Skip to comments.Remember The 33 Sailors Lost Five Years Ago In The Worst Maritime Disaster In Decades
Posted on 10/01/2020 9:52:02 AM PDT by Kaslin
After three hours battling the brutal storm and winds recorded at 120 mph, the battered old ship began to finally break down. El Faro was in trouble.
During a visit to the home of my parents in Jacksonville, Fla., my father, a World War II veteran, asked to visit the cemetery where he will be buried. Its on the opposite side of the county-wide metropolitan area, so on the way, we decided to stop near the Jacksonville seaport on the St. Johns river.
After crossing the massive Danes Bridge one of the largest harp-designed cable-stayed bridges in the nation we found a road to a small park along the St. Johns River. Tugboats tooted by. Picnic tables offered a great view of the shipyard.
On one side of the small park was a line of 33 short steel posts bollards, which are anchor points for mooring lines for ships bolted to a cement pad and linked together with a chain.
Quaint personal mementos were placed at each bollard a toy fishing rod, a bottle of beer, a poem, flowers, a snowglobe with a miniature lighthouse, an angel statue, a flag, and a mariners cap. Each featured a photograph and a small bronze plaque. There will never be a day you are not loved and remembered. May you rest at sea. Forever 23. You are loved eternally.
The poignant memorial in this quiet cove under the concrete canopy of the Danes Bridge is dedicated to the 33 crew members of the El Faro cargo ship who perished during Hurricane Joaquin, five years ago, on October 1, 2015.
It was the largest maritime disaster in more than three decades. Sailing out of Jacksonville to San Juan Puerto Rico, a weekly run for the freighter, El Faro was torn apart by the violent 120 mph winds and towering 40-foot waves. It was found three miles deep near the Crooked Island in the Bahamas, about 450 miles from Miami. No bodies have ever been recovered.
At Dames Point Park, the El Faro Memorial was dedicated to the crew on the first anniversary of the tragedy, when a tall hand-cast copper replica of a lighthouse was unveiled with the names of the crew: Forever in our hearts (El Faro is Spanish for lighthouse). From Danes Point, you can see the shipyards where El Faro would have been docked before its tragic departure. A private service for families is held each Oct 1.
Those who attended in the past include the widow and twin daughters of ship engineer Keith Griffin the girls were born four months after the shipwreck. Determined to keep Griffins legacy alive, their mother gave each daughter Keith as a middle name.
Each family suffered grievously. Crew members included young married couples with children, young adults, spouses, grandfathers. They waited more than two years, until Dec. 2017, for the final report from the National Transportation Safety Board investigation of what happened on that fateful voyage.
While my family headed to the cemetery, holy ground for our nations soldiers, the families of the El Faro crew had nothing but memorial bollards on a small slice of land along the St. Johns River. It was the last land their loved ones had seen before heading out into open waters on that fateful voyage.
Five years ago on Tuesday, Sept. 29, El Faro left port in Jacksonville at 8 p.m. for its 1,200-mile weekly voyage, with a scheduled arrival in San Juan on Friday, Oct. 2.
The ship carried $2 million worth of cargo, including 294 cars, trucks, and trailers below deck, and 391 containers on its top deck. The journey was scheduled to be one of the last runs before a major retrofit.
El Faro was a 790-foot freighter built in 1975. At 40 years of age, she was an old ship. Between 2003 and 2005, she carried troops and cargo during the Iraq War. Then she was owned by TOTE Services.
About 90 percent of worldwide trade travels by sea. Puerto Rico gets most of its supplies by ship, bringing everything from milk to Mercedes Benzes to the island. Its a competitive shipping route and the delivery must be timely to be profitable: meeting the ship in port, trucks pick up goods to avoid spoiling and storage fees. If El Faro missed its run, store shelves sat empty, an economy suffered, and TOTE lost money.
At 53 and having sailed oil tankers to the notoriously rough Alaskan ports, El Faro Captain Michael Davidson was an experienced seaman. He knew altering a course adding miles and fuel costs could jeopardize his future with the company.
Two months earlier, Davidson took a 160-mile detour to avoid Tropical Storm Erika. He was overheard telling his chief mate on the El Faro that he was in line for the choppin block, which could be one reason he left port saying of Joaquin when it was a tropical storm, Were just gonna go out and shoot under it.
By 8:00 a.m. on Sept. 30, about 12 hours after El Faro had left port, Joaquin became a hurricane. A Category 4 hurricane hadnt tracked through the Bahamas since 1866, but Joaquin, rapidly intensifying, was defying the odds. The National Weather Service issued warnings about the danger, but Captain Davidson kept his ship headed southeast on a direct route to Puerto Rico across the open ocean while the hurricane headed southwest.
One reason Davidson failed to correct course is that he was relying on old weather forecasts. While the crew followed timely updates from the National Weather Service, Davidson relied on Bon Voyage, a dated subscription service purchased by TOTE that processed global weather data, producing a forecast in the form of colorful weather maps over which a ships course could be plotted.
By the time the data was processed, however, it could be six or more hours old well-past obsolete when dealing with a raging hurricane. Complicating matters was that Davidson did not always download the maps in a timely manner.
The tragedy of El Faro was a mystery for more than two years. It took 10 months to locate and retrieve the voyage data recorder from the broken wreckage 15,000 feet underwater. While the voyage data recorder helped investigators piece together the last 26 hours of the doomed voyage from recordings on the bridge, it took another 15 months before the NTSB released its findings.
NTSB issued 53 safety recommendations but laid the bulk of the blame on Davidson for relying on old weather data and for failing to consider alternative courses. Three shipmates were tracking the weather with National Weather Service readings and tried to warn him about the magnitude and trajectory of the storm.
As early as 11 a.m. on Sept. 30, Third Mate Jeremie Riehm remarked that the ship was on a collision course with the storm. Second mate Danielle Randolph, at 34 a seasoned mariner, suggested alternate southern routes through the Old Bahama Channel, but the captain was not having it. Raised in a military family whose motto was suck it up, Randolph watched Joaquin gain strength, with waves rising higher and winds roaring.
At 3:34 a.m. the captain came to the bridge, telling the crew the storm was something he experienced every day in Alaska. Randolph went to her room for a quick rest and to send a quick email to her mother. Dont know if youve been hearing, were in really bad seas and really bad wind. Theres a hurricane out here and we are heading straight into it, Category 3, last we checked. Love to everyone.
After three hours battling the brutal storm and seas with winds recorded at 120 mph, the battered old ship began to finally break down. Water poured into the hold, cargo slammed, and El Faro leaned into a 15-degree list. The extreme tilt caused the engines lubricating oil to flow away from the pump that was meant to circulate it. Then the engine quit.
Around 7:30 a.m. on Oct. 1, less than 30 hours after the ship had sailed from Jacksonville, the United States Coast Guard received a satellite notification that the vessel had lost propulsion. On the voyage data recorder, the voices were calm despite the horror. At 7:29 am, the captain gives the order to lower lifeboats and abandon ship, and about a minute later can be heard on the bridge calling out, Bow is down, bow is down.
Months earlier, Randolph had texted pictures of El Faros lifeboats to her mom. Is that your lifeboat? Its open, her mom replied. A coastal Mainer, Laurie Bobillot knew open lifeboats to be a thing of the past. Lets hope you never get into some rough seas, she wrote, because you know kid, youre screwed.
Yes, I know, Randolph replied. Mom, if I ever die at sea, thats where I want to be.
The plaque at her bollard reads: Danielle Randolph. At sea is where I always want to be.
Crew members of El Faro:
They blamed the captain, but I read he was getting old weather data from the ships systems: that’s the owner’s responsibility, plus the pressure to cut safety to save time. To me that means the executives should have been up on involuntary manslaughter charges.
In the second paragraph it should be “Dames Point Bridge.”
Thank you for this post.
On October 1, 1971, the USS NEWPORT NEWS CA 148 was off the coast of North VietNam when a shell exploded and killed 20 US American sailors. May they Rest In Peace.
RIP to the lives lost..prayers for their families....my sister and bil own a house on San Salvador Island Bahamas, bil went down to check on property after the storm and locals had found a lot of debris presumably from the El Faro which went down SE of SS island...among the debris were a large number of packets of Frontline the flea/tick topical for pets...sad...
Somehow I didnt hear about this when it happened. That bridge is the Dames Point bridge - not the Danes bridge. I was born and raised in Jax.
Thanks for the post.
... On behalf of my son. He just started commercial mariner work.
Search “El Faro wreck” on YouTube.
There are at least 20 videos concerning the.ship’s loss and of the wreckage on the ocean bottom. Superstructure damage from the storm and sinking was extensive.
There is also an extensive article in Wikipedia:
Isn’t this the one where excessively rusty hatch covers failed?
“The ship carried $2 million worth of cargo, including 294 cars, trucks, and trailers below deck, and 391 containers on its top deck.”
That cargo value must be a mistake. Maybe it should be two Billion. Two million is absurdly low.
I moved to a new job in Baltimore in 2009. Driving near the harbor, I saw a very unusual blue ship with a white superstructure. It was the El Faro. I berthed in Baltimore very frequently and was a very odd looking ship.
To me, it didn’t really look like it was designed for ocean travel.
I don’t remember this. Thanks for posting it.
Prayers up for the family and friends who mourn their tragic loss.
Disclaimer: Opinions posted on Free Republic are those of the individual posters and do not necessarily represent the opinion of Free Republic or its management. All materials posted herein are protected by copyright law and the exemption for fair use of copyrighted works.