Guardian Angels
It was past noon, and Carlock had been in the water for more than three hours. Now his prayers were more immediate. “God, please send me your guardian angels. Whisper in the captain's ear and tell him where I'm at.”
The heavy fog was slowly burning off, going from a thick blanket to a quilt with patches of clearing. Carlock looked up and saw three birds flying in formation across the sky —— the first living things he had seen in hours. “Are those my angels？” he asked.
The birds, he reasoned, must be flying back and forth between land. He began to notice bits of kelp and wood. Were they coming from land？ Carlock turned in the direction of the birds and the kelp. Then, to fight panic, he began setting small goals： “Right here, in this five- or ten-second window, I'm okay.”
Sea Scout Zack Mayberry was enjoying the adventure of zigzagging across the busy shipping lanes. He had borrowed Captain Bockmiller's binoculars and joined the watch, looking out for hazards.
It was shortly after 12：30 p.m. The other Scouts were scattered about the ship —— doing cleanup duty in the galley, taking naps, learning to tie knots. The sun was finally peeking through.
At his post and peering through the binoculars, Zack called out sightings to Craig McNeill, the crew member manning the wheel, to help him keep a safe distance from other craft.
“Boat to starboard,” Zack called out. “Boat to port.” With the binoculars lowered for a moment, something off the ship's port side caught Zack's eye. What was that waving in the ocean？ A yellow balloon？ Trash？ He had seen both in the water earlier.
He then lifted the binoculars to his eyes —— and blinked. He looked again.
Was that a person？
He handed the binoculars over to McNeill, who gave a quick look and turned back toward Zack. Together, the two began to yell： “Man overboard！ Man overboard！”
From bunks below, the awakened teenagers hustled on deck. Following Zack's lead, they began to point to a spot in the ocean on the port side.
Bockmiller went in the direction the Scouts indicated. He scanned the waves with the binoculars. It's a dead man, he thought. We're going to have to bring a corpse on board. He looked again —— and the body moved.
Bockmiller grabbed the radio next to the ship's wheel and called out an Urgent Marine Broadcast： “We have a person in the water！”
Carlock saw a ship slowly coming into view. But it seemed to be a ship from a storybook or a dream, a majestic ship with tall masts and billowing sails. Am I seeing things？ Am I rational？
The ship was real. It was headed toward him. He started blowing his whistle, waving the yellow-green neon tube and flailing his arms. But he was so weak. His legs were like jelly.
Do they see me？ Please see me.
Bockmiller sent McNeill and a Scout out in a small outboard. They found the exhausted diver and dragged him aboard. Within minutes he was being helped onto the deck of the tall ship.
Unsteady on his legs, and with a stunned expression on his pale face, Carlock settled down on the galley deck. Suddenly there were hands helping him remove his diving gear and stripping off his wet suit. Somebody was wrapping him in blankets. Someone else was giving him a pair of sweatpants.
He was cold, tired and emotionally drained. But some combination of his rational discipline, chance and prayer had kept him alive.
Coast Guard officials pieced together what had happened： Steve Ladd, the owner of Ocean Adventures Dive Co., said in a written statement that Dan Carlock's “dive buddy,” who had met him only that morning, did not report him missing. A dive master had called roll and heard everyone answer. The Sundiver then proceeded to its second diving spot.
The Coast Guard charged Sundiver captain Ray Arntz with negligence. He settled by agreeing to a one-month suspension of the Coast Guard-issued license that allows him to transport passengers, and by performing 80 hours of community service. Dan Carlock is back on his feet, but the adventurous engineer has not as yet returned to scuba diving.
It was past noon, and Carlock had been in the water for more than three hours. Now his prayers were more immediate. “God, please send me your guardian angels. Whisper in the captain's ear and tell him where I'm at.”
The heavy fog was slowly burning off, going from a thick blanket to a quilt with patches of clearing. Carlock looked up and saw three birds flying in formation across the sky —— the first living things he had seen in hours. “Are those my angels？” he asked.
The birds, he reasoned, must be flying back and forth between land. He began to notice bits of kelp and wood. Were they coming from land？ Carlock turned in the direction of the birds and the kelp. Then, to fight panic, he began setting small goals： “Right here, in this five- or ten-second window, I'm okay.”
Sea Scout Zack Mayberry was enjoying the adventure of zigzagging across the busy shipping lanes. He had borrowed Captain Bockmiller's binoculars and joined the watch, looking out for hazards.
It was shortly after 12：30 p.m. The other Scouts were scattered about the ship —— doing cleanup duty in the galley, taking naps, learning to tie knots. The sun was finally peeking through.
At his post and peering through the binoculars, Zack called out sightings to Craig McNeill, the crew member manning the wheel, to help him keep a safe distance from other craft.
“Boat to starboard,” Zack called out. “Boat to port.” With the binoculars lowered for a moment, something off the ship's port side caught Zack's eye. What was that waving in the ocean？ A yellow balloon？ Trash？ He had seen both in the water earlier.
He then lifted the binoculars to his eyes —— and blinked. He looked again.
Was that a person？
He handed the binoculars over to McNeill, who gave a quick look and turned back toward Zack. Together, the two began to yell： “Man overboard！ Man overboard！”
From bunks below, the awakened teenagers hustled on deck. Following Zack's lead, they began to point to a spot in the ocean on the port side.
Bockmiller went in the direction the Scouts indicated. He scanned the waves with the binoculars. It's a dead man, he thought. We're going to have to bring a corpse on board. He looked again —— and the body moved.
Bockmiller grabbed the radio next to the ship's wheel and called out an Urgent Marine Broadcast： “We have a person in the water！”
Carlock saw a ship slowly coming into view. But it seemed to be a ship from a storybook or a dream, a majestic ship with tall masts and billowing sails. Am I seeing things？ Am I rational？
The ship was real. It was headed toward him. He started blowing his whistle, waving the yellow-green neon tube and flailing his arms. But he was so weak. His legs were like jelly.
Do they see me？ Please see me.
Bockmiller sent McNeill and a Scout out in a small outboard. They found the exhausted diver and dragged him aboard. Within minutes he was being helped onto the deck of the tall ship.
Unsteady on his legs, and with a stunned expression on his pale face, Carlock settled down on the galley deck. Suddenly there were hands helping him remove his diving gear and stripping off his wet suit. Somebody was wrapping him in blankets. Someone else was giving him a pair of sweatpants.
He was cold, tired and emotionally drained. But some combination of his rational discipline, chance and prayer had kept him alive.
Coast Guard officials pieced together what had happened： Steve Ladd, the owner of Ocean Adventures Dive Co., said in a written statement that Dan Carlock's “dive buddy,” who had met him only that morning, did not report him missing. A dive master had called roll and heard everyone answer. The Sundiver then proceeded to its second diving spot.
The Coast Guard charged Sundiver captain Ray Arntz with negligence. He settled by agreeing to a one-month suspension of the Coast Guard-issued license that allows him to transport passengers, and by performing 80 hours of community service. Dan Carlock is back on his feet, but the adventurous engineer has not as yet returned to scuba diving.