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The Dragon with Two Lives - John
Wolf
Two castaway fugitives,
Warm ocean floors,
The dragon twice lives.
- John Wolf
“Where do you have us now, Barney?” the Captain said, leaning over the navigation table
of the Tatsu Maru. A yellowish hue from the overhead lamp was washing across the chart,
thick with island dots, atolls, and out-cropped reefs. There was a course-line penciled
in that ran through the blotches in a zigzag pattern.
“GPS has us here,” Barney said, while pointing to a chart with a long pair of dividers.
“I took a celestial shot while you were looking in on the engine room. It compares favorably.
It never fails, when you are in tricky waters, your nav-aides start flaking out. The GPS
receiver is intermittent.”
“Just keep on it, Barney,” Captain Whalen said, with confidence in his voice, while disengaging
the wheel lock to feel the rudder in his hands again. He wanted nothing but calm tonight.
It was his decision to cut through the island chains north of the New Hebrides on the east
side of the Coral Sea. Captain John Whalen had a deadline to meet. He planned to pass through
the Vanuatu Island chain as a short cut to reach Fiji before his cargo got sick. The hold was
full of goats and pigs.
“Okay, bear left fifteen degrees – now.” Captain Whalen spun the wheel through his fingers
and stopped with the compass swaying back and forth, settling down on a heading of 075.
Barney could concentrate on the course now that the Captain was back at the helm. The Captain
had to check on an engine hiccup just as the Tatsu Maru started to enter the channels.
“What was the engine problem?” Barney asked.
“Fuel filter was clogged on number two,” Whalen responded.
“I had to switch in the spare. Remind me when we get back into open seas to have Jake dispose
of the old one.”
The crew of five included two load-tenders and Jake. Jake usually worked the engine room, but
for this trip he was the cargo supervisor. They had been tending to the needs of the livestock
they brought onboard in New Guinea. There was news of hoof-and-mouth disease in the villages
west of Port Moresby. Captain Whalen wasn’t going to hang around and have his cargo go bad.
The port authorities felt there was little threat. Nevertheless, it was prudent to make Fiji
and get paid, before anything showed up in the animal’s blood tests. The seas were very quiet,
and it was a moonlit night with clear skies, otherwise it would have been foolish to attempt
skipping through these ship nets. These specks of land were famous for grounding ships. There
were rusted-out hulks scattered through out the Vanuatu chain. A younger John Whalen had much
experience with his life long friend Barney Stokes in zooming high-speed, low-draft, surface
crafts through these atolls. They felt tonight was going to be easy. Confidence was building,
since they were more than halfway through.
“Okay, now take her to one-three-zero for the next ten minutes or so, and then back to one-one-seven.
That should be the last wiggle.”
“I just saw the Baxter Reef slip by. Bull Head Rock is still there looking for a hull to break,”
Whalen said, casting an eye out the open window. “You cut that one a little close, Barney.”
“Hey, it’s your job to compensate for currents. This is still a manual steer.” Barney was tapping
the chart with the dividers and thinking to himself – we’re going to make it. He came up beside
his old friend and they both grinned, while looking out the front window onto a beautiful pristine
night. The moon was high and the ocean was patchy with light to dark shades of blue to black as the
sand bars, reefs, and kelp fields slipped past the ship.
As the ship moved into deeper waters, a grumbling took place far below. A new fissure was beginning
to crack open in the seabed. Hot steaming water surged up into cold Pacific currents. The ocean floor
elbowed great quantities of sand out of the way as the New Hebrides Trench stretched for more room.
A swell of compressed water was moving swiftly toward the surface with head strong determination to
create a Tsunami. Smiles dropped as John and Barney saw a huge swell form in front of them, off to
the starboard side. The sea was dropping as a wave was forming.
“This ain’t right!” John said as he tried to wheel the boat into the wave front. Barney grabbed
for the side railing to keep his balance. The boat started to rise and list to port. It was too
late to head into the wave front. Now they could only hope not to roll over on the port side.
Barney could hear the animals bellowing after being slammed into the side of the hold.
“Jesus, the hold covers are up!” Barney screamed, while sliding across the floor on his rear end to reach
the jackscrew motor switch on the other side of the bridge and close the hatches. The covers were
up to let in fresh air. There was no anticipation of waves coming in over the sides. There was no
time to sound the alarm until these critical openings in the hull were sealed.
John had his arms around the binnacle to stand in place and keep control of the ship. Then the ship
began to sink into a long deep trench of water to starboard. The swell had dissipated all of its
energy into this huge wave that broke right over the ship. Thousands of tons of water fell on the
Tatsu Maru at once, engulfing the entire ship. The jackscrews were in motion, but the pressurized
water filled the center hull while the screws continued to drop the hatches in place, sealing tons
of ocean water and swirling animals clamoring to find footing. The ship rolled gentle until its keel
faced upward. John and Barney were swept through the bridge doorway into the sea. As John lost his
grip on the wheel housing, his hands caught the throttles and both engines came to a stop.
John and Barney found themselves in a series of swells, catching glimpses of the bottom of the ship
as they rose and fell.
“Barney, where are you?” John yelled out.
“I’m here behind you,” Barney replied. The two swam together. There was a lot
of debris floating in the area.
“Look, to the right. I think it is one of the life rafts,” John said, while swimming feverishly toward
the ten foot long raft. It was constructed of two cylinders about three feet in diameter that were pointed
in the back with a wooden transom between them. The cylinders of foam-filled synthetic rubber came together
at the other end in a pointed bow. The raft was upside down in the water. The floor of the raft had two
pieces of heavily varnish plywood bolted together in several places that sandwiched the heavy rubber bottom
that was integral to the cylindrical sides. The wood gave the floor stability. It looked like a crude
oversized Zodiac dingy.
John grabbed a side rope that ran around the sides of the life raft and pulled a foot up onto a
tie point for the rope. He found another line coming across the floor of the raft and used the
two points to pull himself onto the raft. He threw the line to Barney and soon both were laying
belly down on the overturned raft, gripping the sides to stay on.
The waves soon settle back to nearly a flat sea and John sat up to look
for the ship. It was gone. So much water entered the ship at once; the
sixty-five foot hull filled in less than a minute. The excessive ballast
of the water took the Tatsu Maru down, where it landed on its top deck, facing
into the sandy bottom. The structure above the deck was jammed into the
sand. It looked like a large red turtle had settled into the murky silt and
sand in two hundred feet of water. The New Hebrides Trench was many miles away,
but it had ripped a seam in the ocean floor just beneath the Tatsu Maru.
The open seam spewed hot water into the internal vents and open piping of the
vessel. All life onboard was rapidly coming to and end. The hot water carried
a variety of bacteria and chemicals that soon over came the animals in the
hold and the three remaining crewmen trapped in their quarters.
* * *
John and Barney looked at each other dumbfounded. They knew what they had to do. They set out to right
the life raft before their energy gave out. One more round of climbing up over the side. They spent
the next hour bailing out the water and searching the debris area for something of use. Barney saw
his chart floating about a foot below the surface, drifting by like it was still on course. John hauled
aboard a metal container. He had no idea where on the ship it had come from. It had a threaded lid and
was squared off on the sides. It looked like it would hold about two gallons of liquid. They pulled in
about twenty feet of three-quarter inch line and that was it. Not much was left from the ship, since
it had gone down so fast.
“I hate the ocean,” Barney said. “It’s like my ex-wife. Just when you get to trust her, she dumps you.
What the hell happened back there?”
“Man, I don’t know,” John replied. “You hear about killer waves, but I always
thought they happened in the deep water of the north Atlantic."
Barney was looking up at the moon. “I think we are drifting back toward the atolls.” They were
starting to gets their bearings and thoughts now began to focus on survival.
John looked toward the back of the raft. “Hey, Barney the motor is still with us!”
They both stumbled to the back and reached for the outboard motor bolted to the wooden transom
that was cranked around sideways. Barney frantically searched over the side for the fuel tank.
“Here it is. It’s attached by the fuel line.” Barney carefully pulled the tank into reach. He
got it over the side. “Damn, it’s half full of water.”
“That means it’s half full of fuel,” John said. They detached the fuel line
and used it as a siphon to get as much water out of the tank as they could
and then hooked the tube back to the motor. John was blowing water out of
the motor housing around the spark plug and popped the plastic cover off the
carburetor that kept moisture out of the engine. “Keep you figures crossed,” John
said as he stood and pulled the starter cord. There was an immediate burst
of power and then several sputters as water and gas was pulled through the
engine, but the motor was running. John engaged the prop and held onto the
steering handle like he was on a Sunday outing. “Which way, Barney?”
“Let’s go a little more port. If we’re lucky we will make some kind of landfall before the gas runs
out,” Barney replied. They peered into the night, riding calm seas, trying not to think about the
disaster as the moon was slowly consumed by the sea and everything went black. Once it was dark,
they couldn’t help but wonder about Jake and the add-on crewmembers. What could have happened to
them? Did they get out somehow? There was a second life raft. Maybe they got to it. In the back
of their minds they knew the ship had gone down too fast for anyone else or the livestock to be
alive. It’s not a pleasant swim from two-hundred feet down.
* * *
Barney awoke first with a new sun glowing behind them. That was the best news this sailor could
have asked for, considering the situation. There were clouds up ahead. That also would be useful
in another hour. John was asleep, draped over the steering handle, with his back leaned against
the transom. His instincts keep the tiller centered and the stream of foam and bubbles from the
prop trailed off in a straight line behind them. It was comforting to know they hadn’t gone in
a circle during the night.
In the light of day Barney saw that the survival kit was still strapped
to the inside on the starboard side. He went over the contents in his head.
He didn’t want to open it until it was
needed to avoid losing it over the side. It would have some water. I’ll wait
until John wakes up. Dolphins squealing and making a general nuisance of themselves,
woke John. He stirred with a gruff gasp for air, and then his eyes focused
on Barney looking at him. “Don’t look at me as
if I was your next meal,” John said.

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“God, I wouldn’t eat anything that ugly.” Barney
said. “You
are more important than you know. I don’t know how you did it, but you
steered a straight course all night.”
John looked around to assess the
sea. It was still flat out to the total horizon. “As beautiful as it
is, we are dead men once the sun gets over us.” Barney pointed to the
survival kit. “Damn, how did that get
here?”
“Luckily,
it never left,” Barney answered.
“Break
it open. We’ll have breakfast. Do you take salt pills on your eggs?”
The two men sat in the bottom of the boat totally oblivious to their surroundings
while they savored a can of water and a chocolate bar. “You know if Jake
knew this chocolate was in here, it wouldn’t be.” John said.
“Yeah, I hope he found a way out. Maybe he’s hailed down a chopper
by now.”
John’s response was not reassuring, “You know no one is going to
look for us, considering the route we took, and we didn’t have time
to send out a ‘May-day.’ Assuming the shipping company cares, which
I doubt, it could be weeks before they even look. They would find nothing
and that would be the end. We have to get back on our own, I’m afraid.”
Barney looked forward over his shoulder across the edge of the raft behind him
and saw what he was waiting for. “Hey John, see that cloud over there with
the yellow bottom?”
“The one about forty degrees port?”
“Yep. Head right for it.”
Barney was the best navigator John had ever known, so he automatically turned
the boat toward the cloud. Barney continued, “The light from land is reflected
off the bottom of these low cumulus clouds. Notice the others don’t have
that.”
John didn’t say anything. They both just sat there another hour conserving
their energy while the cloud got bigger.
Barney stood up on one knee, “I see a reef. The waves are breaking off
her.”
“Well, it’s about time. I was beginning to doubt if I had the right
navigator with me.”
Barney laughed while tears streamed from the corner of one eye. He kept his eyes
on the sighting.
“Well, just don’t run into the reef. Let’s go starboard along
side it and see if we can find a cove.”
The motor gave a cough that startled both of them.
“Can you tell which way the current is running?” one of them said.
“I can’t tell. From the breakers, I’d guess from starboard – from
the northeast.”
“I think so. Look I would rather crawl across the reef than drift away
from a landing.”
“You’re right.”
John turned the craft back toward the reef – another sputter.
“Hey, I can feel a surge. We’re gonna go into the reef, motor or
no motor.”
“Barney, look to port about thirty degrees. Do you see it?”
“Okay, let's go for it.” The reef had a gap in the breakers. It
looked like an inlet or maybe a channel toward the center of the atoll.
They crossed the mouth of the channel as the motor took in water and made
a nasty twang as the piston arm snapped trying to digest steam. They
bumped along the lumpy slim covered rocks with an occasional surge lifting
them up. They had enough forward speed to make it over the initial shoreline
wave. It was a matter of time before they could step off onto the atoll.
It had trees!
They said nothing until Barney leaped up and over the side, taking the raft’s
lanyard with him. John was on one knee straining to see a good landing spot.
It was a clean beach –
no problem.
They both were on the beach, pulling the raft up to the tree line – coconut
palms everywhere. They plopped down in the shade and gave each other a shit-eating
grin. It was all they could do to pop a high-five. Sunburn was creeping up on
them. John pulled the survival kit out of the raft and they drank the last two
cans of water. They lay back on the sand and slept. Barney still had the lanyard
wrapped twice around his hand.
* * *
Two weeks later, down under two hundred feet of water, grumbling sounds were
coming from the Tatsu Maru. The decaying animals and warm water pushing through
the ships innards caused a vast quantity of gas to be formed. An Angel fish nearly
two feet tall, sailed by quickly, feeling endangered. Other fish heard the noises
and were moving around looking for the predator that was not there. Sharks felt
compelled to at least put in a circle around the hull to make sense of the strange
sounds. Something was oozing from under the edge of the ship in several areas.
There was a shift in the sand as the hull started to roll a little to one side.
Clouds of silt swirled in the water and the curious fish fled swiftly into the
distance.
* * *
John was pulling on the end of a beard that was starting to take shape. “We’ve
eaten everything that was eatable on this pile of sand and the reef fishing is
dismal. Maybe we should work the reef on the windward side.”
Barney was putting the finishing touches on a set of oars he had made from driftwood.
He had hewn out the paddle scoops with the sharp edge of a shell. “We have
one quiet inlet that the current doesn’t rip through. Maybe we can use
the oars to maneuver around in it.”
“We will expel all our energy just trying to keep the current from taking
us out to sea.”
“We’ll be careful. You want to risk your coconut fiber fishing line?”
“We might as well try it. If it breaks, it breaks. I figure if we don’t
get a fish to day, we won’t last another week. The coconuts are all too
green now.”
“Did you look in the well this morning?”
“Yeah, the can is got about an inch of water in it. Let’s drink that
and do the fishing bit.”
The two sailors got the raft to the inlet and past the sharp edges of
the coral. They pushed off across the turquoise colored lagoon, hoping
that some form of sea life came into the shallows the night before. They
were both hanging over the side, staring into the pool when a huge dark
shadow came over them. John spun around; feeling the presence of something
supernatural was nearby. He looked up to see the bow of an iron ship
rising fifteen feet in the air. He fell back in the raft with his mouth wide
open. Barney turned to see what the fuss was about. His nerves were getting
thin. He was going to give John a piece of his mind. They both stood
up in the uneasy craft. On the bow was written the words Tatsu Maru incrusted
with grit and slime. The railing was shredded and the sides were scarred
and scratched, but there it was trying to run them over as it wedged
its way into the inlet on the current.
“Oh my God,” John said, with tears running down his cheeks. “How
could it be?”
The ship stopped bobbing up and down and stuck on the sandy bottom. The
two men scrambled for the oars and paddled over close enough to reach
for the side ladder. They climbed up onto the deck –
or what was left of it. The bridge house was full of sand, but the controls
were still there. The roof was bent and all the rigging was gone. Barney
popped a hatch over a stairwell and a gross hiss of disgusting air blasted
out. All the water except for a few cavities had been pushed out by the
gases formed by the decaying animals. Once buoyancy was reached, the
ship surfaced and caught the current westward.
Barney disappeared into the ship and felt around for the engine room.
The door was sealed. He yanked on the lock and pulled the door open – clean
as a whistle. Two of the large batteries had come out of their rack and
were hanging from their wires. Barney straightened them up, put the gears
in neutral, and pushed the start button. There was the smell of diesel
in the room, but it wasn’t
too strong. Both engines started.
John felt the vibration and jumped out of the way as a blob of seaweed and mud
blew out of what remained of the diesel stacks. John reached for the wheel that
was bent at an angle, but still felt like it was attached to the rudder. John
turned to the comm-tube that went to the engine room and said, “Hey Barney,
can you hear me?”
“Barely. Let me get a rag and a stick and I’ll clean out the tube.”
“Just put the screws in reverse and see if we can get off the reef first.”
“You got it.”
John was thinking, “What could be broken. I better not try anything electrical.
Just stick to the engines and rudder.” He moved over to the breaker panel
and realized it was gone. He came back to the comm-tube. “Hey Barney, pull
the breakers at the generators. We don’t want to blow a hole in this tub.”
“I already got that. Try the throttles.”
John pushed the throttle handles and they broke off in his hands. “Shit.”
“What did you say?”
“Never mind. Can you run the throttles from down there?”
“Yeah. By the way, I see your rudder cable. You only have one side. I have
a wrench on the bell-crank. You tell me which way to turn it.”
“Okay. Let’s move this thing.”
The battered ship shuttered under the stress and started easing back. The rudder
led the aft to port, but not enough to have Barney change directions. Once clear
of the reef, John started barking directions. The Tatsu Maru struggled across
the sea. The fuel tank float-valves had saved the fuel. Barney found the GPS
receiver and connected a wire directly to it from the generator.
The two sailors made it to Fiji almost six weeks late, but they were alive. The
ship’s company was more upset about losing the cargo than the ship. The
ship was insured. They buried Jake and the others in Fiji and decided to retire
there. Their days of risky sailing were over. John was twisting a beer between
his hands at the Palms bar and grill afterwards, thinking back on the adventure, “The
dragon with two lives.”
“What’d you say?” Barney asked.
“The ship – Tatsu means dragon in Japanese – the dragon with
two lives.” John tipped his beer back and drained it.

Author John Wolf - oceans always scare me.
Thanks F&Q readers for being there... J. Wolf
© 2007 John Wolf, all rights reserved

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