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Capt Schultz Part 2:

 Part 2 of Tidbits:

Thirty six hours prior to the arrival of the Britannia at Snell Lock, (the first American lock on the seaway arriving from seaward) I would find myself as an Armed Sentry, against terrorists to the Queen, and all threats, both foreign and domestic.
     The RCMP and FBI had made the decision to shut down all traffic on the river, 24 hours prior to the queen’s arrival at any point along the seaway. All shipping would be required to either anchor, or directed to mooring cells.  In addition to escorts by RCMP and USCG vessels, the Britannia would have helicopter air cover, and all locks searched by divers, prior to locking thru.
      During one of my tours standing watch at the perimeter gate, I had a brief conversation with a St. Lawrence River Pilot, who was Canadian, and awaiting a vessel’s arrival at the lock. He had informed me, that being assigned the position of Pilot for the Britannia was not considered preferred duty, and that the chosen individual had been given the dubious honor, only after lots had been drawn. In addition to all the prodocal that was maintained, usage of deck machinery was not allowed when the queen was aboard. This being do to the noise and vibration it created. Rather than disturbeing Her Highness in such a manor, 20 deckhands would be used, heaving on a mooring line, rather than a winch.
     Shortly prior to the closer of the lock, for inspection by divers, an old Greek Freighter arrived for lockage up bound. The ship had the appearance of a very neglected, rusted out vessel that was long overdue for the breakers. Having been relieved only minutes earlier from my watch at the gate, I paused to leisurely observe, the freighter enter the empty lock. The ship probably had no more than 2 or 3 knots of way on, and her mooring lines had already been received and secured to the bollards on either side of the lock. With a loud blast of air that split the silence, there followed a noise generated from pistons cycling within her diesel engine room, and then silence.
      Having an antequated Direct Reverse Diesel Propellsion system, the process of shifting the engine was not a simple task. The engine first having to be stopped, the camshaft manually reset, and then restarted by usage of compressed air being injected directly into the cylinders.
     In this case however, the discharge of compressed air failed to have the desired affect, with reverse failing to materialize. After a brief pause, the process started again, and failed, as it did for several more attempts, until all of the compressed air available was exhausted. The ship moving forward with all its mass and momentum towards the closed lock door, holding back 35 feet of the river’s elevation. With this, the deckhands, aboard the vessel, would attempt to check its forward movement, by further taking a strain on the cable moorings.  Loud cracking sounds began to be emitted from the various cables as they were stretched to their limit; being the last warning, prior to complete failure. As lock wall, lock tenders ran for cover, seeking refuge from the  above on the pending parting of a cable, and the risk of being cut in half by its strands.  Being ignorant of the warning, and the danger, I stood by casually observing the entire event, ignoring the yelling and motioning made towards me.
     When the locks were designed, the possibility of such an event had been considered. Subsequent safe guards were built into the lock to prevent a freighter from crashing into a lock door and creating a junior Niagara Falls.  When entering an empty lock, a cement sill can be observed at the foot of the closed lock door. This barrier is impassable with the lock empty. However, once the downriver door is closed, and the lock flooded, the vessel floats clear of when exiting the lock.
     In this event, the mooring cables never came to parting, as the ship came to a complete halt after smashing into the sill. Had there been a Richter scale available, it probably would have recorded a point eight.
     As a rather rare occurrence at any lock, those entrusted with the safety of the queen, were now of belief that the event was an act of sabotage. Should the down river lock additionally be disabled after the Britannia locking thru it, the ship would be stranded within a short interval of the river, and completely at the mercy of terrorists.
     A tug is promptly dispatched to move the disabled ship, and the lock half filled to immobilize it, awaiting their arrival. Like the ship, the crew was a reflection of another era. While probably excellent sailors, they had an appearance of a very unsavory group. All carried knives, sheathed to their belts, like most deckhands aboard any vessel plying the oceans of the world, however this group additionally carried honing stones. During times of boredom, or idle moments, they would pass the time by sharpening their blades. I can still recall watching one such sailor, seated on a cargo hatch, work at making a sharp blade sharper. With the lock half raised, the main deck of the ship was nearly level with the lock wall. The distance between the two of us was probably less than 30 feet. Pausing, he glanced about, and fixed his sight upon the bleached white uniform of one of Uncle Sam’s Combat Commandos: “Me!” I can still recall his smile, and the chill that ran down my back as he stared at me. For a bounty of ten dollars, I was certain that this fellow would have slit my throat.
      With the arrival of the tug, the lock was lowered and the down river door opened, allowing the lethal vessel to be towed from the lock. As added security, to prevent any further wrongdoing, one FBI Agent and one Coast Guardsman being place aboard, until passage of the Britannia.
        Having the belief that I would have to defend myself from its crew of cutthroats, I barricaded myself, on the bridge of the ship with by back against the bulkhead. It would be the longest night of my life.
      The transit of the Britannia thru Snell Lock was uneventful. The vessel was given a slow lockage, in an attempt to keep from scratching its polished hull, and those individuals who had a need to be within the immediate working area, were instructed to turn their backs to the ship. “God save the Queen,” should some sailor see the queen in her nightie thru a porthole. Exiting the lock, the ship would scrape against a piling, scratching its gloss finish. Within minutes of this, a sailor would be observed hanging over the side in a Bosun’s Chair, painting out the blemish as the vessel proceeded up bound.    
     Back on the river it is now Nov.2nd, and I am awaiting lockage with 4 other pleasure craft at Pickwick Lock. As a tug and barge clears, headed up bound, we are given clearance by the lockmaster to enter. Three of the boats, and myself tie-off without delay or difficulty, and report secure over the radio. The remaining boat, a 40-foot Sea Ray, is however having a bad day of it. Twenty- five minutes after entering the lock, they are still attempting to put a line around a stationary floating bollard. With the husband at the throttles, and the wife on the bow, you would think at it was blowing 70 knots. with a number nine sea running. The lockmaster is now showing signs over the radio, of the impaticiece, I have been attempting to suppress, for the past 15-20 minutes. The husband’s transmission to the lockmaster; “She keeps missing the bollard,” is beyond my ability to control, and I make the flipent transmission on the lock frequency: “Blame her!”
     Watching this entire gaggle unfold is a bit extreme. Offering assistance to their plight, the lockmaster suggests, that they secure alongside the blue & white hull tug. Since Restless, is ringed with traditional rope fenders, as well as bow & stern puddin’s, it would seem the likely choice, of where to direct someone with a broken rudder, or about to flounder.  Except no one has asked me, and there is no way, that I am about to have Barnicle Bill within 100’ of my boat. Fortunately, before I can make the transmission; “Quarantine, Restless has Tyfoid aboard!” a line is finally made secure.
     November 3rd, finds me alone on the river, approaching Jamie Whitten lock. The lock doors are open and the green light to enter, await my approach from a considerable distance up stream. I report secure, on the lock frequency, and the doors close within minutes. Ten minutes goes by and there has yet to be any indication of the river getting any lower. Looking aft, I observe the lock doors opening, and am informed by radio that there will be a delay for a yacht that has just cleared the previous lock. Fifty- five minutes later, the lockmaster finally finds the button labeled: “Empty.”
     There is a preference to lockage on the rivers; first, Military, then Law Enforcement and Government, followed by Commercial. Next in line are the people who made it all happen by paying for it: “You, the taxpayer!”
     November 4th is just another day locking thru on the river. At the Glover Wilkens lock, Restless and another boat hold position near the entrance, as a tug and barge clears the lock up bound. Once vacant however, we are informed that the lock is awaiting the down bound tug & barges, that we both had passed earlier, and is just now coming into view around the bend in the river.
     The length of the train is in excess of the lock, requiring the tug to disconnect and then move into the lock alongside its barges. After an hour and thirty-five minutes, the lock is finally sent back up, and we are cleared to enter. Fearing that questioning the lockmaster’s decision’s, will result in a further delay, I wait until the lock is headed down, and then inquire on the lock frequency, if there is some ruling, which prevents commercial and pleasure craft from locking thru together. Had the other boat and myself been allowed to enter the lock after the tug had disconnected and back off, there would have been sufficient room for all to have locked thru together. I receive the reply; “That’s left to the discression of the lockmaster.”
     Exiting the lock, we both once again pass, the same tug and barges, and arrive at the Amory lock well ahead of them. We await their arrival here too. However lock thru together.

 

Capt Bob |15:10 EST |Comments (0)

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