by Buzz Harcus
Harry looked at the jumbled mess and shook his head. "Hell, if I did that I'd never get all the parts back together again."
Peter smiled at the remark, turned and walked away placing the binoculars to his eyes, scanning the horizon. "Sir," the electrician ventured. "I must go to der electrical shop for a part. Vun unit is broken. I know I fixed it before, but it is broken again."
"Go. Be qvick about it!" Peter retorted harshly. "Der damned ting should haf been fixed right days ago."
For a moment it appeared the man was about to argue the point but thought better of it and beat a hasty retreat from the bridge.
Harry watched amused. The poor guy had worked on the damned unit so many times he probably thought he'd fixed it. Turning back to steering the ship, he casually glanced out the port window as he did routinely during the watch, and then forward. All of a sudden his head snapped back to the left as he suddenly realized that the lights of the distant villages along the shoreline were being eclipsed by a large wall topped with moving lights.
Harry dashed to the port wing door and jerked it wide open. "Oh, my God!" he exclaimed, eyes wide with fright, the color draining from his face. "Oh, my god!" he repeated.
"Vas is?" Peter asked.
"A ship! A goddamned big sonofabitchin' ship is right on top of us!" Harry yelled dashing back inside, instinctively grabbing for the handles of the telegraph. "Peter, we've got to give the order to reverse engines immediately. We're on a collision course!"
"Stop! Don't!" Peter commanded.
"But we'll hit them broadside!" Harry yelled over his shoulder at Peter, and then froze. Peter was aiming a pistol at him.
"What th-" Harry started.
"Step back, Harry. Move avay from der telegraph."
"For God's sake, Peter. Use your senses!" Harry screamed looking beyond the gun aimed at his head to the man. "We're on a collision course. We'll all be killed!"
"I know," Peter said calmly, advancing toward him holding the gun in his face. "Jus' step back a bit furder," he motioned with the gun forcing Harry to step away from the telegraph. "Dat's it, und don't try anyting stupid. You vill die vun vay or der odder."
"You?" The message in the cable suddenly made sense: "to the successful sinking of Nurad."
"They promised you a captaincy if you sank Nurad." he gasped. "Ernst was your partner! You killed him!"
"Yes, it vas necessary. He vas no longer useful to us, more of a detriment dan anyting."
"But what about your shipmates? Your friends? If you crash the ship you'll kill all of them."
"No. You vill kill dem. Ernst said you brought a curse to der ship, dat dey vould all die. If anyvun should happen to survive, dat's vat dey vill tell der autorities."
"You'll die, too. When we collide, you'll be killed along with the rest of us."
A harsh laugh escaped Peter. "No. I von't die." He pointed to a large package in the corner of the wheelhouse. "My escape raft. You see, Harry, I haf planned dis out carefully. I had broken der radar earlier before you came on duty. By a stroke of luck, I happened to see dis big ship on der scope at dat time. Ven der ships collide und der Nurad sinks vis all hands, as I haf planned, I vill be der only survivor. Ven I am picked up from my raft I vill tell dem I realized you intended to sink der ship. Ve struggled und I had to kill you vhile you ver lashing der vheel for a collision course. Only trough der grace of God vas I able to survive und launch a life raft."
"You'll never get away with it!"
"But I vill." Peter reached into his pocket pulling out a thin nylon line and threw it at Harry. "Please lash der vheel."
Harry automatically reached out to catch the line and then let it fall to the deck. "No dice. I won't do it."
"Do it or I'll shoot you right vere you stand?"
"Screw you." Harry stood his ground, not moving. Not a muscle twitched as his eyes stared right into Peter's eyes.
"Do it!" Peter snapped, agitated at Harry's rebuff, a crack appearing in his composure. "Tie der damned vheel!" He stepped forward aiming the pistol at his head. "I am not fooling!"
"Shoot. Shoot me and you'll have a room full of company up here so fast it'll make your head spin," Harry shot back, bluffing, doubting that anyone would hear a single shot.
"Damn you!" Peter screamed charging at him, swinging the pistol down at his head. Harry ducked catching the blunt of the blow on his shoulder.
"My God!" a voice screamed. Peter glanced at the direction of the voice. The electrician had returned standing wide-eyed.
Taking advantage of the distraction, Harry spun about lashing out with his foot, kicking Peter's hand and sending the pistol clattering across the steel deck.
Peter flung himself after the gun. Harry was right on top of him in a split second, both of them struggling for possession of the weapon. Peter's finger curled in the trigger guard. Harry grasped his wrist in a vise-like grip, smashing his hand hard on the deck. The gun went off with an ear-shattering explosion punching a hole in the door to the starboard wing. A second shot screamed past Harry's head ricocheting off the overhead.
"Vat's going on here!" came the thundering voice of Captain Andress, bursting into the wheelhouse, jerking up his pants over his pajama bottoms with one hand while trying to snap a suspender over his shoulder onto his pants with the other. "Stop! Dat is an order!"
Peter automatically stopped at his captain's command before he realized his error. In that instant, Harry smashed a right cross to his chin knocking him backwards where he sprawled unconscious against the front of the wheelhouse.
"Vat der hell is happening?" Captain Andress demanded. "Vy are you fighting?"
"We're on a collision course with another ship!" Harry yelled. "The damned thing's right on top of us!"
Captain Andress glanced out the port window. "Shit!" he exclaimed seeing the gravity of the situation. In one quick move, he rushed to the telegraph, racking the handles around, throwing them into reverse engine position.
"Their damned lights blended with the shore lights," Harry cried out. "I caught sight of them visually at the last minute."
"The vheel," he called to Harry. "Ve must turn der ship avay!"
Both men turned to the task, their powerful hands grasping the wheel, spinning it around, holding it far over, praying the huge ship would respond in time to avoid a collision.
"Hold it hard over," the captain gasped, releasing his grip, moving to the control panel where he slammed his hand hard against the ship's klaxon. In the same motion, he grabbed for the ship's whistle, frantically sending a series of sharp, spine-tingling blasts across the water.
"You vill all die!" Peter screamed, rising from the corner, pistol in hand. "You vill all die!" The pistol jerked. Harry felt a momentary sting at his shoulder.
A second shot rang out. It was a louder sound. Harry glanced to his left. Captain Andress was holding a smoking .45 caliber automatic. Turning back to Peter, he saw him leaning back against the bulkhead slowly slumping downwards, an incredulous look on his face as he clutched at his chest. Bright blood oozed out between his fingers.
"Are you okay, Harry?" Captain Andress asked, rushing to his side, his gun still aimed in Peter's direction.
"Yes. He nicked me," he replied with only a quick glance at his shoulder, seeing a small patch of blood. "But I'm okay."
"Good." Dropping the gun into his pocket, Captain Andress threw his considerable bulk to the task of helping Harry turn the ship. "Now ve vork!"
Grunting, straining, they held the wheel as far over as it would turn. Harry could sense a change in the ship; it was slowly starting to turn. His eyes were transfixed on the on-coming ship, unable to turn away. He could hear the terrible blaring of the klaxon and the screeching sound of their whistle. It was a terrifying sound clutching to the depths of his soul.
"We're doing it," he grunted to the captain. "We're turning!" It was met by an agreeing grunt.
Nurad was shuddering at the sudden reversal of its engines, begrudgingly responding to
the dictates of its master. All motion at the moment seemed stilted, as if in slow motion. Yet, slowly, agonizingly slowly, Nurad was responding. The huge screws were grabbing up tons of water, churning it into seething, frothing pools as the ship began turning.
The vessel vibrated and groaned, straining with the demands placed upon it. But it was turning. There was no doubt of it as Harry could see, could sense it happening. Maybe there was a chance after all, just maybe.
With a sense of desperation, the two watched as the huge wall of steel moved closer out of the darkness of night, its deck suddenly ablaze with lights as it moved ever closer. Now they could see what it was, a large crude carrier supertanker. Harry recalled reading that even with all an LCC's engines dead, the behemoth would take fifteen to twenty minutes and at least three miles to come to a dead standstill. Nurad had only a matter of minutes to change course to parallel the LCC and avert a disastrous collision.
"The way she's riding, the damned ship must be carrying at least 200,000 plus tons of oil," Harry yelled at Captain Andress. "If we hit, we'll fry tonight!"
"Hold her hard over," the captain barked. He rushed to the PA system and announced, "Stand by for a collision! All hands report to your abandon ship positions!"
"Damn you, Peter!" Harry screamed at the fallen man slumped against the bulkhead, his head angled over in a contorted position. "Damn you!" But there was no response. His profanity fell on deaf ears.
"Ahoy, carrier!" a sharp voice crackled over the radio. "Stand by for collision!" There was a momentary pause. "Can't you people see us? What the hell's going on in your wheelhouse?"
On Nurads deck crewmembers rushed to their lifeboat stations. They stood frozen, mesmerized by the huge vessel bearing down on them. In fear of impending death, several had fallen to their knees praying to all-mighty God for forgiveness of their mortal sins.
Osa, her lifejacket thrown hastily over her nightgown, looked with drawn face toward the bridge. Like the others, she turned to face the fast-closing ship, standing helplessly, waiting, watching, paralyzed.
The sound of the ship's whistle only added to the drama of fear. Both ships whistles bleated into the chill night, a cacophony of high- pitched, sorrowful screams as the ships drew ever closer as magnets drawn to one another. There was no place to run, no place to hide, all spectators to the forthcoming disaster frozen in the glare of lights.
In the wheelhouse, Captain Andress re-joined Harry, perspiring freely, holding tightly to the wheel, and forcing it over as far as possible. The gap between the two ships was closing fast now; collision was eminent.
Sluggishly, Nurad continued it's sweeping turn, ever so slowly beginning to parallel the course of the huge crude carrier. In the corner of the wheelhouse, the electrical engineer stood frozen, not believing what he was seeing, sweat standing in beads on his forehead.
"Now!" yelled Captain Andress. "Now!" With that command, they spun the huge wheel hard over to port which would bring the ship more quickly into a parallel alignment with the crude carrier.
"Hold it tightly! Hold it tightly!" Captain Andress implored as he ran to the telegraph, grabbed the handles, and jammed them to full forward. Within moments, the ship again shuddered violently as the massive screws reversed, now propelling the ship forward.
"Ve must vatch out for der vacuum. Keep alert!" the captain called to Harry. Harry knew well that if the ships came too close
together a natural affinity, a vacuum, would pull the two vessels crashing together.
In awed silence, they watched the crude carrier looming close at hand as it started to move along the port side of the ship. Less than one hundred feet now separated the two ships and they were still gravitating toward each other.
Captain Andress stepped out onto the port bridge wing to monitor the situation. Almost immediately he returned jamming the telegraph handles to slow speed forward. Again, there was an anxious pause before the ship responded. Harry felt the change at the wheel. He knew it would allow for better control of the ship and faster passage of the LCC along the port side.
Now the starboard side of the LCC was passing. Less than fifty feet separated them. Harry could almost sense the vacuum as the ships continued to pull closer together.
Captain Andress had once again stepped out onto the port bridge wing to monitor the situation. On the LCC anxious faces peered out the windows of their bridge. An eternity seemed to fly by instead of a scant few moments, as the LCC's stem finally cleared Nurad with less than twenty-five feet between the bow of Nurad and the stern of the LCC. And suddenly, Nurad-was astern and clear of the other ship, wallowing in its wake. A loud cheer erupted from those on deck followed by clapping hands and joyous shouts of praise.
"Ahoy! Swedish ship Nurad." came a rankled voice crackling over the radio. "That was too close for comfort. Can't you people see us? We're only three football fields long!" The sarcasm was harsh, crisp.
"Ve are sorry," replied Captain Andress speaking wearily into the microphone. "Our radar equipment failed us." As he spoke, his eyes zeroed in on the quivering electrical engineer. The message in the captain's eyes was evident. The engineer hastily squatted amidst the scattered parts of the radar unit and feverishly set to the task of repairing the equipment.
"Ve caught sight of you visually at der last minute, und ver able to take evasive action," Captain Andress continued. "Ve ver confused by your lights. Dey blended vis der lights on der distant shoreline."
"You better run your ship more efficiently than that, Mister, or you'll find yourself at the bottom of the Pacific Ocean one day!" the crisp voice retorted. "You can rest assured there will be a report made on this incident. What is the full name of your vessel, its registry and the name of the captain."
Harry, standing exhausted at the wheel, watched a tired Captain Andress suddenly come staunchly erect, eyes ablaze, his face redder, eyebrows deeply furled. He grasped the microphone tightly in his beefy fist, knuckles white. He was quiet, contemplating his reply. Of a sudden, he turned to Second Officer Helmstrund who had entered the wheelhouse only minutes before. "Ve are on der east- vest shipping lane, right?" Captain Andress snapped at the Second Officer.
"Ve vere on der east-vest shipping lane, dat is before ve changed course to avoid der supertanker, sir," he replied looking at the compass.
"I see," he said and turned to Harry. "Bring us back on our previous course, Harry."
"Aye, sir," Harry was quick to oblige, swinging the wheel around, bringing the ship back on previous course.
"Und vitch of us had priority, Mr. Helmstrund?" the captain questioned the Second Officer.
"From der position of der two ships, ve had priority, sir. Ve ver to his starboard. He should haf passed astern of us."
“Tank you.”
Clutching the microphone to his lips, speaking in a firm, even tone of voice, Captain Andress replied, "Supertanker captain, dis is Captain Karl Andress of der Svedish ship Otto J. Nurad, out of Stockholm, destination, Shanghai. I, too, vill report dis incident. Ve ver der privileged vessel to your starboard. I vill report dat you ver in violation in not respecting der rights of dis ship according to der positions of der two ships. You should haf passed astern of us. Perhaps you should review der International Rules of Navigation on der high seas." He paused, an expression of satisfaction appearing on his face. Again, he put the microphone to his lips. "The qvestion comes to my mind; vy didn't you see dis ship earlier und take appropriate evasive action?"
There was a long pause before the speaker crackled again. "This is Captain Julio Antonelli of VLCC Oricon. Captain Andress, let me state that we, too, have the latest in sophisticated navigational aids on board. Unfortunately, according to my first officer, your vessel did not appear on our radar screen. I apologize for not having seen you, or for taking appropriate evasive actions immediately."
Captain Andress smiled, nodding attentively as he listened. There was an impish twinkle in his eye. Clearing his throat, he answered. "Perhaps, Captain Antonelli,
ve should all go back to operating ships using human lookouts in addition to our modern 'sophisticated' equipment."
"Amen," came the reply.
Captain Andress blew the ship's whistle. Oricon returned the salute as it disappeared into the night.
"Take command of der ship und continue on course, Mr. Helmstrund," he ordered. "Bring us back to full speed."
"Aye, aye, Captain," Mr. Helmstrund replied. Turning, he ordered Harry to maintain the current course as he brought the telegraph to full forward. Sluggishly, the huge leviathan began to pick up speed, the decks shuddering once again under the demands placed on the giant screws.
Captain Andress stepped to the ship's PA system and ordered all hands to secure from abandon ship stations. With a look of despair, he observed his first officer slumped against the bulkhead laying in an ever-widening pool of blood.
Kneeling by the fallen man, Captain Andress checked for a pulse, yet knowing there was none. Tears brimmed in his eyes, and then trickled down his ruddy cheeks. He made no attempt to wipe them away. Peter had been his friend, his trusted assistant for many years. How had they gotten through to this loyal man?
With a deep sigh, he rose, wiping at his tears, and faced Mr. Helmstrund. "You are now next in command. Get two crewmen up here to take care of Peter's body. Ve vill haf burial at daylight."
Stepping beyond Mr. Helmstrund, the captain reached forward and shook Harry's hand. "Tank you, Harry. But for your qvick action -" He stopped abruptly as his eyes caught sight of Harry's bloody shoulder. "He did shoot you!"
"A grazing shot, sir," Harry replied glancing at his shoulder. "A little iodine and a bandage should take care of it." He tried to make light of it; it was just that, a simple grazing wound.
"Get der medic, Bjorg, up here on der double to take care of dis man, und get a replacement for him!" the captain snapped to Mr. Helmstrund. "He's done more than his share of vork tonight."