Rescued

++++++

It was as if Doria was angered by the puny tug's effort to steal its prize away from it. The eye of the storm took a hard left and began to follow Narragansett and Vagabond back towards shore. The storm lashed out in fury as the two small vessels continued on their way rather than succumbing to the wind, rain, and raging seas.

+++++++

The hours were stretch out and it seemed an eternity before the Narra was able to pull the Vagabond out of the clutches of Hurricane Doria and into the safety of Charleston Harbor.

The rain closed visibility down to feet and the dock crew were huddled within their day room when the Watch called out that a ship was approaching. The Foreman did not even need to look at his papers to know that no ship was scheduled to be docking; especially when Doria was beating the hell out of the Port. The entire crew rushed out onto the storm to witness the arrival of MV Vagabond as she calmly and serenely approached the quay. She seemed to be moved about by an invisible hand as she majestically came to a stop against the bumpers. The crew stood dumfounded as hundreds of cheering children and adults manned the ship's rails in jubilant greeting.

+++++++

Warren Kelly shook his head and derided himself for his wool gathering, especially when he should be paying attention to the task at hand. Bringing a vessel up to a pier is not an evolution that just happens. And docking a ship with this shit storm throwing pounding rain, shifting winds, and surging tides did not make it any easier. But his crew was well-trained and knew their jobs. He sighed and for the thousandth time wished that Mary would be there to greet him. He knew he was foolish. She had left him and that was that.

He was squinting through the rain running down the windscreen, trying to gauge his position to the pier when he thought he saw a figure standing in the foggy gloom. He ordered the starboard bridge watch to put a light on the figure. A moment later, the brilliant light illuminated the lone figure standing in the pouring rain. It was a woman, wearing a trench coat, holding an umbrella. She was having to fight the wind which was trying to snatch the umbrella from her grip. The sudden flash of light startled her and she lost her grip. The umbrella disappeared into the night. Pulling her wet hair back from her face, she looked up, directly into the light. She began waving her free hand as a smile broke out across her face that rivaled the brilliance of the spotlight. It was Mary! Kelly was frozen in place. She had come back. She was waiting for him like so many times before. She. Was. Here.

Turning to the XO, he said, "You've got the CON, Frank. Bring her home and snug her up."

Frank who had also seen the figure waiting on the pier grinned back at his boss. "Will do, Sir!" he said, "and thanks again for the call up. It was great to get to do the mission again."

The old man said, "Frank, you and the boys were the best crew I ever had. I just wish things had happened differently back then."

"No sweat, Sir," Frank laughingly said, "Things are all working out in the end. Now get down there and give your bride a kiss for me."

+++++++

Warren swept down the ladders from the Bridge to the weather deck in record time. His frustration with the speed of the docking evolution was humorous to the deck crew and line handlers.

Mary was hopping up and down on the pier; not an easy thing to do when wearing high heels.

Finally, the Narra was tied up and the gangway dropped. Warren's impatience was palpable to the deck crew and he ran down the way at breakneck speed once it was in place. He went running full speed towards his bride. She, in turn, was running towards him and finally threw herself into Warren's arms and kissed him with the passion of two souls coming back together after being too long apart. After what seemed like forever, the two lovers stood back from each other and simply stared into each other's eyes.

"You came back," Warren said.

"Yes," she said, "I am sorry I left so suddenly. But I am here and we are together again. We will always be together now."

Escaping the cat calls coming down from the now idle crew, Warren and Mary walked off into the night, hand in hand.

++++++

"Robert, your Father has locked himself in his room AGAIN! He has not been out since Monday evening. You have got to do something about him!"

With a sigh and a slump to his shoulders, Robert trudged down the hallway to his father's room. Tapping lightly on the door he said, "Dad." When there was no reply, he tried again only harder. "DAD," he said.

Robert was now more than a bit worried and tried the knob only to find that it was indeed locked. Retrieving a screwdriver for the kitchen junk drawer, he raced back to the bedroom door, followed closely by his wife. Popping the safety button with the screwdriver, both husband and wife entered the room only to discover that the window was open, the bed was made and the old man, his father, was lying on floor. While his wife ran back to the kitchen to call the police, Robert checked on his father but knew in his heart what he would find; there was no pulse and the body was cold.

After the police and the coroner's people had collected the old man's body and finally left their home, the wife began to gather the old, worn clothes that were scattered around the floor. She wondered why they were wet... "How could they be so wet?" she thought, "It hasn't rained anywhere around Greenville in weeks."

+++++++

It took a few days for Gus Freeman to finish all the paperwork covering the last voyage of the Vagabond. The investigators gave Gus and the rest of the ship's crew the stink eye when they told what had happened out at sea but their story never varied and the fact was that the Vagabond had been docked safely and with all persons were accounted for.

After four days of interrogation, Gus was finally released and was determined to find the Narra and personally thank each and every crew member. So it was a very determined Gus Freeman who drove onto Naval Base Charleston on that clear Monday morning on a mission that was not to be stopped.

Explaining to the Gate Guard why he was there, the Marine directed him to the Port Captain's office. There, he was bounced around from desk to desk until he ended up in front of a grizzled old wreck of a civilian who was most likely only a bit younger than the office furniture occupying the work space.

Gus again explained that he was looking for the Narragansett and why. The more he told his story, the more the civilian acquired a skeptical grimace. When his story was finally told, Gus stood there waiting for the old man to reply. After several minutes of silence, the old man said, "The Narragansett, you say? Shit, boy, the Narra ain't here. She's tied up over on Pier 46."

The Federal employee was shaking his head in disbelief as the civilian merchant officer left his aging but orderly workspace...

"Imagine, all that prattle about the Narra being out to sea, much less making a rescue op. Just plain nonsense."

+++++++

First Officer Freeman spent the greater part of the afternoon driving around the anthill that was Charleston Harbor. He finally found Pier 46 but was deeply troubled at its condition. Why would a Navy ship be docked in this part of the harbor? There was nothing around but a breaker's yard and piles and piles of scrap. After many false starts, Gus worked his way back around to the waterfront and actually stood on Pier 46.

Gus stood there for a long time, staring at the forlorn hulk in front of him. Her paint was mostly peeled off and what remained was blistered with rust. He could barely make out the "88" on her bow. She was dead. His mind was lost with trying to reconcile what he was seeing with what he saw the night of the rescue; this could not be the same vessel, but there she was.

After more than an hour, he was no closer to figuring it out than he had been when he first found her. Having no better plan in mind he did what any good officer would do; he drew himself up to attention and rendered Narra a hand salute.

He turned and began the long walk back down the abandoned pier when he felt a puff of wind against his cheek. Actually, he first thought someone had kissed him on the cheek but no one was there. Shaking his head, he continued down the pier when a female voice said, "Thank you for bringing him home to me." Turning quickly, he confirmed to himself he was alone before walking off into the gathering night.

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AT (ATF)-88, USS Narragansett, was a Navajo-class Fleet Tug. Built in 1942, she won three Battle Stars during WWII for action under enemy fire.

The Fleet remembers.