Somewhere in the North Atlantic…(even better than “It was a
dark and stormy night”)
Well actually it was the Bahamian Sea which is technically
the North Atlantic but somehow doesn’t sound as cool…
The mighty GRAND ISLE was forwardedly deployed to Miami from
our homeport, Gloucester. Our
mission (and we had no choice but to accept it) was to support a drug
interdiction operation running around the Bahamas. Now, that may sound like a tip of the spear type endeavor
but not so fast my friends. Our
job was to stay covert in a place just south of the Tongue of the Ocean (its
real—Google it!!)…we were tasked with doing a BARPAT (fancy term for steaming
back and forth along a one trackline…over and over (and over!!) again. So, not the glamorous patrol I was hoping
for this far from home.
This particular patrol started with a trip down the
coastline stopping a couple of times along the way for fuel. The Coast Guard felt that more
resources in and around the Seventh District could help stem the tide of
illegal drugs. GRAND ISLE’s normal
mission was enforcing “living
marine resources” regulations.
That is a relatively fancy term for fish boardings…making sure that the
New England fish stocks…ah what the hell…it’s a boring conversation anyway…
So, GI had been working for a couple of weeks burning holes
in the ocean with very little to show for it (during the patrol we had to evade
Hurricane Mitch; a whole other sea story for a different day…and really not a
funny story at all…actually that would fall under the horror genre if I do say
so myself). We were now pros at
the stealth patrol—avoiding contacts—which went against all of my professional
instincts.
This particular evening was OPS NORMAL…so my Chief Engineer
and I sat down to drink some coffee, play a little cribbage, and watch
Braveheart (pre Mel meltdown).
Right before the first MAJOR battle scene the whole ship experienced a
brown out…somewhat eerie I might add but not completely out of the ordinary. That said my Chief felt it would be
solid idea have a quick look in the Engine Room. So naturally I kept watching the movie…
A good, whole three minutes later I heard one of the main
diesel engines just stop…most unsettling.
Chief opened the Engine Room hatch and said he would get this fixed
right away…no worries. I was the
Captain so of course I worried my way up to the bridge. My OOD was suitably concerned and on
the sound powered phone with the Engineer of the Watch.
I settled in the Captain’s chair with a cup of coffee
and…the second engine shut down.
Not really what I was expecting when Chief had said “No worries”. In fact I would say this is the exact
opposite of no worries. EDITORIAL
NOTE: Those of you who know me
well understand my Zen-like calm that I always exude…ok you can stop laughing
now.
So…every instinct says to stay on the bridge and wait for
Mick (my Chief) to let me know what is going on…then one of the generators
shuts down. Deep breath
now…until…the final generator shut down and then everything else on the ship
too…
We have battery back up for a few systems…radar, some
radios…that’s about it. And if we
are not inport the batteries are what we use to start…everything: generators
and engines.
Now I cannot help myself and head below decks to the engine
room to find out what is going on and what I can do. What I saw was…something less than reassuring.
Mick is standing on one of the generators and his department
is running around the engine room with five gallon buckets of diesel fuel. Not what I was expecting…to say the
least.
Mike looks at me and for the first time since he has been my
Engineer he seemed a bit…hmmmm…put off…
“Captain” he started and at this point I knew we might have
a slight problem “this is REALLY not the time…get back to the bridge!”
Now, normally as the commanding officer the crew refrained
from giving me orders…in this case I felt discretion was the order of the day;
I went back to the bridge.
So, we are dead in the water, middle of nowhere, no power,
no long range radio and a battery backup that was our only chance to get this
righted. My XO and I discussed
every possible option; shutting down all systems, breaking out the flares,
getting the EPIRB ready, deploying a sea anchor…but at the end of the day the
all came to one conclusion…we were going to have to call the Coast Guard for a
tow…lamentations promptly ensued.
I think I said something like:
“I don’t care if we drift until the Second Coming, we are
NOT calling another patrol boat for a tow!!!”…something like that…there may
have been a few more colorful adjectives, nouns, adverbs….
Waiting…and waiting…for my chief to come up and tell us what
happened.
Still waiting…
And…yep…still waiting.
In all actuality it was probably 20 minutes but you get the
idea. I am genetically predisposed
with the patience of a 7 year old on Christmas morning.
I hear some doors opening down below and on queue Mick
bounds up the ladder to the bridge.
He is not looking optimistic in fact his demeanor is downright
downtrodden (can you do that…two consecutive words starting with down? The world wonders).
By the way Mick is from England so imagine this with an
accent.
“Sir…not sure how it happened but we bleed air throughout
the whole fuel system.”
What he really said we filled with engineering language (and
colorful metaphors) that I did not understand then and certainly can’t remember
15 years later.
“What we need to do is replace one valve and prime fuel into
the whole system. Then, if that
works, we light of a generator using the batteries. If that works we will be fine…if it doesn’t…” Mick let it hang there knowing what it
would mean. Very calmly I
reiterated my desire to avoid calling the Coast Guard for a tow.
Mick got all in place…called to his head mechanic and told
him to start one of the generators.
Imagine if you will every horror or action movie when the car NEEDED to
start…what happens…the whole theater hears the engine cycle but not turn
over. That’s what we got
here…THREE TIMES!
On the fourth try I am doing my best not to have an aneurism
on the bridge when the GEN catches and turns over. Imagine if you will the Ewoks on Endor when DS II
explodes…same thing on the bridge of the mighty GRAND ISLE.
With the power from the first generator we light of rest of
the systems including the Main Diesel Engines and we amble along our way. Total time maybe 90 minutes…if that
long; felt like a month and a half.
I went down below to talk to Mike…where was he you ask? With a bag of popcorn, fresh pot of
coffee, and Braveheart paused waiting for me. Before I could ask anything he said:
“Never happened”.
“What?”
“Never happened.”
“You mean tonight?”
“What about tonight?”
“So, I never happened?”
“What didn’t happen?”
And that was The Night that Never Happened aboard GRAND
ISLE.
