Part 51: Cargo Net – All the Men In the Sea
Rescued Men
With Eulalio Zapata still by himself on the afterdeck, Richard Cassel tried to bring the Carolina on the lee side of a swimmer so that the man would be swept into them. Sometimes this was on the side where the cargo net hung, and then the swimmer might be able to climb the net by himself, or at least with Zapata’s help. Just as frequently, however, a man drifted into the port side, and then the mate had to lean far over the bulwarks, grasping the man by the arm, the life preserver, the shirt, even by the hair, and haul him over the side. Rescued men on deck knelt, crying and thanking God. A couple of guys hugged each other, sobbing over their salvation. Some were like zombies, lethargic and in shock. They staggered aimlessly around the deck until one of the seamen leaped out, scrambling over the slippery, careening deck, and led them below before they could get washed back over the rail. Once in a while one or two of the Carolina‘s crew dashed out and tossed a preserver at the end of a line to a man in the sea, then darted back to the safety of the deckhouse. For the most part, though, Eulalio says he was alone at the rail, single-handedly bringing people onboard.
Zapata felt like a tightrope walker as he tried to pull people in; one false step and he’d be over the side. And just as he feared, his luck soon ran out. He was reaching out to a swimmer when a wave lifted him right over the bulwarks. Hanging from his safety line, he fought and clawed, trying to pull himself back onboard.
Scuttled
While he was dangling over the side, one of the deckhands who had seen him go over slipped out and threw him a life preserver, then scuttled back to safety. The life preserver trailed in the water, far out of Eulalio’s grasp. Finally he was able to pull himself back over the rail, where he knelt and clutched a stanchion until he could regain his strength. The next time he was swept overboard he landed right on top of the cargo net and was able to climb back on deck fairly easily. Still, he did not know how much more he could take. He felt himself getting weaker and weaker. But in a strange way he had forgotten his fear. He had forgotten his family. He had forgotten everything but what he knew he had to do: grab the frightened swimmers and bring them onboard.
In The Water
One man that Zapata rescued would always stand out in his mind. Santos Pitalua Mazaba was a rigger on the 269. He had one of the flat life jackets with little flotation left, so he had been forced to swim to keep himself afloat. By the time the Carolina found him, Santos was exhausted and had no strength left in his arms. Also, he was heavy and not in good physical condition. When Eulalio saw Santos in the water, he threw him a line and pulled him in close to the tug. Still holding the line, Zapata reached down to grasp Pitalua’s arm. It was slippery, coated with oil, and he couldn’t maintain a grip on it. The boat rolled away, and when it rolled back, Eulalio reached out again to grab his hand. The rigger stuck the line in his mouth so that he would have both hands free to grasp Eulalio’s outstretched hand. As the tug began to roll away again, only the line held Santos to the vessel. Before he could grab it again, he was jerked away from the Carolina and the line tore out all his front teeth. Another large wave swept Santos back toward the tug’s deck, and that momentum finally enabled Eulalio to haul him in over the side.
Santos lay bleeding on the deck. As Eulalio got him to his feet and steered him below, he asked, “Are you going to be all right?” Though blood was still gushing out of his mouth, Santos replied, “Si, gracias. My teeth I can replace, but not my life.”