March 21, 2011

• For Towboaters Only (mainly)

  So we're swinging Upper 12 northbound, right?  We're faced up to the tow, got the Chelsea on my port hip, shoving three loads strung out, one empty stack-cover breasted in on the port head. We caught the edge of the eddy, and our speed jumped from 3.7 to 5.8 statute. I kept close to the point so as to meet 93, onboard a loaded panamax bulker, on the one blast.

  I felt a little movement in the tow as I gave the sticks a bump to starboard, one of the fore and afts must be loose at the steering coupling, as I had already ruled out the face wires being at fault. So I resolved to send a deckhand out on the tow to tighten some ratchets after we made the point. I called the boat behind me, and we agreed that I would leave him some room on the one, and we were doing just fine.

  I called the deckhands up to the wheelhouse to tell them what I had in mind. Suddenly we felt another bump, which came just as the ship passed me. It was probably his wake, plus the slack in the wires, which caused the wires at the starboard steering coupling to snap as they got tight. The two lead barges, with the empty breasted in, started veering off to the port as I slammed both engines into reverse, in an attempt to prevent the tow from twisting all the way around. The Chelsea helped for a minute, but Clint was afraid of being crushed as the tow swung around, and had his deckhand unhip their boat and he got away, but ready to help.

  I jumped on the VHF and said that our steering coupling had parted, and that we were taking up the entire river just above Upper Twelve. By this time my efforts to straighten the tow by backing down were not achieving the desired result, so I steered hard to port, which did start to close the gap.The port wires having held so far, I was careful too not be going too fast when they got tight again, or we would snap them as swell. By now, we were floating downstream at current speed, 3.4 mph, and hurtling across the river as well, towards a fleet of barges. I called the fleet boat and told him quickly what was happening. The wheelman on the Legend asked what he could do, I said not much, but maybe push me away before we knocked his fleet loose, sending dozens of barges loose, which would in turn hit other fleets, a chain reaction no one wants to see. "That I can do." he replied.

  I'm juggling two radios now, talking to the Legend on 66, bridge-to-bridge on 67, Vessel Traffic on 12, and the Chelsea on 17. We are heading into the bend, where we will pile up on the bank and possibly hole a barge or two. But Clint got on the head, and pushed two pieces of the tow together, the deck crew managed to catch one wire, and I twin-screwed the tow clockwise and headed northbound once more as the deckhands ran a new starbaord double-up. By this time we were below Upper Twelve again. I thanked my lucky stars that, for the first time that night, there was not a single downbound tow or ship in the vicinity when we went out of control. I expected Vessel Traffic to want me to fill a 2692, but when I called in an 'all clear', all he did was laugh about the tension in my voice during the situation. That was a relief, I hate paperwork.

  • 8:23 pm
  • 5 Comments