You’ve just boarded your cruise ship. While you are eagerly waiting for your luggage to arrive so you can tend to the festivities, you suddenly hear an announcement by the captain alerting you to a mandatory meeting.
Veteran cruisers know this is coming. First timers are a bit surprised that, before you even relax in that lounge chair with a colorful drink that sports a miniature umbrella, there is always a safety drill that requires that you return to your room to get your life jacket. You then go to your designated section (assigned according to cabin number) where you stand with your fellow cruisers while a crewmember reviews important emergency information.
Not exactly the most exciting start to a vacation, but this routine is required Maritime law. During every voyage, a lifeboat drill must take place. These drills usually take place within a couple hours of leaving your port.
Many of us pay about as much attention to this as we do to the flight attendants on the airplanes when they show us how to put on our air masks. On a ship, though we are inconvenienced, we try on our orange life vests while robotically going through the motions as directed by crewmembers. They point out the direction signs to the lifeboats that are posted in passageways and stairways throughout the ship. We don’t really listen but go through the motions while we talk with fellow passengers about what we are going to do that evening,
Although we know the story of the Titanic and watch news reports of cruise ship rescues, most of us never take this part seriously until we really have to.
Several months ago, while on board a 14-day Norwegian cruise ship, which was completing a three-day stretch through the Straits of Magellan and heading towards Chacabucco, Chile, all of the passengers felt the ship make a sharp change in its direction. Not long after, the captain announced that the ship had turned around. He had had picked up a distress call on the radio. There was a smaller research ship, about four hours from where we were, that had experienced engine failure and was taking on water. Due to international maritime law, the closest ship must respond to the call. And we were that ship.
Rumors, either overheard or made up, spread throughout the boat. Crewmembers whizzed by with an air of importance and purpose not usually seen in such personnel as the square dancing instructor or the bingo caller. We even glimpsed them converting part of the library into a sleeping space with foldable twin-sized beds set up in rows.
Our boat came to an apparent halt at about 1 AM. The passengers filled the deck with cameras in hand and peered out into the abyss. We were nearly at the bottom of the world, in the middle of the ocean, late at night. It was cold, and it was dark. Passengers tried to take pictures, but it was impossible. All we could see was a flashing light in the distance that we assumed to be the research vessel. We waited for hours, just watching the flickering light and imagining what it must feel like to be stranded way out there.
In the end, a military ship was able to respond faster, and we waited around only as a backup. It was a long night, but the military ship rescued all of the passengers and delivered them to safety.
Though we continue to practice putting on our lifejackets, we still have no idea how many actual emergencies do occur. Next time you are on a ship, actually listen closely to all safety instructions. Have a great time, but never lose respect for the fact that things do happen, and if there is any portion of the emergency procedures that you do not understand, ask the crew. Think about what you would do in a real emergency.
by Lani Advokat
http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2008/12/05/update-chilean-ship-rescu_n_148737.html
