By David Cuoio
Special for Wide Eye Productions
A 20-person oceanographic team from the University of Washington and a Wide Eye Productions documentary crew were 75 miles north of Oahu Jan. 6 on a science expedition when the trip took a sharp departure from the planned itinerary.
Instead of completing the planned experiments to learn more about water conditions and waves that occur deep beneath the ocean surface, the group learned that the 186-foot Kilo Moana research vessel was taking on water and would have to return to port in Honolulu.
The first sign of trouble for the science team came at about 1 p.m. Friday, Jan. 6., when one of the crew told several of us in the lunchroom area that the ship had sprung a leak. I had noticed about 7 a.m. that morning that the stern was dipping unusually close to the water’s surface, but thought nothing of it.
Tom Hadzor, co-owner of Wide Eye Productions and cameraman for the expedition, had mentioned earlier in the morning that something felt wrong and we should watch for signs of trouble. We heard a ship-wide announcement at 2 p.m. that there was a problem and we all should don our life jackets.
We were told a Coast Guard helicopter would be arriving soon and it showed up a short time later. Two Coast Guard rescue swimmers were lowered from the chopper to the deck while Coast Guard C130 airplane circled overhead. The rescue swimmers boarded the ship and three pumps were delivered on board.
About 3:15, we heard an announcement directing us to assemble in the lounge with our life vests. All of us knew that something serious was happening, but we hadn’t been informed officially what that might be. Captain Rick Meyer joined us in the lounge area and announced that the ship was taking a lot of water on one side. But he assured us that the Coast Guard pumps were working. He was also compensating by flooding the ballast compartments on the other side of the vessel so that the listing did not become critical. But, he added, this means the stern is getting very low in the water. He said he had assured the Coast Guard that the ship was not foundering, and that we were not in any immediate danger of sinking.
He added that the Coast Guard was in command of the ship and might direct all passengers to get into the lifeboats if the situation became more serious. He also said we were slowly heading back toward Oahu, about 75 miles to the south.
The mood was calm but somber, especially among the scientists, who had their research work cut short before successful completion. They had all invested time, money, and a big part of themselves in the work, and it was extremely unfortunate that this fluke occurrence should end their research.
The Kilo Moana is an oceanographic research vessel based out of Honolulu and designed to operate in coastal and blue-water areas.
A Coast Guard contingency including a C130 airplane, a Coast Guard helicopter, and three Coast Guard cutters came to the vessel’s rescue.
The Kilo Moana crew and Coast Guard worked throughout the night to ensure we remained afloat. The ship limped slowly toward Honolulu with two Coast Guard ships for company, and we arrived about 7 a.m., dropping anchor about two miles from Honolulu as the sun peeked above the city’s famous Diamondhead landmark to the east.
Two Coast Guard divers almost immediately went into the water to survey the damage, which turned out to be a two-inch-wide hole apparently caused by rust.
By 9 a.m., the divers had patched the hole and we seemed to be well on our way to a resolution of the situation, at least from our point of view. For the crew of the ship, they would have dry dock and then have an indeterminate period of time on shore to think about the strange events of the past 24 hours. Apparently, the crew knew something was wrong early in the morning, but the captain waited to inform the passengers until he had been able to fully assess the situation.
At 9:30 a.m., the captain announced that the emergency was over. We headed slowly for shore about 11:30 and it appeared that we were in the clear, thanks to the professionalism and clear-headed action of the Kilo Moana crew and the contingent from the U.S. Coast Guard.
