Part 1: I recently watched the movie “Deep Water Horizon” for the first time. Seeing that movie of a rig blow out brought back a flood of memories long forgotten. I started writing them down. Tonight, with Hurricane Laura coming ashore, I thought I’d post them.
After seeing the movie I searched the net looking for some reference to the events I experienced. I found that 16 hours earlier another oil rig blew out which resulted in several deaths and was in the news. It seems the events that began at 00:05 hours on 31Aug80 were never reported to the public. No one died, no oil was spilled, except for a few men who were crippled for life… no fuss, no muss!
One thing the film got right… Even though a rig was beginning to blow that night most did not yet realize the entirety of what they were experiencing… neither did we, who were trying to save them…
These are my memories of those events 40 years ago…
In the early morning hours of August 31, 1980, a jack-up drilling rig off the Texas coast blew out… The rig hit a large gas pocket about 2000ft down.
I was working on the Amy Chouest, a small supply vessel leased to the oil rig, 130ft long, 30ft wide. It was my first trip out to sea. We were hanging off a buoy a couple hundred yards from the drilling rig. We were close enough to land for tv reception. I remember Saturday Night Live had just ended. My job as a rookie deckhand was to sit in the wheel house and answer any radio calls for the rest of the night. The only other crew members, the captain and mate, were off to bed.
5 minutes after midnight the company radio began blaring! “Amy Chouest!” “Amy Chouest!” “Emergency, Emergency” “We have pressure problems on the well”… “Amy Chouest!” “Amy Chouest!” “Emergency, Emergency”…
We were at the rig in less than 5 minutes. Nothing seemed amiss… Then there began a rumbling sound way down in the ocean that vibrated up through the legs of the drilling rig. The sea suddenly got choppy, a funny kind of choppy.
Next, it began to rain mud, drilling mud. Thousands of gallons of mud were being blown out of the well. In those days they used a caustic soda liquid as mud, basically lye.
The captain maneuvered the ship from the controls overlooking the rear deck and backed us close to the rig. Alarms began blaring… soon, men began jumping. Some were swimming towards the ship, some weren’t able to.
The mate and I took turns spraying ourselves with a hose, washing the burning mud from our eyes. One was washing down while the other was in the water pulling injured men to the ship. Neither he or I were wearing life jackets, we were excellent swimmers, besides, there were only a few life jackets on board. Each time I went in the water I’d take a few with me for the injured.
The sounds that night were unholy, I remember them the most. The scariest sounds weren’t at the rig but out in the darkness. Large objects began falling from the sky, some were the size of cars. I couldn’t see them clearly, just glimpses against the stars… mostly I heard them splashing into the ocean.
40 men made it into the escape pods that night... But there were twice that many on the rig. The mate and I went in the water again and again pulling men to the ship. There were so many I really don’t remember them individually except for a couple.
One guy I’ll never forget. He worked in the galley, had on white clothes and an apron. He ran to the edge of the rig’s main deck about 60ft up. An escape pod had been there but was 40ft down, still being lowered. He looked at the water, then at the pod… I could see in his eyes what he was going to do. I was screaming “NO!” as loud as I could, of course he couldn’t hear me. He jumped for the top of the pod, not the water. He broke both his legs when he hit the top and then fell into the water. He almost drowned me when I tried to save him. He was just full of bad choices. I’m sure he was thinking the same thing…
I remember another badly injured man who was trapped on the heliport, about 85ft above the ocean. I saw him fall/roll off the rig. I don’t know how badly he was hurt before he hit the water but I’m pretty sure that broke his back. He was barely conscious. I remember trying to get a life jacket on him… he was like a greased pig from the mud. The current had pushed us over 100 yards from the ship when I started pulling him back. That was the only time that night I remember being tired. I was literally shaking with exhaustion when I got him to the ship. I had to lay on the deck a couple of minutes to catch my breath.
Soon it stopped raining mud and the screeching sound started. 2000ft of drill pipe was being forced back up out of the well. The next morning the pipe looked like big loops of spaghetti hanging out of the derrick.
By now the mate and I were both working in the water. A few of the guys with minor injuries were pulling their coworkers onto the ship. They rendered first aid as we brought them back and tossed us life jackets. A couple more ships arrived and were taking aboard the guys from the escape pods and picking up stragglers who had drifted away. Our part at the rig was over in less than an hour, but everyone still had to transported to Sabine Pass, TX.
After seeing the movie I searched the net looking for some reference to the events I experienced. I found that 16 hours earlier another oil rig blew out which resulted in several deaths and was in the news. It seems the events that began at 00:05 hours on 31Aug80 were never reported to the public. No one died, no oil was spilled, except for a few men who were crippled for life… no fuss, no muss!
One thing the film got right… Even though a rig was beginning to blow that night most did not yet realize the entirety of what they were experiencing… neither did we, who were trying to save them…
These are my memories of those events 40 years ago…
In the early morning hours of August 31, 1980, a jack-up drilling rig off the Texas coast blew out… The rig hit a large gas pocket about 2000ft down.
I was working on the Amy Chouest, a small supply vessel leased to the oil rig, 130ft long, 30ft wide. It was my first trip out to sea. We were hanging off a buoy a couple hundred yards from the drilling rig. We were close enough to land for tv reception. I remember Saturday Night Live had just ended. My job as a rookie deckhand was to sit in the wheel house and answer any radio calls for the rest of the night. The only other crew members, the captain and mate, were off to bed.
5 minutes after midnight the company radio began blaring! “Amy Chouest!” “Amy Chouest!” “Emergency, Emergency” “We have pressure problems on the well”… “Amy Chouest!” “Amy Chouest!” “Emergency, Emergency”…
We were at the rig in less than 5 minutes. Nothing seemed amiss… Then there began a rumbling sound way down in the ocean that vibrated up through the legs of the drilling rig. The sea suddenly got choppy, a funny kind of choppy.
Next, it began to rain mud, drilling mud. Thousands of gallons of mud were being blown out of the well. In those days they used a caustic soda liquid as mud, basically lye.
The captain maneuvered the ship from the controls overlooking the rear deck and backed us close to the rig. Alarms began blaring… soon, men began jumping. Some were swimming towards the ship, some weren’t able to.
The mate and I took turns spraying ourselves with a hose, washing the burning mud from our eyes. One was washing down while the other was in the water pulling injured men to the ship. Neither he or I were wearing life jackets, we were excellent swimmers, besides, there were only a few life jackets on board. Each time I went in the water I’d take a few with me for the injured.
The sounds that night were unholy, I remember them the most. The scariest sounds weren’t at the rig but out in the darkness. Large objects began falling from the sky, some were the size of cars. I couldn’t see them clearly, just glimpses against the stars… mostly I heard them splashing into the ocean.
40 men made it into the escape pods that night... But there were twice that many on the rig. The mate and I went in the water again and again pulling men to the ship. There were so many I really don’t remember them individually except for a couple.
One guy I’ll never forget. He worked in the galley, had on white clothes and an apron. He ran to the edge of the rig’s main deck about 60ft up. An escape pod had been there but was 40ft down, still being lowered. He looked at the water, then at the pod… I could see in his eyes what he was going to do. I was screaming “NO!” as loud as I could, of course he couldn’t hear me. He jumped for the top of the pod, not the water. He broke both his legs when he hit the top and then fell into the water. He almost drowned me when I tried to save him. He was just full of bad choices. I’m sure he was thinking the same thing…
I remember another badly injured man who was trapped on the heliport, about 85ft above the ocean. I saw him fall/roll off the rig. I don’t know how badly he was hurt before he hit the water but I’m pretty sure that broke his back. He was barely conscious. I remember trying to get a life jacket on him… he was like a greased pig from the mud. The current had pushed us over 100 yards from the ship when I started pulling him back. That was the only time that night I remember being tired. I was literally shaking with exhaustion when I got him to the ship. I had to lay on the deck a couple of minutes to catch my breath.
Soon it stopped raining mud and the screeching sound started. 2000ft of drill pipe was being forced back up out of the well. The next morning the pipe looked like big loops of spaghetti hanging out of the derrick.
By now the mate and I were both working in the water. A few of the guys with minor injuries were pulling their coworkers onto the ship. They rendered first aid as we brought them back and tossed us life jackets. A couple more ships arrived and were taking aboard the guys from the escape pods and picking up stragglers who had drifted away. Our part at the rig was over in less than an hour, but everyone still had to transported to Sabine Pass, TX.
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