Joe Martinez got an opportunity to sail on the Jefferson Crowliss, a large oceangoing tug that made regular runs between Seattle and Long Beach.
Mr. Demming asked me if I wanted Joe's spot on the Percy, I must have looked at him as if he had just climbed out from under a damp rock! Of Course I wanted that position!
On our next day off, Joe asked me to help him move his stuff over to the Jeff and I had a good look around the much bigger tug. It looked great to me and I figured my time would come.
It was the Christmas Season and I had written my folks about my promotion. I hoped my Dad was not still angry with me for refusing to go to the University and I wondered if I would hear from them.
We were in port, there had been some problems with the generator and it was in the shop being rewound. They told us it would be several days before they would have it completed, so we were tied into the power system on the pier, everything on most small tugs was DC (direct current) and there was a large rectifier on the pier to supply DC to the tugs.
A new Wiper had reported on board, Jeff Collender. Jeff was kind of a "wise ass", but he was a willing worker, when he wasn't cracking idiotic jokes. It was kinda nice to be able to leave the mess for someone else to clean up. You wouldn't purposely make a mess for someone else, but after wrestling that darned air compressor for two days, I didn't look forward to pushing a broom.
I had just finished cleaning up after the Chief and I had overhauled the air compressor. It was desperate for new rings and we found a cracked valve plate also. It was no wonder the thing could hardly keep up with the demand. I had just stepped out of the shower when Billy called down the ladder that I had visitors on the deck.
I couldn't imagine who would be visiting me, so I threw some clean clothes on and hurried up on deck to see who was there.
It was my Mom and Dad!
Since we were not in operational status, I told the Chief I was going ashore for supper with my parents and we left the Percy, headed over to Fisherman's Wharf for dinner.
Over our meal, my Dad and I reconciled our differences, I am sure my Mother orchestrated that, but I was happy anyway. I loved my parents dearly and I knew that Dad was hurting as bad as was I.
It was with a happy heart I returned to the Percy later that night and I slept better than I had in a long time.
The Percy went back into service as soon as we had reinstalled the generator. It was the dead of winter and everything was clammy and cold on the water and a cold wind had come up, making everything even worse.
We seemed to be stuck in a rut. Every other tow was to or from the Southern Pacific Marine Terminal.
It didn't make much difference to us down in the warm engine room, but Billy would complain bitterly about having to make up the tows in the wet and cold. I asked why he didn't try for Mate and he hummed and hawed, but he never did answer my question.
Months later, when I left the Percy for the Amelia Crowliss, a large ocean going tug, he was still the deckhand and had made no attempt to even study for his AB ticket. (Able Bodied Seaman)
We had just pulled a three barge tow into the Marine Terminal, it was a heavy tow for us and the poor little Percy was hard put pulling that great a tow.
The Wheelhouse had just shut down both main engines and we were going to be there overnight while a return tow was put together. The Chief and I were discussing what to do with No. 2 Main Engine. We both could hear a rattle in the scavenging blower that sounded like sure trouble to both of us.
Suddenly, we both were hurled to the floor plates and smoke came billowing down the ventilator shaft. The lights went out and the emergency lighting took over.
The Skipper was shouting on the "bitchbox" to start both engines in reverse. He said his wheelhouse controls were smashed.
The Chief ran to the port engine as I went to the starboard engine and we both opened the manual air start poppets, praying the engines would roll. I cranked the timing rotator to reverse and pulled as hard as I could on the start poppet valve.
The Chief was screaming at Jeff to fill both clutches as soon as the engines caught.
Not knowing how much power was needed, I ran the manual throttle up to half and I made a half sign with my hands to the Chief.
He nodded and did the same.
We could feel the Percy start to move when there was another horrific explosion and the tug swayed and lurched from side to side. I was thrown against the starboard engine exhaust and burned the blue blazes out of my arm and shoulder.
Whatever was going on topside, it was NOT the time to worry about a burn! Smoke and sparks were billowing down the engine room hatch; it was a scene from Hell!
Whoever was on the bitchbox topside screamed, "EMERGENCY, give us all you have. NOW!"
Both the Chief and I slammed the manual throttles as far as they would go, all the way to the stops and both engines started screaming their torment in protest. We could feel the Percy bucking and jumping as the propeller came up to speed when yet another explosion threw us to the floor plates.
This time, Chief Demming had a horrible gash across his face, blood was pouring down his face and front. I screamed at Jeff to help the Chief and I moved to where I could reach the controls on either engine.
It seemed like hours that we raced astern, but in actuality, it probably was less than ten minutes.
The Skipper's voice came down through the bitchbox, he sounded a bit shaky, but so were the rest of us. He ordered both engines stopped and restarted in the ahead direction. I wasn't going to worry him at that point that I was down there alone, it sounded like he had his plate full topside. I got both engines stopped and then I threw the reversing rotators to the ahead direction. I then started the port engine and drug the starboard engine on-line through the bull gear.
Yeah, I know, not a good thing to do, but.........
Again, not knowing how much power the Skipper needed, I set the throttles at one-half. I found out later that it was Billy running the wheel house, Frank Watters, the Mate, had been knocked unconscious and the Skipper was trying to treat Chief Demming's gash that had sliced open his face.
The closest pier at that time of night was South San Francisco and that is where Billy pointed us. He was rough, but to give him his due, he got us to the South City Pier and had called ahead for an ambulance for Chief Demming.
They wanted to take me also, because of my burn, but I said no, somebody had to be there to run the Engine Room. They plastered my shoulder and arm with burn ointment and told me to see a doctor ASAP.
With the Chief and the Mate gone, we were mighty short-handed, the Skipper asked if I could get us back to Crowliss Pier and I told him, "If you can drive this thing, I will make it run!"
I put a very frightened Jeff on the Port Engine and I ran the Starboard Engine. Jeff did everything I told him to do, I don't know if I did it right or not, but we did eventually get back to our home pier.
When I saw the condition of the wheel house, I was appalled, it was a wonder anyone had survived it. The wheel was nothing left except a hub to steer the tug with, one side of the wheel house was completely gone and none of the wheel house controls were even there at all.
They had completely disappeared.
The radio was hanging by one bolt against the back bulkhead and the only way anyone could get to the wheel house was to climb the access ladder on the stack and then jump to the catwalk that surrounded the wheel house.
We found out later that there had been a fire at the Southern Pacific Marine Terminal, fuel and cargo had exploded. There was some talk of sabotage, but I never heard one way or the other.
It took almost a month to piece the Percy back together again. Chief Demming came back to us, his face with a terrible scar running diagonally from his forehead to his chin.
My burns healed, if one knew exactly where to look, they might see a faint scar, but I was lucky. The Mate, Frank Watters had head injuries that the Coast Guard lifted his license and he could not sail again.
We got a new Mate, Vernon Peters; he didn't think much of our little tug and was always complaining about things.
He especially did not like those of us who worked the Engine Room, were it not for the Skipper, we would have likely walked off the boat!
As it was, I heard about an opening coming up on the Amelia Crowliss, a large sea going tug that was almost brand new. I put my bid in for the Amelia, but I didn't hear anything and figured someone more senior had bid on the job.
We finally got the Percy pieced back together and we returned to service. We made several runs to Antioch, it was the beginning of the canning season and shipments were running high. That was always an easy run, and we always had to spend the night.
Antioch itself is a mean little town, some years later I worked there for a few years and it hadn't improved.
The mate must have thought he was in the Navy or something. He was always threatening us with being put on report and wanted to see us in shined shoes and clean, spotless clothes. One day, I had enough and I told Chief Demming, "If that snot nosed bastard comes down on me one more time, I sure hope he knows how to swim!"
Chief told me not to do anything rash and, I guess he and the Skipper had a talk because for the next couple of weeks the Mate didn't even speak to us.
After that, it didn't matter to me. I had gotten notice that the job on the Amelia was mine and I was riding high!
The Skipper and the Chief took me out to dinner, it was kinda sad, I thought the world of both of them and they had gotten me started.
Two days later, the Amelia was in port and I walked over to introduce myself.
There were a couple of guys on board who I already knew and, like the Percy, it was almost family. I hated leaving Billy, he and I had become fast friends, it was a friendship that lasted for many years, he was finally killed in an automobile accident nearly 50 years later.
I gathered all my belongings and made my goodbyes, especially to the Skipper and Chief Demming. They had both taken me under their wings like surrogate fathers and made sure that I was on the right track.
I was more than a bit sad as I walked up the pier with my duffle across my shoulder, but I was just shy of 19 years old and the whole world was my oyster.
TBC
The world of open ocean towing was going to be a new experience, along with friendships as important as parents.