Day 99
We were sea going men. Submariners. We had been tested and retested for the privilege of crewing aboard a submarine. For centuries long voyages at sea has strained the mental resilience of the hardiest of men. But submarines are a whole different level. Even US Navy Seals, the toughest, most courageous men I have ever met, have told me submariners are crazy and they were uncomfortable doing ops on board at sea. On the surface ships, men have been known to jump overboard when there resolve is drained and the strain of being at sea with no land in sight is too much. Now take away the sun, the moon, the stars and the wind. The passing of time is a clock and the POD (plan of the day) tells you what day it is, and your ability to withstand the mental strain is sorely tested. A sonarman who starts to "hears things" that aren't there, get's immediate transfer orders to a land billet. Mentally unable to cope with sea duty, or some such drivel.
So when my best buddy told me he had heard the voice also, a tremendous weight was lifted from my shoulders. Still we didn't talk about it to others. We didn't want any thoughts of mass psychosis among the sonar division. The more I tried to put it out of my mind the harder it was to ignore. I needed to know what had happened. What had I heard? I took a serious risk and went to talk with the sonar chief. He was a grizzled old sea dog who loved sea history. I hoped maybe he had heard of rumors of similar manifestations. It was not uncommon for the ships chief petty officers to know the scuttlebutt from around the fleet. These guys had been around and had memories like an ex-wife.
"You've heard it too then?" The chief looked at me with what could only be described as pity. "Ellis has already told me he heard it. So your not going crazy. The sea can be hard to understand and even harder to explain." He told me to sit and get comfortable.
"Have you ever heard of the Christine Dore? No? Few people have. She wasn't loaded with treasure, at least not gold, silver and jewels, so she wasn't of interest to anyone. This is how it was told to me.
In 1890, there was a wealthy business man named Justice Dore. He was married and had a beautiful young daughter. His wife's name was Ellen and the daughter was Christine. Justice decided to take his family on a trip around the world, traveling to the farthest reaches of the globe. Places few others had gone before. He purchased a ship and named it the Christine Dore. With an able captain and well seasoned crew they set sail from Portsmouth, New Hampshire north along the coast of Canada then to Greenland. Pushing further north to see the ice shelf and the polar bears. Against the captains recommendations Justice decided to take his wife and daughter, in the launch, over to an ice flow. He was a proud man and wanted to tell his friends back home of his brave daring. The captain warned them again that there was a storm coming and that the ship needed to move south, away from the ice. But Justice wouldn't hear of it. This was a once in a lifetime experience.
They castoff with four able bodied seamen at the oars. Plus the captain sent along the first mate with instructions to bring them back when the wind shifted, by force, if necessary. What the captain didn't realize, what none of them realized, was a dense fog was rolling up from the south. Just minutes after the Dore family reached the ice flow, while watching a polar bear, the fog surrounded them and cut them off from the ship. They were stuck on the shifting ice flow and moving away from the ship.
Tomorrow is my 100th straight day blogging and will bring an end to the Legend of the Christine Dore.
Until tomorrow,
Ken
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