The captain nodded. He knew the engineer was right. He also knew North Korean shipbuilders were not known for their workmanship. His ship would go down like a stone.
There was a loud metallic groan and then a gigantic bang. The crew watched as a crack appeared in the main deck, just in front of the after superstructure. The sounds of ripping steel and grinding metal accompanied a large surge of water from the crack that poured into what was left of the hold. The men watched in horror as the front end of the ship seemed to move to one side and peel away from where they were standing.
The seas continued to work the ship’s hull, first opening the crack, then slamming it shut again for several agonizing minutes. The crew stood petrified as the sounds tore at their ears. They watched in the glow of the ship’s exterior lighting as it illuminated the gaping jaws of the crack that seemed to be feeding on something in the dark water. Finally the crack began to open again. This time it didn’t stop. In a loud snap, the keel finally gave up and let go. The lights on the forward part of the ship went out as the electric lines severed. Just as suddenly, the men felt the deck beneath them heave upward as the last of the sturdy steel plates gave way and the forward end of the ship began to drift away. The men struggled to get back to their feet, having been thrown around the deck by the sudden movement. They saw the cargo area of the ship slide under the water. The bow of the ship began to angle upward, not lifting from the water, but simply tilting like it was going to hang there. Through the dim illumination they watched the bow slowly disappear, being dragged down by the cargo holds and the remaining containers. What appeared to be steam began whistling out of the hatches and windows and a froth of bubbles appeared around the remaining hull as it slid into the water. The bubbles continued to churn the water after the bow had gone from sight.
The Captain stood with tears in his eyes as he watched part of his beloved ship sink. He felt someone place a hand on his shoulder. Soh the old cook stood beside him. Both men just stood and shared the moment of sorrow, neither speaking, just being there.
“It’s floating,” said one of the crewmen nearby. The words broke the captain out of his private thoughts and into the present. He looked down where the man was pointing. There, riding easily in the water was the section of containers that had held the launching crew. It floated freely on the water. There was light coming from a small fixture on the top next to the hatch going below.
The Captain sprang into action. “Get some lines on that thing and guide it to what’s left of the ship’s side!” he yelled. The remaining crew sprang to life, rushing to break out the nylon mooring hawsers stored just aft of the superstructure on the main deck. Once removed, one end was lowered to the containers as they bumped along the forward remains of the ship. A crewman expertly slid down the line to the top of the containers and a loop at the end of the line was threaded through an attachment ring and secured. Another line was lowered and the crewman attached it on the other end of the containers. With great effort, the crew began to ease their makeshift raft to the side of the ship and secure it.
Half way through the process the engineer ran into the pilot house. “Captain! The engine room’s flooding and we won’t be able to stop it. When the bow tore away it sprung plates back another ten feet beyond the aft bulkhead of the cargo hold. I can give you lights for maybe another 20 minutes, then the water will be up to the generators,” he said in the confusion.
The captain nodded and pointed to the containers being moved around to the side. “See the light? This thing may have its own generator onboard. If it does, we need to get fuel to it and see about water. That’s our lifeboat, Hahn. Let’s make the best of it till the power goes.”
The engineer nodded and ran to the side. “I need to get down there,” he said. The leading seaman nodded and grabbed a smaller line, throwing it over the side and tying it to a bulkhead cleat. “We’re holding this thing right below,” he yelled. “Climb down while we finish pulling it around.”
The engineer slapped the man on the back and grinned. “If this thing starts to sink, don’t forget to leave me a line,” he said grinning. He then grabbed a flashlight just inside the pilothouse, took the line in his hands, and eased over the side and out of sight.
The crewman who had secured the containers held the line for him and greeted him when he lit on the deck. The engineer looked around, using the flashlight to inspect some of the welds holding the containers together. He motioned the man over. “Tell the Bos’n to get some steel wire down here and run it around this whole thing to hold it a little more secure. The more the better,” he said. “I’m going inside to see if this thing will float.”
The crewman nodded and started yelling instructions up to the ship while he went over to the hatch. To his surprise, the hatch was only loosely secured. He turned the handle and pulled it open. Hahn was surprised to find the space brightly lit. Lowering himself through the hatch, his feet found the ladder and he climbed down.
He had climbed into a tomb. Scattered around the space were the bodies of the launch crew. A total of 12 men were in the spaces. Each had been shot and left for dead. After checking for a pulse on several, Hahn decided it was no use and got back to checking for leaks. Surprisingly, there were none. The spaces had been constructed to be both waterproof and airtight to protect the delicate equipment — still operating in the first open space. There was a berthing space, dining facility, kitchen, radio and communications room, and farther on a storage area and room for the generator. It was obvious these weren’t just containers welded together, but a complete unit designed and constructed to take a lot of punishment. Checking the generator room, he found the fuel tanks nearly full. Glancing around, he saw why. The generator hadn’t come on until the ship’s power had been interrupted. He ran back to the kitchen area and found the water tank. Holding about 200 gallons, it was nearly empty. Hahn raced back up the ladder and through the hatch.
“Get a water hose down here right now!” he screamed up at the men now looking down at him. “Then tell the cook to start bringing down every bit of food he can!”
The hose took about 5 minutes to hook up. Then the water poured through it nearly filling the onboard tank when the lights on the ship began to blink. They dimmed briefly, came back brightly again, then blinked one final time before going out forever.
By this time the cook had taken a party of men and brought up a number of boxes of canned food. There was also some frozen meat and fish and several containers of dry stores. Now the ship was settling deeper and tilting further forward as the water filled the engineering spaces. The captain directed the food be lowered to their new home and for the men to abandon ship.
The evolution was actually quite orderly. The food was lowered or dropped to the deck and stacked near the hatch. At the same time, the Bos’n lowered several lines, equipment, and other materials he thought would come in handy. The men were allowed to go quickly to their berthing spaces and retrieve whatever personal items they wanted to bring. These too were lowered and the men followed down the lines until they were all assembled on the deck. The captain, as per tradition, was the last to leave. He had gathered the ship’s log and lowered it with his few belongings to the crew below, then with a final look around, crawled over the lines and lowered himself to the deck with his men.
He looked sorrowfully up the side of his old ship, and then shook his head. He turned to his remaining crewmen huddled together. “We have been made fools of today. Our country wanted to sacrifice us for some purpose we are unaware of,” he said sadly. “There has never been a more loyal crew to me or the country we served. Since our country now considers us dead, we may now make decisions on our own to live.” He looked around the small deck they were standing on. “This is going to be our home until someone comes for us. So let’s make the best of it. I am sorry I let you down by not finding out the treachery imposed on us. I am sorry we were not able to save our ship,” he said before the tears began to flow. He lowered his head, unable to speak further.