Part 31: “It Doesn’t Look Good” – All the Men In the Sea, The Untold Story of One of the Greatest Rescues in History
We Have to get Out
Shortly after 1600 the Ducker Tide finally appeared. The only boat that had answered their calls for help looked like she might not reach them. Smashing through waves and pitching over them, then plowing into the troughs until her pilothouse was covered in spray, it seemed as though she herself might go down. A handful of men in the tower and all those congregated on the walkway watched her arrive. Over his hand-held VHF, Richard Lobb advised her captain, “It doesn’t look good. It looks like we have to get out.” This was Lobb’s last radio transmission. He and a small contingent of foremen and assistants pushed their way through the group of men on the walkway. The 269 was leaning far to starboard, and the tower could be buried under the barge should she capsize. What was now high above the deck could suddenly be far below the deck.
While no abandon ship order was broadcast it spread by word of mouth and in minutes everyone knew that they had to leave the sinking ship. Courtesy Tim Noble
Others left the tower as well. Only Steve, Rozy, and Kevin remained. They watched the men on the tower walkway follow the superintendent’s group toward the bow. The three men listened as one by one the captains of the tug and the two supply boats called in, requesting directions from Lobb. “Where do you want me?” one captain called. “Where do you need us?” another asked. Neither Lobb nor anyone from the barge responded. The calling went on with no answer. Finally, Kevin over his hand-held called Lobb. “Richard, where do you want the boats? I need to know where you want the boats. The boats are callin’ in, can’t you hear ’em?” Lobb never replied. On deck in the howling wind he wasn’t able to hear anything. Kevin watched him throw his radio overboard.
Start Picking Up People
Finally Kevin himself responded to the boats, telling them to stay downwind, that this was where the men would drift. Of course the captains already realized it, and two had positioned their vessels to the southeast of the barge. There were so many men in the water now that the captains were afraid to get close to the sinking 269. In waters so filled with swimmers it would be all too easy to suck men in their props while they were attempting to rescue others.
At 1640 hours the leaden skies already made it seem like dusk. Sunset was only an hour off, and near the equator darkness soon follows. The stern of the 269 was sinking quickly, and her bow was pointing more and more like a diagonal arrow toward the hidden stars. Richard Lobb had made the decision. While there was some light left for the two tugs to see men in the water, they must abandon ship. On the Captain John, Robert Trosclair was talking to Chuck Denning. The captain paused in his transmission. When he came back on, he said, “Chuck, I have to break with you now. They advised me that they’re fixing to abandon the barge. It’s sinking. They asked me to stand by to start picking up people. Do you copy? Over.” “Roger, Roger, I read you fine, Robert. I’ll stay in the office and be here if you need me or if anything needs to be relayed to anybody. Good luck, Robert! KZJ930, Morgan City base with the Captain John, Whiskey-Charley-Yankee 5568—clear.”
How the Hell
Robert’s final comment was “Chuck, I don’t know how it’s all gonna come out and if I’m going to be able to rescue those people, but I’m sure going to give it a try. Captain John, Whiskey-Charley-Yankee 5568 to Morgan City base—clear.”
Chuck looked at the microphone in his hand and wondered: With over 200 people in the water, with 80- or 90-mile-an-hour winds and with 35- or 40-foot seas, how in the hell are those boats going to rescue those people? He might have added: How in the hell are those captains going to keep their boats from rolling over while they’re trying to rescue those people?