD’s were giving their all; stern was shaking under stream of water from propeller. Ship for a moment stopped. It was as she think- this humans are crazy, I am not made for this. And than she slowly start to turn, than faster and better, wave was coming now from the side.
Navigator face was white, wide spread legs were shaking, steering wheel full to port.
“ Turn baby , please turn, good girl, turn , now, now, you bitch, turn now, big ones is coming, dammit, turn you old bitch, oh God let her turn, ill light candles’ for thy if you let me live through this, turn baby turn , yes, yes, at’ a girl, you are my best baby, YEEEEHAAAA,”
PA was bursting of yells from the bridge. Skipper have forgotten to he still has PA mike in hands and whole crew heard what’s going on, on the bridge. Crew scrambled on the bridge in ruins. Navigator and Skipper look at each other in disbelief.
“She turned about , did you see this big one just when our stern was in right position?”
“Navigator, you, you, you did it, I cant believed, you pulled this off”
Crew was chirring and slapping each other shoulders.
“Guys, we are not through yet, we might have smoother sailing now, but don’t let the guard off. Get the saws and cut this windows properly will dog them in from inside and cross from outside, this is not over yet”
She was limping down and up the waves. Windows were blanked. Navigator steered on instructions from Skipper . Two days after seas become friendlier, waves subsided, Navigator succeeded for a first time in days to take sky down and plot position.
“Skipper we are three hundred miles behind the point we get in this mess and one hundred fifty miles to the East”
They calculated position twice and results were the same storm did it right. When crew finally wandered on the deck, it was picture to be seen. Crows nest almost eighty feet above sea line – gone, half mast broken in pieces, and mid mast radar tangled base with just enough clearance for antenna to turn. Speed boat was gone with cradle. Starboard passage cleared of all clutter and radio buys. On hello pad old Bell 47 was sitting on the skids almost to the edge of the roof, rotors washed away, bubble busted in shreds. One of bow cranes gone ripped from foundation. On the stern skiff was out of the skids and laying almost side way on the stern, half of the net hanging over the cork. Chain and rings moved almost three feet to starboard, meaning whole net was floating. Shut for fish gone, both cargo booms and main boom were crooked as English long bow. Radios lost, she was limping in the Guam her home port. It was no way of telling anyone about condition.
Week’s pas by and odor in the air signaled land, sweet smell of jungle , floating coconuts and soda cans .
Finally in the range of channel 16 Navigator called :
“This is tuna vessel, asking permission to enter Apra harbor, we has suffered damage in storm and need repairs, out”
“Tuna vessel, tuna vessel, this is US coast Guard, what’s your status, do you need any assistance?”
“US CG, US CG this is tuna vessel, no we don’t need assistance, thank you”
“Harbor master, harbor master this is tuna vessel, need priority in docking in front of Casamar.”
“Tuna vessel, tuna vessel, I see you, you have permission to get on Casamar dock.
Storm
Late November. American Samoa, Pago Pago - tuna clipper Capital of the world, deep, safe port inside caldera of extinguished volcano. Numerous ships on the docks on commercial side and three on cannery’s docks. Relentless rattle of the unloading, fork lifts mix with sweet sounds of Samoan music. Odor of decaying fish blood, brown mud washed in the bay. After years of it, bay water become brown and stinky also, but that was life giving industry on the southernmost part of USA. It didn’t pay much but was a pay.
Cannery workers in white overcoats work on lines producing tuna cans in millions. Samoan unloaders hired by Agents of Blue Angel were on the ships unloading frozen fish. In lava-lavas native dress –skirt like, some wearing zories, others in busted up rubber boots and most of them barefoot. Most of new comers were awestruck seeing this people barefoot on the frozen fish that has temperature of minus thirteen degrees Celsius.
After becoming familiar with Samoa they understand to on Samoa things were different than in rest of World. Samoan People were huge race, most common sizes of T shits were in 4 to 6 XL, shorts , shoes were in sizes that in rest of the world will be for Reply’s “ Believed or not”, 14, 16 and in one store 24 EEEE (extra wide). Samoans were people of great strength, greater past and sweet music.
On the Commercial port side six clippers were on the dock three along side, as Port was small. First on the dock were loading supply, while others did last moment repairs or improvements. This was time before weather satellite communications, weather fax was luxury and Coast Guard radio was God given for short time and not that accurate. Most of sailors didn’t bother with predictions on Pacific. What’s to come will come and nothing one can do about.
On net yard, crew’s were mending the nets. Over Rainmaker peak , eternal clouds were hanging engulfing whole PagoPago in some kind of twilight, raining was common and if didn’t rain for hour or two , locals were already talking how weather is spoiled. Otherwise Pago was place where time seems to have stopped about sixty years ago in modern life. Underneath this westernized surface was still patriarchal society . Chiefs of villages were judges, and jury for Samoans. Only if conflicts were not solved by them culprits were sent to Police. If one was to conduct business in Samoa, his best bet was to visit chiefs, or Ultimate chief and ask for permission to do what ewer his business was. Once permission was given , word was spread and no difficulties were allowed. But if one didn’t do that, after a while he will found A. Samoa almost impossible to conduct business. Raising voice in conducting business was bad, threatening one Samoan was threatening all of them and some time strangers was beaten in the pulp. But if stranger follow the rules, visit the chief/s, respected local custom, treated people well, it was no limit and distance where Samoan will go to help you.
Our ship has just get paid, crew were in post office- last call home, Skippers were in Sadie Thompson restaurant and bar, some crew finished in Evalani’s bar, while singles and married hided in Rainmaker hotel rooms, making best of the time left before departure.
Departure was at five after noon, as after sunset was no way to pilot will take you out. Hatches secured, salt stocked and covered with plastic just in case. Deck hatches tightened down, so water from holds will not splash all over wet deck. Southern Pacific didn’t have mercy for people without respect. In heart beat Pacific will put arrogant soul on right place. Helicopter lashed down. Drums with oil discharged in holding tanks, last filters checks done, skiff lashed down, speed boat lashed down, radio buoys tested .
Million and one thing to do before lines were thrown of the dock. Deck boss hang bag with garlic on the bow- just in case to bad luck and sea witches attack. Cofiero brought two bags of salt to the stern deck. When she take of the dock tradition was to throw the salt on the dock, and people on the dock, for good luck, begging divine protection, for good weather, smooth sailing, and any other thousand and one reason one land critter, spending life on the rolling deck, being at sea months at the time, listening same story over and over again, from same faces. People knew better how their room mate sound when sleep than their spouses. This was close knitted society. Some landlubbers called us prisoners of our free will, others crazy, third did not understand how normal human being can spend days, weeks, months and years fishing. This was out of whack for majority. Ocean was newer place for majority. That was place for chosen few, few that chose to live, navigate and make living plowing blue endless surface.
Main engines were running, bow thruster idling, hydraulics whining, last strugglers were boarding. Navigator wife standing on the dock and listen for last words from husband that she will not see for weeks or months, Skipper on the winch controls with winch man, crew on the bow and stern stand by.
Five o clock.
“Let go the bow”
“Let go bow spring” Bow thruster shudder and start pushing ship away from dock.
”Let go stern spring” bow thruster increases power, and ships bow slowly turn to starboard.
“Let go stern line, rudder full to port” now bow and stern leaving dock. Salt was open and handful thrown on those remaining on the dock, on dock it self. Ships dog excited barking and running from bridge to hello deck, barking farewell to his Samoan cousins.
“Slow ahead”
“By, by”,” see you next time”, “be good and tell the kids to study”, ”will be back shortly”, “ see you in Guam” ,”By , by”
Last waves, bow was already turned toward mouth of Pago Pago harbor. Soon influence of the open ocean was felt. She start to pitch, roll, and bow under thrust of both engines plowing deeper in the open waters, while stern vibrated above variable stein less still propeller.
Skipper and navigator disappear in the bridge. Deck boss and crew stored lines in bow lazaret and on the starboard side of the house under the windows of the Skipper living quarters. Most of the jobs were done, small corrections here and there. Done. Crew gathered in the galley. Dinner was served and one by one people retired in cabins for some sleep before watch.
Morning comes all too early, but all knew to fishing grounds were still two days far away. Few shows up for breakfast, more for lunch, and all for dinner. Unloading was from seven in the morning, but crew prepped all since six o clock, and after unloading, it was happy time in Evalani’s or Sadi’s. Not much was left for sleep. Now, majority try to catch up between watch in engine room or on the bridge.
One more welcome night pass by. Sailing all time North, at economy speed, it will take at least three days to reach south Papua New Guinea, and fishing grounds. By direction of the ship old-timers were estimating position and future .
Day was hot, barometer was hectic. Navigator try to reach Australia on radio, but static was giving difficulties’ in communications.
“Newer before have seen barometer going crazy as today”
“Look on it and record changes, something is cooking around us”-Skipper says.
“Night watch, wake me up if the sea change’s I don’t liked” Navigator was spooked by something.
Chief engineer come to the bridge, he has same fillings, something in their watery world wasn’t right. Two of them has over eighty years on sea, and gut feeling was telling them to some danger was coming.
“Skipper, lets close water tight doors tonight, what do you say?”
“OK”, skipper knew better than argue.
He called deck boss to the bridge.
“Listen, will close all water tight doors, something is coming, barometer falling for hours now, wind changing directions, seas growing. Make sure to tell the cook and rest of the crew to tighten and secure all loose things. Remove bottles from tables. I think we are in for a devil’s dance.”
Chief engineer, assistant and watch men did same thing in engine. Bow hutch was battened down, bow storage space watertight door, dogged, deck hutch for bow thruster tightened.
On the deck, skiff man and rest of the crew tightened cable over the skiff. It was their substitute for life boat, It was unthinkable to waves wash it away. Some crew members pulled life jackets and inspected them. Others making fun of them followed suit. After years at Pacific most of them developed kind of
Sixth sense to trust gut feeling. Gut feeling is something eternal; always kick in when danger comes around. Cook pulled one life jacket made specially for the ship’s dog and have it handy. All went to sleep.
Tomorrow morning wasn’t better than night. Seas were white crested and confused. Barometer was still falling. To walk one must outreach by hands, and synchronize steps with motion of the ship. Cook didn’t cook anything. He prepared lots of sandwiches and crackers. Coffee maker was secured and empty. Bow was some time climbing up and up, and than falling down with big splash.
Crew was tending to regular duties; it was not much joking or messing around as when is situation normal, some heavy burden, invisible but there, hanging above them as Damocles sword. House was designed without windows, and was not much information’s from outside about conditions of sea. Now and then howling of the wind in riggings will come down through still structure. Hull was strong and they have engine room amid ship. This was best in this situation as point of gravity was deep down. All fish holds were full to the hutches to prevent liquid roll. Stabilizer or Flume tank in stern was filled to the optimum for best performance. Main boom was lowered down yesterday and lashed over the net and with double, single and rigging lay securely. Both cargo booms were down, also lashed and rigging tightened. Jocker’s were used to additionally reinforce booms.
Day was slow, but sea wasn’t to give up. More and more height of the seas was increasing. Sometime ship will sail up the wave for a long time. On the top of the crest will shudder for a moment, and than slide down in the through with increased speed. Once in the through she will slow down and try to fight her way up the next wave. All engineers and watch were dogged in engine room and stand by for any eventuality. Nights come, bilges were filling up through openings around the stacks, and water was slowly increasing level. To prevent sloshing, pumps were running as needed. In pipe alley bilges were dry, and bottom tanks were measured. Fuel purifier in service sucked fuel from bottom tanks and deposited in wing tanks, they started second purifier and set it up so it can suck fuel from wing tanks and re-purified.
Both twelve cylinder EMD’s were running smoothly. Hour after hour, ship was cutting seas, speed slowed down considerably, it was hard, hard but not alarming. They have been through similar before. Some went in the bed and try to rest; others were on the bridge listening to the radio Australia.
“Attention all mariners, attention all mariners, large tropical depression formed in position North of American Samoa has developed in fully blown typhoon. It is estimated to wind speeds were between seventy and ninety miles, with gusts of over one hundred miles. Special announcement for vessels at sea, watch out for rough seas. It is inspected to wave height will increase to forty feet; watch out for pattern in waves as rough waves might be inspected. Tomorrow is inspected further wind strength increase and accordingly wave action and height.”
Navigator switch station and found Papua New Guinea New Ireland missionary station. Missionary’s transmitted prayer for all sailors and people on the islands on the path of nature wrath. Skipper and Navigator look at each other.
“Don’t look good”
“Nope, it does not”
“We are in and just have to sail through. That’s all we can do. We don’t know how far and wide this is, and now is no way of returning”
Day was getting old, wind and waves growing, fears of unknown – unspoken. Skipper get on the PA and
Announced:
“Attention, we are in to get it, she is strong and build to last, we are in typhoon and Australians called it biggest in last few years. Make sure you got your money and documents in water tight bags and with you at all times. I don’t say will needed but better be ready than sorry”
Night was worst than day. Strong halogen lights on the bow were shining at hungry attacking seas. Navigator after a while decided to its better to run without them. She will sail smooth for a while and then start to climb. Five, ten degrees, fifteen degrees bow will go up and up, weight now on at the stern put big burden on propeller and navigator increases throttle and se us over. Once on the top of the crest, propeller will find it self in the air, engines will speed up and navigator then reduced speed to dead slows. Precariously hanging in balance for a moment, bow tilted downwards, prop hit the water and engines speed up by shear speed of surfing down in to the through. People in galley were trying to estimate height of the wave by time of climb and surf down, but it was just impossible. Some start to pray:
“Our father …………………………….
Dog that was never allowed access in the galley has his life jacket, curled on the floor and was squeaking, and from time to time he will get somebody legs and leak it. We newer knew to dogs can make tears, but terrified ship dog was crying and finally pee under himself.
All that was bad omen for people in galley, but there they are and have no place to go. Howling of the wind further increased, height of the seas become monstrous.
In one moment she run down the through, wave was so enormous to when she reached lowest in the through, didn’t have space and time to start to climb. Wave collapsed over her.
In the engine room men were with lanyards and belts, at all four crawling around equipment do what needed to do. Having engines running was life or death situation.
Submerged vessel start eating air from its own innards, hard working engines were rapidly sucking life giving oxygen from all parts of the vessel. Ears start to pop and hurt, engines suffocating for lack of air.
Green water running in the engine room through openings us newer knew we have.
Hull under enormous weight of water start to groan and moan, for a moment she stopped as in midair, it was as if she wants to decide if she wants to continue or to give up. And than with high speed she shoots to the surface, and start to fight her way up the next wave. Engineer’s ears popped up again, fresh air was streaming in the engine room. Chief and his crew all at once start to change one of fuel filters on duplex Racors we have installed recently. They were designed just for situations like this when one is forced to change filters and can’t shoot engine down. Same thing was with oil filters. One of the guys was in the stern rudder compartment making sure it’s enough oil in bearing system and hydraulics runs properly.
“Chief, I must tighten stern shaft packing it start to leak”
“Ok, make sure to you tighten across and evenly, don’t over-tight, as it can burn, Make sure you don’t get wrapped around the shaft”
“Chief bilge pump loosing suction, suction strainer is clogged up”
Assistant crawled to port side and with help of other engine man open deck plate under which were suction strainer. Black bilge water was sloshing around following motion of the vessel. Only way to clean large strainer was to get down under deck and shut valves close, clean strainer basket , and than re start the pump. Bilges were increasing with water from bow thruster and stern tubes.
“Pass me 15/16”
“Hold the deck plate, lashed with some rope”
“Pull basket up, pull, it’s heavy and full of garbage”
Chief come around and lend the hand, helping drag the strainer basket to the waste drum. After cleaning they restored order and bilge pump was happily dumping bilges over the side.
“I swear to God almighty, it is last time I have to deal with bilges in the storm. You bastards will clean this bilges until I can eat my dinner from. From tools, rags, sockets we found everything down there. Oh God please spare me and this collection of types, and I promise you I will have cleanest bilges in the world.” Chief engineer was pissed off.
Fighting seas she submerged numerous times through the night. Now was two days in this maelstrom. It was as somebody has thrown them in wash machine and tumble dryer.
Morning come. Wave hit the bow. From the bridge comes call to crew in the galley;
“Get me the plywood on the bridge and 2x4’s I need plywood and 2x4”
Crew scrambled, and from wet deck pulls pieces of ply wood to the bridge. Green water was running down the stairs from the bridge. Navigator bloodied face was white in fear; Skipper standing besides him didn’t pass any better. Crew batten improvised covers over busted windows. Sperry sonar was dead, washed with salt water, radios on the main console that has been inlaid were dead also, only two radios above windows were still running.
Great rumbling was heard from outside and 90 miles bird radar went black.
“We must lost transmitter on top of Crows nest” Says navigator.
Another wave hit and improvised windows survived. On hello pad above- screeching, and some struggle, all went quiet. Ship was continuing up and down the merciless seas.
“Skipper, I must to turn her about, one more like that and we might loose controls, or capsize. This is getting too much even for this old lady of the seas. I just don’t see how to, troughs were to stiff.”
“Check the compass, we has made turn already, and all this time we fight seas in the bow. If we succeed to turn her about , will surf down with following seas, but she might poke bow in through and decide not to come up no more.”
“That’s the chance we has to take, other vise, I am afraid for her.”
“Lets watch the pattern of the waves, all night were five in succession and then three big ones. If this is right, when we get down from last big one will try! Chief, Chief, will try to turn her about and sail with following seas, please be ready. Crew, be ready for sudden turn, I wont have time to tell you again”
Crew knew how hazardous was to turn ship about in storm. She can get caught by side sweep of the late wave and slide under surface forever. Crew braced for worst. In engine room Chief come around to his guys.
“That is guys, I am old son of a bitch, grumpy and grouchy but I am proud to have work with you. Just want to tell you that now while still have time. You are the best crew I have for long time.”
Longest speech and kindest words from old Primota (US Portuguese) one ewer heard. White faces of engine crew faced each other. Knuckles on hands gripping rails get white. Skipper was on the PA.
“Not yet, not yet, not yet, brace your self, NOW, NOW, turn baby turn”
Two EMD’s were giving their all; stern was shaking under stream of water from propeller. Ship for a moment stopped. It was as she think- this humans are crazy, I am not made for this. And than she slowly start to turn, than faster and better, wave was coming now from the side.
Navigator face was white, wide spread legs were shaking, steering wheel full to port.
“ Turn baby , please turn, good girl, turn , now, now, you bitch, turn now, big ones is coming, dammit, turn you old bitch, oh God let her turn, ill light candles’ for thy if you let me live through this, turn baby turn , yes, yes, at’ a girl, you are my best baby, YEEEEHAAAA,”
PA was bursting of yells from the bridge. Skipper have forgotten to he still has PA mike in hands and whole crew heard what’s going on, on the bridge. Crew scrambled on the bridge in ruins. Navigator and Skipper look at each other in disbelief.
“She turned about , did you see this big one just when our stern was in right position?”
“Navigator, you, you, you did it, I cant believed, you pulled this off”
Crew was chirring and slapping each other shoulders.
“Guys, we are not through yet, we might have smoother sailing now, but don’t let the guard off. Get the saws and cut this windows properly will dog them in from inside and cross from outside, this is not over yet”
She was limping down and up the waves. Windows were blanked. Navigator steered on instructions from Skipper . Two days after seas become friendlier, waves subsided, Navigator succeeded for a first time in days to take sky down and plot position.
“Skipper we are three hundred miles behind the point we get in this mess and one hundred fifty miles to the East”
They calculated position twice and results were the same storm did it right. When crew finally wandered on the deck, it was picture to be seen. Crows nest almost eighty feet above sea line – gone, half mast broken in pieces, and mid mast radar tangled base with just enough clearance for antenna to turn. Speed boat was gone with cradle. Starboard passage cleared of all clutter and radio buys. On hello pad old Bell 47 was sitting on the skids almost to the edge of the roof, rotors washed away, bubble busted in shreds. One of bow cranes gone ripped from foundation. On the stern skiff was out of the skids and laying almost side way on the stern, half of the net hanging over the cork. Chain and rings moved almost three feet to starboard, meaning whole net was floating. Shut for fish gone, both cargo booms and main boom were crooked as English long bow. Radios lost, she was limping in the Guam her home port. It was no way of telling anyone about condition.
Week’s pas by and odor in the air signaled land, sweet smell of jungle , floating coconuts and soda cans .
Finally in the range of channel 16 Navigator called :
“This is tuna vessel, asking permission to enter Apra harbor, we has suffered damage in storm and need repairs, out”
“Tuna vessel, tuna vessel, this is US coast Guard, what’s your status, do you need any assistance?”
“US CG, US CG this is tuna vessel, no we don’t need assistance, thank you”
“Harbor master, harbor master this is tuna vessel, need priority in docking in front of Casamar.”
“Tuna vessel, tuna vessel, I see you, you have permission to get on Casamar dock.
Cannery workers in white overcoats work on lines producing tuna cans in millions. Samoan unloaders hired by Agents of Blue Angel were on the ships unloading frozen fish. In lava-lavas native dress –skirt like, some wearing zories, others in busted up rubber boots and most of them barefoot. Most of new comers were awestruck seeing this people barefoot on the frozen fish that has temperature of minus thirteen degrees Celsius.
After becoming familiar with Samoa they understand to on Samoa things were different than in rest of World. Samoan People were huge race, most common sizes of T shits were in 4 to 6 XL, shorts , shoes were in sizes that in rest of the world will be for Reply’s “ Believed or not”, 14, 16 and in one store 24 EEEE (extra wide). Samoans were people of great strength, greater past and sweet music.
On the Commercial port side six clippers were on the dock three along side, as Port was small. First on the dock were loading supply, while others did last moment repairs or improvements. This was time before weather satellite communications, weather fax was luxury and Coast Guard radio was God given for short time and not that accurate. Most of sailors didn’t bother with predictions on Pacific. What’s to come will come and nothing one can do about.
On net yard, crew’s were mending the nets. Over Rainmaker peak , eternal clouds were hanging engulfing whole PagoPago in some kind of twilight, raining was common and if didn’t rain for hour or two , locals were already talking how weather is spoiled. Otherwise Pago was place where time seems to have stopped about sixty years ago in modern life. Underneath this westernized surface was still patriarchal society . Chiefs of villages were judges, and jury for Samoans. Only if conflicts were not solved by them culprits were sent to Police. If one was to conduct business in Samoa, his best bet was to visit chiefs, or Ultimate chief and ask for permission to do what ewer his business was. Once permission was given , word was spread and no difficulties were allowed. But if one didn’t do that, after a while he will found A. Samoa almost impossible to conduct business. Raising voice in conducting business was bad, threatening one Samoan was threatening all of them and some time strangers was beaten in the pulp. But if stranger follow the rules, visit the chief/s, respected local custom, treated people well, it was no limit and distance where Samoan will go to help you.
Our ship has just get paid, crew were in post office- last call home, Skippers were in Sadie Thompson restaurant and bar, some crew finished in Evalani’s bar, while singles and married hided in Rainmaker hotel rooms, making best of the time left before departure.
Departure was at five after noon, as after sunset was no way to pilot will take you out. Hatches secured, salt stocked and covered with plastic just in case. Deck hatches tightened down, so water from holds will not splash all over wet deck. Southern Pacific didn’t have mercy for people without respect. In heart beat Pacific will put arrogant soul on right place. Helicopter lashed down. Drums with oil discharged in holding tanks, last filters checks done, skiff lashed down, speed boat lashed down, radio buoys tested .
Million and one thing to do before lines were thrown of the dock. Deck boss hang bag with garlic on the bow- just in case to bad luck and sea witches attack. Cofiero brought two bags of salt to the stern deck. When she take of the dock tradition was to throw the salt on the dock, and people on the dock, for good luck, begging divine protection, for good weather, smooth sailing, and any other thousand and one reason one land critter, spending life on the rolling deck, being at sea months at the time, listening same story over and over again, from same faces. People knew better how their room mate sound when sleep than their spouses. This was close knitted society. Some landlubbers called us prisoners of our free will, others crazy, third did not understand how normal human being can spend days, weeks, months and years fishing. This was out of whack for majority. Ocean was newer place for majority. That was place for chosen few, few that chose to live, navigate and make living plowing blue endless surface.
Main engines were running, bow thruster idling, hydraulics whining, last strugglers were boarding. Navigator wife standing on the dock and listen for last words from husband that she will not see for weeks or months, Skipper on the winch controls with winch man, crew on the bow and stern stand by.
Five o clock.
“Let go the bow”
“Let go bow spring” Bow thruster shudder and start pushing ship away from dock.
”Let go stern spring” bow thruster increases power, and ships bow slowly turn to starboard.
“Let go stern line, rudder full to port” now bow and stern leaving dock. Salt was open and handful thrown on those remaining on the dock, on dock it self. Ships dog excited barking and running from bridge to hello deck, barking farewell to his Samoan cousins.
“Slow ahead”
“By, by”,” see you next time”, “be good and tell the kids to study”, ”will be back shortly”, “ see you in Guam” ,”By , by”
Last waves, bow was already turned toward mouth of Pago Pago harbor. Soon influence of the open ocean was felt. She start to pitch, roll, and bow under thrust of both engines plowing deeper in the open waters, while stern vibrated above variable stein less still propeller.
Skipper and navigator disappear in the bridge. Deck boss and crew stored lines in bow lazaret and on the starboard side of the house under the windows of the Skipper living quarters. Most of the jobs were done, small corrections here and there. Done. Crew gathered in the galley. Dinner was served and one by one people retired in cabins for some sleep before watch.
Morning comes all too early, but all knew to fishing grounds were still two days far away. Few shows up for breakfast, more for lunch, and all for dinner. Unloading was from seven in the morning, but crew prepped all since six o clock, and after unloading, it was happy time in Evalani’s or Sadi’s. Not much was left for sleep. Now, majority try to catch up between watch in engine room or on the bridge.
One more welcome night pass by. Sailing all time North, at economy speed, it will take at least three days to reach south Papua New Guinea, and fishing grounds. By direction of the ship old-timers were estimating position and future .
Day was hot, barometer was hectic. Navigator try to reach Australia on radio, but static was giving difficulties’ in communications.
“Newer before have seen barometer going crazy as today”
“Look on it and record changes, something is cooking around us”-Skipper says.
“Night watch, wake me up if the sea change’s I don’t liked” Navigator was spooked by something.
Chief engineer come to the bridge, he has same fillings, something in their watery world wasn’t right. Two of them has over eighty years on sea, and gut feeling was telling them to some danger was coming.
“Skipper, lets close water tight doors tonight, what do you say?”
“OK”, skipper knew better than argue.
He called deck boss to the bridge.
“Listen, will close all water tight doors, something is coming, barometer falling for hours now, wind changing directions, seas growing. Make sure to tell the cook and rest of the crew to tighten and secure all loose things. Remove bottles from tables. I think we are in for a devil’s dance.”
Chief engineer, assistant and watch men did same thing in engine. Bow hutch was battened down, bow storage space watertight door, dogged, deck hutch for bow thruster tightened.
On the deck, skiff man and rest of the crew tightened cable over the skiff. It was their substitute for life boat, It was unthinkable to waves wash it away. Some crew members pulled life jackets and inspected them. Others making fun of them followed suit. After years at Pacific most of them developed kind of
Sixth sense to trust gut feeling. Gut feeling is something eternal; always kick in when danger comes around. Cook pulled one life jacket made specially for the ship’s dog and have it handy. All went to sleep.
Tomorrow morning wasn’t better than night. Seas were white crested and confused. Barometer was still falling. To walk one must outreach by hands, and synchronize steps with motion of the ship. Cook didn’t cook anything. He prepared lots of sandwiches and crackers. Coffee maker was secured and empty. Bow was some time climbing up and up, and than falling down with big splash.
Crew was tending to regular duties; it was not much joking or messing around as when is situation normal, some heavy burden, invisible but there, hanging above them as Damocles sword. House was designed without windows, and was not much information’s from outside about conditions of sea. Now and then howling of the wind in riggings will come down through still structure. Hull was strong and they have engine room amid ship. This was best in this situation as point of gravity was deep down. All fish holds were full to the hutches to prevent liquid roll. Stabilizer or Flume tank in stern was filled to the optimum for best performance. Main boom was lowered down yesterday and lashed over the net and with double, single and rigging lay securely. Both cargo booms were down, also lashed and rigging tightened. Jocker’s were used to additionally reinforce booms.
Day was slow, but sea wasn’t to give up. More and more height of the seas was increasing. Sometime ship will sail up the wave for a long time. On the top of the crest will shudder for a moment, and than slide down in the through with increased speed. Once in the through she will slow down and try to fight her way up the next wave. All engineers and watch were dogged in engine room and stand by for any eventuality. Nights come, bilges were filling up through openings around the stacks, and water was slowly increasing level. To prevent sloshing, pumps were running as needed. In pipe alley bilges were dry, and bottom tanks were measured. Fuel purifier in service sucked fuel from bottom tanks and deposited in wing tanks, they started second purifier and set it up so it can suck fuel from wing tanks and re-purified.
Both twelve cylinder EMD’s were running smoothly. Hour after hour, ship was cutting seas, speed slowed down considerably, it was hard, hard but not alarming. They have been through similar before. Some went in the bed and try to rest; others were on the bridge listening to the radio Australia.
“Attention all mariners, attention all mariners, large tropical depression formed in position North of American Samoa has developed in fully blown typhoon. It is estimated to wind speeds were between seventy and ninety miles, with gusts of over one hundred miles. Special announcement for vessels at sea, watch out for rough seas. It is inspected to wave height will increase to forty feet; watch out for pattern in waves as rough waves might be inspected. Tomorrow is inspected further wind strength increase and accordingly wave action and height.”
Navigator switch station and found Papua New Guinea New Ireland missionary station. Missionary’s transmitted prayer for all sailors and people on the islands on the path of nature wrath. Skipper and Navigator look at each other.
“Don’t look good”
“Nope, it does not”
“We are in and just have to sail through. That’s all we can do. We don’t know how far and wide this is, and now is no way of returning”
Day was getting old, wind and waves growing, fears of unknown – unspoken. Skipper get on the PA and
Announced:
“Attention, we are in to get it, she is strong and build to last, we are in typhoon and Australians called it biggest in last few years. Make sure you got your money and documents in water tight bags and with you at all times. I don’t say will needed but better be ready than sorry”
Night was worst than day. Strong halogen lights on the bow were shining at hungry attacking seas. Navigator after a while decided to its better to run without them. She will sail smooth for a while and then start to climb. Five, ten degrees, fifteen degrees bow will go up and up, weight now on at the stern put big burden on propeller and navigator increases throttle and se us over. Once on the top of the crest, propeller will find it self in the air, engines will speed up and navigator then reduced speed to dead slows. Precariously hanging in balance for a moment, bow tilted downwards, prop hit the water and engines speed up by shear speed of surfing down in to the through. People in galley were trying to estimate height of the wave by time of climb and surf down, but it was just impossible. Some start to pray:
“Our father …………………………….
Dog that was never allowed access in the galley has his life jacket, curled on the floor and was squeaking, and from time to time he will get somebody legs and leak it. We newer knew to dogs can make tears, but terrified ship dog was crying and finally pee under himself.
All that was bad omen for people in galley, but there they are and have no place to go. Howling of the wind further increased, height of the seas become monstrous.
In one moment she run down the through, wave was so enormous to when she reached lowest in the through, didn’t have space and time to start to climb. Wave collapsed over her.
In the engine room men were with lanyards and belts, at all four crawling around equipment do what needed to do. Having engines running was life or death situation.
Submerged vessel start eating air from its own innards, hard working engines were rapidly sucking life giving oxygen from all parts of the vessel. Ears start to pop and hurt, engines suffocating for lack of air.
Green water running in the engine room through openings us newer knew we have.
Hull under enormous weight of water start to groan and moan, for a moment she stopped as in midair, it was as if she wants to decide if she wants to continue or to give up. And than with high speed she shoots to the surface, and start to fight her way up the next wave. Engineer’s ears popped up again, fresh air was streaming in the engine room. Chief and his crew all at once start to change one of fuel filters on duplex Racors we have installed recently. They were designed just for situations like this when one is forced to change filters and can’t shoot engine down. Same thing was with oil filters. One of the guys was in the stern rudder compartment making sure it’s enough oil in bearing system and hydraulics runs properly.
“Chief, I must tighten stern shaft packing it start to leak”
“Ok, make sure to you tighten across and evenly, don’t over-tight, as it can burn, Make sure you don’t get wrapped around the shaft”
“Chief bilge pump loosing suction, suction strainer is clogged up”
Assistant crawled to port side and with help of other engine man open deck plate under which were suction strainer. Black bilge water was sloshing around following motion of the vessel. Only way to clean large strainer was to get down under deck and shut valves close, clean strainer basket , and than re start the pump. Bilges were increasing with water from bow thruster and stern tubes.
“Pass me 15/16”
“Hold the deck plate, lashed with some rope”
“Pull basket up, pull, it’s heavy and full of garbage”
Chief come around and lend the hand, helping drag the strainer basket to the waste drum. After cleaning they restored order and bilge pump was happily dumping bilges over the side.
“I swear to God almighty, it is last time I have to deal with bilges in the storm. You bastards will clean this bilges until I can eat my dinner from. From tools, rags, sockets we found everything down there. Oh God please spare me and this collection of types, and I promise you I will have cleanest bilges in the world.” Chief engineer was pissed off.
Fighting seas she submerged numerous times through the night. Now was two days in this maelstrom. It was as somebody has thrown them in wash machine and tumble dryer.
Morning come. Wave hit the bow. From the bridge comes call to crew in the galley;
“Get me the plywood on the bridge and 2x4’s I need plywood and 2x4”
Crew scrambled, and from wet deck pulls pieces of ply wood to the bridge. Green water was running down the stairs from the bridge. Navigator bloodied face was white in fear; Skipper standing besides him didn’t pass any better. Crew batten improvised covers over busted windows. Sperry sonar was dead, washed with salt water, radios on the main console that has been inlaid were dead also, only two radios above windows were still running.
Great rumbling was heard from outside and 90 miles bird radar went black.
“We must lost transmitter on top of Crows nest” Says navigator.
Another wave hit and improvised windows survived. On hello pad above- screeching, and some struggle, all went quiet. Ship was continuing up and down the merciless seas.
“Skipper, I must to turn her about, one more like that and we might loose controls, or capsize. This is getting too much even for this old lady of the seas. I just don’t see how to, troughs were to stiff.”
“Check the compass, we has made turn already, and all this time we fight seas in the bow. If we succeed to turn her about , will surf down with following seas, but she might poke bow in through and decide not to come up no more.”
“That’s the chance we has to take, other vise, I am afraid for her.”
“Lets watch the pattern of the waves, all night were five in succession and then three big ones. If this is right, when we get down from last big one will try! Chief, Chief, will try to turn her about and sail with following seas, please be ready. Crew, be ready for sudden turn, I wont have time to tell you again”
Crew knew how hazardous was to turn ship about in storm. She can get caught by side sweep of the late wave and slide under surface forever. Crew braced for worst. In engine room Chief come around to his guys.
“That is guys, I am old son of a bitch, grumpy and grouchy but I am proud to have work with you. Just want to tell you that now while still have time. You are the best crew I have for long time.”
Longest speech and kindest words from old Primota (US Portuguese) one ewer heard. White faces of engine crew faced each other. Knuckles on hands gripping rails get white. Skipper was on the PA.
“Not yet, not yet, not yet, brace your self, NOW, NOW, turn baby turn”
Two EMD’s were giving their all; stern was shaking under stream of water from propeller. Ship for a moment stopped. It was as she think- this humans are crazy, I am not made for this. And than she slowly start to turn, than faster and better, wave was coming now from the side.
Navigator face was white, wide spread legs were shaking, steering wheel full to port.
“ Turn baby , please turn, good girl, turn , now, now, you bitch, turn now, big ones is coming, dammit, turn you old bitch, oh God let her turn, ill light candles’ for thy if you let me live through this, turn baby turn , yes, yes, at’ a girl, you are my best baby, YEEEEHAAAA,”
PA was bursting of yells from the bridge. Skipper have forgotten to he still has PA mike in hands and whole crew heard what’s going on, on the bridge. Crew scrambled on the bridge in ruins. Navigator and Skipper look at each other in disbelief.
“She turned about , did you see this big one just when our stern was in right position?”
“Navigator, you, you, you did it, I cant believed, you pulled this off”
Crew was chirring and slapping each other shoulders.
“Guys, we are not through yet, we might have smoother sailing now, but don’t let the guard off. Get the saws and cut this windows properly will dog them in from inside and cross from outside, this is not over yet”
She was limping down and up the waves. Windows were blanked. Navigator steered on instructions from Skipper . Two days after seas become friendlier, waves subsided, Navigator succeeded for a first time in days to take sky down and plot position.
“Skipper we are three hundred miles behind the point we get in this mess and one hundred fifty miles to the East”
They calculated position twice and results were the same storm did it right. When crew finally wandered on the deck, it was picture to be seen. Crows nest almost eighty feet above sea line – gone, half mast broken in pieces, and mid mast radar tangled base with just enough clearance for antenna to turn. Speed boat was gone with cradle. Starboard passage cleared of all clutter and radio buys. On hello pad old Bell 47 was sitting on the skids almost to the edge of the roof, rotors washed away, bubble busted in shreds. One of bow cranes gone ripped from foundation. On the stern skiff was out of the skids and laying almost side way on the stern, half of the net hanging over the cork. Chain and rings moved almost three feet to starboard, meaning whole net was floating. Shut for fish gone, both cargo booms and main boom were crooked as English long bow. Radios lost, she was limping in the Guam her home port. It was no way of telling anyone about condition.
Week’s pas by and odor in the air signaled land, sweet smell of jungle , floating coconuts and soda cans .
Finally in the range of channel 16 Navigator called :
“This is tuna vessel, asking permission to enter Apra harbor, we has suffered damage in storm and need repairs, out”
“Tuna vessel, tuna vessel, this is US coast Guard, what’s your status, do you need any assistance?”
“US CG, US CG this is tuna vessel, no we don’t need assistance, thank you”
“Harbor master, harbor master this is tuna vessel, need priority in docking in front of Casamar.”
“Tuna vessel, tuna vessel, I see you, you have permission to get on Casamar dock.
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