Voices From The Deep

A strange voice comes over the radio..

 

“Hey buddy, do you mind taking the helm while I run down to do some minor maintenance?” Alex looked up from his book.

“Sure, dad, no problem.”

“Thanks, bud,” his father squeezed his shoulder before he disappeared below deck.

Alex and his dad were spending the summer sailing through the Great Lakes before Alex left for Columbia University in the fall. They planned to sail all the way to the St Lawrence seaway out to the Atlantic, then down the eastern seaboard until they reached Manhattan to drop Alex off for college.

They had set off from Chicago on June 1^st. They sailed up the Wisconsin side of Lake Michigan, making various stops to see the state parks, and other attractions along the way. This morning, they made it through Soo Locks into Lake Superior.

Alex scanned the horizon. There were lots of different kinds of boats around the locks: sail boats, yachts, freighters, tugboats, and various other smaller and larger crafts. He meandered his way through the aquatic traffic. Once they passed the lock area, a lot of the crafts dropped off.  He checked the navigation chart and saw his dad had plotted the course to run along the Michigan shore to start out on this leg of the journey. He turned the helm to Port to follow the coast.

He followed the course along the inlet near Dollar Settlement and followed the coastline north around Whitefish Point. He had just turned portside once more when the radio crackled. Whoever was on the radio was breaking up. Alex grabbed the handset.

“This is The Prosperity, I didn’t catch that last transmission, over.” Again, the voice came over, this time it was a little less garbled and Alex was able to make out a few words. Taking, water, lost cover, list.

“Repeat, you’re still breaking up, over.” The voice came over the radio once more, almost completely clear now.

“We’re taking on water, we’ve lost two vent covers and developed a list, over.”

“What is your location, over.”

“Radar has failed. I have a bad list and am taking heavy seas over the deck in one of the worst seas I’ve ever been in, over.”

Alex lifted an eyebrow as he surveyed the sky and water before him, it was June 25^th and it was nearly 80 degrees and not a cloud in the sky. The waters were glittering and calm.

“Repeat that last transmission, where is your location, over.”

“Just off Whitefish Point, over.” Alex scanned the horizon; he was just rounding Whitefish Point. He could see the light house on shore from where he was sailing, nor could he see any vessel that appeared to be in distress.

“It’s sunny and the waters are calm. Are you okay, over,” he asked in a concerned tone.

“We are holding our own, over.”

“Good, good. What is the name of your vessel? Do you need me to contact the Coast Guard for assistance, over.”

“The Edmund Fitzgerald, over.” And with that the crackling voice ceased and the channel was quiet again. Alex’s mouth gaped as he stared at the handset.

 

 

Author's Note

In case you don't know about the mighty Fitz, it was a freighter that sank in 1975 on Lake Superior in 530 feet of water after being bit by a rogue wave. All 29 crew went down with the ship. The sinking was so abrupt they didn't even have time to send a distress signal. There is a memorial in Whitefish Point, MI. There is also the Great Lakes Shipwreck Museum with items recovered from the Fitzgerald and other Great Lakes shipwrecks. I am fascinated and also simultaneous terrified of shipwrecks or any kind of vehicle or machinery sunk under water.