idiot!”
The smile disappeared from his face. “What?”
“Look at that plate!”
He looked for several seconds. “Yeah, what? You don’ like Alabama?”
“It says ‘truck,’ you moron. In case you didn’t notice, I ain’t drivin’ a truck. We could get stopped for this. Might as well say ‘stolen car’. Weren’t you thinkin’?”
“Oh. Yeah. Um, let’s get goin’, and I’ll change it again at the next stop.”
Search
BJ sat patiently while the Operations Manager talked on the phone with the Coast Guard search leader. He heard a lot of “Ahuh’s” and “Yeah’s” and “I understand” before the call ended.
“Well? What’s he say, boss? They gonna keep looking?”
“Doesn’t look like it, BJ. You know, these things never turn anything up, and besides, our helo was insured.”
BJ couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “You can’t insure against losing Jake! This is more important than some damn helicopter. Jake’s our best pilot and a friend. We gotta keep searching, even if the Coasties are backing off.”
“Look, BJ, I know how you feel. Hell, we know how good a pilot Jake was, but he’s gone. It’s as simple as that.”
“No, it can’t be. He’s worth some effort to find him.”
“Who’s going to pay for it? We can’t afford to take a bird off line, not now that we lost one of our biggest.”
BJ continued to plead, “Look, Chief, I want to keep looking.”
“Fine, BJ, you keep looking. Just do it on your time and with your equipment.”
“Come on, boss. It’s important to the other pilots. The company can’t just abandon one of its own.”
“BJ, we’re not abandoning anything. The Coast Guard is ending the search. Hell, they’ve got a half dozen aircraft and a hundred people to search and rescue. We don’t have any. If they can’t find him, then he isn’t going to be found.”
“How can you be sure?”
“BJ, I’ve been in this business down here for over thirty years and never seen a pilot found that went down, especially in bad weather and so far out at sea. You’ve been here a long time too, so don’t tell me I’m wrong.”
“There’s always a first time. It’s Jake. If anyone could survive, it’s him.”
“BJ, you got my message. We ain’t going after him.”
“How about me?”
“What about you?”
“I’m not on flight status for passengers, so you don’t lose anything if I fly alone. Hell, I’ll pay for the airtime.”
“That’s a hundred fifty an hour. You can’t afford that.”
“You don’t know what I can afford. I’m only asking to try. Figure it’s just to make me feel good.”
“You’re crazy, BJ. I’ll talk to management, but you’ll have to sign a liability waiver. If anything happens, we don’t want your relatives coming after us for letting you fly without your commercial ticket.”
“Hell, Ross, you know I don’t have anyone. You couldn’t ask for a sweeter bet.”
Throwing his hands up in frustration, he answered, “Okay, BJ, I’ll try to get permission for you to fly 0978E. It’s so old it scares passengers.”
“So am I! I’ll take 0978E.”
“Just sit on it until I get the okay.”
“Thanks, Ross.”
Live or Die
Out on the platform, Jake was beyond exhaustion and each attempt to pull over the net like a gymnast failed. He was nearly ready to give up, but tried another approach. This time, he pulled up as high as he could, about half a chin-up then reached over the rail, grabbing the net cable from the top side with his right hand. For a moment, most of his weight was held by his bent left arm, pulling upward, and by his right arm levered over the rail on top. Taking another big risk, he let go with his left hand and rotated half way around to get his left hand up over the rail, grabbing the cable from above. All of his weight was now focused on his forearms, acting as fulcrums across the frame rail. As he tried to pull upward, pain shot through his arms, and he screamed, fearing both arms would break under the strain. Even with the intense pain, he was able to pull up enough to grab the next cable in the netting with one hand, then the other. With two more efforts his armpits were resting on the rail with his body still dangling over the ocean. He could see the surface of the platform, which meant safety. He pulled harder.
He was over the rail, onto the steel net looking up at the blackened sky. He was alive! He couldn’t believe it, couldn’t do it again in a million years. He had beaten death. The exhilaration gave him renewed energy. He smiled and lay there, thanking God for allowing him to live. He didn’t move for at least half an hour, closing his eyes from exhaustion. Then a distant clap of thunder brought back the reality that he was laying on a bed of steel cables anchored to the ocean, a perfect lightning rod! He struggled to crawl across the stiff net onto the metal platform deck. Not a great improvement in safety. He had had two helicopters struck by lightning on these platforms. He would be toast if he stayed outside. He rushed to the door that he knew led to the galley. Most of the derricks were laid out the same way. It was padlocked, and he looked for a breaking bar when a lightning bolt hit nearby, and the thunder was instantaneous.
By the dormant drilling head, inactive for many years, were long pry bars. Jake hefted one about three feet long and ran to the galley door, breaking the hasp. He threw the bar aside and entered the large eating hall. A dozen or more workers would use this room for meetings and dining when the platform was in operation. From appearances, it had been closed for more than a year. He didn’t know which platform it was. It was safe from the storm inside the building, and he was suddenly overwhelmed with fatigue. There was a ladder down one level to the sleeping quarters. There were no windows because the crews worked around the clock, and some were always sleeping. There were fifteen bunk beds. He went to the nearest bottom bunk and unrolled the thin mattress onto the suspension springs. There was a locker with pillows by the foot of the bed. Without a generator for electricity, the air was muggy and hot, but it felt good to be warm again. He stripped naked and was asleep in minutes.
Hours later he awoke in total darkness. The light reflecting down the passage from the galley level had disappeared in the night, and he wasn’t going exploring in the steel enclave until he could see again. He was hungry but welcomed the safety and rest he was getting. Wants and needs take on a different perspective when circumstances require. He actually felt good.
He awoke hours later to the squeal of sea gulls somewhere outside. The sun was high enough to cast rays reflecting through the building. He was famished and went to the galley to see if anything edible was left behind by the drilling company. The abundance of stainless cookware hinted that the company might be planning to return. To his delight, there was a pantry cabinet filled with canned foods. He ate an entire can of pears. The fresh water was still running, and he avoided thinking about what might be growing in the reservoir tank somewhere above, as he drank heartily.
Refreshed and glad to be alive, he explored the other levels of the platform for anything that would help his rescue. The huge generator had a small amount of diesel fuel in the tank, but the batteries were dead. In one of the storage lockers, he found a small gasoline generator for charging the batteries, and there was a gas can with some fuel nearby. It took several minutes to start, but the charger indicated that it was working. He had no idea how long it would take to charge the batteries sufficiently for the big engine to start. There was a radio in the galley.
Also in the storage shed, he found some heavy fishing poles and tackle. The cooks often offered fresh snapper or cod for dinner on the rigs. Before trying to catch his next meal, he continued looking for anything that could be a signaling device, but only had the sheets from the bunk room to work with. The radio was his best hope.
He walke
d around the square platform which had a drilling tower in the center almost two hundred feet tall. He would be able to see almost fifteen miles from the top, but he didn’t feel like climbing anything for a while. His arms and shoulders were inflamed, and his thighs bruised, not to mention the cuts and scrapes from barnacles. He hurt all over, but was glad to be alive.
Unbeknownst to him, twenty miles away, BJ was flying low and slow along the flight path Jake was presumably on when he went down. He adjusted for currents, but couldn’t be sure where the bird went down. Come on Jake, where are you?
The weather was clear, but the sun went down too quickly in the fall season. He was only able to stay airborne for about two more hours before nightfall. He needed to be doing this, but felt heartsick nonetheless looking at the vastness of the ocean.
Jake walked around the outer perimeter of the platform straining to see if any boats were in view. After checking all four quadrants, he was clearly alone. He did see a large sign part way up the drill tower which read “Ocean Victory.” At least he had food, water, and, eventually, he would have a radio. The sun was low in the western sky, ready to drop into the ocean. He decided to get oriented in the bunk room again before total darkness set in. He checked the battery and refueled the charger. The diesel battery bank would take at least eight more hours to charge before he could attempt starting the generator, which was probably