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Thread: From The Delta Mud."

  1. #11
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    Neither said anything more for a few minutes. John finally broke the silence. "Do you think he turned in?"

    "Why don't you check his cabin?" said Bob. It wasn't really a request. It was unlikely that the captain had stepped out on deck and fallen overboard, but on a tow boat you didn't take safety for granted. If someone wasn't where you expected them to be, you took the time to find them. John set the mug of coffee on the oversized arm of the bench at the back of the wheelhouse and took the stairs. He pressed his ear against the captain's door listening. He was prepared to take a peek if he had to, but the captain was known to snore. With a little luck John would be able to confirm the captain's presence with out violating his privacy. He listened for several minutes, trying to decide if the indeterminate sounds were proof of the captain’s whereabouts. He was about to give up and rap on the door when he finally got a satisfying "snort."

    Relieved, he returned to the wheelhouse. “I guess he won’t be needing this, “he said to Bob as he took the mug of coffee to the port side door of the wheelhouse. He stepped out onto the deck and flung the contents of the cup out into the darkness. Back inside, he checked the Indiglo dial of his watch. It was now after one o’ clock. “You think I’d better get out on the tow?” he asked the pilot.

    Bob was a good pilot. One of his few weakness was an addiction to good coffee. At one o’ clock in the morning, sitting in a darkened wheelhouse, Bob really needed the kick the caffeine would give him. He had been smelling the aroma from the mug John left on the bench. Now the residual smell from the empty cup was almost overpowering. Bob could tell the tow was sloppy and needed attention. That was part of the reason he was so reluctant to let John go. He knew that once John got out on the tow, it would be hours before he got back. He might not get back at all before the watch was over. It was leading Bob to make the same bad decision for the second time that watch. "Go ahead and make a pot of coffee first." he told John. "A few more minutes won't make that much difference.

  2. #12
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    — — —
    While John was making the coffee, a mile upstream a party balloon was working it's way loose from the tree it had been hung in. A plastic float tied to the end of the string was intended to keep it from getting away. Lettering over the reflective red background declared wishes for a happy fifth birthday. It had blown off of a pontoon boat three days earlier when a gust of wind had blown it from the celebrant's chubby hand. The lady of the hour sucked in a deep breath, ready to give voice to a piercing expression of her grief when her tearing eyes fell on the brightly wrapped package in momma's hands. Birthday presents! The balloon was gone from her mind as though it had never been. The wail of distress turned into a shriek of delight. Dad would have chased down the float, but his attention was on the river ahead, and he was unaware of the escape. Mom, focused on removing packages from a plastic sack also failed to notice the departure.

    Lacking the buoyancy to lift the float from the water, the balloon skated across the surface eventually tangling in a tree at the water's edge. The water had continued to rise for the next three days to record levels. As water rose higher around the spindly trunk of the tree the balloon was hung in, the trunk began to bob up and down in the current. The oscillations had increased with the water level over the last three days until now it was shaking the balloon loose from its grip. The reflective sack slipped from the wet branches and was carried by the current out into the river. It had lost too much helium to get airborne, so it floated on the surface connected to the float by a three-foot segment of water logged ribbon. As the river curved away the balloon was carried further out into the river, headed down stream toward the McNeece. Just before it got close enough to be in sight of the tow boat, the ribbon snagged on a submerged tree. For just a second momentum carried it almost underwater, then it bobbed back to the surface. Its wet reflective sides were efficient reflectors in wavelengths from the optical range down into radio frequencies. Though it wasn't as tall as the navigation buoys marking the channel, it presented a similar radar cross section.

  3. #13
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    — — —
    Bob was watching the radar as the McNeece came around the bend. He was finally clearing the narrow part of the river and the boat was moving faster over the bottom. Suddenly a blip appeared on the scope. He was looking for a buoy called a Nun. These buoys mark the right side of the channel when headed upstream and were conical at the top. They were painted red, and the ones the coast guard used to mark the river channel also had a red reflector on top so that they could be seen at night.

    The blip on Bob's scope showed up a little sooner than he expected. Still, it was in a logical location. He could see another blip further up the river that must be the next Nun buoy. He was heading a little too far to port so he gently pulled the sticks to starboard. The boat turned more quickly than he expected as the sloppy tow bent back to port. Bob eased off the sticks a little taking a deep breath and letting the adrenaline decrease in his blood. He sure didn't want to bust up his tow by snapping a coupling. Not only does that not look good on a pilot's record, but with a deck-hand out on the tow, it could be deadly. As barges are ripped apart from each other, the half-inch steel cables that hold them together are pulled apart. The ends whip around at supersonic speed, and friction from the individual strands pulled against each other heat the metal past the melting point. Bob had seen tows break up at night. It looked like a fireworks display. He had seen granite boulders on a rock barge busted apart by flying cables. He didn't want to see what would happen to human flesh hit by something like that.

  4. #14
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    He flipped on the huge spot light and shined it on the tow at the forward coupling. He could see John looking back at him. Bob was about to switch the mike over to the PA and call John back when the deck hand dropped the ratchet handle and started back toward the boat. Apparently the deck hand also realized it was too dangerous out on the tow and was heading back. Bob flipped off the light and began easing the tow to back starboard.

    What Bob didn't realize was that John had dropped a glove. He had been unable to find it with his flash light, but when Bob illuminated the tow with the spotlight, John had seen where it had fallen, about half way back on the barge. John headed back toward the glove. Bob flipped the light off just as John reached it. He retrieved the glove and started back toward the front of the now darkened barge to resume tightening cables.

    Bob was growing more uneasy with the situation. He was putting as much pressure as he dared on the tow, trying to get it back in the channel. That buoy just didn't look right on the scope. It seemed to be heading him too far toward the east bank. He flipped on the spotlight and aimed it in the direction of the blip. At that distance, he couldn't see the surface of the water but right where the radar said it should be, was a red reflection. He raised the light, trying to see the next buoy, but it must have been too far away. He brought the light back to the spot he first checked. Again, there was the light being reflected from a red reflector.

  5. #15
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    He wasn't exactly satisfied, but he didn't really have much of an explanation, so he flipped the light off and returned his attention to getting the loose tow back on course. As soon as they got in the straights, he'd ease off on the throttle and have John get it tightened up. He'd get Stinky's lazy butt up to help too. Bob was concentrating so hard on navigating he didn't stop to wonder why John hadn't shown up in the wheelhouse.

    The picture on the scope was making less sense by the minute. As he continued to starboard, another blip appeared from behind the trees further up the river. He couldn't connect the dots he was seeing into a sensible channel. He flipped on the spotlight again. He could see the red reflection from the closest buoy. Raising the light, he again looked for the next marker. Out in the darkness, he caught a faint glimpse of green. It didn't make any sense at all. The next marker had to be red. The thought flashed through his mind that he was seeing a buoy further up the river, but even as the idea occurred to him he knew it wasn't right. He brought the light back to the closest buoy. Something wasn't right. The color was off. It was red, but not quite the red it should be.

    He suddenly felt hot and cold at the same time as acid poured into his stomach. What ever that was, it wasn't a buoy. Ignoring the bogus contact, the radar image suddenly made perfect sense. He was almost sideways in the channel heading for the east bank at full throttle. Just as his mind grasped the horrible truth, he felt the faint sigh of sand lightly kissing the bottom of the tow boat.

    His reaction was as reflexive and mindless as it was wrong. He shoved the sticks hard to port thinking only that the channel was in that direction. Even a well made tow would have had a hard time holding together under such a load. The sloppy mess the McNeece was pushing never had a chance.


    Bob watched with stunned fascination as fire danced at the couplings and barges went their separate ways. He became aware of the boats whistle blasting four short bursts in the emergency signal. He was surprised to find his hand on the cord. His mind was racing, trying to figure out where to send the people who would soon be showing up in the wheelhouse.

  6. #16
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    — — —
    
John felt the tow move under his feet in an unexpected jerk. Suddenly he felt a low moan raising from the deck. The moan rose to a shriek until there was a sudden bang as the parting cable ends broke the sound barrier. He saw a fiery orange flash that seemed to pass right through him as he felt a thump. He seemed to be off balance and tumbling. The cable had caught him just below the buttocks. It didn't even slow down as it passed through him. His legs continued to stand for a few seconds then toppled over. His torso had siphoned off enough energy from the cable in the form of angular momentum to lift him into the air and spin him slowly backwards. His arms instinctively whirled counter clockwise, trying to get legs that were no longer attached back beneath him. Nerves in the affected tissue were traumatized into silence. By the time they would recover enough to send searing messages of the horror to his brain, blood loss and shock would shut down his nervous system.

    As he sailed weightlessly through the darkness, John tried to figure out where he was. His brain was so fuzzy he couldn't think. It seemed as though there was something important he should know, but he couldn't clear his head enough to figure it out. He became distantly aware of cold water on the back of his neck. What did that mean? Why was it so dark and why couldn't he wake up? Was he still in his bunk? Why was there water in his face? A death that was horrible beyond words to see enveloped him with surprising mercy. He slipped gently into his final sleep before pain or fear had a chance to intrude.

  7. #17
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    — — —
    Stinky and the chief appeared in the wheelhouse at the same time, followed closely by the captain. "What's going on?" demanded the captain.


    "I've busted up the tow." said Bob flatly. He was way past any concerns of how this would look. His career was sunk, but for a few hours yet he still had some responsibility. There were loose barges being swept down river, and he was going to make sure they didn't do any more damage. He had all ready broadcast a general alert on marine band channel six-teen. A couple of captains down river had come back promising to catch and tie up any barges that came their way.

    "Jesus," the captain muttered. "What have we still got?"

    "We've still got lines on three barges, and two more are grounded outside the channel." said Bob. "The other three were headed back into the channel last time I saw them."
    "How the hell did this happen?"

    "I let the radar sucker me out of the channel," said Bob. "Then, when I tried to get back in, those sloppy couplings couldn't take the load." The captain and pilot both glared at Stinky, but neither said anything to him. Both knew they should have taken action long before now. This was as much their fault for letting him get by with it as it was his for not keeping the tow in good shape.

    For his part, Stinky kept quiet. He knew he would probably lose his job, but he would be able to get on with another company. Unlike the captain and Bob, this wouldn't ruin his career such as it was.

    "OK then," said the captain. "Let's get two of these barges tied to the bank some where, and face up good to the other one so we can start chasing down runaways.

  8. #18
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    The square front of a tow boat isn't designed for speed through the water. The powerful engines can actually push the nose of a boat underwater if it's not tied, or faced up, to a barge. The fastest way for a tow boat to travel is faced up to a single barge. The barge will also give the deck hands more room to move around while trying to wrangle in the errant barges.

    The captain was debating about taking the pilot's seat, but decided that at the moment Bob probably was in a better position to know where to find the runaway barges. Having decided to leave Bob at the helm, he turned his attention to the rest of the crew. "Where's Frank and John?" he asked. He glanced back to Bob and saw the sudden look of concern come over his face. "He wasn't on the tow was he?" asked the captain.

    "I saw him come off." insisted Bob.

    The captain grabbed the mike, and flipped it over to PA. "John," his voice boomed over the boat. "Come to the wheelhouse now." He replaced the mike and turned to the chief. "Get Frank's ass out of the bunk. You man the weather deck and get Frank and the boys out on the barge. Break out the radios so we can stay in touch."



    The chief left, heading for Frank's cabin aft the engine room. He stopped at his station in the engine room and pulled three hand held radio's out of a locker. He flipped them all on and did a radio check with Bob as he went to Frank's cabin. He rapped on the door and was surprised to hear Frank's voice come from the other side of the companion way.

    "I'm in here." Frank groaned. "I can't get off the pot."

    The chief poked his head through the door, then quickly pulled it back. "Damn!" exclaimed the chief. "What crawled up your ass and died?"

    "My guts are killing me." whimpered Frank.

    "Well, you’re going to have to hold it for a while." said the chief. "We've got problems."

    The radio crackled. "Chief," came Bob's voice through the radio. "Have you seen John?"

  9. #19
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    "Negative," the chief replied. "I haven't seen him."

    "Check the boat and see if he's aboard." came Bob's worried reply.

    The chief stuck his head back through the door. "Come on Frank. We've got a man to look for."

    "I don't think I can get off the pot," Frank whined.

    The chief was unaware of the reason for Frank's distress. Frank worked for the chief. As aggravated as the chief got at Frank, he felt a responsibility for him, and he wouldn't have gone along with the prank. While it was obvious that Frank was really having trouble, he assumed that Frank was milking it, trying to get out of work. Tonight there just wasn't time for to put up with Frank’s procrastinating.

    "Get your pants up and get your ass on deck!" the chief roared.

    Frank hastily pulled up his pants as the chief handed him a radio. The chief stepped through the door into the galley with Frank on his heels. Seeing that John wasn't in the galley, he pointed to the port side door which led to the narrow deck that ran down the side of the boat. "You take the port side, I'll take starboard. We'll meet on the bow," he told Frank.

    Frank waddled out the door, knees together and bent over. Out on the narrow port side deck, he looked aft. He knew he should go all the way to the stern, but he was afraid that too much walking might make him soil himself. He decided to head straight for the bow. There was another head there and he all ready felt like he was going to need it. He took a few steps, then felt something leaking into his pants. He stopped and grabbed the rail as he tried to keep himself dry. As he stood there holding the railing and clenching his rear something in the water caught his eye. He pulled the flashlight out of his back pocket and shined it out on the water. His eyes bulged as recognized a life jacket. There was something in it. "Man overboard, port side!" he screamed into the radio.

  10. #20
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    Immediately the engines dropped in pitch as the pilot chopped the throttles. With the engines idling the danger of sucking the man in the water under the boat and into the screws was gone, but Frank still had to try and get him back onboard, He grabbed a long gaff pole from it's hooks on the bulkhead behind him and began trying to reach the floating figure. He laid on the deck and, holding the rail stanchion with one hand, reached as far as he could with the gaff pole. He managed to get the hook on the end of the pole through the loop on the back of the life jacket just as the chief came through the galley door onto the deck behind him.

    "You got him!" the chief said excitedly.

    The back end of the pole kept hitting the side of the boat as Frank tried to pull the floating form in. Seeing this, the chief took the pole and backed down the deck, "I'll bring him to you." the chief said. "You just grab him when I get him along side." As the jacketed form got closer, Frank could see it was John. He was face down in the water with his arms floating limply at his side. Frank realized he was going to have to get John's face out of the water, but the gaff pole was holding him in that position.

    "I've got him," he told the chief, as he disengaged the hook from the life jacket. Still laying on the deck, Frank took a hold of the life jacket with his left hand and reached underwater with his right, trying to grab John's belt loop. He couldn't reach the loop under the life jacket so he decided to just grab anyplace he could. He needed to get John on his back and see if he was breathing. Grabbing John's crotch, he rolled him back. Frank was surprised at how easily John rolled. His first glance at John's paper white face with open mouth and staring eyes shook Frank pretty badly. When his gaze fell on the gaping wounds on either side of Frank's hands, where John's legs should have been, he completely lost control.

    Emptying his bowels on one end and his stomach from the other, Frank released the fearful thing in his hands and desperately crabbed backwards away from it. His screams of horror were muffled by vomit.

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