Search and Rescue
We continued to make our way back toward Canada, still hitting storm after storm. We didn't sustain any more major damage, just occasional minor things that were repaired by the ship's crew. Around 2:00 PM on 9 March, we were radioed a message that a small aircraft had crashed into the sea some 400 miles from our current position. Given the time of year and the distance of the crash site from the shipping lanes, we were one of the closest vessels.
One never abandons another person in distress, be it on land or at sea. We turned east and sailed toward Europe and the crash site. This outlook wasn't good because we were a day or two away and the seas were still running at 20-30 feet. Nonetheless we arrived and a search pattern, or grid, was plotted. Everyone took turns on the flying bridge of the ship with binoculars, one person on the port side, the other on the starboard. We were aided by search aircraft out of the UK and by a Russian weather ship that was also in the vicinity. Regrettably, not a trace was found. No survivors, no wreckage or debris. The entire area was covered several times and the search aircraft flew overhead the entire time. Late in the day on 12 March, the search was called off. What could anyone say? Only that we had given it our best attempt, as would any sailor. Our hearts were with those lost and their families.
And so we began our steam from the crash site to Dartmouth and home. A bit of explanation is warranted here. CSS Baffin typically cruised between 11 and 13 knots, this being normal for a research vessel of her size. However, during the time we were on search and rescue, our speed was reduced to about half that. The idea is to cover as much area as possible and still go slow enough to ensure that the people on watch would not miss anything floating in the sea. After a couple of days of this, soot had built up in the funnel (due to the exhaust from the engines.) This is similar to what can happen to the chimney on a house equipped with an airtight stove.
When the search was called off and the ship headed toward Nova Scotia, the order full ahead was given. Unknown to anyone, the funnel had this heavy coating of soot inside. When the hot gases from all engines entered, this soot ignited, not unlike a chimney fire on land. Most of us were inside preparing for our evening meal when this happened. I was one of them and did not witness the sight outside. Those who did described it as similar to a massive blowtorch, with a flame 20-30 feet high roaring out of the stack (funnel.) The Captain sounded the fire alarm and the pipe over the intercom is still clear as a bell in my mind, "All hands to the lifeboats, all hands to the lifeboats. This is not a drill. Repeat, this is not a drill."
Realize that a fire onboard a ship at sea is one of the most terrifying things that can happen. Where do you go? On land, if your house (or even you car) catches fire, you can run away from it. On a ship, there is no where to go. Your only option is to go over the side and hope you can get to a lifeboat. Years of going to sea with lifeboat and fire drills paid off that late afternoon on 12 March 1989. Within three minutes all of the scientific staff and most of the crew were dressed in survival suits and mustered to their respective lifeboat stations.
It turned out that those in the engine room and on the bridge had seen this sort of thing before and they were trained what to do. And they did an excellent job. By the time the rest of us made it to the lifeboat stations, the fire was out. When such an event occurs, one either opens a damper or the like. This allows the fire to burn itself out quickly. Since it was contained inside of the stack, no serious damage was done. We had to stay at the lifeboat stations for about a half hour while the ship was inspected to make sure all was OK. During this time, we all had time to reflect on the professionalism of the crew and officers. We, who depended on them for our safety, had just witnessed a potential disaster contained in a very short time. Looking out at 25-foot seas and wondering how long one would survive in a lifeboat was a sobering thought. Those who acted quickly made the incident look routine and just part of a day's work. It was neither.
Last updated on Thursday, 12 April 2007