Rescue of the Bounty: Disaster and Survival in Superstorm Sandy (31 page)

In the weeks immediately following, coast guard commander Kevin M. Carroll began his investigation, talking informally not only with survivors but with experts who knew
Bounty
well. His goal and that of his agency was to take “appropriate measures for promoting safety of life and property.” Although the investigation was “not intended to fix civil or criminal responsibility,” Carroll nevertheless was charged with determining “whether there is evidence that any act of misconduct, inattention to duty, negligence, or willful violation of the law on the part of any licensed or certificated person contributed to the casualty.”

Thus when Carroll opened public hearings on February 12, 2013, into the loss of
Bounty
, the ship’s owner, Robert Hansen, exerted his constitutional protection against self-incrimination and refused to testify. The four surviving
Bounty
officers and eight of ten surviving crew members did appear as witnesses during the eight days of hearings. Their sworn testimony and that of others provided much of the basis for this book.

First to testify was John Svendsen, chief mate and the person whom Robin Walbridge anticipated would be
Bounty
’s next captain. Svendsen was considered a party of interest in the case, because he was the senior surviving officer and could be held responsible for his actions aboard.

Carroll’s questions led Svendsen through the tale of
Bounty
’s fatal voyage, a story that would be repeated in many details by the eleven crew members who followed him at the witness table in a hotel ballroom in Portsmouth, Virginia. The chief mate’s testimony was unique, however, in his claim, under oath, that he had confronted Walbridge in New London, challenging his decision to sail toward Sandy. The confrontation was private, he testified. No one but he and the lost captain knew what words were exchanged. The testimony could, given Svendsen’s precarious legal position as the ranking survivor, be seen as an attempt at self-protection, except that crew member testimony that followed seemed to buttress Svendsen’s version.

The next two to testify—Third Mate Dan Cleveland and Bosun Laura Groves—both told Carroll of their meeting with Svendsen prior to departure, where concerns about the voyage were discussed.

By the time Cleveland and Groves testified, Carroll and his panel had questioned Todd Kosakowski, the shipyard manager, who revealed his discovery of rot aboard
Bounty
and detailed his discussions with Walbridge. It was Kosakowski who testified that Walbridge had urged Hansen to sell the ship as soon as he could.

Kosakowski was followed at the witness table by Joseph Jakimovicz, who had been manager of the shipyard prior to Kosakowski and who said he was less concerned with the rot found in
Bounty
’s timbers. “I’ve seen a lot worse,” he testified. “I’m basing my judgment on forty years experience. He [Kosakowski] is basing his on five or six years’ experience. That’s probably the difference.”

Carroll asked all of the crew members about the work done on
Bounty
in the Boothbay Harbor Shipyard and the condition of the ship. Second Mate Matt Sanders, Engineer Chris Barksdale, longtime volunteer crew member Douglas Faunt, and crew members Joshua Scornavacchi, Jessica Hewitt, Anna Sprague, and Jessica Black appeared in person. Adam Prokosh and Drew Salapatek were interviewed by telephone, their voices amplified for the audience in the ballroom.

For the benefit of the coast guard, each crew member relived their experiences on board
Bounty
during Hurricane Sandy and, after they jumped or were thrown from
Bounty,
in the ocean until they were rescued.

Among those who attended every day of the testimony were Robert Hansen and the parents of Claudene Christian, Harry Rex, and Dina Christian. The Christians were represented by a lawyer who, along with Hansen’s lawyer and Svendsen himself—all parties in interest—were allowed to question each witness.

A representative of the National Transportation Safety Board, which was conducting its own investigation of the incident, was included in the panel that assisted Carroll.

Three months after the hearing adjourned, Ralph J. Mellusi, on behalf of Claudene Christian’s estate, filed suit in the US District Court in New York, seeking $20 million in damages from HMS Bounty Organization LLC and Robert Hansen for, among other claims, “negligence, gross negligence, willful, callous and reckless conduct and conditions” and another $50 million in punitive damages.

On June 26, 2013, Commander Carroll’s completed report was forwarded by the Fifth Coast Guard District to Coast Guard Headquarters in Washington, DC.

In a statement in late September 2013, the coast guard explained that “The report will be reviewed to ensure that all relevant matters of fact have been explored and adequately documented; all findings of fact in matters of controversy are justified; all conclusions are logically consistent with the findings of fact and their analyses; causes have been adequately analyzed; human error has been documented and analyzed; all evidence of violation of law or regulation has been referred for appropriate enforcement action; and all recommendations are in reference to conclusions, address conditions observed and are supported in the case file.

“The investigation contained several safety recommendations, and Coast Guard Headquarters must take the time to review, coordinate with responsible oversight offices, and then draft for the final action response for the Commandant’s signature. Given the complexity of, and comprehensive nature of the review at the Coast Guard Headquarters level, the final date of completion of all Coast Guard activities pertaining to the investigation remains undetermined.”

Not all of the survivors wanted to talk about
Bounty
. Already they had endured a period of constant high-level stress, near drowning, the loss of friends, and a barrage of media requests. They then had to relive what happened during their testimony at the coast guard inquiry. It was not, nor has it been, an easy time for some of the crew.

Yet they knew they would never forget Claudene and Robin and attended memorial services for their lost shipmates. Throwing wreaths into the sea, they wondered what happened to Claudene and Robin in their last hours. At one memorial service they huddled in the snow, knowing this would probably be the last time the surviving crew of
Bounty
’s final voyage would all be together.

In the months that followed the loss of
Bounty,
some surviving crew members took positions on other tall ships and some of the surviving officers were being courted by other tall ship captains.

Michael Tougias

When
Bounty
was first encountering heavy seas, I was, coincidentally, on TV talking about storms. One of the hosts of
Fox & Friends
asked me if I thought any ships might be in harm’s way with Hurricane Sandy coming up the eastern seaboard. I paused and then explained that the storm had been so well forecast that all ships would be in port. Imagine my surprise when two days later news reports of the dramatic rescue of
Bounty
splashed across my TV set. That launched my quest to learn more, and later I contacted Doug Campbell to team up and write the definitive account of what happened and why.

What struck me during my research was how much worse this accident could have been. The sailors’ donning of survival suits and gathering on deck occurred just minutes before the ship rolled to its side. Had they been belowdecks during the capsizing, I doubt anyone would have gotten out alive, especially because there was just a single passageway to the top. Equally important was the coast guard’s decision to launch Wes McIntosh’s C-130 into the heart of the storm. If that plane had not been on scene when
Bounty
heeled over, the loss of life would have been higher because the aircraft was the only communication link between the ship and the outside world. Without the C-130 crew to relay news of the disaster back to Elizabeth City, the helicopter commanded by Steve Cerveny would not have launched until at least two hours later. The immediate launch of that helo likely saved the life of John Svendsen, who was floating alone in the raging sea, far from both
Bounty
and the life rafts.

The airlift rescue of the first five sailors is remarkable not only because it occurred in hurricane-force winds and thirty-foot seas, but also in the dark. The second helicopter had just as dangerous a task: to extract nine sailors from two different rafts under tight time constraints due to fuel limitations. President Obama had it right when he lauded the coast guard. Speaking in New Jersey just after the storm struck, he said, “One of my favorite stories is down in North Carolina where the coast guard was going out to save a sinking ship. They sent the rescue swimmer out and the rescue swimmer said, ‘Hi, I’m Dan, I understand you guys need a ride.’ That kind of spirit of resilience and strength—but most importantly looking out for one another—that’s why we always bounce back from these kinds of disasters.”

We often think of the coast guard men and women as “just doing their jobs” because most are humble and downplay their role. We assume that when one mission is complete, they move right on to the next. They do, but every now and then a rescue or rescue attempt comes along that moves the rescuers deeply and has an impact that will last well beyond their careers. I recall how Mike Myers, the copilot on the C-130 with Wes McIntosh, wrote to me saying, “It was so painful to experience the
Bounty
crew’s emotional highs and lows. There was a bond and connection between our crew and theirs. Then to have them go in the water, at night, exhausted, and hastily forced overboard, it became our worst case scenario. We made repeated radio calls, we flashed our lights when in over-flight, we dropped rafts, survival gear, homing devices . . . everything we could to keep their hopes of survival alive. But we had lost our connection with our fellow mariners—we would not hear any other radio calls, see any flares, nor observe any people in the water. It was heart-breaking thinking that the worst had happened.”

The survivors knew it was a combination of their own gritty determination to live, coupled with the coast guard’s resolve to find and rescue them, that had allowed them to have more tomorrows. But for some, the ordeal wasn’t over after the rescue, and they were plagued with nightmares, post-traumatic stress, and being second-guessed by others.

•  •  •  

Most people will remember Robin Walbridge for his disastrous decision to leave port. But we have all made mistakes, and it seems unfair that over a lifetime of difficult choices a person gets labeled for his last one. Coast guard captain Eric Jones explained it this way: “One bad decision does not undo all the positive influence Robin Walbridge had on sailors.” I think he’s right, and almost every crew member who survived Sandy agrees—they almost all spoke highly of Robin’s leadership and training skills.

We also need to remember that Hurricane Sandy was unlike other hurricanes. It was epic—nine hundred miles wide, the largest storm ever recorded in the North Atlantic. Captain Walbridge and all those who followed him as he steered
Bounty
out of New London, Connecticut, believed they could skirt the storm. Had it been a “typical” hurricane, they might have done just that. But Sandy’s reach was so massive that by the time they realized its magnitude, there was no safe direction to sail.

Still, the captain should have thought of his crew first, and not that “a ship is safer at sea than at port” during a storm.

A critical decision occurs in the opening pages of this book when Captain Walbridge calls the crew together to announce his plans to sail despite the oncoming storm. He told them anyone could leave and he wouldn’t think any less of them or hold it against them. Why, I wondered, did every single crew member agree to remain on the ship? Most said they had confidence in the captain, the ship, and their own training. But I think another, more subtle factor was at work—the group itself. Perhaps no one wanted to be the first to walk off
Bounty
, appear to be afraid, or be perceived as letting their crewmates down. Remember, most of the crew were under thirty years old, and they felt a loyalty to each other and to the captain without the benefit of decades of sailing. Also, the manner in which Captain Walbridge made this announcement likely influenced the outcome. The crew was forced to make a quick decision, without having the time to check various forecasts themselves. Nor did they have the luxury to sleep on their decision, discuss it with family, or have a private conversation with the captain. Instead, when none spoke up and said they were leaving, the captain ordered them to prepare the ship to get under way.

When I think of
Bounty
, a cascade of thoughts flows through me. I recall how I went on the ship briefly twenty years ago with my father and my son in Fall River, Massachusetts. I thought she was beautiful. When I was just fifteen years old, I consumed the trilogy of books related to the
Bounty
written by Charles Nordhoff and James Hall in the 1930s (
Mutiny on the Bounty
,
Men Against the Sea
, and
Pitcairn’s Island
.) They were wonderful stories and likely fueled my future writing career and love of the sea. While I generally think that Hollywood remakes of books fail miserably, I loved the two
Mutiny on the Bounty
movies. The first was released in 1935 and starred Charles Laughton as Captain William Bligh and Clark Gable as Fletcher Christian. The second movie was a 1962 version starring Marlon Brando and Trevor Howard. Many viewers like myself fell in love with the South Pacific and the graceful ship that saw so much turmoil.

Now when I reflect on
Bounty
, I feel mostly sadness. My thoughts are of the majestic old ship in its death throes and how Sandy took the lives of two crew members. But what bothers me most is that it didn’t have to happen.