Page four - Fox and Quill, vol 2, issue 8, October 2007


 

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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