A Winter Tow

                                                             

    During the winter of 1976 I was employed with Atlantic Towing Ltd., of St. John,N.B., in the capacity of third engineer on the ocean going tug  Irving Birch (now Atlantic Birch) we were on salvage standby and when required towed the oil barge Irving Sea Lion on coastwise voyages.

    That winter is noted for two remarkable storms, the first of which was on Ground Hog Day, the second on St.Patricks Day.,  and we came through the first storm while tied up in St. John, at Broad Street wharf.

    I had to replace a faulty hose on the hydraulic anchor windlass that morning and rhe wind struck from the south east while I was on the forecastle head still working at that job. Increasing by the minute, it didn’t take a rocket scientist to see that this was going to intensify into a much bigger blow than the forecasters were calling for.

   By mid afternoon the wind had increased to hurricane force and the spume was so thick over Courtenay Bay that one could only see the booms of the cranes in the dry dock, mountainous seas were pounding the breakwater and the spray was driving across to our berth.The tug was pitching to such an extent, that the skipper ordered the main engine started up slow ahead to take as much strain as possible off the lines because by now Broad Street wharf had become a living entity, twisting and lifting, threatening  to pull its pilings from the mud and disintegrate.

     A dredge and several scows owned by Verrault Navigation of Mechins P.Q. laying at the northern end of the wharf  had parted their lines and driven up the bay and stranded on the flats south of the causeway.

      Later that evening after the wind had veered to the  sou’west a Greek freighter anchored out in the Bay parted her anchor chains and grounded between the breakwater and Red Head. We and the Irving Beech were dispatched to render assistance.We got our tow wires on board him and soon had him afloat and in the harbour.

    St. John was a write off---power and phone lines down, trees uprooted causing structural damage to private dwellings and the business sector.The whole of south western Nova Scotia and the Bay of Fundy region was in a like condition, with damage in the millions of dollars, particularly hard hit were fishing installations and other marine infrastructure.

    We made several trips with the Sea Lion down the Eastern Seaboard to Fall River Mass and River Head N.Y. and one to Halifax which resulted in the loss of a brand new tow wire. Then shortly after having the second new wire of the winter installed at Long Wharf we received orders to take the barge to the Crib Wharf to load for St. John’s Nfld,  and  with a full load of petroleum products in her tanks, we towed the  Sea Lion out past Partridge Island, every one on board the tug hoping for a good time along.

    This however, was not to be, because before we had passed Grand Manan,  the forecasters were saying that there was a deepening low off Cape Hatteras and storm force north easterlies were forecast for all the Atlantic region, so Albert decided to shelter from that one in Shelburne.
    Here I might digress for a moment with the mention of the name “Albert.” Those of you who have read Farley Mowat’s “The Grey Seas Under”will remember Wally Myalls the indomitable skipper of the Foundation Franklin------Albert was Wally’s son and  had apprenticed under him where he had learned his lessons well; becoming a legend in his own time and was respected for being the best tug handler on the east coast (and probably the west coast as well) He sailed as master with Atlantic Towing for some fourteen years, earning the respect of the owners, his contemporaries, and all who sailed under his command. This quiet and unassuming native of Jersey Harbour Newfoundland (and later of Rose Bay, N.S.,) was certainly a gentleman who anyone would be proud to know…

    After the low had passed down outside, we got under way again on the back of the nor’wester that invariably follows these cyclonic lows, and with the Sea Lion following along behind us, we made our way up the coast at our usual speed for towing the Sea Lion of six and one half knots.

    By the time we were abeam of Country Harbour the forecasters were at it once again about a weather system coming down over Ontario and it was expected to pass over Quebec and Labrador. Most of the southern areas were calling for gale to storm force sou’west winds.

    Once again Albert put her in. This time our haven was Mira Bay. The low pressure did just what the meteorologists’ said it would, and when the wind started to drop out on the afternoon of March 16 we got the hook once more and started out on a course of 102 degrees magnetic for Cape Race, a distance of 200 nautical miles or about thirty four hours run.

    About 15 hours on our way in the Laurention Channel  the coast stations started to broadcast weather warnings. The low had stalled over the Labrador Sea and was expected to intensify and all marine areas south and east of Newfoundland were forecast to have hurricane force winds from the sou’west. That was no big surprise to us because the barometer was falling extremely fast and the wind had started to increase with astonishing rapidity.

    We kept on truckin’----we had no choice---- and twenty four hours after leaving the shelter of Mira Bay, we found ourselves on the shallow water of St. Pierre Bank, and I’m here to tell you, it was nota good place to be!

     The wind and sea had increased to a  point were Albert had slowed the main engine to it’s minimum revs and was trying to keep the tugs stern to wind and swell

    I went up to the bridge just before dusk to have a look at the situation, and Albert said to me,” Did you ever see anything like this”? and I replied that I never had,  and Albert, who was my age within a month or two,  replied,”No, and I never did, either”

     It was blowing so hard from the west sou’west that visibility was down to about one quarter mile in the driving spray; and the wave height, on the shoal water of the Bank was unbelievable. Our anemometer  could register to 85 knots and about half the time the hand was on “the pin.”

      The seas would hit the loaded barge and explode as though they were hitting shoreline cliffs and the pump men, two Germans who had defected from an East German factory trawler during the Cold War were telling us on the vhf that she was taking it very well, but “rolling a liddle bit, yah?”

     The sea kept building and Albert had swung the tug off before the wind earlier, so that we were now heading toward the sou’western  part of the Burin Peninsula and with the weight of the barge on her the tug was being pooped by every sea. The tumult was horrendous; the screaming of the wind could be heard as the roar of a train and the seas hitting her from astern were like the detonation of bombs.

    So it went; and at  1920 hrs., after taking the biggest wave yet (water actually came into the engine room through the fan room louvers, which were located high in the funnel) Albert called the engine room for the tow winch hydraulics and said we had parted our tow wire, which I guess, wasn’t entirely unexpected. Albert had been looking out the after windows of the wheel house and told me later that he estimated the wave that parted our wire to be seventy feet in height.

    Albert called the barge and told them that they were adrift and although he was sorry there was no way he could turn the tug to stand by them. Paul came back saying they understood the situation, and if Albert would excuse him, he thought they had better make tea before they lost their stove, ”because der vater is komming in.”Albert called St. Lawrence Coast Guard Radio to advise them that the Sea Lion was adrift with her crew on board and gave them the position.

    We had had the main engine running at dead slow ahead for a couple of hours and at 70 rpm the tug was still making 7 knots-----toward the beach!

    The low was moving again-----fast; and the wind started to veer from the nor’west, this created one very confused sea state and it was one hand for one’s self and one for the ship. Albert gradually swung the tug so as to keep her stern to the wind and until the wind                          
had been had been from the nor’west for some time, the tug rolled horribly .With the change of wind direction came the cold. The temperature dropped to about minus 15, and even though we were running off it, we started making ice, because the water was drifting like snow.

    We had long before lost radio contact with the barge and didn’t know why (it proved later to be the loss of their antenna with a wave) and now due to the icing of our whip antennas we had lost contact with St.Lawrence Radio as well.The radar was virtually useless because of sea clutter and soon the scanner iced up after the temperature dropped, so we made our way off that howling nor’wester, toward Cape Pine; mute and blind.

   Around four o’clock on the morning of March 18 the wind started to drop out and an hour later was registering 60 knots but the swell was still mountainous.Albert estimated it to be averaging 50 feet. But, worried about the barge and her crew, he decided to bring the tug about at 0730 hrs...He called the engine room and said he was going to full revs for a few minutes and to hold on because “she’s going to roll !” The roar of the Polar diesel deepened as the pitch came on the propeller, and the revs came up. Albert had judged the seas like the excellent ship handler that he was and the tug came into the wind without a problem.

    ,Now jogging into the teeth of the nor’wester, she was doing better comfort-wise.We even managed some breakfast of sorts, after which we went at the ice, most of which was frozen on the after sampson  posts ,the boom, shrouds, and of course all the antennas and other gear on top the wheel house and on the foremast. Working with safety lines on, we concentrated on the radar scanner and the whip antennas for the mf and vhf radios. There was a lot of the higher ice we couldn’t get, but we did clear the antennas and we soon had “eyes, a voice, and ears.”

   Albert talked to Argentia Radio and they said that no one had reported the barge, even though several ships had passed through the area that night. Albert ,who more than once had found derelict ships in mid Atlantic, had every confidence that he could find the barge without too much trouble. According to our Loran bearing we were 65 miles from where we parted the tow.Albert barely kept steerage way on the tug because of the freezing spray, but ,never the less we inched our way forward and at 1500 hrs, we picked up the signal from the transponder on the barge, at a range of twenty five miles.

    We closed the gap that evening and was up to the barge at 2300 hrs..There was no hurry, because the wind and sea state wouldn’t allow a hook-up. We stood by the barge all night, anxious for dawn to break so we could see how the the Sea Lion had weathered it. There was still no answer on the vhf.

       Morning light finally came to St Pierre bank and we were amazed to see the condition of the Sea Lion. Except for the boiler stack the barge  was completely sheathed in ice to such an extent that it obliterated any indentifying  features, except as I said before, the stack. Had it not been that she was loaded with oil and as a loaded barge had very little free board and no super structure she could well have rolled over. There was  no sign of Peter and Paul ( nick named The Apostles by the employees of Atlantic Towing ) as the seas swept across this barge cum iceberg.

    At 1000 hrs,  Albert thought he’d try to hook-up,  but without men on deck on the barge to assist, the out look in that regard was rather bleak. Albert made a pass by the barge as close in as he dared and sounded the horn repeatedly. After about a half hour we watched the ice on the accommodations  door fall off and Peter and Paul stepped out on deck.It was great to see that they had survived the night.Realizing that the door was sealed by ice they had applied steam to the inside and melted their way out.  The wind had been decreasing all the while,so by the time that Peter and Paul had rigged steam hoses and melted out the Sea Lions’ windlass and forward bits(one thing about the Sea Lion,she had lots of steam available).it had dropped down to about thirty knots and the swell flattening out, conditions were’nt that bad for getting the wire over to them.We went to windward of them and shot the messenger line aboard,Peter and Paul fed it round the capstan of their windlass and soon had our spare wire shackled to the barges’ spare bridle.We steamed out some scope, set the brakes on the tow winch,and were on the road again.

    There were bad vibes aboard the tug about the spare wire---it was old and should have been changed and probably would have been before taking an ocean towing contract.Anyway,Albert said perhaps if we did’nt get too much weather we might get her to St.John’s on it.The other wire ,the one we had parted was new and we still had enough on the drum to tow with but did not have a kit to install the end fitting,or hard eye,the finished end on the wire.

    We slogged along that day and throughout the night and the following morning the wind came up with the sun.From the sou’west; gale force and then some.We parted the old wire around noon and this time Albert did’nt fool around, because although we had a bit of sea room we were still on a lee shore.So he told the mate to get the boys to rig the grapnel and he would try the “insurance wire.”The Sea Lion had on her starboard topsides 1200 feet of 2.5 inch wire arranged in loops laid forward and aft and tack welded to brackets on the barges’ plates made fast  forward to a set of bridles and the after end finished in a hard eye which in turn had 200 feet of two inch polypropylene rope and on the end of this was a Norwegian inflatable buoy fastened to the rope by a heavy duty swivel and is towed astern.In event of the loss of an unmanned barge the tow can be remade by grappling the rope, putting the tug stern to the barge and winching first the rope then the wire unto the tugs winch drum,then steaming away breaking the spot welds,until the wire comes to the bridle and the tow is under way.

    This is the method we employed now to hook up and without a hitch we were on our way within two hours, secure in the knowledge that we had the barge on a good wire and with the prevailing forecast it looked like a sure bet for St.John’s.

    It never rains but it pours. We just got abeam Cape Race when we picked up a severe knock in the main engine; a very unnerving knock due in part to the loudness of it and due also to the fact that we knew exactly what was causing it ……a bottom end bearing had failed, probably #5 by the location when we put the stethescope on the crankcase door.

    The Birch was powered by a nine cylinder Swedish Polar 2 stroke 4000 hp heavy duty engine. The crank shaft journals were thirteen inches diameter.the bottom end bearings weighed close to eight hundred pounds each( bottom and top ends along with the connecting rod and piston weighed one ton) the top and bottom end bearing.were babbitted and had had to be sent to a foundry to be re-babbitted. The supplier that Atlantic Towing was using were not equipped to do this operation properly, hence the bearing metal were only had about sixty per cent adhesion to the shell and were getting an inordinately high failure rate. Four Irving vessels were fitted with these engines so the problem was wide spread as the bottom ends in all the engines were defective.

    As we steamed on toward St.John’s the knocking worsened and was plainly heard throughout the ship.It turned out that we had two  bottom end bearings gone with only enough bearing metal left in #5 to prevent crankshaft damage.I still have a piece of Babbitt in my possession from that incident measuring about two square inches.
    We changed out the failed bearings;  having only one spare bottom end on board, we had another shipped in from St. John and got fixed up engine-wise but had to wait for our return to St.John to get a new tow wire (the Birch’s wires were 4000 feet long)

    The trip back to New Brunswick was uneventful; March had melded into April and finer weather; and an easier life for tow boat men!













                                                                                                                                   
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