Last voyage of the SS Columbia Baron

Columbia Steam Ship Company was based in Portland, Oregon. Like many other small shipping companies still around in the 50's and 60's they carried cargo during the Viet Nam war. In 1970 I was 18 and getting out of high school in Houston, Tx. I had to register for the draft at school that year and my number in the lottery system indicated I had a good chance of getting drafted. Since I didn't plan for college I decided to go to sea, which would effectively take me out sight, out of mind if my number came up. The Seafarer's Union didn't forward any mail from bill collectors, parole officers, federal investigators, etc. One week after I came home a graduate, I found my Dad showing my Mom where Ceylon was in the Encyclopedia and found out he had heard of a ship I could get job on that was going there and beyond. A summer job; and then I was to enroll in "college" with the money I would make. As Senior Invsetigating Officer in the Marine Inspection Office of the Coast Guard he knew the guys at the Union Hall well enough to get me a job. I had gone to his office, which was near the ship channel and we had gone aboard a US cargo ship. We went in the fidley and looked own into the engine room.. too confining, and hot. On deck I felt much better and the running rigging was in use, loading cargo. This seemed like a better bet. When the ship arrived we went to Hall together and in the side door to the Patrolman's office. The ship channel in the background out his window, he said I just missed an "acting AB" (Able Seaman position) job on a ship that left that morning. Pier head jump. Just as well, I took an Ordinary Seaman job on the Columbia Baron. Later I would find out that there were 7 high school and college kids working aboard. The reason we all got jobs for the summer would become clear during the trip as we heard the story some of the homesteaders (senior union members who stayed on more than one trip) had to tell.
My whole family and a few neighborhood friends rode with us when I went to join the ship. Berthed at a cargo dock in Corpus Christi, loaded with bagged grain and making ready to "sail". Steamships sail when they depart. The deck department were working overtime to stow the cargo gear when we pulled up on the dock, eye level with all hands who were leaning on the rail taking a break to see who was arriving at the last minute. I took my new sea bag full of new work clothes into the house and found my room after the Bosn looked me over and winked at my Mom when he said I could just go get ready for letting go lines. They would handle the dirty work on deck. The other kids in the car laughed to think I would be allowed to do anything that exotic. When I came out my Dad was talking to the gangway watch who it turned out was someone he knew. Paul "Red" King. He had taken his seaman's document the year before when he pulled a knife on another crew member. He was gaining Red's assurance that, in order to prevent any further loss of income from a subsequent loss of seaman's document, him and the crew would "keep an eye" on me my first trip. Great. Just as my family drove away there was a fire box explosion and and an ambulance came down the dock to get the fireman/watertender "Whitey" who hadn't set the burner all the way in and gotten burned trying to light off the boiler. We got the fire box repaired (bricks had gotten knocked lose) in Trinidad, our bunker port a week later. Whitey failed to make the trip. Hearing the sirens, my parents came back along the dock and found out what had happened from the Bos'n.. They also still had my pillow from home along and I was called to get it and bring it to my room while everyone smiled again.
This wasn't exactly as I had envisioned "leaving home" in my mind during boring classes in high school when I decided to seek adventure on the high seas. Sailing was delayed and I saw my folks one more time the next day when they were leaving to go back to Houston. We had lowered the lifeboat over the dock to scrape and paint it and I was finally dirty from working and could shake my Dad's hand goodbye and wave at my Mom without feeling childish. Don't worry, I'll be fine. Yes, I'll write.

I was on the mid watch. Which meant I worked from midnight to 0400 and then again from noon to 1600. It took some getting used to, and I din't start working overtime in the mornings until we cleared Trinidad. I remember waking up a few hours after we had left the dock in Texas and seeing some islands in the moonlight out the port hole. I thought I was already seeing the world! It turned out to be dredge spoils in Corpus Christi Bay. the pilot boat that night was a sailboat according to my watch partner.. Even though there were sailing pilot boats in the early 20th century, I have no idea why Port Aransas pilots were using one in 1970.
So, off we went, I was signed on to Articles and my home country was falling away astern to never be seen again by the same person. When I would fly home four month later from Taiwan by way of San Francisco I would not be even remotely the same. Unfortunately, I stayed sea sick, slept until noon, had trouble sleeping after dinner and generally was a mess for the trip to the West Indies. Finally, one night on wheel watch I passed out at the wheel. The Chief Mate had to take a look at me and figured out that the problem was mostly constipation, from changing diet, no excercise and dehydration due to the sea sickness. The cure was prescribed by the Bos'n. Get on deck after breakfast and work, which I did. Seas were boarding onto the main deck occasionally and it didn't matter if I didn't make it to the rail to puke. After a while I felt better and didn't have to see the Chief Mate again, which suited me fine.
The mate on my watch was a short hispanic guy who had been in WW II just a few years (25 to be exact) before. He seemed really old to me. We called all the old guys "schizos" because they would be really mad one minute and then happy and foolish the next.. no real in between for most of them. Forget the fact that they had been torpedoed and shot at in their lifeboats when they were my age. We just thought they were exagerrating everything to do with this. It couldn't be that hard! The crew for that little ship was over 40 people. Good thing since we were all only partially capable of making the thing go through the Ocean and around the World.

SS Warrior Part I

In the mid seventies I was in a program with the Seafarer's Union to get full seniority. This involved training at the Harry Lundberg School in Piney Point, Maryland (Mike Sacco taught the class) and then working at the hiring hall in Brooklyn, NY. While I was working in New York I availed myself to the Union's library and archives next to the hall. There I found microfiche records of newspaper articles going back to the start of the Sailor's Union of the Pacific. I also attended morning meetings held by Frank Drozak who was President at the time.

At some point I was given a job and my training was over. I flew out to join a Sealand ship in Europe, the Warrior. Big company, great run, 6 month contract since it didn't involve coming back to the States as it was a "feeder" ship. Sealand was rebuilding a few ships for military cargo that would connect Rotterdam and the Persian Gulf through the Mediteranean Sea. We and two other ships were filling in by moving containers from Italy to Rotterdam.

When we arrived in Lisbon we found out the deal. The ships were out of lay up. Old C-2 class freighters, built in the late 40s and early 50s, with all their cargo gear removed, could carry about 250 containers. They made about 8 knots on a good day. The Warrior had been in a bit of trouble during the start of their service in Europe. I joined the ship in Lisbon where they had been in the shipyard. Portugal was trying communism and the workers didn't seem to want to work, the Captain said they would play soccer most of the day instead.

The old ship sailed. It was November. The decision was made to stay away from the northern passage to Rotterdam, across the Bay of Biscay and through the English Channel into the North Sea to the Maas River.. All rough waters for and elderly vessel. Steamships have a life span of about 30 years.. and this one had come out of "moth balls" to fill in on the run. So off we went to the south and into the Mediterranean where we stayed until winter was over. I guess that means the other two old ships had to make the northern leg. We were missing an anchor that had been cut off when the ship was towed into the shipyard without power.

The mid point of the European feeder run I am talking about was Algeciras Spain. Across the bay from Gibraltar. Ocassionally an SL 7 would call there from the States.. We tried to get groceries from them at times. Those ships were/are close to 1000' long and would do 30 kts if you could afford the fuel. We could see them on the horizon with a noticeable rooster tail as they rang up sea speed leaving. We, on the other hand spent a few days drifting along the coast of Algeria and went under tow for Genoa, one end of our service along the west coast of Italy. Naples was the southern end with Livorno (Leghorn) in the middle.. near Pisa.

We were shooed away from the coast of Monaco by their "Coast Guard" which was a yacht with Royal crew members that had guns. "You are disturbing our guests" (at the casinos and resorts.. who were probably ship owners) OK we were a little rusty, but the hull was black anyway.

We tied up to a stone quay in the old port. At this point, the company began to loose favor with the crew.. Most of the officers got off. It was Christmas time anyway, for the unlicensed guys to also get off there would be penalties. Without power we had not heat, no hot water. I took a bath in a bucket of cold water on deck and left the ship for the holiday. The Captain hadn't issued a draw against our wages, so without money (no debit cards in those days kids) I walked the streets looking for a Christmas miracle.

I came to the stree where Colombus was born! It said so on an arched entry to the narrow old street.. Up the street was a police station and when they heard my story they let me sleep there; "hey, maybe you are the next Colombus" At least it was warm. I ate at the seaman's center which was in part of an old castle near the port. Great town. The company should have put us up ashore at that point. More about this later.

When I went back to the ship it was sunny and calm and we actually moved it along the pier by hand! too cheap to hire a tug! bastards. we hooked up handy billy (tackle) to the mooring lines and laid into it as the aft crew slacked their lines and the ship drifted along the pier obediently for about a ship length. Eventually we had power again, the holidays were over, we loaded for Spain and departed. The pilots hated us.

Since the original Captain had gone home, the office sent out a retired Captain and a Port Engineer as Chief to try to make her go enough to continue. They were having loads of fun. We were not impressed. One thing that really bothered me, even though I was just a helmsman, was that the RADAR was disconnected and under a tarp on the wing of the bridge. We sailed for months like this. Being without eyes in any bad visibility has some interesting consequences.

By now most of the officers had gotten replaced with whoever their union could catch. The mate on my watch was from Ohio; having sailed during WW II after becoming a "90 day wonder" through the US Maritime Academy at King's Point. When the war was over he went home until now, kid's needed money for college, back to sea. One night approaching Naples with passing rain showers and no moon the Capt had told him to be on the lookout for the S. tip of Sardinia which should show a light off our port bow. We were making our usual 9 kts and I reported a light to stbd a couple of times, apparently passing along on an opposite course. He continued looking to port for the light house. In the rain the intermittent light that I saw didn't exhibit any characteristics that he was looking for. After a while he got a little nervous and called the Capt, who showed up in his sock feet.. Without saying a word the Old Man went out on the wing of the bridge in the rain and hollered "hard right" almost immediately. When I spun the wheel and began to bring the ship around it became clear that the swell, which had been behind us, had increased. In fact it seemed to pull at us, in the direction we were just headed. Not a good feeling. Looking out the open hatch to port where both the Capt and the Mate stood now I saw fingers of white jump up at regular intervals, fairly close.. a mile or two? Not the horizon anyway, on fact, it was the base of the cliffs of SW Sardinia! We steamed around to a little more than 90 degrees to stbd. and the Capt went below, slamming the wheelhouse door. The Mate was visibly shook up, having almost wrecked the ship on the rocks. After a while we did indeed see the light to port and kept it to port as we turned east again and proceeded to Naploli. I didn't rub it in about the light I had been reporting. Its just a fact that without RADAR mariners have to think a lot harder and never let their guard down. Pessimism is the order of the day if you want to keep all together and be allowed to carry on with your business. No day dreaming, no sky larking or wishful thinking.. The sea doesn't care about those things. It demands "pay attention or I will cost you everything".