A Ship Wreck Tale

The morning of October 28, 1982 found me en route to join the Metro Star, a small product carrying oil tanker belonging to Alonzo Landry, of Shediac, N.B.The ship was at the Texaco terminal at Eastern Passage loading mixed products for the North Shore of the Gulf of St. Lawrence, to fill storage tanks at the various ports along that coast prior to their becoming blockaded by the winter freeze up.Landry had the charter from Natashquan to Blanc Sablon, as well as Port Muenier, on Anticosti Island. This would translate into about four full loads for the “Star”.
         I looked forward to seeing the Chief Engineer, Max Clarke, again, as he had relieved me in the capacity of second engineer in the tug Irving Birch at Halden, Norway on January 27,1980., so we knew each other a bit.
        I had just finished up four months in the R/V Lady Hammond, the last six weeks of which were spent on the west coast of Green Land. Scientists from the Bedford Institute of Oceanography and the Fisheries Research Station of St.Andrews N.B. conducted a  program on the Atlantic salmon, during this period.The company who owned the Hammond, Northlake Shipping, was not to my liking, so the the shift to Metro Fuels; Landrys company.
       I arrived on board about seven thirty and after breakfast went below to acquaint myself with the engine room.The day passed and we sailed about eleven that evening.
       The next day found us sailing up the coast toward Cape Breton, Cabot Strait and our first port of call, Blanc Sablon P.Q..We bought some cod from a  Charlos Cove boat, about eleven in the morning; there were three men on board, one of whom I knew; Bill Grover.
       Our cook was Ron Fraser, of Westmount, a son of Ossie Fraser, MLA, and off Guyon Island that afternoon, Ron received the sad news that his dad had passed away while attending the current setting of the legislature in Halifax. Ron asked the Captain if he would drop him off at the pilot station at Low Point (Sydney) but the Captain, Jules Gagnon, of Quebec City would not comply, saying that it would be too time consuming and too costly for the company, and he advised Ron he would have to stay on board until our arrival at Blanc Sablon, and so we steamed northward, arriving at Blanc Sablon on the 31rst of October, where Ron paid off, took the ferry to St.Barbe, thence by taxi to Deer Lake, NFLD, and from there by air to Sydney,arriving home barely in time to attend his dads funeral.
       We discharged 4000 barrels of fuel oil at Blanc Sablon and immediately sailed for our next port; St.Augustin, a few hours run to the south west.,arriving off that port at six o’clock in the evening.
        The Coast Guard had lifted the navigational buoys a few days previous; in fact, we had met the buoy tender Montcalm, working north eastward toward the mouth of Belle Isle Strait after we left Blanc Sablon
         To enter St. Augustin one has a choice of two channels, Passage Fournier or Passage Gagnon.These two passages lie four miles apart, east and west, Passage Gagnon being the easternmost. It was this entrance that Capt. Gagnon choose on that night.Among the many out lying dangers off the coast at this point is Wakeham’s Rock.About a mile from the entrance of Passage Gagnon it stands alone, rising from a depth of 18 fathoms,barely inside the twenty fathom line, it’s charted depth is 2 fathoms, three feet, for a total fifteen feet.The “Star” was drawing sixteen feet when we cleared Blanc Sablon.Game over!
       The moon was full that Hallow’een night and the air was clear and frosty,
and Gagnon, who had spent forty some years on the North shore of the Gulf, opined that he, with the full moon rising astern, could take the “Star” thru the serpentine Passage Gagnon leading to the oil dock which is situated on Cannery Island, using the day marks (wooden lattices,diamond shaped,painted with flourescent orange used in the manner of range lights) but carrying not lighted at the end of the navigation season and at 1800 hrs.(6:00 P.M) he took over the bridge from the chief mate and proceeded to enter the channel.
           I had been below to relieve the watch keeping engineer for supper, and having returned topside and having finished my meal, Max, the chief engineer, and  I were having a coffee and discussing old times and mutual acquaintances when the ship took the ground -------hard !  (Gagnon had misjudged his position by half the width of the ship) Our coffee was spilled and all the condiments on the saloon table were scattered, the door of the dessert fridge, not being secured flew open and disgorged its contents on the deck.
       Max and I took off for the  engine room Max arriving below well ahead of me, and was on the manouevering platform and in the process of restarting the main engine which the engineer on watch, not knowing what had happened, and imagining that he had had a crank case explosion, had shut down the engine., this could have been the means of the ship becoming lodged on the rocks of the ledge, but with the weight of being just about fully loaded and making thirteen and a half knots,she continued on over the rock and back into the channel,engine running or not
      Having come up from the engine room just before the incident, I knew the level of       the bilges, and immediately proceeded to check for any increase from the         grounding.looking first in the after bilge well, I found the level the same as when I last checked. I ran forward to check there and found nothing significant, but then looking aft I saw that the flywheel of the main engine was throwing water.
       The “Star’s” engine room bilges were comprised of four compartments, or “wells”.Port and starboard, engine bilge and after well. On investigation we found that the hull had been breached just forward and to starboard of the main engine.The water was entering the ship with enough force to lift the deck plate of heavy steel which was about  six feet above the hole.. 
       By now the second mate was on the scene and he and Max were having a discussion as to the damage we had suffered, and while they were thus engaged I was starting the bilge and general service pumps, Putting the former on the after well and the G/S pump on the engine well also the port and starboard forward wells. Max and I decided that the way the water was  gaining in the bilges,that the ship had about about a half hour to live; that is to say,before we lost our generators, which were situated in the lower level of the engine room. Max then advised the second mate to that effect and he in turn relayed this information to the captain on the bridge. The reason for all this running around by the mate was the fact that the bridge/engine room phone was out of order..
        Gagnon immediately gave orders for Max to increase the engine revs to maximum,as his intention was to beach the “Star” in a cove about five miles distant which had muddy bottom.This increase in revs brought the “Stars” speed up to a little over fifteen knots and while she made her way toward the land we sent the oiler up to the bridge to find out if there had been any other damage, and as we suspected when he returned he told us that the chief mate had told him that the hull was breached in number seven cargo tank and also in the pump room and as number seven was filled to capacity the deck crew had secured the vents and sounding pipes to prevent, if at all possible, any loss of oil to the sea.
         We grounded twenty-two minutes from the time that we gave the bridge maximum R.P.M. and seven minutes later the water had risen to a point were it was about three inches from the bottom of the generators housings, so we opened the breaker and shut down the unit (#1) that we had in service, plunging the ship in darkness and silence in the engine room except for the gurgling and bubbling of the inrushing water. Max; the engineer on watch, Serge Belanger, theoiler, Kevin Purcell, of Moncton, and I, lighting our way with flash lights, made our way out of the engineroom, wading through a mixture of oil and sea water, to our cabins were we began to pack our gear.
         The ship by now was rapidly settling in the soft mud of the coves bottom and continued to do so until only the bridge remained above the surface at high water.
         When the ship struck Gagnon, as soon as the amount of damage was ascertained, proceeded to send a Pan message, advising that the “Star”was in serious trouble, and that he was going to attempt to beach her, which was picked up by the Montcalm, laying off Forteau, also by Lewisport Coast Guard Radio who called the Gulf Oil agent Jackie Bateman in St. Augustine(Gagnon’s request) by land line to advise him of our predictament. Jackie having only C.B. (+ a H.F transceiver belonging ( to Gulf Oil) radio at his disposal had no way of reaching us for we did not have C.B. equipment on board the ship, nor did we have a high frequency set from Gulf. Jackie called the operator at Lewisport and had him call us and ask us to shoot a few flares so our rescuers could find us.After this had been accomplished and three flares had been fired at fifteen minute intervals we could hear the sound of out boards as the St.Augustinians made their way towards us through the myriad islands off the village,and before long they were alongside; Jackie asking in his inimitable way,”Why Captain, whatever happened??”
          As soon as the Star had come to rest in the cove both life boats were swung out and lowered into the water. One was loaded with our personal effects and one for personnel.In my memory I can still see the moon light reflecting off the boom boxes belonging to the younger crew members.
          Our mentors had arrived in two heavily built outboard powered skiffs which are generic to the Newfoundland and Labrador  coasts’as well as much of the North Shore of the “Gulf”.these particular boats were owned and operated by Henry Driscoll and as before mentioned, Jackie Bateman.
          Having secured our life boat painters to their sterns, leaving four men on board camping in the wheel house of the Star(to ward off would be salvors) we set off on the 
three mile tow to Jackie’s “place” as he would fondly refer to his office.This edifice was located immediately on shore from the fuel dock and in actual fact was a smallish one 
and a half story house once used as a summer dwelling for a fishermans family.Jackie used the down stairs rooms for storage of various parts, bits and pieces pertaining to his job as agent for Gulf Oil The upstairs was used by Jackie for living accomodations while he was at work on Cannery Island which lies southward of River Island and eight miles distant from the village of St.Augustin.
         We sat and stood(not enough chairs) drinking coffee, while Jackie talked to the Gulf office in Montreal, on the company set, advising them that the Star was aground.Gagnon declined to speak to his owners at this time,preferring the privacy of land line communications. 
         After the conclusion of his radio chat, we were ready for the trip up river.Our guys had transferred all our gear to Henry’s and Jackie’s boats and along with two more skiffs that had arrived from the village we embarked for the ride to town!
         In my life time I can say that I’ve had some cold trips in small boats, but that trip to the village in a sixteen footer in the teeth of a twenty  knot nor’wester, with minus six temperature will, I believe, be remembered as the coldest!
        The village of St.Augustin lies near the mouth and on the east bank of the river bearing the same name.The river delta is composed of sand bars and the water at the village docks is very shallow,only a few feet in depth.It was here that our boatmen deposited our shivering bodies.
        Jackie took a look at us and sung out,”Okay, me son’s, foller me!! He led us up the road, our sea bags on our shoulders until we came to the River View Motel.
        The St.Augustin river is famous for its Atlantic salmon fishing and this little motels main purpose in life was to accommodate anglers during the fishing season; so of course at that late date it was securely closed for the winter and the owner and his lady were probably happily visualizing a long southern vacation. Any ways, when we arrived the place was in darkness; Jackie pounded on the door of the owners suite all the while bellowing”Get up me son! You’ve got some guests!!”
       The guy came and opened the door.He must of thought he had died and gone to Heaven-------nineteen men to put up and he thought he was closed for the year! He soon called his lady as well as some of his laid off  kitchen staff and maids in from the village.The former crowd made up sandwiches and coffee while the maids got the linen out of storage and made up the beds.We all got a bunk and were glad to turn in, for it was now about 0100 hrs. on Nov. 1.
        The plan was to get out to the ship asap in the morning to relieve the guys standing watch on her,so right after breakfast the second mate,Victor Slater of Tyne Valley,P.E.I., along with myself and two of the seamen boarded Murdoch Driscoll’s thirty foot lobster boat and headed to the wreck.The guys were happy to see us,for sure, for they had spent a heatless night in the wheel house, with no way to make coffee and only flashlights for illumination.
         Max had opted to spend the night on board and after some discussion, it was 
decided that both he and I  return to the village to talk to the Metro office in Moncton to try and find out what if anything was coming down in the way of salvage operations and when we could expect to be relieved of the responsibility of standing watch on the 
wreck.Gagnon was so demoralized by the lost of his ship that he had withdrawn completely and kept his own council, talking to no one, so what should have been the captain’s responsibility now fell on Max.
            Moncton told us that we could expect to be relieved the next morning, as McAllister Towing of Montreal had the salvage contract and that they expected to be on site some time the following morning.Also the general manager for Metro Fuels,along with legal representation for the officers would be flying in to St Augustin that evening for the preliminary casualty investigation
            Morning of the third day found the Montcalm on standby near the wreck using her Zodiac to string a pollution boom around the Star(most of the oil from the engine room had by now dissipated)with only a faint sheen on the water astern,and also to transfer officials from Transport  Canada from the village to the Star.Also on hand was a Lloyd’s rep., a lawyer for Lloyd’s and the salvage master from McAllisters’
             Capt. Martin Marcotte was the chief investigator for Transport Canada and his first act upon boarding the wreck was to divest the chief officer of his certification.The reason for the latter action was because he(the mate) had been on watch at the time the incident occurred.Marcotte had no way of knowing at this point in time that Gagnon had taken over the watch, actually navigating hands on, as it  were.
             By mid morning the salvors had arrived and we of the Star’s crew who was on board returned to the village arriving there about lunch time.The innkeeper was in panic mode now, because his guest list had swelled to about forty two bodies, a little much for an eleven unit motel.It was decided to “hot bunk”sleep in shifts, as all hands would be required to be there until after the investigation. Four had arrived in Landrys Cessna 310 and six in the Transport Canada plane, including the pilots. McAllister’s had flown in some people as well.
            The preliminary casualty investigation was convened at once and while it was in progress Landrys pilot flew those of our crew not required to testify to Sept Iles, where they could get commercial flights to their homes.
           The inquiry ended in the evening of the second day and with Murdoch and and Jackie urging us to greater speed(the tide is fallin’ me sons!)we bid adieu to the River View and headed for home
           As Murdoch and Jackie had said the tide was getting down and half way across the river Murdochs 16 footer grounded on a sandbar and we all had to go over the side and wade her over it .Some cold on the feet and legs, man!!
          Upon reaching the plane we found it completely covered with frost. The pilot, a young guy from Riviere du Loup, opened a locker in the fuselage and come up with a bunch of scrapers.We started to work on the Cessnas wings and tail surfaces and after a bit of scraping the pilot allowed he’d give it a try, so we all got aboard. The pilot started the motors, melted a peep hole in the frosted wind shield with his hand, held her on the brakes, revved the engines ‘til she was shaking on her suspension, then he let off on the brakes and the 310 shot down the landing strip and lifted off very well when we hit the updraft over the river.
        Banking to starboard we passed over the village at a height of about 200 feet and thought we were on our way home, but we were forced to put down due to bad weather at  Sept Iles.,where the only accomodation available in town was at L’Auberge du                                                            
Gouvenures: nothing like the best!!We landed in Sept Iles around 0100hrs.and took off again about !500hrs the same day.Our next stop was Rimouski, P.Q., to drop off the fourth engineer and from there to Moncton where we spent the night.
       The next morning was clear and fine so I was flown to Port Hawkesbury, where I was met by my wife and we drove home, my employment future uncertain,though not for long.
       Max had stayed at the wreck site to provide technical assistance to McAllisters’ salvage master, re bulkhead locations, fuel bunker and lube oil storage tank locations,all of  which had to be known before the collision  patches could be put  in place.This being done Max was cleared to go and flew to his home in St.John’s NFLD.
         Metro’s general manager, Brian Ritchie was in touch with me the morning I arrived home to advise that Max and I would be working together on the Star during her repairs, should the salvage be successful, which turned out to be the case, for in five days time I was advised by Brian to met Maxs’incoming flight at Halifax and we were to proceed to Pictou, N.S. to meet the newly risen “Star”!  
       Max arrived on time and we started down to Pictou in a  snow storm,but ran out of it in Salt Springs.We were early and had lots of time for lunch before the tow arrived.
        One of Eastern Canadas tugs,I forget which,had towed the Star from the North Shore of the Gulf contracted to do so by McAllisters.She docked the wreck and promptly left for Halifax.
        Landry had bought the cargo remaining on board for a very nominal figure(we heard $0.85 per gallon) from the insurance and had a line of tank trucks on the wharf waiting to receive it.Therefore it fell to the engineers to get things up and running in a hurry,so the oil could be pumped off.
        Two contractors were on hand.One being Bill Wallace and crew from Musquodobit Harbour with pressure washers the other company was from Montreal dealing in chemical preservation of electrical components and machinery that has been immersed in sea water.They followed Bill’s crowd as they pressure washed their way below and Max, Kevin Purcell, the oiler and I, followed them.
         What a shocking mess!All the lube oil that had been in the various engine sumps had been displaced by sea water as the Star sank and had risen upwards though the engine casing(about 880 gallons in all)and everything was coated with black muck.The hot water from the pressure washers cut it to some degree but could’nt get all of it.
         Max asked me if I’d try and get the emergency air compressor started while he and Kevin worked at getting the two cargo pump engines ready.Air was of the highest 
priority, because without it no other motor on the ship could be started, because they were all air start except for the emergency compressor engine which was a three cylinder air cooled Ruston diesel developing about 30 h.p.it also was the mover for the emergency generator.It started with a hand crank.
         First move was to drain the oil/water mixture from the sump, flood the sump with fuel oil, drain it and refill with clean lube oil.Remove the injectors and hand crank the engine to clear the cylinders.Drain the fuel tank(and the line to the pump)refill with clean 
fuel,clean the air intake filter housing and install a new filter.I called Kevin over when had the little Ruston was ready to try and with Kevin(who has the strength of a bear)on the crank,myself with a propane torch at full flame playing into the air intake the other hand tending the compression release “she was away like a storm!”Warmed it up,changed oil again and while it was warming changed the oil in the compressor and made it ready to pump some air After two more oil changes in the Ruston we clutched it in and took and break for by now Max and Kevin had run through the same agenda with both the cargo pump engines
         We had a coffee brought down by the mate who had come down Shediac to act as pumpman in the event that we did get the engines running:We were held up now in any event, while we waited for the air to build up in the receivers.When the gauges showed 300 psi, Max guessed we try it and soon had both pump engines running finest kind. Three oil changes later (at around 2200hrs) we clutched them in and began pumping to the trucks.
         With a long night ahead we broke it up---four hours on, eight off.Kevin took the first four hours while Max and I headed for the hotel to get some sleep..

***

It is said that all that goes around, comes around. Perhaps if Gagnon had shown a little more compassion to Ron in his bereavement and run him in to Louisburg, or for that matter, Sydney, things might have gone differently for him that October evening when he so confidently pointed the bow of the “Metro Star” toward the  entrance of Passage Gagnon.
         He was cleared in the investigation and continued to captain Metro’s tankers and vessels of other companiies,until his retirement at age 76


***
 I stood by the "Star"whjle she had new bottom plates installed in Pictou Shipyard, and was then towed to Halifax, arriving there on December 12. After seeing her safely moored at Dook's Wharf, in Eastern Passage, I flew to Montreal on December 17 to releive Max as chief engineer on the “Seaway Trader."
                                                     


     We worked together through out the following winter on the “Stars” refit at Dooks wharf .,and took her out in the spring, once again to the North Shore of the Gulf.
            When Metro Fuels was terminated, the “Star” was sold foreign------I understand that she is still sailing in another Gulf; the Gulf of Mexico




          While I sailed for Metro Fuels Landry consistently gained the Gulf Oil charter for the North Shore year after year.Lower bids perhaps.The ports covered were: Port MeunierAnticosti, Havre St.Pierre, Natashquan, Romaine, Harrington,Whale Head, La Tabatiere, St Augustin and Blanc Sablon. It was an interesting run in all aspects and I made some good friends among “the French Newfoundlanders along that coast,whose forefathers had gone there in the summer cod fishery and had eventually settled there on a permament basis.Batemans, Driscolls, Haynes, Bursey and many more Newfoundland surnames abound along that  coast.
          May they live all live in peace.