Captain Brad Jenson had been a sailor for twenty-seven years and a skipper for the past ten. He had experienced all manner of weather conditions during his time at sea but what he was witnessing now was beyond anything he had seen or heard of before. His vessel, the Oceanic Supplier, was on a routine supply run to one of the many oilrigs in the Gulf of Mexico. They were transporting frozen food, drilling equipment and personnel to the Olympic Ten oil rig situated approximately eighty kilometres off the coast of Mobile, Alabama. They expected to reach their destination within the next hour. Up until this point, the sailing conditions had been perfect. Clear blue skies, long slow swell and a mild breeze. The kind of day that made Captain Jenson glad he was in his chosen profession. Like many of his crew, and the crews of many other vessels in the Gulf, Brad had started his life at sea as a fisherman. He was the tender age of fourteen when he joined his first boat. It was a shrimping vessel owned by his uncle. He could earn as much as one thousand dollars for a ten-day trip spent hauling in nets from dawn until dusk. As a young, single guy, that had seemed like a fortune. It was only when he got married and had his daughter that he started to question the hours and the money. So, when the oil companies arrived offering far greater rewards and much better working conditions he bucked the family tradition and dropped the shrimping game for the life of a supply boat hand.
As was the norm during these transits to and from the rigs, he had instructed his crew to carry out routine maintenance tasks. He himself was carrying out an inspection inside one of the lifeboats. His more than capable first mate was at the helm. He was a hands-on captain and would not ask the crew to do anything he was not willing to do himself. Whilst he was carrying out the inspection of the lifeboat, the ship suddenly listed steeply to port causing him to fall heavily against the side of the small craft. The ship corrected its position again but began to roll erratically. Captain Jenson grabbed hold of one of the seats and pulled himself back up. He managed to stagger toward the front window where he had a clear view of the bridge and the ship’s bow. He took his VHF radio out of its holder attached to his belt and was just about to call the first mate when he saw something he could not comprehend. Directly in front of the ship’s bow a large column of water was rising up from the sea, gushing spray in all directions like a gigantic fire hydrant. The ship was heading straight for it. He put the radio to his mouth and shouted commands to his colleague on the bridge. “Jeremiah, throw her into manual and engage full astern. Steer her to starboard at the same time.” “Roger, Chief but I think we’re already taking on water.” “Just concentrate on steering away from whatever that thing is. I’ll put out a Mayday call on the VHF.” He could feel the ship starting to list again and knew what his colleague had said was right. They were taking on water fast and it would only be a matter of minutes before they lost control of the sinking vessel. He set the VHF handset to Channel 16.
“Mayday, mayday, mayday. This is the Supply Vessel Oceanic Supplier. Current location 28° 44′ 17.3″ N, 88° 21′ 57.4″ W. We are taking in water and in danger of capsizing. Please send assistance immediately, over.”
“Roger Oceanic Supplier, this is the United States Coast Guard communications station, repeat position, over.”
“United States Coast Guard, this is the Oceanic Supplier current location 28° 44′ 17.3″ N, 88° 21′ 57.4″ W. We are taking in water. Please send assistance immediately, over.”
“Roger Oceanic Supplier, this is the Unit…………….(Inaudible) guard communications station. Repeat (Inaudible)……………”
“Current location 28° 44′ 17.3″ N, 88° 21′ 57.4″ W. Over.”
“Roger. We understand that you are taking on water (Inaudible)…………………ber of persons on board, over.”
“We are a supply vessel and have seventeen onboard, I repeat seventeen crew, over.”
“Oceanic Supplier, repeat position, I say again, repeat position, over.”
The captain looked toward the front of the ship. They were just feet away from sailing straight into the water column. His gaze turned to his colleague on the bridge who seemed frozen to the spot staring at the aberration before them. He pressed the button on the radio handset and was just about to speak when the front of the ship made contact. Before he could register what was happening he was thrown forward against the window of the lifeboat banging his head hard against it, rendering him unconscious.