A question of Safety
The structure of the Arrow creaked and groaned as the ship rose and then plunged through heavy waves in the North Sea. At regular intervals vibrations travelled along the length of the ship as the bow climbed up a rushing wall of water, left the water and plunged with a load bang into the next wave. Over laying the protesting steel and the vibrating panels, was the scream of the wind in the rigging. All prudent sailors would have put into shelter long ago but the company had a reputation for getting to the destination even in the worst weather.
Braced against the uneven movements of the ship, I sat at my desk in my cabin on an armchair firmly fixed to the floor. Spread out before me were the cargo papers and the crews overtime sheets, all held down with paper weights. My gin and tonic was in a glass holder attached to the desk top, designed specifically to stop any drinks moving across the desk during a storm.
With half my mind I was listening, trying to put the sounds of the ship in storm to the background so that I could recognise any out of place noises. To many people confronted with the noises and movement of the ship in a gale for the first time, the idea of the creaks, groans, vibrations and bangings being ignored is very strange. How can anybody put these things to the back of their mind. To me the sounds of a shop in a storm are familiar and to be lived with during a voyage. Like the conductor of an orchestra, the seaman notices the out of key sounds. While I listened there were no out of the ordinary sounds. Satisfied, I continued with my paper work.
Suddenly, the ship took a larger heel. spray smashed against the portholes of my cabin and the ship shuddered violently before rolling back upright the steel protesting loudly. It felt like a wrestler throwing a great weight from his shoulders. There was a loud bang. the screaming of severed steel and the whole ship’s hull vibrated./ The ship rolled again and there was another bang as it came upright.
Without thinking, I was racing out of the cabin door when the phone rang. I turned back and lifted the receiver.
“ What!” I growled.
“ This is the Third mate from the bridge.” The voice sounded scared and worried. “ The captain is on his way. One of the containers we stowed on the hatch cover on the after deck has come loose. The Captain asked me to tell you to get down on deck and asses what has happened. Can you report to him on the bridge regarding what will be needed?”
“ Tell the captain I am on my way. “ I threw down the phone and rushed out of the accommodation.
The bosun was standing by the rail just outside of the door to the accommodation He was staring wide eyed along the after deck. Even in his heavy weather gear he was wet through. When I joined him all he could do was point. The container we had stowed on top of number three hatch had broken some of its lashings. As we watched, the box was caught by another enormous sea as the ship rolled to port and the deck edge submerged. Water boiled over the deck, smashing against the hatch combing, sending a cloud of stinging spray against the aft accommodation block. The remaining lashings twanged with the strain. Half the container was over the side of the ship and was threatening to smash into the aft accommodation if it came completely adrift. as it was the wave lifted the end , pushing it on board and as the ship returned to the upright shedding water over the side in a waterfall, it landed with a loud crash bending the rail and threatening to stove in the hatch cover.
The bosun remark as though rehearsing his lines to a committee of enquiry,” I checked the lashings with you before we sailed and they looked strong enough to me. What are we going to do?”
I did not hesitate. ~” get all the deck crew to have a look and then assemble in the mess. We have to work out what can be done and I will not ask anybody to take any risks until we have all agreed what we can do. Some of them may have seen something similar in the past and they can tell us what they did then. I am going to the bridge to see if the captain can bring the ship round so that it stops rolling green water across the deck Then I will put on my heavy weather gear and join you in the mess.”
The bosun looked startled and ducked as another bout of spray lashed across the deck. I did not see him dodging behind the hatch combing as he made his way aft along the torturous deck. After climbing the ladder to the bridge and arriving breathless, I found the captain on the bridge wing staring aft.
On spying me he asked, “ Well?”
I shrugged. “ As you can see, the container we loaded onto number three hatch has come adrift. It has broken the forward lashings but the aft ones are holding. It is now at an angle to the hatch with at least half its length over the side. The remaining lashings are not going to hold much longer with the pounding they are taking.”|
“ What happens if they snap?” the Captain was trying to gauge the likely path of the container if it broke free. “ Will the box float away?”
“ As far as I can see not at that angle to the deck. The likely out come of the aft lashings breaking is for the box to lift clear of the hatch cover and smash into the aft accommodation. We can’t be sure how much damage it will inflict or if even then it will be washed clear. Besides which it will most likely damage the hatch cover and flood the hold. i have no idea whether the bilge pumps will cope with that much water. That is in addition to the ruined cargo.”
“ What do you want me to do to help?”
“ Can you try to turn the ship so that we are running down wind? That way the sea will tend to push the container back on deck.”
“ I can try though the ship will roll like a model boat in the bath while we are turning. See what you can do about that container.”
I thanked the captain and raced back to my cabin. As I donned my heavy weather gear the ship bucked and rolled alarmingly. I had to steady myself against the desk to pull on my water proof trousers but I managed somehow to dress. When I came back on the deck, the ship was pitching violently with the waves picking up the stern and planning the ship along on the crest before falling into the trough. As I battled along the deck towards the aft accommodation, I did notice that there was less water coming across the deck. Every so often there was a violent lurch and I had to hold onto the rail as the waves rushed over me.
Arriving dripping wet, the bosun and five sailors were in the mess waiting. The bosun explained that the other sailor was on the bridge steering the ship.
“ Well,” I said looking around at their tense faces. “ As you have all seen the box is half over the side. Have you any suggestions?”
There was a shuffling of feet but none of them spoke.
The bosun intervened. “ look men, I have sailed with the Chief Officer before on a number of voyages. He is genuinely asking for your opinions.”
“ I know you might not be used to an officer asking your opinion but there must be somebody with some experience of similar situations. I have never been in this position before. Some of us are going to have to go out there in the teeth of the gale and do something about that box. I want to make sure that we come up with a feasible solution before I ask somebody to help me.”
Like nervous school children, they stuttered at first but soon a discussion was taking place. They started to relate incidents which had happened of previous ships or that they had heard about I was surprised at the depth of experience they could call on.
After a while I held up my hand. “ That was fascinating. Distilling the essence of what you have discussed, I see there are two alternatives. One is to cut the wires and cast the box away. the other is to somehow get a rope attached and heave the box back aboard. As you have all pointed out there are dangers in both suggestions.”
One of the sailors interrupted. “ Have you ever experienced what happens when a wire breaks?”
Quietly I replied. “ Yes.”
The bosun butted in before I could go on. “ The chief officer was the second mate on the Venture when the wire broke leaving Hull and the third mate lost his leg. So he knows the dangers. He went and told the third mates family and girl friend and took them to the hospital.”
The sailor said equally quietly. “ Sorry Mister mate.”
I shrugged. “ OK. Taking things from there. We have no control over what happens when the wires are cut. They are going to be stretched like piano strings. The main danger is to the one who cuts through the wire. I would not like for any of you to get hurt so I would have to do that. But I would need somebody with me to make sure I am not swept away if a wave breaks over the deck and to pull me clear of the box as it is swept up by waves. There is no knowing where the box will go It could smash into he aft accommodation and do limitless damage.”
I paused. “ I must admit from what you have all said and from my experience, I favour the second option, trying to get a rope attached. If we can get a rope attached there is a fair chance we can heave it back on board. I know there are dangers in this option. One of the sailors will have to come down on deck with me and c limb onto the hatch by the moving container. It will be slippery and we might have waves coming aboard. At the same time we will have to dodge the end of the container if it is lifted by a wave. Bosun, have you got a line with a hook spliced to the end?”
The bosun frowned. “ I have a large strong hook that will do the job. I will have to go and splice it to a rope. If you mange to get it hooked into the eye of the box I hope it will be strong enough.”
“ Who is going to come down on the deck with me?” I asked looking round at the concerned faces. I knew it was asking a great deal, maybe outside the normal duties of a sailor but I needed somebody with me when I stepped out on the deck.
“ I will,” the bosun interjected before anybody else could answer. ‘ I think you should stay by the accommodation directing operations from there.”
“ I am sorry bosun but I think this is a job I will have to do. I will go onto the deck with one of the sailors. We will take the rope with the hook and make this fast to a tackle attached to the eyebolt near the central winch platform. The rope will then be led back to the aft winch. You will direct operations from there. Now who is going to come down on the deck with me?”
Jock Winters volunteered. He was a stocky, small sailor with tattoos on his arms and a face that looked as though it had run into the back of a bus. He was not the most reliable of characters and in port always got drunk. However, he wad the best rope thrower on the ship and he did volunteer. I never asked him why.
We all waited impatiently while the bosun spliced the rope to the hook and arranged the tackle. When he rejoined us in the mess, we all went out on deck. Jock and I descended onto the deck. Jock carried the rope, I had the tackle over my shoulder, the rope trailing away to the wing. It was difficult to carry these and get our balance against the heaving and rolling of the ship. As we left the shelter of the aft structure, the ship lurched violently and a wall of water washed over he deck almost knocking us off our feet. Jock grinned but my heart was beating too fast for me to grin back. Almost overhead the container moved, banging into the hatch and making the remaining lashings twang. Another wave broke over the deck and I had to grab Jock as he lost his footing. He grinned again.
Gingerly we climbed onto the hatch cover, the container towering above our heads. The ship rolled and another waved washed over the deck catching the corner of the box. It lifted from the hatch and moved in our direction. I held my breath but it dropped with a bang before it caught us. Jock’s face was now white and he had stopped grinning. I was glad I could not see mine.
We cautiously made our way to the forward part of the hatch and made the tackle fast on the eye bolt. The bosun tightened the rope. Jock walked towards the corner of the container the hook in his hand, whole I held the rest of the rope. As the ship rolled I braced myself and held onto Jock by his coat. He swung the hook back and forth. At the right trajectory, he let go. The hook sailed up into the air but it hit the side of the container with a loud clang and fell back onto the hatch at our feet. As spray lashed us once more, Jock calmly recoiled the rope , set himself and threw. This time the hook landed on the top of the container. Slowly, to me agonisingly slowly, Jock eased the rope through his hands. Even above the sound of the wind, the sea and the waves, we could hear the hook scraping against the roof of the container. It fell with a loud clunk into the twist lock holder. Almost holding our breath, we pulled on the rope. The hook held fast. I let my breath go in a long whoosh realising I had been holding it for quite a while. As we signalled to the bosun to start tightening the rope, a wave caught the container and it rose in the air to smash back as the wave passed. The hatch covers creaked and groaned as though on the brink of breaking.
We watched as another wave caught the container lifting it clear of the hatch. I signalled for the bosun ti heave away on the winch. In this way each time the container lifted on a wave, we heaved in on the rope. After what seemed to jock and me an age during which we were battered by spray and slipping on the metal hatch cover as the ship lurched and rolled, the container was back in position.
The rest of the sailors swarmed onto the deck, some climbing onto the container the others on deck. Soon wires were attached to all the lashing points and the container was secured in position.
I phoned the Captain on the bridge to tell him that we had secured the container back in position. He started to turn the ship back on course. It rolled violently but the container remained lashed to the hatch top. I ordered the sailors and the bosun back to the mess. Before going to join them I grabbed a bottled of rum from my cabin and ordered the chief steward to deliver some cases of beer to the mess.
We sat and drank to our success. In a way it was a triumphant party. We were all proud of what we had accomplished. We have saved the ship from major damage and rescued a container of cargo. Like true seamen we thought we had acted for the benefit of the ship[ ignoring the danger to ourselves. The drink and companionship allowed us to release the tension and fear. It moulded a group of seamen into a close knit team.
As I walked back along the deck sheltering from the spray and water, I examined the damage. The bulwark was twisted and bent but not beyond repair. While stripping off my heavy weather gear, I was quietly pleased that we had managed to succeed without any outside help.
