Wisconsin and her fleet were far from alone out there. After all someone's gotta be on hand to clean up the carnage!
Omake: Battle of the Gulf, An Eyewitness Account
The flashes over the horizon is what drew them in. Like children to a fireworks display. The three sisters simply couldn't resist the temptation to see a real battle with real guns! They sat on the bows of their respective hulls, seeing the action from a mere 14 miles away.
"Wow look at that one!" exclaimed Sharpie, the eldest of the trio as a massive flash from Wisconsin's main guns lit up the water.
"Hot damn, I love battleships!"
"You just miss your guns, Paulie."
"Oh hush you! I do not!! Well, maybe a little... But you've got no room to talk miss stripie, you miss your meats and cheese. And that's a far worse sin in my opinion for a vegan ship!"
"Will both of you knock it off!" Groaned out Farley. She was the youngest but by far the most responsible, at least when it came to goofing off! MY Farley Mowat II (she added the numeral on there herself) was the former USCGC Pea Island and preferred that people call her Farley 2 to distinguish herself from her much revered predecessor. Her hull wore the same design she had in the service only black had replaced the orange stripe on her bow.
"Black is the new orange!" Is what Paulie, the
John Paul DeJoria says!
Farley risked a look at her siblings and no surprise, the two were sailing close enough to throw things at each other. It started with insults and worked its way south from there. While closing ones eyes near a battlezone while skirting the edge of said zone was probably not the best idea, the sheer insanity of Farley's life demanded she do so. Her sisters rarely, if ever, meant any harm to one another. In fact she couldn't think of a time in which either was truly spiteful. But that didn't mean they couldn't be a little, rough, when they were wound up. And sitting on the edge of a firefight with the knowledge that you couldn't get in there and fuck someone's day up was enough to rile the pair of Island-class cutters. Farley herself was feeling a little ansy.
Almost subconsciously, she smoothed her hands across her sides, feeling the spots where her little Brownings used to be. The skin was smooth as the workers did a good job covering the spot where they used to sit. Even the place where her larger Bushmaster had been was almost unnoticeable, even to her. There were times where she missed her guns and seeing Wisconsin deliver some 16 inch hell was a good way to cause reminiscence. And a little envy! The Coast Guard was and always would be, the Navy's little sibling. Looked down on and forever receiving handmidown equipment. It didn't help that in wartime conditions the little force that could was relegated into the Navy's chain of command. Most of the brass didn't have time for dealing with another branch and so the Coast Guard was left to fend for itself!
Farley shivered as she thought of the enemy they were all facing. Abyssals had appeared suddenly, there was no forewarning. The first word anyone had gotten was when ships started disappearing. The attacks swiftly became widespread and navies worldwide were losing ships left and right. Despite having the advantage of being closer to land and therefore, not out on the front line, the Coast Guard lost over nearly 2 dozen ships! Several of them were her sisters! Farley mourned them but she still had a job to do and her sisters had died doing theirs, it would not pay to grieve. They wouldn't have wanted that. So she kept her head together and went about her duties as she always did.
Working with the Mexican government to stop a band of thieving gangster poachers from plundering their waters had been interesting to say the least. If someone had told her back when she was still in the service that she'd be out here doing a job that her fellow Coasties should've started doing years and years ago she would've laughed, scoffed and then said "such a job isn't necessary!" But she had sense found out it was far more than that, it was an obligation. Farley had been a ship that had 'stars in her eyes' so to speak. She was one of those individuals who believed the mighty US Coast Guard could do no wrong! Overlook no injustice. Milgaro had changed that view, had changed her irrevocably forever. Now, this was her fourth campaign, her fourth trip to the Gulf waters to stop the same band of poachers from wiping the vaquita, a critically endangered porpoise, off the face of the earth forever!
The one advantage that the Abyssals brought was they scared everyone away, legal and illegal fisherman alike. Governments had one hell of a time trying to keep their fisheries afloat and recruit men brave enough to dare the hostile waters. Mexico was no exception. With the poachers tucked away in port for the time being, Farley and her sisters had been relegated to rescue duty, tailing their Navy counterparts and cleaning up the mess the Abyssals made in their wake. It wasn't an easy job. Those monster rarely if ever left survivors. Either those who survived a sinking were taken prisoner before a rescue ship could arrive or they were, devoured. Farley had the misfortune to see such a thing once. An Abyssal, wounded and starving, was scarfing down the remains of her opponent and her crew. It was a sight the Sea Shepherd cutter still saw in her nightmares.
There was another bright flash, this one brighter than before. At first, Farley assumed it was a combination effect. Wisconsin and perhaps some of her escorts firing simultaneously. But then she realized, with sickening horror, what she was witnessing. "Her magazine's gone!" Farley gasped.
Her sisters stopped their play and now payed rapt attention to the sight on the horizon. Sharpie, with her keener eyesight, got a closer look. "Wisconsin's been hit. Looks like torpedoes."
"Damn, where'd they come from?" muttered Paulie.
"Obviously from a submarine." Farley sighed. "What I wouldn't give for a sonar set right now!"
"Amen to that sister." agreed Sharpie.
"What's happening now?" Paulie asked.
"The crew's abandoning ship. They're scrambling. The escorts are continuing the fire for now but I don't think they'll keep it up for much longer." Sharpie reported.
"Do you see any casualities?" At Farley's deadpan look, Paulie corrected herself. "How many casualties are there?" She asked.
"Hard to tell. I see some wounded. Most of them are either bridge officers or engineering personal. Looks like quite a fair number of people are on deck. They're launching the lifeboats now."
Farley nodded and got on the radio.
"USS Wisconsin, this is MY Farley Mowat calling on Channel 1-6. Do you require assistance, over?"
"Farley Mowat," The voice on the other end was haggard.
"There is a hostile submarine in the area. Request you standby until our escorts can clear the road for you."
"Copy. How much time do you have?"
"Wisconsin's done for. She took 6 torpedoes to her keel. How she's still afloat I can't even begin to guess. But she's doing it, I just hope she can do it long enough for the rest of us to get out of here."
"I"m currently 1-5 miles Southwest of your current position. Once you abandon ship can you sail the lifeboats that distance?"
"Affirmative, we'll be heading your way shortly, Wisconsin out."
"Keep me informed of any changes, Farley out."
The next half hour saw plenty of things happen. A secondary battery on Wisconsin went up in flames, creating a massive column of smoke for the three spectator ships. At this point that was all they were, that's all they ever were. And it was driving them
crazy! Sharpie, Paulie, and Farley were girls of action, if that wasn't evidenced enough by their current career choice. Being forced to sit out a battle, even though it was one they all knew they had no business being in even if they did have weapons, was disheartening.
"The escorts are ceasing fire now, they're turning back." Sharpie reported. Her voice was crisp as it had always been when she was acting professional but Farley could see from the way her lip trembled that she was having a hard time keeping that professionalism. Paulie didn't even bother to hide her tears. Those were US sailors in the water, that was a US ship on fire and the sight was enough to bring tears to even the most hardened veteran.
"So that's it then?" Farley was torn between breaking into tears of her own, feeling some relief that at least some people had survived, and screaming out in frustration at the
thing that had caused all this and would continue to sail on unscathed!
"Ye-no wait!" Sharpie's serious voice took on an excited note and both her sisters moved closer to listen. "There's another ship coming in."
Just as she finished speaking they heard the familiar roar of a battleship's main guns. Splashes were seen as the Abyssal battlecruiser was straddled with one shell actually making a hit. Then the source of the shells came into view.
Farley prided herself on being professional. She was Arizona (without the prude rage!) and they were Mutsu and Hiei! But now, watching that damned monster being pummeled brought out the true Island class in her. As one the three sisters screeched "HELL YEAH! CLEAR THE SEA FOR THE MIGHTY T!!" For the next several minutes, they were given a front row seat to the most spectacular and epic beating in naval history. Texas absolutely demolished the Abyssal, leaving her a wreck before she actually sank!
Once the Abyssal was gone, Farley and her sisters were cleared to move in. Sharpie went off to get some close in pictures of Wisconsin before she sank. Paulie chased after Texas, already going rabid fangirl on the battleship. She'd always had a thing for big guns and big explosions! Farley herself began taking aboard Wisconsin's crew, noting with some surprise just how many survivors there were although she had yet to get an exact number. Her sisters rejoined her to help pick up the lifeboats.
All three now stood by to watch Wisconsin sink, some 45 minutes after being struck. "You will never again see a ship with that much heart." Paulie murmured.
"She was so brave." Sharpie whispered.
Farley wasn't listening to them. She had hear ears tuned to the conversation going on on the bridge between her captain and Wisconsin's captain. And the shocking news she just learned.
"ley! Farley!" Her sisters were calling her and Farley snapped out of her trance with a start, facing her siblings who were looking at her with concern.
"You okay?" Sharpie asked.
"You kinda blanked out for a minute there." Paulie said.
"I'm fine. I just, learned something surprising that's all." Farley replied.
"What is it? Tell us!" Paulie would've been bouncing with suspense if the situation wasn't so unfortunate. Although unfortunate was a matter of perspective, Farley felt.
"I just heard from Wisconsin's captain that the official number of souls rescued is 2,729!"
Silence reigned as Farley announced the number. Sharpie was staring opened mouthed and Paulie looked as though the drill sergeant had just come through the dorms. She was torn between staring in shock and snapping to attention. She settled on the latter, Sharpie and Farley swiftly following suit.
Sharpie, her little voice usually strong now, gave the order. "SEA SHEPHERD FLEET, SALUTE UNITED STATES BATTLESHIP WISCONSIN!"
"RODGER, SALUTE!"
The three little ships sounded their horns in unison, one long and extremely loud (even by American standards) note. The three girls, each standing erect on their prows and dressed in identical Sea Shepherd garb had their hands to their brows in salute.
Wisconsin's escorts joined in and the sea was echoing with a melee of ships horns and praising cries! As Wisconsin's bow slipped under, Farley thought she could see an older girl standing there, returning the salute with a shy faced smile. She met Farley's gaze and gave the Sea Shepherd flagship a nod which Farley returned smartly. Then she was gone, the sea closing over her. Her soul off to the icebound locker to wait until it was needed again.
Paulie, always able to summarize everything with perfect accuracy, said simply "What a ship! What. A. Ship!"
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Some notes:
MY Farley Mowat, formally known as USCGC Pea Island (WPB-1347) was purchased by Sea Shepherd in late 2013 and refitted in a drydock in Florida. The weapons were removed and the hull repainted. She was the first of the Island-class cutters Sea Shepherd bought from the Coast Guard. She has been in service with Sea Shepherd's Gulf fleet the longest and as such is the organization's flagship in the region. She has shoulder length blonde hair and hazel eyes which she keeps covered with sunglasses, necessary in the Gulf of Mexico. She wears a Sea Shepherd crew shirt and hat with her blue jean capris and running shoes. Her hull is painted in the Coast Guard's design but with black replacing the orange.
MY John Paul DeJoria, originally named USCGC Block Island (WPB-1344), she originally rechristened as MY Jules Verne by Sea Shepherd. She was renamed in honor of the American billionare of the same name who is a supporter of Sea Shepherd. She is the most eccentric of the trio and is roughly the American version Mutsu (without the short skirt!). She shares Arizona's dislike for inproper clothing. SecNav help us if they ever got together! She has dirty blonde hair that is usually kept back in a pony tail and stuffed under her Sea Shepherd cap and blue eyes. She has a fondness for jeans with sparkly designs. Her hull is a pattern of blue, black and gray splotches similar to a tank's camoflauge. And she has a shark mouth on her bow.
MY Sharpie, once called the USCGC Bainrbidge Island (WPB-1343) she is named in honor of Chris Sharp who helped invent the Sharpie pen and is quite fond of her namesake. A favorite prank of hers is to doodle so DO NOT let her give you drinks under the table, unless you want to wake up with something you really don't want to see scribbled on your face! She's been a fan of Sea Shepherd for years! And it was a dream come true for her to join the fleet just last year. Her hair is flaming red and she has the temper to match although she rarely lets it come out. Her eyes are green. Although she's never met her flagship, MY Steve Irwin, she adores her and the fact that she has the same paint job (minus the number on the bow) does little to stifle her hero worship, much to Farley's chagrin!
Operation Milagro: A Sea Shepherd Campaign in the Gulf of Mexico that targets illegal poachers in the region in a partnership with the Mexican government. Its goal is to stop poachers, particularly Mexican drug cartels who can't resist the opportunity for a little extra cash, from using driftnets that ensnare the critically endangered Vaquita porpoise that ends up being thrown overboard as by-catch. Estimates say there are fewer than 20 individuals left.
IN the first month of the war, the Abyssal fleets terrorized the world's oceans, bringing commercial shipping to its knees. But despite the decimation, they seemed to have some discrimination in their targets. No true research, survey or environmental protection ship was attacked and in some cases, those ships were allowed to sail straight through an Abyssal fleet without being harmed. One instance, involving Sea Shepherd's flagship MY Steve Irwin off the coast of Britain was extraordinary in that the flagship was given an escort by the Abyssals into port. Incidents such as these where Abyssals show leniency has experts in a dizzy. Some claim that the Abyssals were too tired after engaging a Navy (as most of these instances seem to happen after a battle, but not all) to bother with an unarmed research ship. Others say that the Abyssals actually can tell certain types of ships apart and have chosen a select few who are 'too good to sink'.
