1053 lines
55 KiB
Markdown
1053 lines
55 KiB
Markdown
---
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created_at: '2014-07-21T19:06:45.000Z'
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title: 'High Tech Cowboys of the Deep Seas: The Race to Save the Cougar Ace (2008)'
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url: http://archive.wired.com/science/discoveries/magazine/16-03/ff_seacowboys?currentPage=all
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author: incision
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points: 62
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story_text: ''
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comment_text:
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num_comments: 15
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story_id:
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story_title:
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story_url:
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parent_id:
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created_at_i: 1405969605
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_tags:
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- story
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- author_incision
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- story_8065417
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objectID: '8065417'
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year: 2008
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---
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![](https://www.wired.com/wp-content/uploads/archive/images/article/magazine/1603/ff_titan_f.jpg)
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The Cougar Ace lists at a precarious angle in Wide Bay, Alaska. Photo:
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Courtesy of US Coast Guard **Latitude 48° 14 North. Longitude 174° 26
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West.**
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Almost midnight on the North Pacific, about 230 miles south of Alaska's
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Aleutian Islands. A heavy fog blankets the sea. There's nothing but the
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wind spinning eddies through the mist.
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Out of the darkness, a rumble grows. The water begins to vibrate.
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Suddenly, the prow of a massive ship splits the fog. Its steel hull
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rises seven stories above the water and stretches two football fields
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back into the night. A 15,683-horsepower engine roars through the holds,
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pushing 55,328 tons of steel. Crisp white capital letters — COUGAR ACE —
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spell the ship's name above the ocean froth. A deep-sea car transport,
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its 14 decks are packed with 4,703 new Mazdas bound for North America.
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Estimated cargo value: $103 million.
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On the bridge and belowdecks, the captain and crew begin the intricate
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process of releasing water from the ship's ballast tanks in preparation
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for entry into US territorial waters. They took on the water in Japan to
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keep the ship steady, but US rules require that it be dumped here to
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prevent contaminating American marine environments. It's a tricky
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procedure. To maintain stability and equilibrium, the ballast tanks need
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to be drained of foreign water and simultaneously refilled with local
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water. The bridge gives the go-ahead to commence the operation, and a
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ship engineer uses a hydraulic-powered system to open the starboard tank
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valves. Water gushes out one side of the ship and pours into the ocean.
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It's July 23, 2006.
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In the crew's quarters below the bridge, Saw "Lucky" Kyin, the ship's
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41-year-old Burmese steward, rinses off in the common shower. The ship
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rolls underneath his feet. He's been at sea for long stretches of the
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past six years. In his experience, when a ship rolls to one side, it
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generally rolls right back the other way.
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This time it doesn't. Instead, the tilt increases. For some reason, the
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starboard ballast tanks have failed to refill properly, and the ship has
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abruptly lost its balance. At the worst possible moment, a large swell
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hits the Cougar Ace and rolls the ship even farther to port. Objects
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begin to slide across the deck. They pick up momentum and crash against
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the port-side walls as the ship dips farther. Wedged naked in the shower
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stall, Kyin is confronted by an undeniable fact: The Cougar Ace is
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capsizing.
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He lunges for a towel and staggers into the hallway as the ship's
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windmill-sized propeller spins out of the water. Throughout the ship,
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the other 22 crew members begin to lose their footing as the decks rear
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up. There are shouts and screams. Kyin escapes through a door into the
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damp night air. He's barefoot and dripping wet, and the deck is now a
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slick metal ramp. In an instant, he's skidding down the slope toward the
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Pacific. He slams into the railings and his left leg snaps, bone
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puncturing skin. He's now draped naked and bleeding on the railing,
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which has dipped to within feet of the frigid ocean. The deck towers 105
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feet above him like a giant wave about to break. Kyin starts to pray.
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**Jackson Hole, Wyoming, 4 am.**
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A phone rings. Rich Habib opens his eyes and blinks in the darkness. He
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reaches for the phone, disturbing a pair of dogs cuddled around him. He
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was going to take them to the river for a swim today. Now the sound of
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his phone means that somewhere, somehow, a ship is going down, and he's
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going to have to get out of bed and go save it.
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It always starts like this. Last Christmas Day, an 835-foot container
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vessel ran aground in Ensenada, Mexico. The phone rang, he hopped on a
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plane, and was soon on a Jet Ski pounding his way through the Baja surf.
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The ship had run aground on a beach while loaded with approximately
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1,800 containers. He had to rustle up a Sikorsky Skycrane — one of the
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world's most powerful helicopters — to offload the
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cargo.
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![](https://www.wired.com/wp-content/uploads/archive/images/article/magazine/1603/ff_seacowboys_rich_habib.jpg)Rich
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Habib, Senior Salvage Master
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Photo: Andrew HetheringtonShip captains spend their careers trying to
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avoid a collision or grounding like this. But for Habib, nearly every
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month brings a welcome disaster. While people are shouting "Abandon
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ship\!" Habib is scrambling aboard. He's been at sea since he was 18,
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and now, at 51, his tanned face, square jaw, and
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don't-even-try-bullshitting-me stare convey a world-weary air of
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command. He holds an unlimited master's license, which means he's one of
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the select few who are qualified to pilot ships of any size, anywhere in
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the world. He spent his early years captaining hulking vessels that
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lifted other ships on board and hauled them across oceans. He helped the
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Navy transport a nuclear refueling facility from California to Hawaii.
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Now he's the senior salvage master — the guy who runs the show at sea —
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for Titan Salvage, a highly specialized outfit of men who race around
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the world saving ships.
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They're a motley mix: American, British, Swedish, Panamanian. Each has a
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specialty — deep-sea diving, computer modeling, underwater welding,
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big-engine repair. And then there's Habib, the guy who regularly
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helicopters onto the deck of a sinking ship, greets whatever crew is
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left, and takes command of the stricken
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vessel.
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![](https://www.wired.com/wp-content/uploads/archive/images/article/magazine/1603/ff_seacowboys_shipdiagram.jpg)\#\#\#
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The Cougar Ace
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**Length:** 654 feet
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**Weight:** 55,328 tons
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**Decks:** 14
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**Max stowage capacity:** 5,542 cars
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**Ballast:** 11 stabilization tanks (teal)
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**Crew on July 23, 2006:** 23
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Salvage work has long been viewed as a form of legal piracy. The
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insurers of a disabled ship with valuable cargo will offer from 10 to 70
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percent of the value of the ship and its cargo to anyone who can save
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it. If the salvage effort fails, they don't pay a dime. It's a risky
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business: As ships have gotten bigger and cargo more valuable, the
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expertise and resources required to mount a salvage effort have steadily
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increased. When a job went bad in 2004, Titan ended up with little more
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than the ship's bell as a souvenir. Around the company's headquarters in
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Fort Lauderdale, Florida, it's known as the $11.6 million bell.
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But the rewards have grown as well. When the Titan team refloated that
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container ship in Mexico, the company was offered $30 million, and it's
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holding out for more. That kind of money finances staging grounds in
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southern Florida, England, and Singapore and pays the salaries of 45
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employees who drive Lotuses, BMWs, and muscle cars tricked out with loud
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aftermarket DynoMax exhaust systems. There's also a wall at Titan
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headquarters with a row of photos of the men who died on the job. Three
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have been killed in the past three years.
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Titan's biggest competitors are Dutch firms, which have dominated the
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business for at least a century due in part to the pumping expertise
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they developed to keep their low-lying lands dry. But 20 years ago, a
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couple of yacht brokers in southern Florida — David Parrot and Dick
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Fairbanks — got fed up dealing with crazy, rich clients and decided that
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saving sinking ships would be more fun. They didn't really know much
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about the salvage business but thought that the Dutch companies had come
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to rely too much on heavy machinery. When a ship was in distress, the
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Dutch firms invariably wanted to use their impressive fleet of tugs and
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heavy-lift cranes. Fairbanks envisioned a different kind of salvage
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company — one with no tugs or cranes of its own. Instead, the new outfit
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would buy jet-ready containers for pumps and generators, and when a ship
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called for help the Titan team would charter anything from a Learjet to
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a 747, fly it to the airport nearest the ship, and then hire a speedboat
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or a helicopter to get a team aboard. If they needed a tug, they'd rent
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one.
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Titan's business plan hinged on the idea that ships could be saved by
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human ingenuity, not horsepower, and the company's unconventional
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approach worked. When a container ship ran aground in a remote part of
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Iceland in the mid-'90s, the Dutch wanted to bring in their cranes.
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Titan jury-rigged the ship's own 198-ton cranes and used those instead —
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no long-distance transport needed. In 1992, a freighter sank alongside a
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dock in Dunkirk, France. Again, the Dutch called for cranes, but Titan
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won the contract by proposing a novel approach: It hired a naval
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architect to create a computer model of the ship. The model indicated
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that the vessel would float again if water was pumped out of the holds
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in a specific sequence. Titan put the plan into action using a few
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crates of relatively inexpensive pumps; the ship bobbed to the surface
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as if by magic. Since then, a naval architect capable of rapidly
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building digital 3-D ship models has been a key member of the Titan
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team.
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Jolted awake in Wyoming, Habib pushes himself out of bed. His dogs
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cluster around him. He gives Beauregard a scratch behind the ear.
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Clearly the dogs want to go along, but he'll need a little more help
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than they can give. It's time to mobilize the Titan A-team.
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**Seattle, Washington. Breezy, warm.**
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Marty Johnson zips through the traffic in his black BMW Z3 convertible.
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He's wearing shades, and though he just turned 40 he has a boyish look
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that suits the car. But the cool-guy persona has its limits. He just
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learned how to drive a stick shift, so he takes the long way around town
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to avoid hills. He is actually a shy naval architect who likes to
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discuss the early history of J. R. R. Tolkien's Middle-earth and certain
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aspects of particle physics. But he has a taste for fast cars and the
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money to buy them, thanks to an unusual ability to build digital models
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of ships.
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Since graduating first in his class from New York's Webb Institute, a
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preeminent undergraduate naval architecture school, Johnson has traveled
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the world with his laptop, building 3-D models and helping refloat
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sunken things. He was on the team that recovered the Japanese fishing
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trawler sunk by a US submarine off Hawaii in 2001, and he oversaw a
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system to lift a submerged F-14 from 220 feet of water near San Diego in
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2004. In his free time, he wins boat races in which the skippers build
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their vessels from scratch in six hours or less.
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But so far, Johnson has refloated only vessels that are already sunk.
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Most days, he's cooped up in an office at the port, waiting for
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something exciting to happen. His skills don't go to waste — he's
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particularly well known for designing a 76-foot tugboat able to navigate
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rivers as shallow as 3 feet. But Johnson wants more; he wants to be one
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of those guys who drops onto the deck of a sinking ship and saves the
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day.
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He's about to get his chance. His office calls: Rich Habib wants him on
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a salvage job for the history books — one Johnson might have missed if
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not for a lucky break. Habib's usual 3-D modeler, Phil Reed, is visiting
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his in-laws in Chicago, and his wife won't let him go to Alaska. He
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recommends Johnson, who has worked with Habib once
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before.
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![](https://www.wired.com/wp-content/uploads/archive/images/article/magazine/1603/ff_seacowboys_p2.jpg)
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Photo: Courtesy of US Coast GuardThe job is daunting: Board the Cougar
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Ace with the team and build an on-the-fly digital replica of the ship.
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The car carrier has 33 tanks containing fuel, freshwater, and ballast.
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The amount of fluid in each tank affects the way the ship moves at sea,
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as does the weight and placement of the cargo. It's a complex system
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when the ship is upright and undamaged. When the cargo holds take on
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seawater or the ship rolls off-center — both of which have occurred —
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the vessel becomes an intricate, floating puzzle.
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Johnson will have to unravel the complexity. He'll rely on ship diagrams
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and his own onboard measurements to re-create the vessel using an
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obscure maritime modeling software known as GHS — General HydroStatics.
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The model will allow him to simulate and test what will happen as water
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is transferred from tank to tank in an effort to use the weight of the
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liquid to roll the ship upright. If the model isn't accurate, the
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operation could end up sinking the ship.
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Habib thinks Johnson is up to the task. In 2004 they worked together on
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a partially sunken passenger ferry near Sitka, Alaska. The hull was
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gashed open on a rock — water had flooded in everywhere. The US Coast
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Guard safety officer told Habib and Johnson to get off the ship, saying
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it was about to sink completely. It was too dangerous.
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Habib refused. His point of view: It was his ship now, and he would do
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what he wanted. The safety officer reprimanded Habib and told him that
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no ship was worth "even the tip of your pinky."
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Habib smiled. Insurance lawyers have calculated the value of a pinky —
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$14,000, tops — and that's far less than the value of a modern
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commercial vessel.
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Johnson told the Coast Guard not to worry; the ferry would be floating
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again in three days at exactly 10:36 in the morning. The Coast Guard was
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skeptical but, three days later, as the tide peaked at 10:36 am, the
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ferry bobbed up and floated off the rock. It was a rush to be that
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right.
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So when he gets the message inviting him to join the team headed to the
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Cougar Ace, his only question is "When do we leave?"
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**Trinidad and Tobago. Offshore.**
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And if I say to you tomorrow, take my hand child come with me. The
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languid sound of Led Zeppelin's "What Is and What Should Never Be"
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drifts across the Caribbean. A 24-foot fishing boat lolls in the blue
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waters, the stereo cranked up in the wheelhouse. It's to a castle I will
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take you, where what's to be they say will be. The island of Trinidad —
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lush, green, rugged — is just off the port bow. A few beers remain in
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the bottom of the boat's 98-can cooler, and a bottle of Guyanese rum
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sloshes about on the floorboards. On the back deck, a fishing pole
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droops lazily from the densely tattooed arm of Colin Trepte: boat owner,
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rum drinker, and deep-sea diver who's always ready with a roguish grin
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for the ladies.
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Trepte loves days like this — mid-80s, a couple of snapper in the
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bucket, and the sun warm on his face. A sign in the wheelhouse states
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"This is My Ship, and I'll Do as I Damn Please." A silver skull dangles
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from a loop on his left
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ear.
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![](https://www.wired.com/wp-content/uploads/archive/images/article/magazine/1603/ff_seacowboys_colin_trepte.jpg)Colin
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Trepte, Lead Salvage Diver
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Photo: Andrew Hetherington Trepte's youth in the east end of London
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seems a long way off. The tattoos tell the story: The naked,
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big-breasted woman on his forearm stares at a demon etched in Puerto
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Rico, where a cargo ship ran aground. The dragon on his shoulder is from
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Iceland, where he cut a grounded freighter into pieces. Some of the
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designs have only been outlined — a crystal ball on his back remains
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deliberately empty. It represents the fact that, as a Titan salvage
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diver, he never knows when the phone will ring. And when it does, he
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could be bound for Eritrea or Tierra del Fuego, and the only real
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question is which bag to bring — cold weather or warm. Both are packed,
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waiting ashore in his bungalow outside Port of Spain on Trinidad.
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His cell rings. It's Habib. Trepte sighs. All good days must come to an
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end.
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"Cold weather or warm, mate?" Trepte
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asks.
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![](https://www.wired.com/wp-content/uploads/archive/images/article/magazine/1603/ff_seacowboys_p4.jpg)
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Photo: Courtesy of US Coast Guard**North Pacific. July 25, 2006.**
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In the hours since the Cougar Ace rolled, the Coast Guard and Air
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National Guard have scrambled three helicopters from Anchorage and, in a
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daring rescue effort, plucked the entire 23-man crew off the ship. Nyi
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Nyi Tun, the ship's captain, has ordered his crew to stay mum on the
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cause of the accident, and Mitsui O.S.K. Lines — the ship's owners —
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have declined to offer a detailed explanation. Because the incident
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occurred in international waters, the Coast Guard has decided not to
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investigate any further. Only Lucky Kyin talked that night. He was
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whisked to an Anchorage hospital, where a reporter from the Anchorage
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Daily News asked him how he felt. His answer: "The whole body is pain."
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As to the cause of the accident, all Kyin will offer is that it
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interrupted his shower.
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[Rich Habib's journal, July 24,
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Monday](https://www.wired.com/science/discoveries/magazine/16-03/ff_seacowboys_journal#July24)
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The phone wakes Rich Habib at 4 am in Jackson Hole on July 24. The
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Cougar Ace has flipped, and he begins mobilizing the Titan team. Right
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now, it doesn't really matter how it happened. What matters is that the
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Cougar Ace has become a multimillion-dollar ghost ship drifting toward
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the rocky shoals of the Aleutian Islands. What's worse, according to the
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crew, the ship is taking on water. The Coast Guard alone doesn't have
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the capability or expertise to handle this kind of emergency, and
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officials fear that the ship will sink or break up on shore. Either way,
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the cars would be lost, and the 176,366 gallons of fuel in the ship's
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tanks would threaten the area's wildlife and fishing grounds. Mazda,
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Mitsui, and their insurers would take a massive hit.
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At first, executives at Mitsui seem to think the ship is a lost cause.
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They contact Titan, but then they wait for about 24 hours, apparently
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under the impression that the vessel will go down before anybody can
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save it. When they realize that it will stay afloat long enough to break
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up on the shore of the Aleutians, they agree to sign what's known as a
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Lloyd's Open Form agreement. It's a so-called no-cure, no-pay
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arrangement. If Titan doesn't save the ship, it doesn't get paid. But if
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it succeeds, its compensation is based on the value of the ship and the
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cargo — in this case, a still-to-be-calculated fortune.
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With the deal done, Titan charters a Conquest turboprop out of
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Anchorage. The propellers sputter to life. The Titan crew buckles in for
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the three-and-a-half-hour journey to Dutch Harbor, a small fishing town
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about 800 miles west of Anchorage on the Aleutian
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chain.
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![](https://www.wired.com/wp-content/uploads/archive/images/article/magazine/1603/ff_seacowboys_hank_bergman.jpg)Hank
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Bergman, Salvage Engineer
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Photo: Andrew Hetherington But before they take off, a final member of
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the team hops on. It's Titan mechanic Hank Bergman, the Swedish cowboy.
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As a young man in a small town in Sweden, Bergman inexplicably developed
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an affinity for Hank Williams and fantasized about the American West. He
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took a job as a ship engineer to get out of Sweden and soon built a
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reputation as a man who could fix anything, no matter how big. He has
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been with Titan since its beginning; as a result, he's had the money to
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buy land in Durango, Colorado, stock his 864-square-foot garage with two
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Jeeps and a classic Mercedes-Benz 560SL, and play cowboy whenever he
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wants. Now he boards the small plane wearing his trademark black leather
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cowboy boots and says hello to everyone in his pronounced Swedish
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accent.
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**The team — Habib, Johnson, Trepte, and Bergman** — arrives in Dutch
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Harbor and heads out to sea at top speed aboard the Makushin Bay, a
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130-foot ship readied for salvage work. It's stacked with generators,
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steel-cutting equipment, machining tools, and salvage pumps that can
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remove water from the ship or transfer it from one hold to another.
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Johnson's laptop is loaded with GHS, and he begins building a rough
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model of the ship based on photographs and diagrams emailed from the
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owners.
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![](https://www.wired.com/wp-content/uploads/archive/images/article/magazine/1603/ff_seacowboys_p5.jpg)
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Photo: Courtesy of Titan SalvageAfter more than a day of full-speed
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motoring through the North Pacific, the Titan team spies the Cougar Ace.
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At first, it's only a sharp rise on the horizon. But as the Makushin Bay
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approaches, the scale of the ship dwarfs the salvage vessel. In the
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distance, a 378-foot Coast Guard cutter — complete with helicopter and
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76-mm cannon — looks puny compared with the car carrier. It's as if the
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men have gone through some kind of black hole and emerged as miniatures
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in a new and damaged world. The Cougar Ace lies on its side, its
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enormous red belly exposed to the smaller boats around it. The propeller
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floats eerily out of the water, the rudder flopped hard to port in the
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air.
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[Rich Habib's journal, July 29,
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Saturday](https://www.wired.com/science/discoveries/magazine/16-03/ff_seacowboys_journal#July29)
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The Titan advance team arrives at the Cougar Ace. "Holy fuck," Trepte
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mutters.
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Six hours later, an HH-65 Coast Guard helicopter flies the team to the
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ship and lowers the guys one by one onto the tilted deck in a steel
|
|
basket. Dan Magone, the owner of the Makushin Bay, comes with them. He's
|
|
a local salvage master himself and an expert on the region's currents,
|
|
tides, weather, and shoals. He has spent more than 27 years saving
|
|
fishing boats in the area and is along as an adviser to, in his words,
|
|
"the big shots."
|
|
|
|
The ship is rocking, but the sea is calm, and Habib thinks it's holding
|
|
steady at a list of about 60 degrees. Titan's first mission: hunt for
|
|
water on board. Johnson needs to know exactly how much water is sloshing
|
|
around the cargo holds so he can input the data into the digital model
|
|
he's constructing.
|
|
|
|
Habib unloads coils of rope from his backpack. Descending into the
|
|
sharply tilted ship will require mountaineering skills. Fortunately,
|
|
Habib knows what he's doing: He once scaled a 2,300-foot frozen
|
|
waterfall and recalls with fondness summiting a notoriously difficult
|
|
peak in the Canadian Rockies. On the way down, he was attacked by a
|
|
wolf. The faded scar makes him chuckle. Maybe the mountain adventures
|
|
put things in perspective. After all, this is just a giant sideways ship
|
|
floating loose in the Pacific, not a deranged wolf on his back.
|
|
|
|
The guys click their LED headlamps on. The generators have gone dead,
|
|
and it'll be pitch-dark below. The ship's thick steel sidewalls block
|
|
radio reception, so once the men are below they won't be able to
|
|
communicate with the outside world. All they'll have is each
|
|
other.
|
|
|
|
[![](https://www.wired.com/wp-content/uploads/archive/images/article/magazine/1603/ff_seacowboys_p5_2.jpg)](https://www.wired.com/science/discoveries/magazine/16-03/#)
|
|
Photo: US Coast Guard **Deep within the ship,** the men dangle on ropes
|
|
inside an angled staircase and peer through a doorway into the
|
|
number-nine cargo deck. Their lights partially illuminate hundreds of
|
|
cars tilted on their side, sloping down into the darkness. Each is
|
|
cinched to the deck by four white nylon straps. Periodically a large
|
|
swell rolls the ship, straining the straps. A chorus of creaks echoes
|
|
through the hold. Then, as the ship rolls back, the hold falls silent.
|
|
It's a cold, claustrophobic nightmare slicked with trickling engine oil
|
|
and transmission fluid. Trepte lowers a rope and eases into the
|
|
darkness.
|
|
|
|
Everyone is wearing a harness with two carabiners attached to short
|
|
straps. They've tied loops every few feet into some of their ropes,
|
|
creating a series of descending handholds. Like rock climbers rappelling
|
|
in slow motion, they back down the steep deck, lowering themselves one
|
|
looped handhold at a time. Habib tells them to always keep one carabiner
|
|
attached to a loop in the rope; that way, if they fall, the rope will
|
|
save them.
|
|
|
|
They reach the middle of the deck. There's a ramp built into the side of
|
|
the hull at this level — it's for driving cars on and off the ship. Now
|
|
a good deal of the ramp's exterior is about 25 feet underwater. It's got
|
|
a thick rubber seal, but it wasn't designed to take the pressure of
|
|
submersion. Habib thinks it might be leaking.
|
|
|
|
Sure enough, as they descend farther, Trepte sees green water with a
|
|
sheen of oil. The water is about 8 feet deep and runs the length of the
|
|
compartment — dozens of new Mazdas can be seen beneath the murky surface
|
|
like drowning victims. It means the seal has been compromised. It's
|
|
leaking slowly and could fail completely at any moment. If that
|
|
happened, seawater would fill the deck in a matter of minutes and drown
|
|
them all. But Habib figures that since it has lasted this long, it's
|
|
probably OK for now.
|
|
|
|
![Navigating the
|
|
Ship](https://www.wired.com/wp-content/uploads/archive/images/article/magazine/1603/ff_seacowboys_navigating.jpg)**Navigating
|
|
the Ship**
|
|
When the Titan Salvage crew first boarded the Cougar Ace, they needed to
|
|
determine the extent of flooding in the holds. To get there, the men had
|
|
to climb using ropes and harnesses. The mission, step-by-step:
|
|
|
|
**1.** Airlift to the ship on an HH-65 Coast Guard helicopter.
|
|
**2.** Use ropes to descend through a tilted stairwell.
|
|
**3.** Open the access hatch to the ninth deck and rappel past hundreds
|
|
of Mazdas.
|
|
**4.** Survey the flooding and retrace the route back to the surface of
|
|
the ship.
|
|
**5.** Shimmy along the top side to the rear of the ship, then climb a
|
|
ladder to the back-deck opening.
|
|
**6.** Use ropes to descend the back desk. From the low side, jump onto
|
|
a support boat.
|
|
|
|
Trepte measures the dimensions of the wedge of water in the hold using a
|
|
metal weight and string and shouts out the numbers. While Johnson does
|
|
some trigonometry on a small pad of paper, Habib accidentally steps on
|
|
one of the straps securing a car, and the Mazda lurches downward with a
|
|
screech. Trepte looks up with a start and realizes that he's at the
|
|
bottom of a suspended automotive avalanche. Dozens of cars hang over his
|
|
head. If one broke its straps, it would trigger a domino effect, sending
|
|
a pile of Mazdas down on top of him.
|
|
|
|
"Ay, mate, try not to kill me down here, won't ya?" Trepte shouts up to
|
|
Habib.
|
|
|
|
"Rog-o," echoes the response from the shadows.
|
|
|
|
Johnson finishes his calculations — the wedge of water weighs 1,026
|
|
tons, part of the weight keeping the ship pinned on its side. They will
|
|
have to pump this water overboard and then fill the high-side tanks to
|
|
add enough ballast to bring the ship back to an even keel. According to
|
|
Johnson's preliminary computer simulations, pumping 160.9 tons into the
|
|
starboard-side tanks will do the trick. But the model shows that any
|
|
more than that may roll them all the way over to the other side.
|
|
|
|
"You're talking about a flop?" Habib asks.
|
|
|
|
"That's what I'm saying," Johnson replies.
|
|
|
|
The situation is more precarious than Habib had thought. If they
|
|
overfill the high-side starboard tanks, the Cougar Ace will roll back to
|
|
normal — but then keep going, potentially in a matter of seconds.
|
|
Everybody on board would be catapulted from one side of the ship to the
|
|
other, and the car straps could snap. If the cars were to pile up on one
|
|
side, the added weight would create even more momentum, causing the ship
|
|
to roll upside down and sink.
|
|
|
|
To avoid that, they need to pump a precise amount of water. It's
|
|
Johnson's job to figure out exactly how much. In an ideal world, he
|
|
would plug in data for the position and weight of all the cars and the
|
|
amount of liquid in each of the ship's 33 tanks and 14 decks.
|
|
Unfortunately, there's not enough time to collect all that information.
|
|
He'll have to do some guessing and hope his instincts are good.
|
|
|
|
**It's getting dark** by the time they emerge from inside the ship —
|
|
they were down for more than three hours — and Habib decides not to ask
|
|
the Coast Guard to pull them off by helicopter. It would be risky in the
|
|
twilight. Given the calm sea, he figures they can make their way to the
|
|
back deck of the ship and jump from the low port side onto the Makushin
|
|
Bay.
|
|
|
|
But when they reach the back and take stock of the situation, it doesn't
|
|
seem that simple. If the deck were flat, they could just walk straight
|
|
across. But now it's a 105-foot metallic cliff dotted with keg-sized
|
|
steel bollards. If one of the guys were to slip when not clipped in to a
|
|
rope, no amount of clawing on the hard surface would arrest his slide.
|
|
He would rocket down the 60-degree incline with only the blunt steel of
|
|
the bollards to break his fall.
|
|
|
|
What's worse, the automated fire-prevention system vents onto the deck.
|
|
Since the generators have been down for days, the system's chilled
|
|
liquid carbon dioxide is warming and expanding. Every few minutes, the
|
|
oxygen-snuffing chemical explodes out of the vent in a raging,
|
|
negative-110-degree cloud. Direct exposure could cause frostbite and
|
|
even suffocation. Habib has tested the area with an oxygen monitor, and
|
|
despite the deafening white clouds of gas that periodically explode
|
|
across the deck he assures everyone that there's plenty of fresh,
|
|
breathable air.
|
|
|
|
Still, the situation makes Johnson nervous. He's standing on the side of
|
|
a giant winch 25 feet above the vent. He'll have to climb through the
|
|
blast area to get off the ship, and his backpack is stuffed with 30
|
|
pounds of gear. It's going to be difficult to move down the looped lines
|
|
with that extra, cumbersome weight.
|
|
|
|
Magone is anxious to get off the ship before nightfall makes it too
|
|
difficult to jump onto the Makushin Bay. He begins to back down the
|
|
deck, followed by Trepte and Bergman. The carbon dioxide explodes out of
|
|
the vent, raining down slivers of dry ice. They pause to shield their
|
|
faces and then keep descending.
|
|
|
|
Johnson's nervousness mounts, and he stays put. He tells Habib that his
|
|
backpack is bothering him. Habib offers to climb back up to the
|
|
helicopter drop zone — there's extra rope there, which he can use to
|
|
lower the backpack. While Johnson twists his way out of the pack, Habib
|
|
heads back up toward the drop zone.
|
|
|
|
When he reaches the lower end of the deck, Magone looks up and sees that
|
|
Johnson still hasn't started his descent. "What's taking him so long,"
|
|
Magone wonders. "Ready for the next guy\!" he shouts.
|
|
|
|
A moment passes, and suddenly Johnson is hurtling down. He blurs past
|
|
Bergman, screaming. Johnson is falling, and he isn't clipped in to
|
|
anything. His body ricochets off a steel stanchion, sending him into an
|
|
uncontrollable spin. He plunges upside down past Trepte. Nobody has time
|
|
to react — in little more than a second, he has fallen 80 feet and his
|
|
head smashes into a winch, with a sickening thud. His face smacks the
|
|
metal, ripping a deep laceration in his forehead. Water sloshes just
|
|
below him. Blood drips into it.
|
|
|
|
"Shit, shit, shit\!" Trepte shouts. He steadies himself for a moment,
|
|
then radios Habib: "Marty's had a tumble."
|
|
|
|
On the top deck, Habib is coiling rope. "A tumble?" he thinks. He keeps
|
|
coiling for a few seconds. A tumble's not a big deal — a tumble is like
|
|
a slip and a twisted ankle. But then he realizes that a tumble for
|
|
someone like Trepte could mean falling out of an airplane with no
|
|
parachute. Trepte wouldn't call him unless it's serious, unless Johnson
|
|
were truly injured or unconscious.
|
|
|
|
"Is he conscious?" Habib radios back, a note of rising fear in his
|
|
voice.
|
|
|
|
"No," Trepte's voice squawks through the radio.
|
|
|
|
Habib hurls the rope down and races back the length of the ship. He
|
|
climbs as fast as he can down the looped line through the carbon dioxide
|
|
blast zone. Magone has swung over to the winch in the center of the deck
|
|
and is struggling to stay in position over Johnson.
|
|
|
|
"Is he breathing?" Habib shouts.
|
|
|
|
Magone can't tell. Johnson is face down, and Magone is afraid to move
|
|
him by himself. Habib swings over on a rope, and together they roll
|
|
Johnson face up. His eyes are open, staring straight through Habib. No
|
|
blinking. No movement. There's blood everywhere and he doesn't seem to
|
|
be breathing, but he has a pulse. He's alive.
|
|
|
|
Habib's heart is racing. There's a chance. He starts mouth-to-mouth just
|
|
as a boat crashes into the Cougar Ace only feet from Habib and Magone.
|
|
It's the Emma Foss, a 101-foot tug whose crew, alerted by the radio
|
|
exchange, has come to help. But the collision rips off a piece of the
|
|
railing that's supporting Habib. He splashes into the cold water beneath
|
|
the winch. In an instant, he muscles himself back up beside Johnson.
|
|
|
|
"Let's get him off," Habib shouts. He's thinking, "He can make it. He's
|
|
got a pulse."
|
|
|
|
A stretcher is passed over from the Emma Foss. The men strap Johnson in
|
|
and transfer him to the tug, which takes him to a Coast Guard cutter;
|
|
its medical facilities can keep him alive. It's not too late.
|
|
|
|
"Come on, Marty," Habib says as they heft the litter back to the tug.
|
|
"We're gonna get you out of here. Just hang in a little longer."
|
|
|
|
Johnson is hauled aboard the cutter, and the corpsmen establish a radio
|
|
connection with their onshore surgeon. Coast Guard medics take over
|
|
while Habib and his team jump onto the Makushin Bay and wait nervously
|
|
for an hour. At 11 o'clock, the captain of the cutter calls Habib.
|
|
|
|
Marty Johnson is dead.
|
|
|
|
![How Marty Johnson
|
|
Fell](https://www.wired.com/wp-content/uploads/archive/images/article/magazine/1603/ff_seacowboy_marty2_f.jpg)**How
|
|
Marty Johnson Fell**
|
|
To get off the ship, Johnson and the others on the Titan team made their
|
|
way to the back deck, then climbed down the steeply angled surface to
|
|
the low side. For Johnson, it was a daunting task — he was inexperienced
|
|
as a climber and carrying a pack loaded with 30 pounds of bulky gear.
|
|
|
|
**1.** He was standing on the starboard winch. He wasn't clipped in to
|
|
his safety rope when he slipped and plummeted down the deck.
|
|
**2.** After 20 feet, he struck a bollard and began spinning.
|
|
**3.** He tumbled 60 feet more, coming to rest on the port-side winch.
|
|
|
|
![Marty
|
|
Johnson](https://www.wired.com/wp-content/uploads/archive/images/article/magazine/1603/ff_seacowboy_marty_f.jpg)
|
|
|
|
**Through an overcast sky**, the sun dawns faintly the next morning. The
|
|
Coast Guard sends a lieutenant to the Makushin Bay to find out what
|
|
happened and assess the state of the team. On the surface, Trepte and
|
|
Bergman seem fine. Trepte has already moved into Johnson's bunk — "he
|
|
won't be needin' it," Trepte says. But a numbness seems to have gripped
|
|
Habib. Maybe he should send his team home before any more lives are
|
|
lost. Maybe it's time to abandon the Cougar Ace.
|
|
|
|
The lieutenant listens as Habib recounts the facts leading up to the
|
|
accident: Johnson was standing on the high-side winch. Somehow he
|
|
slipped and hadn't been clipped in to a rope. When Habib starts to talk
|
|
about trying to save his teammate, about staring into his blank eyes, he
|
|
feels a swelling in his throat. He can sense tears coming. Johnson was
|
|
one of Habib's guys and was among the nation's best naval architects.
|
|
Habib looks away.
|
|
|
|
What he sees isn't comforting. The Cougar Ace looms over the Makushin
|
|
Bay like a rogue wave on pause. It can't be ignored — it's now 140 miles
|
|
from shore, and the weather is expected to deteriorate. Winds of 26
|
|
miles per hour are expected by the next sunrise, and the weather service
|
|
predicts 16-foot waves within a few days. The team has to get back on
|
|
board and connect a towline to the Cougar Ace, or it will either sink or
|
|
be driven ashore. The Coast Guard, the area fishermen, the ship owners,
|
|
Mazda — everyone is depending on them, but they're battered,
|
|
undermanned, and flying blind without Johnson. Habib makes a decision:
|
|
He'll stay. But to see this job through, he needs more help. He makes a
|
|
call to headquarters in Florida.
|
|
|
|
A Coast Guard ship takes Johnson's body back to Adak, a rugged Aleutian
|
|
island with an airstrip. Soon, a twin-propeller plane floats down out of
|
|
the sky and stops at the end of the runway. The plane's ramp flips open,
|
|
and guys lugging cold-weather gear hustle down to the tarmac. They
|
|
glance at the body bag and keep moving. The reinforcements have
|
|
arrived.
|
|
|
|
![](https://www.wired.com/wp-content/uploads/archive/images/article/magazine/1603/ff_seacowboys_phil_reed.jpg)Phil
|
|
Reed, Senior Naval Architect
|
|
Photo: Andrew Hetherington Phil Reed — Titan's chief naval architect —
|
|
got the go-ahead from his wife and leads the men. In the early '90s,
|
|
Reed was one of the first to repurpose naval-architecture software for
|
|
use on salvage jobs. Now 48, he's Titan's most senior 3-D modeler — a
|
|
sort of geek in residence. But Reed is not a typical nerd. Sure, on
|
|
almost every job he's the only guy scampering across the decks with a
|
|
laptop, and he absentmindedly taps the tip of his fluorescent
|
|
highlighter on his head, leaving yellow streaks across his Titan
|
|
baseball cap. But he's also the guy who went into Banda Aceh after the
|
|
2004 Indian Ocean tsunami and persuaded the Indonesian military to
|
|
protect the Titan team while it hauled away an upside-down 684-foot
|
|
cement ship. He can take the heat as well as any guy on the team.
|
|
|
|
Two deep-sea divers — Yuri Mayani and Billy Stender — follow Reed. They
|
|
look like a rough-and-tumble version of Laurel and Hardy. Mayani is a
|
|
foulmouthed, hot-tempered 5'2" Panamanian with rippling muscles. Stender
|
|
is a laconic 6'2" Michigan native who spends as much time as he can
|
|
living in a trailer in the woods near the Canadian border. Somehow,
|
|
these two have become good friends. If they're not on a job, Mayani
|
|
hangs out in Michigan, cursing wildly about the cold until Stender gets
|
|
enough Pabst Blue Ribbon in him. With Mayani around, Stender can sink
|
|
into his natural state of bemused reticence. Anything he's thinking —
|
|
whether it's about lining up the next drink or the knockers on that
|
|
blonde at the end of the bar — Mayani tends to say first and five times
|
|
louder. "We understand each others" is how Mayani puts it. Stender
|
|
refers to his friend as "the Panamaniac."
|
|
|
|
The Sycamore, the Coast Guard ship that brought Johnson's body ashore,
|
|
takes the new guys on board, and they push off for a rendezvous with the
|
|
Cougar Ace. Someone from Titan headquarters in Florida calls Habib to
|
|
say that Mayani, Stender, and Reed are under way. Habib hopes they'll
|
|
arrive before the weather hits. The seas are already getting rougher,
|
|
and that can only mean more
|
|
trouble.
|
|
|
|
![](https://www.wired.com/wp-content/uploads/archive/images/article/magazine/1603/ff_seacowboys_p10.jpg)
|
|
Photo: Courtesy of Titan Salvage**At 12:45 am, a fierce rain** and heavy
|
|
rolling ocean wakes Habib aboard the Makushin Bay. He asks the captain
|
|
of the Emma Foss to use its searchlight to survey the Cougar Ace's low
|
|
port-side cargo vents. Normally, these vents release car exhaust from
|
|
the deep holds as vehicles are driven on and off the vessel. When the
|
|
ship is upright, the vents sit about 70 feet above water and have flaps
|
|
to prevent rain from entering. They were never meant to be submerged,
|
|
but now the Emma Foss radios back that the high seas are churning to
|
|
within 3 feet of the vents. If they go under, seawater will likely push
|
|
open the flaps and surge into the ship's holds, sinking the Cougar Ace.
|
|
|
|
By noon, Habib fears he's about to lose the ship. The rapidly building
|
|
swell is breaking on the port side, driving waves up to the vents. At
|
|
the same time, the swell has increased the ship's roll, dipping the
|
|
vents toward the waves. Habib's only hope is to tow the ship into the
|
|
Bering Sea on the lee side of the Aleutians — something the Coast Guard
|
|
wants him to avoid because of the potential risk to the environment. The
|
|
Sea Victory — a 150-foot tug — has arrived and managed to lasso a cleat
|
|
on the back of the Cougar Ace. The tug's 7,200-horsepower engine has the
|
|
strength to pull the ship through the fast currents of the Samalga Pass
|
|
and get to the lee side of the islands. If Habib can do that, the land
|
|
will act as a shield against the wind and waves. He's got no choice.
|
|
It's time to run the gauntlet.
|
|
|
|
**Under low-hanging clouds,** the Cougar Ace and its convoy of tugs,
|
|
Coast Guard escort, and salvage craft crash through the swell in a mad
|
|
dash for the Bering Sea. The Sycamore, bearing Reed, Stender, and
|
|
Mayani, has gone full throttle to make this rendezvous, and the guys now
|
|
stand on the deck and watch the cursed armada bear down on them.
|
|
|
|
Mayani stares at the sideways ship with disbelief. The Cougar Ace looks
|
|
like a death trap to him — the crew must have been hit hard. "How many
|
|
motherfuckers it died in there?" he asks.
|
|
|
|
[Rich Habib's journal, August 3,
|
|
Thursday](https://www.wired.com/science/discoveries/magazine/16-03/ff_seacowboys_journal#Aug3)
|
|
Habib recounts discussions with Phil Reed regarding the possibility that
|
|
the Cougar Ace might flip during the righting operation."One," Stender
|
|
says. "Our guy."
|
|
|
|
"Trick-Fuck," Mayani spits. He has a lot of respect for Habib but refers
|
|
to him as "Trick-Fuck" because Habib is always tricking him into doing
|
|
crazy things. And, from where Mayani is standing, this is going to be
|
|
the biggest trick-fuck yet.
|
|
|
|
It's certainly one of the craziest things Reed has ever seen on the sea.
|
|
He boards the Makushin Bay, and Habib grimly hands him Johnson's
|
|
computer. Reed agrees with Johnson's assessment — the ship could easily
|
|
flop. To decrease that risk, the team needs to make sure that the
|
|
largest low-side ballast tank is filled, so it counterbalances any rapid
|
|
roll. The crew had reported that they left it half full. This will be
|
|
the team's first important task: a journey to the deepest part of the
|
|
ship to drill a hole in the tank and fill it all the way.
|
|
|
|
To get there, they will have to descend like spelunkers. So Habib orders
|
|
his men onto the Redeemer, a 132-foot tug that has joined the operation.
|
|
He greets them gruffly and takes hold of a rope hanging from a railing
|
|
on the Redeemer's upper deck and begins to climb using a device called
|
|
an ascender. They're at the mouth of the Samalga Pass — there's no time
|
|
for small talk.
|
|
|
|
Mayani looks at Stender out of the corner of his eye and asks him what's
|
|
wrong with Habib: "He a fucking monkey now?"
|
|
|
|
[Rich Habib's journal, August 6,
|
|
Sunday](https://www.wired.com/science/discoveries/magazine/16-03/ff_seacowboys_journal#Aug6)
|
|
Titan reinforcements arrive. "Shut up\!" Habib shouts. He explains that
|
|
the Cougar Ace has become a labyrinth. Since it's heeled onto one side,
|
|
they'll have to learn how to walk on walls and scale the sloping,
|
|
perilous decks. Unfortunately, they'll have to learn to do it in the
|
|
middle of the ocean. This will be their only chance to practice before
|
|
they board the ship. Hopefully, no one else will die.
|
|
|
|
While the team trains on the ropes, the tugs haul the Cougar Ace safely
|
|
through the pass and into the calm waters of the Bering Sea. The vents
|
|
ride higher above the surface — that's one less danger, for the time
|
|
being. Now they need to get back aboard. The Emma Foss deposits the
|
|
newly expanded team on the low side of the Cougar Ace's back deck, just
|
|
a few feet from where Johnson died.
|
|
|
|
Reed serves as the navigator through the intricacies of the vessel's
|
|
holds — he has spent the past 24 hours memorizing the Cougar Ace's
|
|
complex design. But it's one thing to picture the orderly lines of a
|
|
blueprint, quite another to traverse the dark confines of a capsized
|
|
ship. As a result, Reed is not always sure where they are, and the
|
|
darkness fills with a steady stream of Mayani's elaborate Spanish
|
|
curses. Nobody wants to get lost inside this thing.
|
|
|
|
It takes them almost three hours of rappelling and climbing to descend
|
|
to the 13th deck, and when they get there, no one is that excited to
|
|
have arrived. This far down, they are well below the waterline. The
|
|
Bering Sea presses in on the steel hull. They feel like they're inside
|
|
an abandoned submarine.
|
|
|
|
Reed and Habib crawl along the tilted deck, periodically consulting a
|
|
drawing of the ship's internal compartments. They rap their knuckles on
|
|
a piece of steel — this is the top of the low-side ballast tank. Trepte
|
|
pulls out a drill and bores down. Suddenly, water erupts. The tank is
|
|
already full and pressurized — water must be flowing in through a broken
|
|
vent on the underwater side of the ship. It sprays furiously. They have
|
|
unwittingly caused the worst thing possible: The deepest cargo hold is
|
|
flooding.
|
|
|
|
In an instant, Trepte covers the hole with the tip of a finger and
|
|
presses hard. The sound of gushing water abruptly stops, and the shouts
|
|
and curses of the moment before echo through the hold. Salt water drips
|
|
off Mazdas, and the panic the men all felt transforms into a contagious
|
|
laugh.
|
|
|
|
Trepte is keeping the ship afloat with one finger.
|
|
|
|
"Well, I guess the tank is already full," Reed chuckles.
|
|
|
|
"Very funny," Trepte says. "Now whyn't some of you smart chaps go figure
|
|
out how to fix this bloody mess."
|
|
|
|
While Habib races to the Makushin Bay to find a solution, Mayani plugs
|
|
the hole with his finger to give Trepte a break. They go back and forth
|
|
for an hour and a half before Habib returns with a tapered metal bolt to
|
|
jam into the hole. Their fingers took a beating, but now they know that
|
|
the tank is full. Reed enters the data into his computer model, runs the
|
|
numbers, and tells Habib how much water he needs to pump into the
|
|
high-side tanks. It's time to roll the ship.
|
|
|
|
**The plan is to position** large pumps throughout the ship and begin
|
|
moving liquid in a sort of orchestrated water ballet. Reed has already
|
|
choreographed the dance in his GHS model but still hasn't been able to
|
|
find a solution that guarantees the ship won't flip. When he runs the
|
|
simulation, GHS sometimes shows the ship righting itself, but sometimes
|
|
it just keeps rolling until it's belly-up. Then it sinks.
|
|
|
|
![Righting the
|
|
Ship](https://www.wired.com/wp-content/uploads/archive/images/article/magazine/1603/ff_seacowboys_righttheship.jpg)**Righting
|
|
the Ship**
|
|
The Titan Salvage crew built a digital model of the Cougar Ace so they
|
|
could develop the following plan for shifting water between ballast
|
|
tanks (teal) before attempting to right the ship.
|
|
|
|
**1.** Position self-contained, diesel-powered pumps on the flooded
|
|
ninth deck and suction it dry, dumping water overboard.
|
|
**2.** Check water level in the fifth port ballast tank (red) to ensure
|
|
adequate counterbalance. Begin filling starboard ballast tank
|
|
(yellow).
|
|
**3.** Fill the fifth starboard tank with 160.9 tons of seawater to
|
|
bring the ship fully upright.
|
|
|
|
Habib decides not to worry about that right now and tells Mayani and
|
|
Stender to position pumps near the water that has flooded into deck
|
|
nine. Though they are both highly trained deep-sea divers, they play
|
|
many roles on a salvage job. They can operate cranes, drive bulldozers,
|
|
and slice through metal with plasma torches; Stender can even fly a
|
|
helicopter. Right now, their role is to lug the 100-pound pumps into
|
|
place. Since there are no functioning winches on board, the two men haul
|
|
the pumps by hand, using, as Mayani likes to say, a combination of
|
|
"man-draulics and the man-crane."
|
|
|
|
Mayani is assigned to play pump monkey. Stender ties one rope around his
|
|
buddy, a second rope around a pump, and then, using a rock-climbing
|
|
belay device, lowers both down the face of deck nine. Mayani hugs the
|
|
pump so that it doesn't get banged up on the way down. What happens to
|
|
Mayani is another matter.
|
|
|
|
"I'm no fucking pinball, motherfucker\!" Mayani shouts as he slams
|
|
against walls and cars. Stender likes the pinball reference and starts
|
|
calling himself the pinball wizard.
|
|
|
|
The shouting brings Habib rappelling down. He shines his headlamp on
|
|
Mayani, who — still hugging the pump — is swinging back and forth in an
|
|
attempt to build up enough momentum to hop over a column of cars.
|
|
|
|
"What are you two doing?" he
|
|
asks.
|
|
|
|
![](https://www.wired.com/wp-content/uploads/archive/images/article/magazine/1603/ff_seacowboys_yuri_mayani.jpg)Yuri
|
|
Mayani, Salvage Diver
|
|
Photo: Andrew Hetherington "What the fuck it look like we're doing?"
|
|
Mayani shouts. "Stealing cars?"
|
|
|
|
"Listen, I don't want any damage," Habib says. "Not even a fingerprint."
|
|
|
|
Mayani swings away from the cars with the pump and then back, picking up
|
|
more speed than he expected. He smashes into the windshield of a CX-7
|
|
and clobbers the sideview mirror of another.
|
|
|
|
"You're coming with me, bitch\!" Mayani screams at the mirror and rips
|
|
it clean off.
|
|
|
|
Habib shakes his head.
|
|
|
|
"Sorry\!" Mayani shouts. "It was either me or the fucking mirror."
|
|
|
|
**Once the pumps** are set up, Stender and Mayani explore the ship.
|
|
Mayani is on the hunt for some binoculars — he likes to collect mementos
|
|
from jobs. He took a bright-yellow plastic radio beacon from the last
|
|
ship he helped save and displays it proudly next to the flat-screen TV
|
|
in his Florida condo. Sometimes the ship's crew objects, calling the
|
|
guys pirates.
|
|
|
|
"What the fuck you think we are?" Mayani likes to say. "We look like
|
|
yuppies?"
|
|
|
|
Luckily, the Cougar Ace is a ghost ship — there's no one to get in their
|
|
way. Stender and Mayani make their way to the bridge. There are no ropes
|
|
up here, so they're not clipped in to anything. They find a door on the
|
|
high side of the bridge, but when Mayani jostles it, it flies open,
|
|
throwing him off balance. Stender lunges for him, but Mayani falls
|
|
inside and slides down the steeply inclined bridge. As he accelerates,
|
|
he grasps for anything and manages to wrap an arm around the captain's
|
|
chair 40 feet down, arresting his fall. Amazingly, he sees a pair of
|
|
binoculars dangling from the
|
|
chair.
|
|
|
|
![](https://www.wired.com/wp-content/uploads/archive/images/article/magazine/1603/ff_seacowboys_billy_stender.jpg)Billy
|
|
Stender, Salvage Diver
|
|
Photo: Andrew Hetherington "Are you OK?" Stender shouts, on the verge of
|
|
panic.
|
|
|
|
"I found the motherfucking binoculars," Mayani responds, momentarily
|
|
forgetting that he's hanging off the chair as though it were a tree
|
|
sprouting off a cliff.
|
|
|
|
"Good job," Stender shouts back. "You did that real nice. Now how the
|
|
hell you plan to get out of there?"
|
|
|
|
Mayani doesn't have a good answer. Stender looks around and sees a fire
|
|
hose. He grabs the nozzle, lowers it down, and Mayani climbs up the
|
|
hose. He took the type of fall that killed Johnson, but Mayani doesn't
|
|
seem too bothered. Instead, he scrutinizes the binocs. One of the lenses
|
|
is cracked.
|
|
|
|
"Shit," he says and throws them back down into the
|
|
bridge.
|
|
|
|
![](https://www.wired.com/wp-content/uploads/archive/images/article/magazine/1603/ff_seacowboys_p14.jpg)
|
|
Photo: Courtesy of Titan Salvage**"OK everyone,"** Habib says into his
|
|
mic. Radios crackle across the Cougar Ace. Bergman, Trepte, Mayani, and
|
|
Stender are ready to drop down into the holds and fire up the pumps. An
|
|
additional four Titan guys have arrived to assist. "Let's get this ship
|
|
straightened up," Habib says.
|
|
|
|
The pumps roar to life. Reed's model doesn't indicate how fast the ship
|
|
will roll upright. If it's anything like the time the ship first rolled,
|
|
it will be fast. It could be a dangerous roller-coaster ride.
|
|
|
|
Since the radios aren't powerful enough to reach the lower holds, Habib
|
|
acts as both salvage master and radio relay, climbing halfway down into
|
|
the ship so that his radio is close enough to pick up the signal of the
|
|
guys up top and lower down. He follows Reed's plan and shouts orders:
|
|
"Pump the wedge of water on deck nine overboard. Begin filling the fifth
|
|
starboard ballast tank now." He's like the conductor of an unusual,
|
|
waterlogged symphony.
|
|
|
|
Reed's calculations show that the fifth starboard ballast tank has to be
|
|
about 20 percent full to bring the Cougar Ace all the way up, and as
|
|
water begins to pour into the tank the ship starts to come off its
|
|
60-degree list.
|
|
|
|
[Rich Habib's journal, August 11,
|
|
Friday](https://www.wired.com/science/discoveries/magazine/16-03/ff_seacowboys_journal#Aug11)
|
|
Habib is exhausted but continues to fight the battle to save the Cougar
|
|
Ace."We're rolling her," Habib radios calmly.
|
|
|
|
Everyone aboard waits anxiously for the ship to flip in an instant, but
|
|
the vessel rises slowly, like a stunned boxer after a heavy blow. Water
|
|
cascades down its sides. It makes no sudden movements — it's as if the
|
|
ship itself has been trying to figure out whether it can do this,
|
|
whether it can really return to the land of the living.
|
|
|
|
As the Titan team coaxes the Cougar Ace upright, Habib ties a water
|
|
bottle to one end of a rope and affixes the other end to a pipe, forming
|
|
an improvised plumb line. Using some basic trig, he calculates their
|
|
progress: 56.5 degrees ... 51 degrees ... 40 degrees. The Cougar Ace is
|
|
coming up. Every hour it looks more and more like a normal ship.
|
|
|
|
Stender and Mayani stay on board, sleeping on cars, smoking cigarettes,
|
|
and tending the pumps. For lunch, they toss one end of a line out a door
|
|
that's halfway down the starboard hull. It reaches the Makushin Bay 50
|
|
feet below, and the boat's crew ties some food on the line. But when
|
|
Stender and Mayani haul it up to discover a meal of boiled cabbage and
|
|
popcorn, they snap. "We don't eat cabbage, you fucking fucks\!" Mayani
|
|
screams, hurling the cabbage at the crew. The crew dodges the fusillade
|
|
of wet, steaming cabbage, and it splatters onto the decks and wheelhouse
|
|
of the Makushin Bay.
|
|
|
|
As cabbage explodes out of the Cougar Ace, Habib checks his pendulum
|
|
again and sees that it's still moving: 34 degrees, then 28 degrees and
|
|
counting.
|
|
|
|
[Rich Habib's journal, August 12,
|
|
Saturday](https://www.wired.com/science/discoveries/magazine/16-03/ff_seacowboys_journal#Aug12)
|
|
The Cougar Ace rises.By the end of the second day of pumping, the Cougar
|
|
Ace is upright. A few days later, the owners come aboard to reclaim the
|
|
ship. What initially seemed like a lost cause is now floating freely. It
|
|
did not sink. Ninety-nine percent of its cargo is intact. There was no
|
|
environmental disaster.
|
|
|
|
Soon, a payment of more than $10 million is wired to Titan's account.
|
|
|
|
**For more than a year,** the 4,703 Cougar Ace Mazdas sit in a huge
|
|
parking lot in Portland, Oregon. Then, in February 2008, the cars are
|
|
loaded one by one onto an 8-foot-wide conveyor belt. It lifts them 40
|
|
feet and drops them inside a Texas Shredder, a 50-foot-tall, hulking
|
|
blue-and-yellow machine that sits on a 2.5-acre concrete pad. Inside the
|
|
machine, 26 hammers — weighing 1,000 pounds each — smash each car into
|
|
fist-sized pieces in two seconds. The chunks are then spit out the back
|
|
side. Though most of the cars appeared to be unharmed, they had spent
|
|
two weeks at a 60-degree angle. Mazda can't be sure that something isn't
|
|
wrong with them. Will the air bags function properly? Will the engines
|
|
work flawlessly throughout the warranty period? Rather than risk
|
|
lawsuits down the line, Mazda has decided to scrap the entire shipment.
|
|
|
|
Habib and the guys don't really give a damn. In the 16 months since they
|
|
saved the Cougar Ace, the team has done laps around the globe. They
|
|
pulled a stranded oil derrick off the world's most remote island, 1,700
|
|
miles west of South Africa. Then they wrangled a 1,000-foot container
|
|
ship off a sandbar in Mexico and rescued a loaded propane tanker in the
|
|
middle of a Caribbean storm.
|
|
|
|
But none of the men will forget the Cougar Ace. When Mayani does shots
|
|
of Bacardi at clubs in Miami Beach, he sometimes thinks back to the
|
|
first time he saw the car carrier floating sideways on the sea. It gives
|
|
him a chill until the rum takes hold. For Stender, it's the same. Trepte
|
|
is the only one who doesn't seem affected.
|
|
|
|
"Listen, mate, all I do is crazy shit," he says, on a cell phone from
|
|
his bungalow on Trinidad. "You get used to it."
|
|
|
|
But Habib doesn't get used to it — Johnson's death still weighs on him.
|
|
When Titan asks him to attend a CPR refresher course, he arrives
|
|
solemnly in the hotel conference room near the Fort Lauderdale airport.
|
|
The instructor lays out a few plastic dolls on the carpeted floor and
|
|
asks Habib to demonstrate his technique. A couple of other Titan
|
|
employees in attendance joke that the emaciated mannequins resemble some
|
|
prostitutes they met on a recent job in Russia. Habib doesn't smile. He
|
|
doesn't join their laughter. He kneels down beside one of the pale
|
|
forms, breathes into its mouth, and tries to bring it back to life.
|
|
|
|
Contributing editor Joshua Davis
|
|
([www.joshuadavis.net](http://www.joshuadavis.net)) wrote about the
|
|
cyberattack on Estonia in issue
|
|
15.09.
|
|
|
|
Related[![](https://www.wired.com/wp-content/uploads/archive/images/article/magazine/1603/ff_seacowboy_ss_t.jpg)The
|
|
Titan Salvage
|
|
Crew](https://www.wired.com/science/discoveries/multimedia/2008/02/ff_seacowboys_ss)[![](https://www.wired.com/wp-content/uploads/archive/images/article/magazine/1603/ff_seacowboy_journal_t.jpg)Excerpts
|
|
from Captain Rich Habib's
|
|
Journal](https://www.wired.com/science/discoveries/magazine/16-03/ff_seacowboys_journal)
|