F/V RUTH AND CARL - On a Dark Stormy Night...again

Ruth and Carl

It was a dark and stormy night…again, somewhere in the North Atlantic…again.

OK, these are my stories…I like the way that sounds so either skip this or stop rolling your eyes…

GRAND ISLE was the B-6 (Bravo 6), North Response boat for the week in D1 (First Coast Guard District, basically New England).  We would be the first boat out for a search and rescue case, emergent law enforcement situation, whatever may happen.  If GRAND ISLE was inport we had six hours to get the boat underway.

A quick primer on status.  Alpha status—underway, making way; what all sailors want!  B-0 was highest inport alert—something was going down or the approach of a major storm – you were all on board, engines warned up and ready to go.  B-2 or B-6 was the aforementioned alert status.  B-12, second boat out, 12 hours to get going…good status for the Law Enforcement boat.)  B-24, normal inport, can do most maintenance and good time for the crew to take leave.  Charlie or C, planned maintenance cutter is down hard.  Cutters get a set amount of Charlie time every year…godsend for crews—they need downtime as much as machines do.  Delta or D…Drydock…you are literally out of the water.

It was Thursday early morning; GRAND ISLE was on patrol and getting flayed – walking along the bulkheads seemed only moments away.  The XO and I discussed GRAND ISLE’s ability to prosecute any mission – no chance; and the crew was drag ass tired from the constant beating.  Imagine living on a roller coaster…you may get close to life on a patrol boat.

I called the District and told them we were coming back to Gloucester for the next couple of days and would get underway later in the week.  This was a pretty common strategy when the weather deteriorated.  GI’s homeport was located just about the middle of the North Response area.  Even in a B-6 status we could on scene for most SAR cases quicker than other cutters. Gloucester Harbor was protected by a stone sea wall and it orientation protected from just about any kind of weather.  Easy to navigate, well marked, and outstanding location—Gloucester was a working harbor in the 1600s before the Pilgrims settled Plymouth.

We moored in the mid afternoon and got the boat ready for a quick deployment in case anything went down…fuel, food, water.  XO granted liberty around 1500 and the crew went home.  The next day we would evaluate the weather situation and maybe get back underway. 

I am such an idiot.

I climbed down into my 1986 Toyota Celica…used, 100K+ miles on the odometer, the tape deck moved about wherever it felt like. It still had a little pick up and most importantly it was front wheel drive.  Helpful in New England when you get recalled in the middle of the night in a snow storm.

Except today I got recalled in the afternoon; with no snow, or rain, yet.

I walked in the house we rented and about 37 seconds later the phone rang.  That was not a god sign.

“Hello?”

“Captain, it QM3 on the boat.”

Shit

“Go ahead Wheels, what’s the situation.”

Turns out, a fishing vessel about 75 miles east of the Merrimack River entrance was disabled but not adrift—unusual.  They lost their propulsion due to an unknown cause but they were able to deploy their anchor.  I told QM3 to recall the crew—that was a formality, D1 was directing us to get underway.  I hung up with QM3 and called the District Command Center to get a run down on any additional information they had.

The phone only rang once.

“First Coast District Command Center.”  Very official

“This is Lieutenant Dow, CO GRAND ISLE…what can you tell me about the case?”

They had about the same information with some changes. 

“Lobster boat Ruth and Carl out of Portsmouth blew the mains and no propulsion.  Five POB (people on board), weather is closing in.  On scene 15-20 knots 3 foot seas.” That wasn’t too bad, we could drop the hammers and be there in no time. “And NORTHLAND is on scene standing by.”

Ah, what????  NORTHLAND was CTU right now they had the cutters working for them when we were underway; a 270’ medium endurance cutter out of Virginia.  I knew the CO, great guy and a real sailor.  I must have not heard correctly that they were on scene standing by.

“Where did you say NORHTLAND was again?”

“They are on scene standing by to assist.”

We were not quite at Who’s on First but, I wanted to go with a little snark and tell them if they were ready they could assist the disabled boat with five people onboard.

“OK, what does NORHTLAND need us for?”

GI was a 110 foot patrol boat about 80 miles away.

“They are not able to make an approach and requested a patrol boat to take RUTH AND CARL in tow.”

OK…I was rolling with it.

“Roger that.  We will be underway in less tan two hours.  We’ll call the Group VHF when we clear the sea buoy and we have an ETA.”

“Thanks, Captain.”

And with that, I hung up.  I took about 10 minutes to repack my bag with fresh clothes and was out the door without ever taking off my coat.  It was about a 20 minute drive to work and by the time I got in about half the crew was aboard.  I wasn’t expecting any issues with getting out in another hour. 

I unpacked my bag and changed back into the uniform I hung up just a couple of hours ago.  I grabbed a mug of coffee and made my way to the bridge.  The XO was already up there talking to the QM1 and laying out a course. 

“Captain on the bridge.”

I returned their salutes and wondered over to the 1MC and requested the Chief and BM1 join us.

I gave my leadership team the rundown from the district and then tried to slip in:

“And NORTHLAND is on scene, standing by.”

Silence.  Crickets.  This was bad.

“Come again, sir?”

“Yeah, D1 said they were in the vicinity and would standby until we got there.”

It was a hard sell.

In all fairness to NORTHLAND, 110s were much more maneuverable and I bet we had five or six times more towing experience than they did.  270s were a tough ship to drive with an enormous superstructure, sail area.  So I really shouldn’t giving the shit I am in this here little story…but its more fun.  CDR Egli, if you or any of your crew ever read this…sorry sir.

We got the boat underway and away from the pier.  We called the Group to pass along our ETA.  With the weather like it was, not bad at all, we were up to 20 knots and skipping over the tops of the waves.  Four, four and a half hours and we would be there.

I am such an idiot.

Another quick primer:  The wind was coming out of the north-northeast, GRAND ISLE was in the lee of Cape Ann.  We were protected from the winds by a significant land mass.  As we made our way around the Cape the winds picked up a bit…18 knots, 22 knots, 25 knots, 30 knots and then Gale Force (33+).  Wow…that escalated quickly.

When the boat came of the water and slammed down off the face of a good 10 footer we slowed down to clutch ahead reducing our speed in half.  It was going to take a bit longer to get to RUTH AND CARL than we initially estimated.  XO updated NORTHLAND and we held on for dear life and we made out way out there.

Then the rain started.  Did I mention it was bout 31, 32 degree out? Freezing rain started to come down in gale force winds…at night.  This was turning into a case for the books…or at least a short story.

As we approached we could see the 270 on radar more than 10 miles out—big return on those cutters.  We called them VHF unsecured and let them know they could stand down from standing by and resume their patrol.  They kindly informed us that they would maintain station in case we needed any help.

Yeah, like take the distressed vessel in tow so they could have gotten back to port sooner…like that kind of help?  They were a little over two miles away form RUTH AND CARL.  A few minutes later they kindly informed us they would use their spotlight to assist.  OK, yeah, thanks and could you take a look at those TPS reports while your at it?

We had bigger issues to worry about.  Setting up a tow is usually done with two ships drifting at the same time.  RUTH AND CARL was stationary causing us some issues, but worse they had a anchor line out at the same time.  When we got close there was every chance that their tow line could get caught in our screws and we would be disabled and adrift.  But lucky for us NORTHLAND was standing by.

The wind was coming in hard and RUTH AND CARL was head up…we had to coming in on a 45 degree approach without coming down on the boat or the anchor line.  My XO, Rob Halsey, was at the Conn, he was a superb ship driver.  We knew we wanted to make a long run before to the tow to give Rob and idea of how the ship was going to handle. 

We started from 2000 yards off their starboard quarter. We were going into the wind so Rob had to clutch in and out with the engines to have any kind of control on the speed.  We were going into the wind.  Remember, 33 knots, freezing rain good times.  I held my hand over my eyes to look between my fingers…I couldn’t keep my eyes open in these conditions.  Rob wore glasses.  About 8.4 seconds into the approach, XO needed lens wipe, a lot of lens wipe.  Boxes of lens wipe.  By the end of this case the flying bridge was papered in this white paper clinging to every surface.

Rob was working the mains and the helm to get us alongside.  We came up into the wind because RUTH AND CARL was anchored and there was no drift.  The deck department was on the fantail with two heaving lines ready to go.  They were attached to a lead and that was attached to our towline.  We had to get close enough for the crew to throw a line over but not close enough to crush the nice ship we were trying to rescue. 

“HEAVE WHEN ABLE”

XO’s command to the deckies gave them control on when they throw the heaving lines.  A heaving line is  a small line with a monkey’s fist at one end…a heavy knot the gives the line heft.  A good deckie could get the line out taught.  We had some great deckies.

I could here the BM1 tell our first thrower to make his attempts.  It went out, a little high and got caught in the wind and stopped short of the distressed boat.  The second line flung out right then and also hit a gust of wind and failed to get across. XO had to gun the mains because we were close to RUTH AND CARL and circled around to make a second attempt. 

Same set up but Rob was going to try to get closer…I was not on high blood pressure medication at that point in my life but probably should have been.  On our way around the MKC and BM1 came to the bridge.  They knew what the challenge was…the weather was causing all sorts of problems with this case.

“CAP” BM1 had to screen to be heard above the screech. “HOW ABOUT THE LINE THROWING GUN?”

It was the right question…it was more dangerous and some issues itself. 

“BOATS, GET IT OUT OF THE ARMORY AND HAVE GUNS GET IT READY ON THE MESSDECK. I WANT TO GIVE IT ONE MORE PASS.”

“AYE, SIR.  HOW ABOUT PAUL?”

Paul was out MK2 and routinely won the line-throwing contest.

“CAP, ITS A GOOD IDEA.”  The Chief would have made the suggestion if BM1 had not.

“ROGER THAT.”

They both laid below and we started out second run.  We had to bull’s-eye a womp rat in Beggars Canyon, a target not much bigger than 2 meters.

The second approach, the same as the first.  We circled around again.  BM1 got the gun ready and we were set to make our third approach.  We let the RUTH AND CARL know what were going to attempt.  One more heave and then the gun on this pass.  The weather had worsened and it was getting more dangerous for the crew and for the RUTH AND CARL. 

XO, clutching in and out with the mains, was wiping his glasses as fast as he could.  GRAND ISLE was coming into the wind and ice with the crew on deck ready for a final pass.  It was getting more precarious each pass with the stationary ship and the anchor line leading forward.  We could t-bone the disabled boat or wrap our screws in anchor line, at night.  At least NORTHLAND was using their spotlight from two miles away illuminating the ocean surface out 1.8 miles in front of them.

“Put over the tow line when able!”

The monkey’s fist hit a wall one more time and splashed into the waves. 

I radioed down “Stand by the gun.”

“Hold on Cap…one more chance?!?!”

“You have to do it—“

And right then Paul Baraso let go the best throw I had ever seen or ever would see.  It was a frozen rope, straight out and flew right over the deck.  The crew on RUTH AND CARL pulled the line over.  This was still a dangerous time for GRAND ISLE.  Rob had to coax the boat forward but not too fast with the line going over the side.  The only problem now was our screws facing the anchor line and our own tow line—the woods, we were still squarely in them.

The deckies did a great job paying out 900 foot of line while the XO kept the catenary with enough of a dip.  RUTH AND CARL had to cut their anchor but a small price to pay.  We kept radio comms with NORTHLAND and Group and set course for Portsmouth.  We would hand them off to the small boat station there before we set course for home.

The trip back ashore was made about 6 knots, clutch ahead on one main and we had to pay out to 1100 foot of towline. It was about 12 hours to get in range for the station to relieve us of the tow.  All told about a 24-hour mission until we make it back to Gloucester.

A couple of days later WILLOW sent out its after action report specifically calling out GRAND ISLE’s outstanding performance during the case.  Fred White called me later that month and said he could here everything on the radio.  He said he was proud to have trained me.  It was one of the greatest, if not the greatest complements I have ever received.