A Man-Overboard Drill

It’s Tuesday, May 21^st, 2013. The Pride of Baltimore II departs this morning for the Great Lakes.

Last night was difficult. My arms, shoulders and legs ached from keeping up with the rest of the crew, pulling of the heavy lines during the docking procedures. Heading for my bunk I wanted to knock myself out with a sleeping pill but was hesitant. I knew we were leaving Baltimore early, with the full crew muster scheduled for 6AM. I was afraid 5mg of Ambien would leave me too woozy in the morning so I took half and turned in.

This morning I’m woozy anyway. The Ambien wasn’t strong enough to quiet the noise in my muscles and has left me with a spaced-out feeling. But it’s “All hands on deck” anyway for our departure. There is more tugging on the dock lines to pull the POB2 away from her dock. We begin our journey with a long period of motoring up through the Chesapeake into the C & D canal so there won’t be any raising of sails until we get to open water in the Delaware Bay.

But we’re no more than a few minutes into the trip when Captain Trost pitches a life ring over the side of the boat and calls for a man-overboard (MOB) drill. The crew knows its responsibility and leaps to it. The regular crew’s job is to retrieve the “victim”. No easy task, this requires hoisting the motorized dinghy over the side of the boat.

Yesterday at the guest crew orientation it was explained to us that our responsibility in a MOB situation is to keep the victim in sight and to point with our arm towards the victim in order to help the captain and helmsman to keep the overboard sailor in sight. But I’m still partly asleep and in a befuddled state. Instead of doing my assigned non-strenuous job of pointing I jump in to help with the hoisting of the rescue boat, perhaps getting in the way more than helping. I am possibly confused by the seriousness by which the regular crew members are going about their assigned tasks and look to assist the crew where help is most needed.

It is not long before the overboard life ring is rescued and the excitement of the drill begins to subside. Our watch ends at 8AM, soon after the drill. The POB2 will be motoring all day through the upper Chesapeake and the C & D Canal. There should be no call for “All hands on deck” or even for the Stand-by Watch to help on deck. I go below.

Lying in my bunk, thinking about the proceedings, I wonder if the captain or any of the mates have noticed my not doing my assigned job during the drill. Or whether the regular crew thought I was in their way while hoisting the rescue tender. Needless to say I am embarrassed, and have needlessly taxed already sore muscles. After a quick breakfast I climb into my berth after downing 100 mg of Tramadol, an opioid pain medication I’ve been taking. I should have no duties until our 4PM watch and soon I’m asleep.

--Bob Kerber