Chapter 8: Panic over the Atlantic
Cass looks towards the distant dock as the “Virgin Queen” steams out of Lisbon’s harbor. He sees what looks like three persons standing on dock, but it just may be the silhouette of stacked cargo. Out of curiosity, he waves to the departing darkened figures. As he does, he hears one of crew call out to him.
“We need you up forward Cass!”
As he turns, he looks one more time on shore. This time the three tiered shadow is waving. He thinks maybe it’s just a breeze blowing a jacket left on top some containers. But, he decides to think it is Ava and the children. In his heart he knows it is. He walks forward towards the bulkhead of the ship where the crew is putting the finishing touches on strapping down the cargo. He turns his head one last time towards the dock to see their black silhouettes dance in front of a beautiful red sunset. He quietly repeats the old adage Unks taught him years before.
“Red s
ky at night is a sailor’s delight,” and then whispers, “I’ll be back. I promise.”
The “Virgin Queen” is stacked to the tilt with fresh supplies bound for Massachusetts, New York, Philadelphia, and then the Port of Norris. Cass has visited these ports before, but the ship has never been so loaded down with supplies. The ship’s buoyancy line is just under the mild surf of the sea. There are whispers aboard that the greedy captain is risking more than just the cargo.
Tensions stay high as they travel the Atlantic’s deeper water. The crew keeps their eyes’ on the morning and evening horizons for signs to what might lay ahead. They know rough water would endanger the “Virgin Queen,” while a storm would definitely drown this fine old lady. Only time will tell who wins this bet. The Cap has wagered their lives he is right.
Blue skies remain on their side the first three days out to sea. Stymie the Stutter checks
one more day off the “mess galley’s” calendar. There are seven more days circled to the right of the one he just placed an “X” on. That’s how long it will take to finish crossing this mischievous Atlantic know by all sailors as the Great Lady.
The crew turns their gazing back to their evening supper. There’s not much laughter tonight. Normally it permeates the “mess galley,” and is a way of staying off tension that comes from a hard day’s work. But, not even one hilarious insult occurs between the men.
Frenchy worries some of the crew with his comment. His bad knee from the war gives him problems right before bad weather. It seems it's beginning to flare up.
Stymie hears Frenchy's warning as he makes his way inside the dining area, while carrying and stirring his large pot.
His face fills with concern as Wrong Way replies, “Frenchy is just kidding.”
No one wants our cook upset; especially one that seems born nervous. The rest of the crew confirms Wong’s finding. They force Frenchy to change his mind after seeing the apprehension on Stymie’s face.
Frenchy immediately proclaims, “Well, it’s been wrong once before.”
Cass asks Stymie what he is planning on making in his pot.
“I’m stirring batter for a pineapple upside down cake.”
All the crew begins to superstitiously stare at one another; as if his bowl contains an omen to their fate.
Wong pans across their faces, seeing they are full of fear. He begins to laugh. In his broken English, sprinkled with a pinch of his oriental dialect, he lectures them.
“You all silly. You think Stymie know you fate. Or maybe, his bowl knows.”
Wong pushes himself up from the table as his face turns serious. He turns around and
begins to laugh again. All hands have given Wrong Way their undivided attention, and now wait for his reason they shouldn’t be afraid. He walks away while staring at each of their faces.
“No one knows my fate, especially a stutterer.”
Cass takes his parting insult to heart with vengeance in his eyes.
Wong notices, and then turns towards Stymie before leaving the “mess galley.”
He humbly states, “No offense I intend to you Mr. Stymie.”
The last thing the crew hears from Wong is his parting “goodnight fellows,” and his “laughter” echoing through the empty metal hallway.
Most of the crew decided not to wait for desert. They take their conversation with them as they decide to follow Wong’s advice. Some laughter follows them as they joke about their previous recollection. Unks thinks otherwise. He remains behind holding on to Cass’ arm.
“Stay a moment with your dear Unks.”
Cass returns to his seat opposite his uncle.
Unks directs his words quietly towards Cass’ ears, so as not to alarm Stymie.
“I’ve sailed these water’s all my life. But, something is different this time. I just want you to know something. If anything should happen, I want you to worry about yourself. I’ve lived the life I’ve always wanted, and I want you to do the same. If, and that’s if anything should happen, I want you to save yourself.”
Cass knows Unks is more serious than he’s ever been.
He returns Unks concern by reluctantly replying, “Yes Unks.”
Jared snatches Cass’ hand, and then very firmly clenches it. The slight pain administered shocks Cass into submission.
“I’ve never been more serious laddie. Promise me you will do what I say, or I won’t let
go.”
Cass tries to explain that he could never leave him to die, but Unks stops him from talking.
He twist Cass’ wrist and says, “I’ll ring this right off you. Promise me!”
Cass never has lied in his life, but he unwillingly obliges Unks.
With his mouth he states, “Yes sir, I will.”
But, in his heart he knows he’s become a liar.
Unks states, “Good then. Let’s get some sleep.”
Unks and Cass bid the baking Stymie “goodnight” before leaving the “mess galley.”
Stymie hurries to the hall and sees their backsides departing.
“Well, I guess we’ll have the cake tomorrow for supper. Goodnight' fellows.”
Cass stops Unks right before entering the “living quarters.”
“I’m going topside for a might bit.”
Unks looks into Cass’ eyes, seeing he needs some time to digest what he’s demanded of him.
“You go on laddie. You go right on ahead.”
Cass stares over the “stern” side railing at all the stars on the distant horizon. He thinks not only about Unks promise, but about the family depending on him returning one day. The serenity of this night’s sky promises him that Unks is worrying about nothing. But, a cool breeze briskly reminds him autumn is just over the horizon. This cold slap in his face helps him remember this is the time of year the sea will lie to you. This is the time when the most violent storms arise out of nowhere.
Cass prays a silent prayer, “God, keep us safe. Please keep us all safe.”
Four more sunny days of warm wind blows over the deck of the “Virgin Queen.” Four more tense nights filled with ravenous red sunsets. Th
e men have noticed the unusually calm sea has not been rocking them to sleep.
The crew whispers, “It is an eerie thing for such a large body of water to be so silent and smooth for so long.”
The morning brings mixed emotions. Cass awakens before sunrise to fetch the first cup of coffee. After bidding Stymie “good morning,” he heads top-deck to check the horizon. Frenchy passes him as Cass makes his way “starboard.”
“Where are you going Cass?”
“To glimpse the first light of day.”
Frenchy asks if he’s heard the latest news from the Cap.
Cass slides his slurping face left and right denying this knowledge, while trying not to spill any of the hot elixir.
Frenchy walks backwards while explaining, “Cap said the smooth sea has put us almost a day closer to shore. We should be at Boston tomorrow afternoon.”
Cass pulls the hot mug from his mouth to tell Frenchy thanks for the welcomed news, but in his hurry he swishes hot coffee over the sides, and on to his shirt.
“Hot, hot, hot,” are the only words he can think to say in its place.
Cass stares at the dark blue sunrise as it gradually turns blood red. Every sailor knows the saying, “red sky in the morning; sailor take warning.” But, the news from Frenchy and the calmness of the glassy sea suggests the Great Lady is not lying this time. Cass enjoys the rest of his coffee while dismissing the sailor’s saying as just a myth. He reminds himself there’s only one more day till shore. What could possibly happen this close to land? He watches the red Sunrise like an artist stares at masterpiece. For, this would be a work of art he’d never forget.
The afternoon winds pick up. A clear blue sky fills with ominous dark clouds. The once smooth sea now bounces the “Virgin Queen” up, revealing the red buoyancy line running around ship, and then slams it down four feet under the base of the waves. Each toss throws water over the “bow” and top-deck. Each wave over the “bow” adds extra weight to the already heavy Ship. The cargo hull doors remain open to hold all the excess cargo. The bilge pumps are running full out, battling to keep pace exporting the incoming water. The situation worsens as the night approaches.
What once was just a storm has turned into a full-fledged demon. The weight of the “Virgin Queen,” with its added abundant cargo, is the only reason the ship has not capsized. Gravity is pulling the weight of the ship down, counteracting the “Nor'easter's” gale force winds trying to tip the “Virgin” over. Most of the crew are below deck tying and retying the cargo that constantly keeps breaking away from its mooring. They hurry to keep it centered in the hull. Every loose container is a potential torpedo waiting to pierce the hull of the ship. Uneven distribution of the cargo also makes the ship unsteady to steer. Those less fortune remain top-deck to stable the cargo on deck.
A rushing wind screams through the top-deck’s bulkhead hatch as orders are shouted to the crew below.
“Cap says we’re taking on too much water! We need to get rid of some of the cargo before he loses control of the steering all together!”
Each of the crew frantically jostles into position to untie the closes section of the cargo’s mooring. One of the men top-deck yells through the space between the part open cargo hull
doors.
“Hurry up fellows, the waves are getting worse!”
Just as the crew frees the mooring straps, a huge wave hits the ship. It slowly leans the ship twenty degrees “port-side,” forcing the “Virgin Queen” to grind her metal. The “screeching” sound of the hull’s metal plates bite's each of their rivets fighting to stay securely in place. A few lose their battle and explode like bullets. High pressure streams shootout their holes. The torturing fountains increase, and then dribble, as the hull rocks up and away from each humungous passing wave. The crew tries timing their assault to freeing the cargo, but the Great Lady has become angry and erratic in her fury.
Cass runs topside to help toss the loose containers overboard. Unks stays below deck to help keep the unbound stack of cargo centered in the belly of the ship. The wind shrieks louder and louder down the cargo hatch as each loosened container is jerked from the stack protruding through the opening in the cargo hull doors. Three of the crew top-side frantically grab at the cargo hull doors and hold on to them for dear life. The “Virgin Queen” slowly dips as a sudden wave submerges the “bow” and forces a dozen barrels of “salt cod fish” to float free. Cass watches them benevolently float by, and then ram their way into the ship’s railing before shattering overboard. He sees the rest of the top-side crew panic after their heads reappear above the cold briny sea. Each of them reaches for anything that may float with one arm, and anything solidly attached to the ship with their other. Fearless Cass though will have none of that.
Cass forms a lifeline with his outstretched arm.
“Grab it Frenchy!” he commands.
Frenchy lets go of a wooden crate before he lunges towards Cass’ open hand. Another wave dunks the “bow” and the heads of the men.
Cass pulls Frenchy through the dark water, as he clenches his fingers with his other hand
onto the cargo hull door. The tossing ship violently throws the remaining wave over the deck revealing the fearful face of Frenchy. Cass sees all the men's dire faces as a “spider web” of lightning bolts crackle through the night sky. Cass firmly holds on while commanding Frenchy to reach for the floating Cowboy’s hand. Another wave and another on top it pounds over them. Cass uses all his strength to pull the submerged men against the drowning current towards him. Another lightning bolt shows Cass what to do next.
The “bow” begins to pop up as the current of water rushes overboard. Cass frees his hand from the cargo door long enough to lift the floating body of Cowboy over the hatch to ride the current, sucking him below deck. Cass regains his grip on the cargo hull door as the “bow” rushes above the water. He sees the face of a man who has just looked into the face of death. Frenchy’s hand now shakes nervously in Cass’ grip.
To relieve his anxiety while waiting for the next big wave, Cass yells, “I think the last wave sole a month’s pay from the greedy Cap.”
Immediately, another wave and another lightning bolt crash over them. Cass opens his mouth to show Frenchy his smiling clenched teeth, as he frees his hand to lift Frenchy into the current flowing through the cargo hull doors. Frenchy rides the tide below deck while smiling back at Cass.
The next wave removes the last of the containers protruding above deck. They break free and float “starboard.” One decides to smash into Cass’ hand, reminding him who is really in charge of the sea. But, Cass does not let go of the cargo hull door.
The water and the containers rush overboard as the frantic “bow” reaches up for a fresh breath of air. Cass fights his way to his feet, and then races between the opening in the cargo hull doors. There are two bars at the top, and at each end of the doorway, keeping the hull doors locked open. He grabs one bar just as the next wave smashes over. Cass swings both his legs across the strong downward sucking current, and then kicks free one bar. Cass settles his legs on top the stack of cargo below deck. The “bow” once more leaps up just as Cass jumps up to snatch the remaining bar causing this watery prison. He dives flat onto the top of the stack just as the Great Lady slams the unsecured cargo hull doors shut.
The exhausted body of Cass rolls down the current of the waterfall, splashing into the pool of the half flooded bay. Unks, along wi
th several crew members, race to lift large Cass out of the water. The rest brace the rocking sides of the cargo from falling onto them all. This group is not strong enough to help the big man to his feet. They return to shoring up the cargo containers as Unks just cradles Cass’ head above the slowly retreating water.
Unks tells his nephew, “Laddie, you’re a darn fool.”
Cass’ glazed eyes can only stare into Unks' worried stare.
He hugs Cass, and then whispers, “You cheated death boy. Thank God.”
The rocking ship tilts thirty to forty degrees side to side. The men “port-side” begin screaming as the stack splits down its unrestrained middle, spilling over them. Wooden debris from the broken containers washes around the waist deep pool. The roaming crates are making it impossible to help the trapped men.
Wrong Way Wong yells down from atop the remaining stack, “They is drowning! Help! The men is drowning!”
Wong slides down the stack towards the “port-side”, and then begins to shove at the boxes. The rather large Professor strains both his arms to brace the remaining side of the stack from falling onto Unks, and the reviving Cass.
Unks sees the urgency to help. He pulls Cass against the ship’s hull, and then leans him
up and out of the rising water. Unks crawls between the Professor and the stack to help relieve the weight that’s fighting to crush him.
Wong’s scream slaps Cass awake!
Unks looks down at nephew as anger fills Cass' face. It’s as if Cass is forcing every one of his muscles to come abruptly to attention.
He leaps into the stack and mightily shoves straight two tons of crates.
He growls out, “Go help the men! I got this!”
Both the amazed Unks and Professor hurry off, sloshing their way around the stack. They see only Frenchy and Wong battling to slide the crates off the drowning men.
Unks looks at the wondering Professor as both their minds conclude together, “The rest of the men are under the water!”
Four men tear at the cargo to get to the five or six fighting to stay alive. Never have men moved so fast or furiously as these four. For, these were their family members drowning.
As the ship steady’s momentarily upright, Cass finishes securing his side of the cargo’s mooring. He grabs a lose strap and latches it on to the top strap. He grabs the other end and tugs the load towards the “port-side” as he goes to help the four. He holds the entire weight of the remaining cargo with one arm that is trying to tip over. With his other, he punches his hand through the pile of crates, and then begins yanking each one away. The crates crash behind Cass as they smash into the side of the hull.
He growls out, “Blast you Poseidon!”
Over and over Cass brutally punches each crate, and then viciously yanks each one off his drowned crew family.
“Curse you Great Lady!”
His superhuman strength tosses the two hundred pound contains like they are little more
than the weight of a loaf of bread.
The amazed four also gain strength beyond their ability. Each struggle, but are able to pull aside a crate all by them self. But, it is the sheer unflinching determination of Cass that allows them to reach the men below.
Cass jerks away a crate allowing one man to float free. He swipes the crate aside, flinging it into the hull. He retains hold of the strap as the ship tilts. He quickly grabs the unconscious’s man, using the ship’s rocking motion to hoist him from the water. Unks drags the unconscious man to the stairs, as Cass rips another crate away- freeing another drowned man.
The Professor is able to grasp one more body and pull him away. Wong, Frenchy, and Unks continue dragging these lifeless bodies towards the stairway. Unks returns for another body as Wong and Frenchy render life giving “first aide.”
Cass yanks the last trapped man out of the water while maintaining his awesome grip on the straining strap.
The Professor pushes the floating corpse towards Unks, and then returns to Cass’ side.
The weight of the fallen container’s has strained the bulkhead to the point of leaking. Bubbles percolate up from under the waterline, showing the pair where it is entering the ship.
The Professor searches under the water for another mooring strap as the water level slowly rises. He finds it and is able to secure one end of it to the stack. Both Cass’ arms strain to hold the tilting cargo as the Professor searches for the next mooring strap. Cass’ swollen biceps look like they’re ready to explode. Each swollen muscle in his arms pumps as they expand. The Professor leaps up and snaps the hook onto the top cargo strap. He returns to reaching below water, searching out the last hidden strap. Every vain in Cass’ arms pulsate, but he refuses to let
go.
The Professor finds it, and then shouts, “I got it!”
The stretching straps hold beyond their load capacity as the “Virgin Queen” tilts “starboard.” The Straps begin screaming out the vibrating sound a plucking violinist might make. The Professor frantically latches the last strap as the ship straightens. The ship leans once more. This time the straps stretch taunt, but are silent.
Cass immediately drops his arms in utter exhaustion. The Professor pats his back, and then passes by him to help the rest of the crew. Cass leans against the secured rocking stack while panting. He turns his head towards the rest of the crew, watching to see if any drowned men came to.
Cowboy has been revived back from the dead. Cass is only able to stare at him for a moment before his exhausted body and weary mind rocks into a daze. He sees the blur of two other obscured men sitting further away. Cass also notices the faint figures of Unks, Wong, Frenchy, and the Professor as they continue to revive the men.
Cass slowly approaches them through the deepening water. Knowing the impending danger, Cass orders them to get out of the sinking cargo hull.
Tired figures begin climbing the steps, pulling their exhausted body's up by the railing. The Professor leads the last of the men up the steps. He carries the shoulders of what looks like a dead man, while Unks carries his legs. Cass assists his exhausted uncle by pushing Unks up from below.
The gale wind and the sea lashes at the line of men hurrying across the deck.
Cass yells through the wind, “Get them to the 'mess galley,' and then send back the “coma long” with 30 feet of heavy chain.”
Cass slams the bulkhead door, and then locks it shut. He’s sure this action will upset Unks. Cass has sentenced himself to death unless the equipment returns in time, and he is able to stop the leak. At the very least, Cass’ effort has bought the crew some more time. Locking the bulkhead causes a vacuum, which slows the leak in the hull and postpones the ship from sinking.
What seems like an eternity, Cass finally hears the sound of metal “banging” and “clanging” on the bulkhead door. Cass opens it part way to peer out. Unks is holding the “coma long” and dragging the heavy metal chain. Unks tries forcing his way past Cass who is fighting him every inch of the way.
“I’m coming in!”
Cass tries pushing him out the door, but Unks fights him off by smacking him with the chain. Unks falls down the steps as the chain “clangs” down with him. Cass locks the door, and then leaps down to help Unks out of the water.
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Cass yells at him, “You old stubborn fool!”
He drags Unks up and angrily stares in his eyes. Unks stares him down with his own menacing stare.
Both continue staring as Unks states, “Are we going to do this?”
Cass turns his attention back towards stopping the leak. Unks leads the way, waddling off through the waist deep water. Cass notices the blood oozing from the slash in Unks arm. He realizes Unks must have gotten it from falling. Cass’ concern shifts to stopping Unks bleeding, but Unks will have none of that.
Both fight off the waves churning in the belly of the ship. Cass carries the “coma long” along with his end of the chain.
He yells, “Hook your end the chain on that hull beam!”
Unks obliges his command as Cass moves to the other side of the cargo bay. Cass hooks the “coma long” onto the opposing beam of the hull, and then lengthens the “coma long” cable. Cass grabs and then pulls the hook on the chain, trying to make both ends meet. Unks continues to hold his end of the chain onto the beam while Cass begins to crank the lever on the “coma long.”
Unks yells across, “Stymie told me the Cap has increased power to forward bilges.”
Both men know this will help drain the hull’s water if they can stop the leak. Cass finishes cranking all the excess slack, and then begins stretching the outer hull back towards the ship’s center. The “coma long” cable stretches out a deafening high pitch sound under the pressure of Cass’ forceful cranks. One of the links in the chain snaps into place after prying itself out of its jammed position. Cass has to wait for the loud reverberating chain to settle.
He yells to Unks, “I sure hope this thing doesn’t break!”
“Aye laddie,” Unks earnestly replies.
Cass continues cranking as the hull slowly creeks back into place. The cranking handle heats and bends, but Cass continues to squeeze it with his mighty hand.
Unks looks down, and then yells, “Stop Cass! The water level is beginning to drop.”
Cass hurries and scoops some cold water over the “coma long” to cool it, and prevent it from bending further.
Unks just drops his tired arms, and then sits exhausted in the receding water.
The ship still takes turn leaning side to side, but the rocking seems to be settling down.
Cass hurries to help Unks while yelling out, “I think we’re past the worse of the storm!”
Unks tired eyes begin to close as he replies, “Aye laddie, aye.”
Cass carries his unconscious uncle to his bunk. He strips his wet clothes off, and then lays
him on his bed. After warmly covering him with four wool blankets, he sloshes his soaked shoes toward the “mess galley” to find out how the rest of the crew fared.
He stops at the “galley” entrance to watch all the worn men. They are either sleeping on the “galley’s” tables, or sipping hot mugs with blankets wrapped around them.
Stymie the Stutterer comes out of the “galley’s” kitchen carrying a pot by one of its handle, and holding a ladle hooked through the pot’s other handle.
Stymie whispers, “Hot, hot, hot,” as he totes the clumsy pot along. He spills some of its steamy contents along his journey.
Cass counts the number of men and finds out the crew are all accounted for. What seems more amazing is they all seem to be alive.
His heart compels him to pronounce loudly, “Thank you God!”