High Seas Series: Tugboats ~ Book One

Chapter One: Shipping Out

I finally had all my papers in order and my US Coast Guard Seaman's Documents were safely in my wallet. The taxi left me at the head of the pier and I carried my duffle to the gangway of the Percival Crowliss.

I looked at the small tugboat, a bit disappointed at its small size as compared to some of the others tied up along the pier, but this was my new home, something I had dreamed about for the last several years.

The skipper, Perry Goodall, was waiting for me on the deck; he didn't look a whole lot different from when I had last seen him as a convalescing sailor in our barn ten years earlier.

He welcomed me aboard and showed me where to stow my duffle, then invited me to the small mess for lunch. He reminded me that he was the Captain, but that he was also my friend.

He introduced me to his crew, Paul Demming, the Chief Engineer, Joe Martinez, the Fireman/Oiler, Frank Watters, First Mate and Billy Peters, Deck Hand. Billy was my age, 18 years old and had been on the "Percy" for less than a month.

The entire crew was like one big family and I was determined to make myself part of it.

I was the new Engine Room Wiper, about the lowest thing upon the sea! The only thing that was lower than me was whale poop.

The Percy was a WW2 Navy Tug that had been purchased by Crowliss Marine and placed in service as a Harbor Tug on San Francisco Bay.

After lunch, Mr. Demming took me around the engine room and showed me my duties, like sweeping and cleaning, wiping up spills and messes and anything else he or the Fireman/Oiler needed doing. It wasn't hard work, not nearly as hard as shoveling out the milking barn, or handling fruit.

Being a small tug and used only on the bay, watches were for the duration of the work day.

We had a tow that first afternoon, we were to pick up two empty barges and tow them to Antioch, where they would be loaded with crates of canned tomatoes at Western California Canners and then hauled to the Southern Pacific Marine Terminal.

It would be an overnight run as the barges would be loaded by the cannery and made ready to haul back the next morning. We would spend the night tied up at the cannery pier.

We departed from the Marine Terminal with the empty barges at about 2 in the afternoon. I could hear the engines strain a bit and the Oiler, Joe Martinez, told me we were passing through the Carquinez Straits, where all the inland rivers of California's Great Central Valley drained.

We arrived at the cannery pier in Antioch at 6 in the evening and after tying up at their pier, Billy Peters announced it was his turn to cook supper. I thought to myself, "I hope they like scrambled eggs, those were about all I know how to cook when it came time for my turn at fixing food."

Billy actually did a pretty good job, we had fried slices of ham with fried potatoes and he had "filched" some fresh tomatoes off a crate inside the door of the cannery and he sliced them up for a salad. For a dessert, there was a store bought peach pie. Not near as good as my Mother made, but that was part of my past now.

Billy asked me if I wanted to go ashore with him, but I needed to conserve my money until my first payday. Besides, I was saving my money to go to the Academy; that was my primary goal.

After supper I finished cleaning up the Engine Room and decided to go to bed early. Some joker had crossed out the label on the door and renamed the Bunk Room as the Boys' Room, but, who cares.

The tug's generator was shut down at 10 pm and everything was in darkness. Fortunately, I had been warned to bring a flashlight, so, if I needed, I could find the toilet. (oops, Head!)

Sometime during the night, Billy came back from his shore trip, singing and stumbling all over the place. I knew that he had a few beers in him and I prayed he didn't deposit them on the floor of the bunk room. Fortunately, he did not, but when Mr. Demming stuck his head in the room and shouted, "Rise and Shine, Boys", Billy groaned and threw a pillow at him.

We were ready to return the tow just before noon, Captain Perry had stopped at Taco Bell and got us lunch, otherwise they would have been complaining that I had tried to poison them all, it was my turn to cook!

I could tell we had some weight behind us, those two old General Motors 2-68-A engines were groaning and laboring as we headed downriver at slack tide.

We departed from the cannery pier at noon, I ate my tacos and fries in the engine room. I nearly lost my coke when the Captain filled the clutches and we started pulling away from the pier, the darned things filled with a thud and the control valve jumped like it was trying to leave the country!

With the engines under heavy load, there was no talking down there, everything was by hand signals. About half way downriver, Mr. Demming handed me some earplugs.

What a difference they made!

It was dark by the time we pulled up to the Marine Terminal and dropped off our tow. I was tired by the time we got back to Crowliss Pier and, as soon as I had swept down the Engine Room and wiped up all the spills, I was looking for my bunk!

Billy went ashore again that night and came back singing and laughing at 3 am. I guess I kinda growled at him, because he was suddenly quiet and went to bed as soon as he dropped his clothes on the deck.

I quickly got into the routine of the Percy, we worked three days and had a day off. It was pretty good, I was making $6.30 an hour during my probation period, which was three months, and then it would go to $8.25!

In 1955 that was darned good money! I did have to chip in for my share of the meals and, incidentals like laundry and clothing.

We spent the next several months working the bay area and running as far upriver as Sacramento and Stockton.

We had been downbay to Palo Alto on a run hauling barges of clay and stone for the brickworks when they got a radio message up on the bridge that the Benson Crowliss suffered engine failure towing a load of lumber from Seattle to San Francisco. She was adrift off the Farallons, just outside the Golden Gate.

The Percy was the only Crowliss Tug not occupied under tow and available. We were the smallest tug in the fleet and the Benson was an Ocean Tug, it was going to take all our little "Jimmies" had to snatch the Benson from the rocks.