Waves were so forceful the ship would bounce sideways and plummet deep into the openness created as the sea water flew up over it's decks like a great fluid wall. "All hands stand clear of all weather decks due to inclement weather." would come the warning over the 1MC. What idiot would dare go on the main deck in a storm like this? Ships of old were manned on the main deck but not the magnificent steel warriors that so easily skimmed the seas like a skip rock. In the foc'sle (forecastle) you could lay back and enjoy the slow unpredictable movement of the bow pushing through the sea. First the bow would slice deep into the water and you could imagine the great amounts of water being thrown out and away by the hurricane bow. The tremendous weight of the anchors helped them hug the bow with only little help from the windless. Down and suddenly sideways, then up, up, up and in a circular motion the bow would began slowly sinking. You could feel a great swell hit and the ship would be pushed to port or starboard as it plunged and then veer at an angle so sharp you'd swear the bow would twist off from the ship. Six decks down directly above the sonar you could ride the smoothest ride if your stomach could endure. Down, down, down went the bow, then to one side or the other. Suddenly a huge swirling motion, around again and again while the tremendous swells that were cut by the bow seemed to only hinder the ship with nudges. It kind of made you feel everything was in slow motion. It wasn't a hard smack like a small boat flying out of the water only to make a rough landing that could jar your teeth, rather the feel of a million pounds falling endlessy, slowley. Circling motion forever moving upward then beginning all over again. What a ride! You knew the crew up top on the bridge or flying bridge was riding high and easy, only seeing what the sea was doing. Far from any danger and far from the excitement other than the wind that could literally make you grab for the steel deck so you wouldn't fly away. Thank Heaven for non-skid.
SEA LEGS
Rough weather was scary and exciting. Just going to the mess deck was a
feat. One foot on the bulkhead with a roll to starboard, then one on
the deck, then the other foot to the opposite bulkhead with the roll to
port. Besides knowing how to manuever your dogs you had be equally
skilled in grabbing any steel that could equalize your balance.
Sometimes you had to be careful what you grabbed. You might just catch
something sharp and painful. Somebody should tell the rest of the world
that in order for a sailor to get the "Gravy" he first had to learn to
walk to mess deck to get it. Sea legs don't come easy!
Aft compartments were the most aggravating during these encounters with
nature's rough side. The great shaking vibration in the fantail was so
strong, bolts and rivets would fly out of racks and hundred pound
hatches would fall if they weren't pinned properly or let down and
dogged. I always heard that the one of the shafts was so warped, it
made the ship ride like a log wagon.
There was a time when I went up to frame 118 paying no heed to the
warnings. I undogged the water tight hatch that opened onto the main
deck. What an awakening! Water was as tall as buildings, but for what
ever reason, danger seemed a million miles away. It was kind of like
being out in the rain and not realizing how lightning never warns, only
strikes. The swell grew 10, 20, 30...feet. I just knew the swell would
subside before it hit the great ship. Nothing would dare come so close
to our safety and comfort. I waited and waited not knowing that swells
grow and grow and grow but never break. They only blast the ship with
the force of a missle without the shrapnel. The water was upon me
instantly and only one...two feet from dragging me up, off and away.
Run! came the feelings. Jump! came the innate force inside. One step,
grabbing the hatch lip I swung myself high enough, long enough to jump
inside. I then threw the dog as I slammed the hatch. Experience life
and live humbly, but with one mistake you could perish hopelessy.
I would not have been the first. Sheer fleet, and some knowledge, plus
divine intervention stole me from the great "Deep Six"..."86"... Davy
Jones' Locker would have to wait on this one.