Codes of Survival -Scripts - a series of short factionalized stories based
on historical events in the Subantarctic Islands written by Lloyd Godman
to accompany the exhibition and installation - 1993 - © Lloyd Godman
Codes of
Survival - Scripts
turn sound on for effect while you are reading - click soundscape which will open a new browser page and then return to original page
1991 - SEA STORM
I have been through some rough times at sea. Not rough in
the sense that the word could suggest fights and wild times
or just plain rough work, but rough in terms of the worst
weather one could ever imagine. But you can expect that
from the ocean if you have been about it for some time
and its actually a fun part of the whole life style. For
twenty five years now Iv'e seen all kinds of storms in
every ocean of the world and few, in fact none, have put
me down. Even this last one in the South Tasman Sea , it
was about as bad as any I can remember and still it didn't
have me worried to any real degree.
It was a hell of a storm as far as they go, with force ten
winds, gales of whipping spray that streaked across the
surface in a fine salt mist, obliterating the bow of the
ship from the wide view out from the bridge. On a
clear day the view is spectacular, right down the length
of the ship, across the tops of the containers and far
off to the ocean in the distance.
This storm, had 22,000 tonnes of ship rolling from 40
degrees starboard to 40 degrees port with the constant
heaving pitch of the immense swells that hammered at the
ship. I had absolute trust in the ship and our ability to
come through it. The technology and standard of ship
building these days is so good that there really is no risk in
the hands of a qualified captain and a good crew. The
computer guided navigation systems and computer
loading and weighting systems means there is few
problems with these aspects of the ship too. With this storm, there was though, a hell of a furore of
crashing and banging all the way across the sea, and even
during the slightly quieter voyage up the south east coast
of New Zealand there was still a certain amount of
crashing about. Every time a great wall of water struck
the ship there was a shudder and the banging of metal that
could be heard above the sound of the storm itself and
continued until the next wave hit and it started over again.
It didn't take too long to detect the source of all this
commotion, and it turned out to be some large rolls of
sheet steel. We deduced that these had been poorly
secured at Melbourne and once they had broke free
inside the containers, they began bashing about
uncontrolled in the chaotic rolling
motion of the ship.
Backwards and forwards, from side to side, any way they
pleased, the 10 tonne rolls made a hell of a mess rolling
about. There must have been some real force as they
hit the container walls. Most of these heavy rolls smashed straight out the side
of the containers and into the ocean, leaving gapping
jaggered holes in the steel walls as evidence of the
brashness of their hurried exit. We never saw one of them
go out the viability was that poor. The side of the ship, the Columbus Australia had dints and gouges where they
had caught bits on the way out and down to the ocean.
Then there was the ones that never made it all the way
to the water and
just kept rolling around the deck until they became lodged
in some tight nook or cranny and could go no further.
There were about fifteen to twenty containers that the rolls
burst out off, god knows the value of that lot, but there is
a fair bit of damage to the deck and support structure
of the ship that will take some repair.
When the storm was at its full height, it was a matter of
surviving and grabbing hold of something very solid, secure,
then holding on for grim death. If you iscalculated the
flying furniture was evidence of ones fate. The tables
and chairs were rolling about all over the place and most of
the time there wasn't a hell of a lot we could do about it but
let them go. If a person hit the walls or deck with the same
force, it would be broken bone time for sure.
Luckily I thought of my computer early and managed to save
that as the storm was just beginning to build and hit the ship.
It was just beginning to slide about, but had not quite toppled
off the desk onto the floor yet by the time I got there. I
searched for a quick certain way to protect it and in
desperation grabbed a thick blanket off the bed, wrapped it
up in it and stowed it in the safety of my locker. It was well
jammed in here and lay nestled in the tight space for the
rest of the trip. It still works fine so I was glad I got
there before things got too bad.
All the rest of the crew were fine, although there was
probably a few who were a bit more shaken inside than they would care to admit. We had a German tourist working her passage between Australia and New Zealand though and she was really shaken. Looked as white as a sheet.
She was absolutely convinced we were going to sink.
Poor girl, I can't blame her, for when we were way down in the troughs it must have seemed as though there was only
mountains of waves on all sides and we were half way
down to the bottom already. She struggled up onto the
bridge at six in the morning and all she could see was
waves crashing in all directions and the spray whistling
across the air so that it cut the visibility down to about
thirty feet.
The steel was on the way to Philadelphia out of the port of Melbourne. I can only suppose that those heavy rolls of
steel are well gone to the bottom, I can't imagine that there
could be any way they could float. At least there had
been no containers lost over the side. They can make treacherous ocean hazards, especially for small ships and yachts.
He was right, they had gone straight down to the ocean floor.
But the steel rolls had been strapped down to wooden pallets,
and as the storm hit the metal strapping had slowly loosened
and then sheered in a snap and this is what had allowed the
rolls to smash about. Some had taken the pallets still attached
out with them and these had sunk too. But some other pallets
had been totally free and as they crashed out of the jaggered
gapping holes in the containers to the water below, they floated
off on the resolute tides to where they pleased. This floating dunnage still held the remnants of the steel strapping attached
to the pallets and had scars of wood chipped away where
they had earlier been hit by the rolls.
Right in the middle of the ocean we found a bloody wooden
pallet floating. Half way down the southern ocean, here was
this dam thing floating about. It was with luck that we saw it at
all, for it was floating just in no more and awash with water.
If we hadn't passed within a few feet of it I am sure we would
never have seen it. God it makes me made the crap some
morons throw into the ocean, the bastards will never learn.
For one thing they have no respect for the ocean and just see
it as some endless junk pile where everything disappears out of sight, and for the other, what a bloody hazard. If a charter
boat as ours hit the thing at full speed in the night I;d hate to
imagine the fright it might cause and perhaps even some
damage, and as for a small yacht it could rip the hull clean to
bits. It would be a hell of an experience in these cold waters.
Well we circled around for a while before we could get a
hook and line attacked to it and then we were able to fish
the sad looking thing out of the water. It weighed quite a ton
and as we began to haul it up the boat lurched over a little and
so we ended up dragging it round to the stern and pulled it
up in a series of motions there. Even though the ocean was
quite calm we strapped it securely on board, and proceeded on
our way through the southern ocean. Other than this it was an uneventful voyage compared to some of the previous trips
where we have encountered storms, with extremes of wind,
wave and rain.
Once down at the Auckland Islands, we decided to land at
Enderby and leave the pallet there beside the hut.
It would have been the right thing to take it with us all the
way to the Falklands and South Georgia, but it would have
been right in the way. At least it was no danger to small
shipping now and we could feel relieved about that. We left a
note at the hut for the DOC people to let them know how it
had got there. They are often down here with the Navy
and they can probably arrange to have it taken back on that sometime. By the time we did have it ashore the rusty steel strapping band had come right off the timbers and we left
that along side the hut also. But the winds in these islands are extreme and over a period of extreme gales, the strapping eventually blew out from the
shelter of the hut and unravelled like a large spring, which made it even more sail like and able to blow off in an uncanny snaking,
whip like manner springing across the ground with a twang
and ping in spastic convulsions every time the strongest
winds hit it. Eventually it sprung up into the bush and finally
came to rest under a pile of fern fronds at the bottom
of a stream.
|
