Sea Stories Quotes

“They played, not beautifully but deep, ignoring their often discordant strings and striking right into the heart of the music they knew best, the true notes acting as their milestones. On the poop above their heads, where the weary helmsmen tended the new steering-oar and Babbington stood at the con, the men listened intently; it was the first sound of human life that they had heard, apart from the brief Christmas merriment, for a time they could scarcely measure.”
― Patrick O'Brian, Desolation Island

“Now Mr. Green was so completely a star of a confined orbit, that his ideas seldom described a tangent to their ordinary revolutions.”
― James Fenimore Cooper, Homeward Bound

“Sometimes people with the greatest depth, appear to be like fish out of water.”
― Curtis Tyrone Jones

“Love alone can make a human abandon his heart and home, and love for a handsome fisherman alone can separate a small mermaid from the sea to the point of scooting alone an dry rocky terrain and ignoring the pain and suffering of the land.”
― Moniro Ravanipour, اهل غرق

“Marseille could be like the wind out on the sea. It could whip like the wind. It could fall quiet.”
― Christopher X. Shade, The Good Mother of Marseille

“A greedy man can never learn the language of the sea.”
― Gillian McClure, Selkie

“It seemed as if the crud of the universe had found its way into the two rose boxes. The strainers were choked with unmentionable sludge and with every handful of muck I pulled out, I expected to find a decaying dead rat. Of course, this idea was firmly planted into my cranium by the upperclassmen, but this was not to be. Instead, I found rags, paper, lots of gunky oil, a few pens, some socks and someone’s denim shirt. One bucket at a time was lifted with my hands until the job was done. Some diesel oil and clean rags cleaned the metal surfaces good enough to be painted. I have no idea how long it took to dry, if it ever did, but the engineers were impressed enough to allow me time for dinner.”
― Captain Hank Bracker, "Salty & Saucy Maine",

“Discharging cargo in the ports along the coast of South Africa went faster than loading it, but from Durban up to Dar es Salaam, hoping to save a little time not to mention port costs, we frequently did both at the same time, in these quaint little harbors along the coast,
By now some of these ports had become old hat to me and so I volunteered to stay aboard. This way I could make some overtime pay by covering for some of the other mates, who wanted to go ashore.
When we finally got to Dar es Salaam and I was informed that we would be there for a few days, I took advantage of the situation and finally went ashore. One of my favorite places in this British owned, colonial town was the “New Africa Hotel.“ It had an open air courtyard in the middle of the building, with wild monkeys swinging through the trees making loud blood curdling noises. Although the rooms were not air-conditioned, they were open to a constant breeze coming in off the Indian Ocean.
In the 1950’s, all of the beds had mosquito netting to keep the pesky winged vampires out and to prevent getting malaria; which most of us got anyway.”
― Captain Hank, "Seawater Three"

“I had graduated from high school the week before and was now a crewmember on a Dutch ship. This was my first job aboard ship and now I found myself heading down the Hudson River, past the Statue of Liberty. There wasn’t much time for sightseeing since the dinner chimes had been rung and the few passengers we had, were coming into the dining room. No one had explained my duties but I watched the other stewards and followed suit. I must have been a fast learner since amazingly enough all went well, and before I knew it the dining room was empty and it was cleanup time. I’m certain that having worked in my uncle’s restaurants helped but I’m glad I survived without any mishaps. I knew that tomorrow would go even smoother now that I understood the routine.
When I told my parents that I was going to sea, they didn’t ask any questions and seemed to take it all for granted. Everything happened extremely fast. On the very same day that I was hired, I was on this foreign flagship bound for Le Havre and Rotterdam, without having as much as a passport. Most of the crewmembers that went on strike were left behind for U.S. Immigration to sort out, provided that they could even be rounded up. For me, it was my first seagoing adventure! Being the youngest and newest crewmember on the ship earned me a bunk four tiers up and against the bulkhead, next to the chain locker. You couldn’t get any farther forward, which made me feel that I would be the first to get to where the ship was going. I didn’t take into account that it would also be the first part of the ship that would slam into the sea or anything else that got in the way, but such was the life of a seaman.”
― Captain Hank Bracker, "Seawater One"

“There were times when I had to face problems that were of a tribal nature and unless I could solve them instantly they would fester and eventually lead to unexpected consequences or perhaps even my death. I encountered this sort of situation with my steward Henry Roland Cavalla. At the time he had a financial problem at home because of gambling and asked for a raise in pay, which I was not authorized to give. To do so would cause problems with the other crew members who could all justify a pay raise for one reason or another.
It must have been the umpteenth time that he Henry had approached me with this request and as usual I turned him down with an explanation as to why. At times I would give him a few extra dollars out of my pocket but this time I reacted with a curt “No! I told you how it works countless times!” Although this time was no different than the other times Henry reacted violently. Lunging forward he bit me through my shirt with teeth that had been sharpened with a file. Fortunately my Bosun Togar was there and jumped into the fray. Holding Henry at bay I went to my head (bathroom) and after pouring 90% pure alcohol on the wound, covered it with a towel and a new shirt. When I reappeared it was as if nothing had happened. Sitting down at my desk I proceeded to read the regulations by which I could fire him and even turn him over to the police…. Crying he begged for forgiveness, telling me how financially strapped he was and how much he needed this job. Togar even added that he knew how much Henry needed the job and that he had never had a problem with me and could I give him another chance. In the end I suspended Henry for a month telling him and to go back to his village and straighten things out. He never knew how severe my wound was but it did heal, however I carried a very visable scar for years.”
― Captain Hank Bracker, "Seawater Two...."

“As the captain of a ship in West Africa I was lord and master. Of course this left the door open for a lot of shenanigans, some of which I describe in my book "Seawater Two." It was an exciting adventure!”
― Captain Hank Bracker, "Seawater Two...."

“He was thinking about his grandfathers, the hardships they endured for their families’ sake, and for the generations to continue and survive. They were real heroes, and they were sportsmen too, diving is one of the hardest sports in the world.”
― Noora Ahmed Alsuwaidi, Dive, Fahad, Dive

“The two friends were whispering in the dark of the night, and the steady waves of the sea were covering their voices from the rest of the crew. “Look, our grandfathers had horrible incidents, some of them died, some of them faced sharks and survived, no matter what happened to them, they were always strong enough to return to the sea,” said Fahad.”
― Noora Ahmed Alsuwaidi, Dive, Fahad, Dive

“Seawater Two - Adventures in West Africa is part of a series of books illustrating the life and times of Captain Hank Bracker. Seawater Two follows his adventures as a young Ship's Captain and Harbor Pilot in Liberia, West Africa. This book takes the reader for a boat ride along the dangerous coast of Africa and into the interior by river, during the post WWII years. Being a no holds barred book it describes the environment, culture and personal encounters with the people of Liberia. It's not the kind of book you would want to put down until you have savored every page.  ”
― Captain Hank Bracker, "Seawater Two...."

“When I joined Farrell Lines I didn’t know that I would become part of a legend. The company had a reputation of looking after its own and it was understood that the employees would also be willing to go the extra mile when called upon to do so. As for the rest, the company didn’t try to micro manage. As the captain of one of their ships I was, kind of, the lord and master. Of course this left the door open for a lot of shenanigans, some of which I will describe throughout the book. All in all, it was an exciting adventure!”
― Captain Hank Bracker, "Seawater Two...."

“Not seeing that many visitors to the island, my cab driver Harry was only too happy to tell me the story of Napoleon on Saint Helena as he saw it. The way he told me the story I could have believed that it took place just days ago instead of over two hundred years prior. Napoleon had arrived on the island as a prisoner, on October 17, 1815 and lived there until his death resulting from stomach cancer on May 5, 1821. During this time he enjoyed the company of a young teenage girl named ,. Many years later, Napoleon III the nephew of Napoleon Bonaparte, rewarded Betsy with 500 hectares of land with vineyards in Algeria for the attention and comfort she provided his uncle.”
― Captain Hank Bracker, "Seawater Three"

“Your magic carpet to the "Reeperbahn" or "St. Pauli" is the Metro known as the S Bahn or U Bahn. My visit to this seedy part of Hamburg was cut short primarily because it was expensive and my time in Lisbon cost more than I had expected, but aside from that you always have to be aware of pickpockets and tricksters. A large police presence does, for the greatest part, keep crime down and fortunately I didn’t have any problems. Many of the establishments are closed during the day and the area doesn’t come to life before 8 PM. If you do visit St. Pauli during the daylight hours, expect things to be quiet and perhaps you’ll get a lucky break. If nothing else, you’ll have a fantastic view of the busy harbor as the street runs alongside the Elbe River. Go early on Sunday morning and the St. Pauli Landungsbrücken, the boat landing, will have become an active flee market.”
― Captain Hank, "Seawater Three"

“Stories from Beyond the Sea – “I could not believe my good luck!” from Page 31
“Not only was she stunningly beautiful but she was also witty, flirtatious and at the same time understanding and loving, I couldn’t believe my good fortune and did all I could to convince her to stay with me in the United States.
After getting married to my young wife Ursula, in a small town in upstate New York, and thinking that the US Navy would be a better option than returning to a life at sea on merchant ships, I took the navy exam to become a student pilot. As a commissioned officer with the rank of Lieutenant Junior Grade (LTJR) I enjoyed many benefits that the aviation cadets didn’t get, including having basic living quarters.
Having had some prior experience flying the right hand seat in a DC-3 when I was in Liberia, I took to aviation, my new endeavor, like a duck to water.”
― Captain Hank Bracker, Stories from Beyond the Sea

“Knüppel of the French Foreign Legion from Seawater Two, taken from page 164

In a flash I ascended the steep ladder to the bridge and opened the door to the wheelhouse.

Once inside, I stood in the shadows where I knew that I was out of sight and carefully peered through the windows. What I saw made my heart skip a beat. It was Franz Knüppel, making his way between some of the huge bales of rubber towards the forward part of the ship. In the dark I fumbled for the signal pistol kept in a box on the bridge for emergencies and rammed a cartridge into its chamber.

Not wanting to lose sight of Knüppel, I quietly stepped out onto the wing of the bridge, all the time keeping my eye on him…. I don’t think that he knew that he had been seen, because by this time he had made his way to the bollard holding our bow lines. Still trying to stay out of sight, I quickly stepped forward and watched as he suddenly took a few steps to where he could leap across the open space between the dock and the ship. “What’s he up to?” I thought, as I saw him coming down the port side of my ship, the MV Farmington, closing the distance between us. My heart was racing as I finally stepped out of the shadows and pointed the pistol at him from the bridge and said in my most convincing way, “Get off my ship or I’ll fry your balls with a flare!” I was so nervous that had I pulled the trigger it could well have happened.”
― Captain Hank Bracker, "Seawater Two...."

“What was I to do, after sailing the seven seas now that we moved to 33 Van Wart Avenue, on the Scarsdale line of White Plains, NY. Like they say, money doesn’t grow on trees, so it was up to me to find a job. The economy wasn’t all that great and the best I could do was to find a commission job selling home fire detection units. One of the senior salesmen took me under his wing and showed me the ropes. The most important part of the pitch was to emphasize the importance of the fire detection unit and how, after declining our product a family had a fire in their home. The hapless husband was found stretched across the bed where he obviously died attempting to reach the telephone, while his family succumbed to the super-heated poisonous gasses and raging flames. It all could have been prevented if only they would have bought the fire detection unit when it was offered.
I hated cold calling and selling something to people that they couldn’t afford was not in my nature. I wasn’t like my brother who could lure a hungry dog off the back of a meat wagon! It wasn’t that I didn’t try, because the more often I told the story the worse it got! I could just tell that the people I talked to knew that I was full of shXt and all I wanted to do was get out of there, although one of the sales rules was that you stayed until the people invited you to leave at least three times.
For every rebuttal I had an answer and for every financial problem I had a solution, to put them even further into debt. In the end I would come home with my tail between my legs and with Ursula, watched the midnight horror show with John Zacherle. Dick Clark, a friend, gave Zacherle his nickname, "The Cool Ghoul," and for us it was television at it’s very best in the 1960’s.”
― Captain Hank Bracker, "Seawater One"

“One of the crew shouted, “Man overboard!” Seeing what had happened, I instantly threw the engines into reverse, attempting to stop the vessel’s headway without backing over my floundering steward. As the ship shuttered from the unexpected reverse thrust of her engines, now running full speed astern and fighting the current, I watched helplessly as a large prehistoric reptile slithered into the muddy river. Instinctively he was followed by others. Within an instant they were underwater and out of sight, but I knew they were heading in our direction hoping for a tasty dinner. It took a while for me to actually stop the ship’s headway and start to back down. The bosun already had a ladder over the side and yelled to him to stop trashing around, but Henry was panicking and we all expected him to get pulled under. Henry quickly became aware of the imminent danger he was in and stopped floundering, thus allowing the current to carry him in our direction.
Now with the ship stopped, we were at the mercy of the current. Henry, with fear painted on his face, would never be closer to us than now. This was the time for him to swim the last short distance, but his fear and knowing that splashing would attract the crocodiles caused him to freeze. With everyone shouting instructions it became confusing, so calculating the risk, I dove in and with just a few powerful strokes was next to Henry. The water was cool compared to the moist air and I thought it felt refreshing, but the only thing I should have been thinking about was getting the two of us out of there! Reaching out, I grabbed his already torn shirt and in what seemed less than a nanosecond towed him back to the ship. A push by me and a pull by the ship’s bosun landed the hapless steward on the deck like a fish out of water. Not wasting any time, I was up the ladder and onto the main deck in a shot. Looking back I half expected to see the huge mouth and glistening white teeth of a fearsome crocodilian. However, nothing stirred as we drifted with the current. Looking back to the now empty river bank I knew that just beneath the surface, they were in the murky water looking for us. Firing the engines up again, I turned the ship away from the bank and back on course in the channel. Handing the helm over to the Quartermaster, I went below to get changed since we would be approaching the treacherous sand bar in about a half hour.”
― Captain Hank Bracker, "Seawater Two...."

“ Once inside, I stood in the shadows where I knew that I was out of sight and carefully peered through the windows. What I saw made my heart skip a beat. It was Franz Knüppel, making his way between some of the huge bales of rubber towards the forward part of the ship. In the dark I fumbled for the signal pistol kept in a box on the bridge for emergencies and rammed a cartridge into its chamber.
Not wanting to lose sight of Knüppel, I quietly stepped out onto the wing of the bridge, all the time keeping my eye on him…. I don’t think that he knew that he had been seen, because by this time he had made his way to the bollard holding our bow lines. Still trying to stay out of sight, I quickly stepped forward and watched as he suddenly took a few steps to where he could leap across the open space between the dock and the ship. “What’s he up to?” I thought, as I saw him coming down the port side of the Farmington closing the distance between us. My heart was racing as I stepped out of the shadows and pointed the pistol at him from the bridge and said in my most convincing way, “Get off my ship or I’ll fry your ba11s with a flare!” I was so nervous that had I pulled the trigger it could well have happened.
“I’m just looking for Olaf,” he lied. Acting as judge and jury I proclaimed, “The hell you are, he’s dead, you killed him and now it’s your turn!”
I never saw anyone move as fast. Knüppel jumped to the dock and ran, ducking between the big bales of raw rubber. Suddenly all of the lights on the dock came on, illuminating everything within sight. The watchman having heard the commotion had thrown the master switch and now started blowing his English Bobbie’s whistle as he gave chase. I knew that the watchman was no match for Knüppel and hoped that he wouldn’t have to confront him.
By now the entire Port of Harbel was awake! I could see lights going on everywhere, but Franz Knüppel, the deserter from the French Foreign Legion, eluded the watchman and disappeared into the dark. I’m glad that I didn’t have to pull the trigger because I only had one shot handy and would have had to make it count. I don’t know where Knüppel went, but the night swallowed him up!”
― Captain Hank Bracker, "Seawater Two...."

“We flew into the small airfield in Monrovia where we were met by Jimmy, Captain Duffy’s assistant. It didn’t take long, driving on the back streets to get to the city hospital. Jimmy carefully avoided many of the potholes that pockmarked the wet streets but without seatbelts it was a bumpy ride that I wouldn’t want to repeat!
One German and two Liberian doctors along with some orderlies shared the responsibilities of running the hospital. A few local nurses and attendants completed the staff. These few people were all they had to do everything, and I guess the hospital was lucky to have them. One of the attendants wearing a bloodstained shirt accompanied us on our way to the morgue. As he opened the large swinging door I was hit by an unmistakable sweet pungent odor of death that nearly caused me to throw up right there on the spot. Not having as much as a handkerchief to keep out the smell, I simply covered my nose and mouth with my hand and followed the attendant into the metal building. It took a moment for my eyes to adjust from the still bright afternoon sun to the dark interior of the shed, but as they did, I witnessed a sight I can never forget. In the heat of this building were a few bloated, decaying naked cadavers lying on planks, with hundreds of flies swarming around them. If they didn’t have sheets for the living, it couldn’t be expected that there would be any for the dead. Turning on the single lightbulb hanging over a stainless-steel tray table with a corpse on it, allowed us to see the room better. The naked body directly in front of me, with its mutilated head propped up by a block of wood, was startling and is still vivid to this day. Although a part of his skull was crushed in, I could see where crabs had been eating the side of his face. Despite this mutilation I could instantly tell that it was Olaf. His ashen face had a stubble growth on it and the grey, gaping, bloodless wound on his forehead showed that he had either been in a terrible accident or murdered! There was no doubt as to what had happened to Olaf and I knew that it wasn’t an accident. Murder was commonplace in Liberia, especially in Monrovia.”
― Captain Hank Bracker, Stories from Beyond the Sea

“Once upon a time, on the MV Cavalla Mosquitoes were everywhere especially along the river. When I first arrived in West Africa I was used repellent and constantly swatted them. Most frequently they just sat there and, when slapped, splashed red blood in all directions. The seasoned TTTs would laugh making remarks about how the insects liked new blood. In time everyone contracted malaria! All the quinine and other derivatives only helped marginally to prevent malaria and actually caused some expats to cut short their contracts and return home early.

I, like many others, just put up with it, not really being aware of how dangerous the disease could be. Now it was Captain Turner’s turn to wind up in the hospital. Covering for him was different since the MV Cavalla was an old landing vessel that we didn’t even consider a ship. Be that as it may, on that occasion I had to take over for Captain John Turner who had graduated a year before me, from the New York State Maritime College, and had gone totally native. He had grown a long shaggy beard and although having been admonished on a number of occasions, wore nothing more than a loin cloth and a uniform cap. His dark tan added to his wild image but I felt that in time it could cause him a problem. He only had a few months left on his contract but insanely offered to stay longer. Now malaria got the best of him and he wound up in the hospital. My guess was that they would have sent him back early if they could of, but we weren’t that easy to replace.”
― Hank Bracker

“Although I hadn’t planned it, I suddenly got an idea. This would be a once in a lifetime opportunity to bring something worthwhile back to The United States. So, I asked Eddie if he could bring something big back to New York for me. “What might that be” he asked suspecting that I was up to no good. “No, it’s not narcotics, it’s a dug out native canoe.” I replied. “Well, I won’t have room in any of the holds but we can lash it down on deck. “Good I’ll have it to you within an hour!”
― Hank Bracker

“After crossing most of the North American continent our destination was Goldfield Nevada, a place in the middle of nowhere that I had been to some years before. This ghost town held a special place in my heart and I still feel nostalgic remembering how I got there from LA when I was in my teens. Now as we rolled into town I had the same feeling and thought that my son’s would capture the same aura that I felt years before.
Entering the “Santa Fe Club,” an authentic old saloon, we were greeted as if we were neighbors that had just stopped in for a drink. It was as if I had never left but of course that wasn’t true. The bartender asked if we were there for some chicken? I had no idea what he was talking about until he explained that a chicken truck had run off the road and rolled over just outside of town.
It took some doing but some of the men in town caught, killed, cleaned and plucked a wack of them and brought them to the saloon for frying. I assumed that he meant that he had fried the chickens and best of was that he offered them free to anyone who came through the doors.
I still don’t know if they tasted so good because we were hungry or that they were free. The story of the chicken truck was told for years afterward but he also told me that he remembered me from before, when I was the kid looking for the publisher of the five-page newspaper. “Well, he’s gone and is now in the cemetery but we’re not, so have some more chicken” were his lasting words of wisdom!”
― Captain Hank Bracker, Seawater series

“Esta era a diferença: o mar respeitava nossa masculinidade. Os canhões, não.”
― Carsten Jensen, We, the Drowned

“Choosing to continue feeling disappointment about lost joys keeps us from experiencing new ones. We just need to stay afloat during the hard times so that we are ready when good times come again. This is one of the chief lessons we have learned from life on a boat, though not the first...”
― Tanya Hackney, Leaving the Safe Harbor: The Risks and Rewards of Raising a Family on a Boat

“Choosing to continue feeling disappointment about lost joys keeps us from experiencing new ones. We just need to stay afloat during the hard times so that we are ready when good times come again. This is one of the chief lessons we have learned from life on a boat.”
― Tanya Hackney, Leaving the Safe Harbor: The Risks and Rewards of Raising a Family on a Boat

“They were survivors. They didn't complain. They didn't blame others for their misfortune. They worked hard and expected the same from their children. They treasured their friendships. They fought for their marriages. They wore their patriotism on their sleeves, and while they weren't naive about America's faults, they knew that no other country in the world valued their service and sacrifice as much as the United States did. They flew their flags proudly and without apology.”
― William H. McRaven, Sea Stories: My Life in Special Operations