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Reports written by Susan
Wels
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Images produced by Matt Tulloch | |||
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Sunday, August 30, 1998
"The bump threw us off our feet. We were told to stay at our posts."
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We are riding the hurricane’s tail. As experiences go, it’s a wild one. Earthquakes usually rock you
for a few minutes at most, but these hurricane-force gales and seas have
been slamming us senseless hour after hour, all day and all night, flinging
us into walls, hurling our belongings on the floor and flooding the ship’s
fantail chin-deep in churning water. |
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 Now,
I could never climb a rope as a kid in P.E. class. Why in the world somebody
thought I could do it with wet hands, in the middle of the North Atlantic,
with a hurricane coming on, is beyond me.But, as I’ve learned after getting in and out of many Zodiacs, the rule of thumb is "jump or die." So as the boat lifted on a wave, I grabbed the rope and tried to pull myself up the six or seven feet to the ship’s rail. No chance. My rubber boots couldn’t get traction on the OV’s slippery hull. And then the Zodiac pulled away from me on a wave. For a few seconds, I was dangling from the side of the OV like Kate Winslet hanging from the stern of the Titanic. Only now that I know what it feels like, I know she didn’t look anywhere near scared enough. Fortunately, on the next upswell, Julien gave me a push from underneath, and up on deck, Tom Dettweiler managed to haul me aboard the OV by my wrist. Half an hour later, in even worse seas, George Tulloch tried to come aboard by the same rope and got brutally slammed between the Zodiac and the ship. Luckily, he managed to hold on and was pulled aboard—but if it was as scary for him as it was for those of us watching, it’ll be a long time before he tries to board a ship like that again. After all the excitement this morning, I went to bed. Normally, that would be a calming experience. But as the winds and seas continued to get wilder, even lying on a bunk became almost unimaginably stressful. I was in a top berth, inside the bow, and as hurricane winds of up to 70 miles an hour shrieked over the water, I heard huge waves pounding the ship with body blows that boomed through the steel hull. Some of the waves generated so much G-force that they levitated me right off the mattress, and I had to brace myself against the top of a locker to keep from flying off. One enormous wave flung me off the ladder as I was climbing to my bed and hurled me bodily across the room. |
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 At
8:00 p.m., the really big seas started coming on— ranks of 30-foot
waves, one after another, and gusts of over 80 miles an hour.As a somewhat rash antidote for seasickness, some OV passengers have gathered outside the bridge tonight to watch the full force of the weather. The ship is facing straight into the waves, and they watch as each huge wall of black water rises above them, curls and crashes on the bow. None of them have seen anything like this before. In weather this big, you begin to feel that a 200-foot ship offers only a little more protection than a tin can. And for most people who spend their lives on land, 30- to 50-foot waves, in the middle of the North Atlantic, are in a category of danger all their own. "To understand waves that big, you need a geology degree," says Discovery Channel cameraman Mark Knobil, "because those aren’t waves, they’re mountains." Fortunately, after tonight we’ll be saying goodbye to Bonnie. But heading our way, and picking up speed, is her fiercer sister, Hurricane Danielle. Back to the Expedition Calendar |
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Although
Hurricane Bonnie has been roaring through the North Atlantic, her eye,
and her full fury, is passing north of our position. So at least for now,
we’re staying here, on the Titanic site. Expedition leaders
knew we’d be in for some wild weather, but they were also confident
that our ships could take it.