A Close Call

            



    We were enroute to our home port of St. John NB, from the High Arctic. Our job there had been to act as standby vessel for the tanker Irving Arctic on a voyage to Rae Pt., Melville Island, where she had taken in the years supply of heating and diesel fuel oil for power generation. That being successfully accomplished, we were on our way to St.John and after a fine and uneventful trip southward, we were almost at our journey’s end  and were off Cape Sable  on the morning in question at about 0300hrs.

    We had the tide with us----full flood and were about midway between the Cape Sable and Seal Island. The tugs speed running free as we were with no tow was between 12 to 13 knots and now the tide in our favour she was making 15….fairly flying! She couldn’t go too fast for me, because I was going on leave as soon as we reached port.

    I was doing some cleaning in the engine room (we always left the vessel spotless for the on-coming crew)and about three o’clock decided it was time for a break and a good cup of tea on deck so as to get cooled off.

    I went up to the galley, boiled the kettle and made my tea. I thought about going up to the bridge and having a visit with Gibby Mossman, the mate.The seaman on watch was soojeeing the bulkheads in the officers mess; I had a chat with him and headed back aft, foregoing the visit with Gibby.

    The entrance to the deck was through the engine room work shop, so with tea mug in hand, I walked on through the shop, stepped over the wash board, and was out on deck, were I found a wonderful fine night; an excellent night to by heading in; another month at sea behind us.

    There was a lot of traffic around and I went out around the corner of the winch room to better see what was on our port side. Sized up the lights out to port and they went right down over the horizon;  I started back for the engine room door, the Swedish Polar(our main engine)roaring out of the stack far above my head.

    With my tea about half finished, I walked over to the starboard bulwark, were it joined the break deck, just high enough to make a fine arm rest, and cradling my tea mug in my hands, I looked shoreward toward the Pubnicos, and marvelled at the speed the tug was making when  I got to wondering what was coming up ahead and to starboard and leaned out as far as I could to see around the corner of the breakdeck; I could see Seal Island light plain enough, but could’nt see Blonde Rock buoy or the Over Falls, still too far away.

                                      




 The lights were on in my cabin which was situated about twenty feet forward of were I stood, and the galley lights were on as well, a bit more forward.still, and as I leaned out, something passed by both lights, just a flicker or a shadow, and I recoiled back in reflex just as a dan buoy or high flyer pole topped with a radar reflector swept down the starboard  side scraping the paint on the out board edge of the bulwarks..

    It had passed astern in an instant and I stood there shaken, knowing that I had just come very near to being killed, which, had I been struck on the head with that pole travelling at a speed of 15 knots I most surely would have been.

    I went up to the wheel house my knees still shaking and asked Gibby if he was trying to see how close he could come to a target, or if the radar was working or what.

    He demanded to know what I was on about and when I told him him he swore that the buoy had never showed on the radar scope.We watched the radar together for a bit and after a time the buoy showed briefly in our wake then disappeared again to be seen no more by us.

    The buoy was of course, was down with the tide, that is to say the force of the tidee running past it would not allow it to rise to a vertical position except momentarily at intervals.

    Had I been killed everyone on the tug would have been under suspicion both from the law and worse from each other. It sure would be quite the inquest, and it probably would never have been known how I had died.

     We got in St. John that afternoon and I caught an evening flight for Halifax and travelled on home from the airport, realizing that a certain shrouded gentleman and I still have an appointment to keep at some other point along life’s highway.

Don.