It's Unlucky Not to Be Superstitious

It was Steak Night aboard the harbor Tugboat Samson moored at Pier 13 on the San Francisco waterfront. At the dinner meal , Deckhand Nicky, a flibbertigibbet in Captain Billy's well seasoned opinion, spilled the salt shaker onto the galley table and apparently didn't possess enough common sense to toss a pinch over his left shoulder smack dab into The Devil's eyes. The other two crew members, Mister Mate Mark and Chief the Engineer, were too occupied chowing down their supper and were oblivious to this transgression. After all, it was Steak Night. However, for Captain Billy this blatant affront to the fates sparked a doubt about the future of the Tugboat Samson and her crew . His unspoken concern furrowed his brow and slackened the pace of his chewing. His jaws throttled back from "All Ahead Full" to "Half Ahead" then "Ahead Slow" and finally "All Engines Stop". The once tender and juicy meal of of a perfectly cooked rare T-Bone and a fresh garden salad had now turned to ashes and bitter herbs in his mouth. Captain Billy's appetite had ran out of steam. He arose from the table and cleared his place setting. As he scraped the remains off his dinner plate into the galley slop bucket he saw several tin cans amongst the trash, all opened upside down. He now knew for certain that there would trouble ahead for the Tugboat Samson and crew. Not visible as of yet, but approaching from somewhere beyond the horizon. It was like tapping the barometer with finger on clear day and watching the needle take a dramatic swing to the left.

Later that evening, as Captain Billy lay in his bunk ruminating about what had transpired aboard his command during supper. Perhaps a demotion of rank from flibbertigibbet to a Jonah or maybe something even worse was in store for Deckhand Nicky, he opined to himself. These thoughts were soon eclipsed by a notion something wasn't quite right with the Tugboat Samson. The boat was tied up however it wasn't moving in the typical rocking and rolling motion of a vessel afloat but rather it was too steady. As he got out of his bunk to use the head, the water in the commode was askew as it was climbing up one side. The boat definitely was listing to port. Captain Billy quickly got dressed and went out on deck to check the mooring lines which most likely needed to be slackened. What he discovered was much worse. The tugboat earlier had tied up at the time of high water of a King Tide. Now with the water level dropping on the ebb , the protective tires hung on chains to the sides of the tugboat had settled atop the cap rail edge of Pier 13, San Francisco. Apparently they had snagged this edge causing the ever increasing the tilt. He set about the boat to find Deckhand Nicky and Mister Mate Mark. He found them both in galley gaping at the telly. Not one to get emotional about dereliction of duty and that brevity is the soul of command, he spoke only two words in a low tone, "Fire up." This was enough for the errant pair to leap to their feet and hit the deck a running. With the engines soon rumbling to life, Captain Billy was up in the wheelhouse and the crew was out on deck. Captain Billy looked at the ten degrees port list registering on the inclinometer and began jockeying the throttles. Mister Mate Mark and Deckhand Nicky put slack in the mooring lines fore and aft. Captain Billy opposed the throttle handles , ahead port and back starboard, to the engines and then slowly increased power. He then swung the helm to full right rudder. Black diesel exhaust belched from it's smokestack and the Tugboat Samson slid off the cap rail like a replay of it's launching down the slip ways of the shipyard in Oakland where she was built many years before. The tugboat settled back on an even keel on the waters of the bay and the immediate crisis had been resolved. This small drama triggered a memory for Captain Billy. As much younger man he had witnessed the launching ceremony of the good Tugboat Samson when it was brand spanking new. He now recalled a small but significant detail of the event. At the christening the bottle of Champagne had taken several whacks to break it open on the bow of the Tugboat Samson. Lost in this thought, Captain Billy caught himself gazing unfocused to some faraway spot out wheelhouse window. He snapped out of this reverie and saw his own reflection inside on the window glass. The mirror image of himself with the setting New Moon beaming behind him through the back window of the wheelhouse made for a disturbing portrait. For Captain Billy the foreboding again materialized like the first catspaw of wind riffling calm and glassy seas of a forecasted typhoon.

Friday morning found the Tugboat Samson still tied up at Pier 13 on the San Francisco waterfront. At 0530 Captain Billy came out of his stateroom freshly shaved and showered and squared away for the six to twelve watch. He headed down the passageway to the galley for a morning cup of coffee . At the Bunn coffee machine stood Deckhand Nicky stirring his coffee mug with a knife. His other hand held a sandwich he was munching on. From the it's overfilled bread slices it was oozing copious amounts of his very favorite and most particular brand of potted meat that Deckhand Nicky had a very strong penchant for. The Mate and the Engineer were at the galley table silently playing a round of cribbage and sipping at their mugs of Joe. A large bunch of raggedly yellow daisies jammed in an upside down pineapple juice can had been placed on the table. Before Captain Billy could comment on this brash floral display of bad Juju, Mister Mate Mark reported that Deckhand Nicky had acquired them on the beach and thought that the flowers would cheer up our Captain as he seemed a bit pensive as of late. Chief the Engineer camouflaged a snicker with a loud slurp of coffee. Without a word, Captain Billy exited the Galley headed out on deck for a needed breath of fresh air to clear his mind of what had just transpired. Passing by Deckhand Nicky's open stateroom door he spied a ball cap parked on his bunk. He shuddered as if a goose had just walked over grave.

At 0700 it was time for the Tugboat Samson to get underway and go to work and make money for the company. Captain Billy made his way up the steep stairs to the wheelhouse. He heard a peculiar whistling sound coming from above. It was Deckhand Nicky who was finishing up his morning wheelhouse sanitary routine and he was whistling a funeral dirge of a song while he worked. The melody he was attempting reminded Captain Billy of a wounded banshee . When Deckhand Nicky saw the Captain the maudlin tune died out on his lips and he greeted , "A very good morning to you Captain, and a T.G.I.F to boot!". Captain Billy looked at the calendar, and sure enough as if according to Hoyle, the date was the 13th. Figures!, thought Captain Billy to himself.

The workday had begun for the Tugboat Samson. The brawny vessel churned it's way up and back, to and fro across the chilly waters of San Francisco Bay to it's assigned ship jobs. All of the ship work jobs had gone smoothly enough and without a hitch for Captain Billy. The rope hawser line, as thick as man's leg, went out and in from the bow winch and through the bullnose of the Tugboat Samson and up to the ships it was assisting. Cargo ships and oil tankers were helped on and off the docks of the bay. The Tugboat Samson went from job to job to earn it's pay by pushing and pulling. Tugboat work could be divided into five parts. 1. Head for the tire marks on the hull of the ship left by the previous tugboat. 2. Come alongside and don't hit the ship too hard when landing. 3. Get a Hawser Line up and make fast to the ship. 4. Standby to be told to push, pull or stop by the Pilot up on the ship, initiative is generally frowned upon. 5. Simply reverse the order when the ship is outbound. Things had been going so well, almost too well thought Captain Billy. The half dozen or so jobs were completed without a single error. This only confirmed in Captain Billy's mind that when things went sour, as they most assuredly would, it would be a disaster of titanic proportions. At a quarter to Noon Captain Billy looked aft out the wheelhouse window. On the back deck were all three of his crew each with a fresh Marlboro stuck in their gobs. They were about have their customary post lunch smoke. Deckhand Nicky struck a single match and lighted the cigarettes for Mister Mate Mark and Chief the Engineer and then himself. At that moment Captain Billy made up his mind. A necessary evil would be needed if he alone was to save the Good Tugboat Samson.

Captain Billy went up ten minutes sooner than usual to the wheelhouse for the 1800 to Midnight watch change. The Tugboat Samson was finishing up the last ship job of the day and was following close behind the stern of an outbound freighter. He relieved Mister Mate Mark at the helm. The Mate was happy at this early watch change which he perceived as an act of kindness from a good hearted Captain and went below to the galley for a head start on his supper. Deckhand Nicky was still on watch up by the hawser winch on the bow of Tugboat Samson standing by to retrieve the hawser line that was still made fast to the centerline stern chock of the departing ship which was underway at a fair clip. There was a surplus of slack in the hawser line laying on deck between the bullnose and hawser winch and, low and behold, Deckhand Nicky was standing in the bight of the line. Captain Billy saw his chance took deliberate action. He pushed a lever and set the hawser winch brake and then pulled back on the engine throttle handles and the tugboat lost speed and rapidly dropped back away from the stern of the ship. The hawser line instantly rose off the deck, all it's slack disappeared in an instant and it became iron bar tight between the stern of the ship and the Tugboat Samson. The heavy line caught Deckhand Nicky across his waist like a nocked an arrow in a drawn bowstring that was just now released. This launched his body in a high arcing trajectory over the side of the tugboat and toward the chilly waters of the bay. To Captain Billy's amazement, but not to his surprise ,whatever it was he had just catapulted off his tugboat transformed during it's flight into a horned red demonic figure, complete with pointed ears and tail, wearing a red suit and a red cape. Captain Billy recalled he had seen the identical image in the galley pantry on the label of Deckhand Nicky's most favorite and very particular brand of canned Underwood Premium Quality Deviled Ham Spread. The horrific creature crash landed into the bay off the starboard bow of the Tugboat Samson and it exploded into a geyser of boiling water and a cloud of scalding steam. After a moment or two an odorous whiff of sulphur mixed with a wet goat smell offended Captain Billy's nose. His suspicions most certainly were confirmed with regards as to exactly who the freshly departed Deckhand Nicky was. Captain Billy continued with his deliberate actions by waiting for a moment or two. Only then he yelled from the open wheelhouse window to the now empty deck, "WATCH OUT!" and for an added good measure yelled, "MAN OVERBOARD!". Captain Billy then sounded the G.Q. Alarm Bell to muster the remainder of the crew of Tugboat Samson to deal with the aftermath of this fateful event. There was one task all ready taken care of though. Earlier that day, before coming on watch, Captain Billy had already filled out, completed. dated and signed the required CG-2692 Report of Marine Accident, Injury or Death.

Later, a Board of Inquiry was conducted on behalf of the casualty and presumed loss of life, (as his body was not as yet recovered from the waters of the bay), of Merchant Mariner Ordinary Seaman Nicholas A. DeVille aboard the Tugboat Samson. At the U. S. Coast Guard Sector Eleven Headquarters on Yerba Buena Island the proceedings were held . In the somber Hearing Room sat Captain Billy at one end of the proverbial "Long Green Table". At the opposite end sat a half dozen Coast Guard Officers of the Board in full dress uniform . What was the reason Deckhand Nicky was killed in such a tragic and lamentable accident they asked? Captain Billy silently tallied up the thirteen reasons in his head.

1. Spilled salt and didn't toss a pinch over his left shoulder.
2. Opened tin cans upside down. Evokes a capsizing.
3. Unlucky number at Pier 13.
4. Champagne bottle not breaking on first try when launching a new vessel.
5. Stirring a beverage with a knife. "Stir with knife, Stir in strife!'
6. Flowers on a boat.
7. Pineapple on a boat. Captain Cook was killed in the Islands of Pineapples!
8. Seeing the New Moon for first time in it's lunar cycle in a reflection.
9. Starting a voyage on a Friday, especially the 13th.
10. A hat on the bed.
11. Whistling on a boat especially in the wheelhouse. Conjures up wind.
12. Hearing a Banshee means someone is about to die.
13. Lighting three cigarettes with one match. Gives a sniper time to draw a bead.

Captain Billy considered his reply and in his mind concluded that you have to give The Devil it's due and, after all, brevity is the soul of command. He spoke only two words, "Bad luck."