[CH.008] In The Weeks That Followed

May 20, 1967 | 8:35 PM

Stratford Pier 005

Fifteen days have elapsed since the Allure went down and sank. Taking with her 107 people's lives, most of which were elderly. While the news cameras were afar and not focused on them, Harold and Joanne were visiting the Pier in which was home to the Allure and the Dauntless; and was also to be home to the Presence once she's completed.

"Have we lost it all?" Joanne asked as she glanced over at him. "Have I lost everything I'd built? The company, the ships, their trust? Have we–,"

"Sweetheart, you nor I, have lost anything. We still have each other," Harold said as he turned to face her, grabbing and holding her hands. "This was something no one could have foreseen."

Standing near the end of the pier, next to a dual pair of black mooring anchors, they watched as ships and boats in various sizes sailed. The sky was turning into a light orangish-pink. As the sun met the horizon's edge, stars were beginning to populate the transitioning sky. Remarkable and breathtakingly mesmerizing.

For once, the journalists, news cameras and reporters were noticeably absent, which to them was a relief. Constant bombardment from hungry journalists was a pain for both of them.

For Harold, everyone wanted to hear his side of the story from that night. For Joanne, everyone had questions in regards to how the company failed to keep their ships safe and modernized.

Having enough lifeboats onboard for all, that wasn't the problem. In fact, everything about the Dauntless and Allure, and soon to be Presence were visibly sound. All except for one thing: the backup electric system.

In the immediate aftermath of the sinking, the Dauntless was pulled from service to undergo a major refit and a few changes. The same could be said for Presence. Even with being early into her construction, the same changes were made; changes that the Dauntless went through too.

With the company's reputation on the decline, the future seemed bleak. In the days since the sinking, board members at the Midwestern Cruises company agreed to cancel their order for a fourth ship.

Joanne looked out onto the vast Lake Michigan. The water was sparkly from reflecting the light. A beautiful phenomenon.

With the Allure being wrecked now for weeks, her former-self appeared on the horizon, similar to a mirage.

GASP! Harold turned to look in the same direction. She pointed out what she was seeing. Appearing as its pre-sinking looks, the Allure was cruising North, its entire starboard side exposed.

It's a gut-wrenching reminder of its absence from its designated Pier 005.

Harold stayed behind on the Bridge after he relieved Roan, Burt, and the Helmsman from their duties. Following maritime tradition, he would remain and go down with the ship. There was nothing he could do now to slow or prevent the ship from sinking.

From the time he'd found out the ship would sink to now, he kept a close eye on the time.

"Thirty minutes," he mumbled to himself as he covered his wrist-watch.

After the capsizing and final plunge, he miraculously found himself back on the surface. Confused, dazed, and out of breath, he located a nearby suitcase. He swam towards it and used it for flotation. Had he violated the maritime tradition? By not going down with his ship, is he now considered a coward? Had he metaphorically joined a rare bunch of cowards like J. Bruce Ismay and Francesco Schettino [even though Schettino wouldn't join this list until 2012].

So no, the Press was not looking to scold and shame him. In fact, in the days following, local newspapers would deem him a commendable, honorable Captain. Further reporting of his quick actions. Even though 102 lives were lost, that number could have been much higher if not for him and the crew.

In the ten years since the Allure sank, he and Joanne's marriage fell apart; ending in divorce. Divorced in 1976, Harold relocated to Green Bay. Again, in 1978, he then moved to Sturgeon Bay. Where he is currently living the remainder of his days.

Midwestern Cruises' reputation wouldn't fully recover. The Waylen Bros Shipbuilding company fell victim to bankruptcy. In 1979, Midwestern Cruises ceased operations, selling off its two ships; the S.S Dauntless and S.S Presence.

The fate of the Dauntless was sealed with her being scrapped. The Presence sailed her final voyage to Sturgeon Bay to become the museum and hotel ship it is today. For Harold, every time he'd see or drive past it, it'd bring back the haunting memories. Memories he wished could be buried.

When 2009 came around, he went on to start a unique, new business: Odyssey Marine. Joanne would spend thousands of her own money to find the cause of the sinking. But as she dug deeper, every path led to nowhere. Until now.

"Why are you here?" Harold asked.

Joanne took her sunglasses off, putting them into her purse. She then unzipped a bigger pocket, and pulled out a large yellow envelope. She handed the envelope to him.

"Because I know what sank the Allure, and cost me my life's work and fortune," she said.

"How?" Harold asked as he opened it and reached inside. Whatever was inside, it was small and rectangular. There were also pictures and other documents and such. But what he pulled out was a black flash drive.

"All the evidence you need," Joanne said with a slight smirk as she then looked to her left and into the conference room. Everyone inside was sitting around the table watching her and Harold talk.

"Kiss already!" Greg shouted with his hands cupped around his mouth. Dallanie smacked Greg's arm as she gave him an angry glare.

"Quite the team you have in there," Joanne said as she looked back over at him. She smiled. "Who's the handsome fella? The masculine one?"

"Well I don't work out much like I used to," Harold said. Joanne interrupted him.

"No, no," she chuckled, "that man. The one in there."

"Right, you meant John. He's a survivor," Harold answered.

That answer struck Joanne as confusing. The answer was vague and not what she was hoping to hear. In her mind, she saw an attractive, young man. His looks are as mesmerizing as Harold's once was back in the day.

Harold held the flash drive in his hand as he pulled out the pictures kept in the envelope. Upon first glance, he recognized these pictures. They were the same pictures he had as potential evidence.

The first one was of the S.S Allure wreck site. Grey, these pictures derived from sonar and underwater imaging equipment. Lying on her side, only her starboard side was visible. From the aerial images taken, Harold squints his eyes as he spots a new potential lead; a large hole in the mid-ship hull.

But that wasn't the only thing he'd noticed. Branching out in all directions, were many clear-as-day cracks in the hull; which varied in sizes.

"That's the hole. It backs up John's story," Harold said as he switched to another picture.

"I know what you're thinking," Joanne told him, "and no the hole wasn't the culprit."

"Then what was it?" Harold asked.

"You'll want to sit before you see the rest," Joanne warned.

Without questioning why, he looked up at her. She raised her arm to guide him back to the doors going into the conference room. He held the photos when he turned around to walk back into the room. Everyone was quiet, all staring at him and Joanne.

John hadn't met Joanne yet. To be fair to Harold, that is, it wasn't part of his plan to introduce her to him. But now that she's here with him, he might as well do so, right?

"Harold?" John questioned. "Are you alright?"

"Peachy-keen," Harold replied with a quick, subtle smile, "quite alright, yes."

Joanne hung her purse up on the coat rack, along with her coat. She walked back over to Harold, putting one hand on his shoulder and her other on his arm.

"Sit, darling, sit," she insisted.

Harold's heart was racing as the two of them walked over to two open chairs. They then both took their seats. The envelope now rests on the table, with the photos just barely poking out the top.

"Joanne here, claims to have–," he stumbled and gulped, "claims to have–have found the culprit behind the sinking."

Everyone was thrown off and shocked. This was something they weren't all prepared to hear just yet. But now the time has come to bring this investigation back to home base.

"You're joking!" Greg said.

Harold looked over at him, shaking his head.

"I'm not."

Joanne grabbed his hand to lift it off of the envelope. She then slid it across the table.

"Open it."

Greg picked the envelope up. He held it up at the lights to see inside of it. He squinted his eyes because he was still in disbelief. Tipping it upside down, the pictures, flash drive, and other papers fell out and onto the table. One picture landing upright for everyone to see.

Dallanie, Dalton, Jeff, and John all stood up and leaned over. Joanne and Harold remained seated.

This photo, unlike the other showcasing the wreck site, was taken on the night of the sinking. It showed the point-of-view from a lifeboat. But not one from the Allure, but from the Dauntless. There was a watermark with the date and time stamp in the corner:

S.S Allure - - Starboard

05 May, 1967 | 08:31:33

This was a photo no one had seen but Joanne up to this point. How was it that she had something they didn't? It was a bit off-putting and odd, yes. But it was helpful in the end.

Dallanie turned the other photos right side up. She arranged them into two rows. Dalton leaned further over the table, reaching for the flash drive. He grabbed it and sat back down. But this lasted less than a minute before standing up.

"What's this?" He asked, glaring over to his left at Joanne and Harold. She was rubbing his back to help keep him calm. He was shaking, and his eyes were beginning to get watery.

"Plug it in and find out," Joanne said, "I'm only the currier,"

"Okay…so not what I was asking," he said as he tried to ask the question again, but more clearly. "What's on this drive that's so important to us?"

"Pictures, news segments, digitized contracts with the shipbuilders, and survivor testimonies; Harold being one of the many survivors."

"Woah, woah, woah," Dalton said, "you were there? You were on the ship?"

Harold didn't immediately answer. It's like he was frozen in time. He wasn't all there, but he heard everything that was said.

"Not only was he on the ship," Joanne began explaining, "he was its Captain."

"What?" Greg asked confusingly. "Come again."

"Which part?" She asked. "First or second?"

"First," Greg answered.

"He was Captain," she repeated to him again.

"Holy shit," Greg said as he glanced around at everyone, then plopping back down into his chair. "Holy shit," he muttered again. "How'd I not see that coming?"

"Because you're a dumbass?" Dallanie suggested as she nudged him on the shoulder with her elbow.

Click. Dalton had plugged the flash drive into the laptop which the projector was screening. After clicking a few more times, he came across the hundreds of digitized documents, more photos, newspaper articles, nationwide media broadcast segments, and testimonies of the hundreds that survived and victims' family interviews.

"Start with the S.S Allure Collision Damage 1966 file," Joanne suggested. Dalton clicked on the file, which brought up a photo of the ship being prepared to return to service. The ten lifeboats were being hoisted back up to the Boat Deck to be re-installed.

"Next," Joanne said.

The picture changed, with the next picture depicting the final inspection by the Board of Trade and SOLAS (Safety Of Life At Sea) before the Allure returned to daily service. After the collision with the Edmund Fitzgerald in '66 and being repaired, a new safety certification inspection was required.

After spending almost two weeks through rigorous testing and trials, the S.S Allure was cleared and deemed safe for service once again.

"It's all making sense now," Dalton mumbled under his breath. "I have a theory."

"Please do tell," Joanne said.

"After the '66 collision, the ship was returned to Waylen Bros. to undergo repairs; which I now know spanned over sixty days (60). Am I on the right track?" Dalton asked.

"You're getting warmer," Joanne responded with a subtle nod.

"For the remainder of the '66 cruising season, the ship suffered no further incidents or accidents. From seeing the cracks in the hull on the wreck, there's only one culprit that comes to mind."

"You're still getting warmer."

"The lack of proper repairs led to the sinking a year later. The rogue wave only worsened the already compromised hull."

"I'm stumped. The rogue wave wasn't the cause? If not that, then what was?"

"Shut up and let me finish," Dalton snapped angrily. "The culprit behind the cause for the sinking is…"

Dalton momentarily paused to build suspense.

"WHAT?" Dallanie shouted.

"The Waylen Bros Shipbuilding Company," he finally revealed, "over time, in the location of where the hull was repaired, micro-cracks began spreading. With every voyage the Allure took after that, only made the growth continue. Upon the ship's stern crashing back down into the water, those micro-cracks formed bigger ones. The ship absorbed the impact, but suffered heavy damage. Ultimately, in the end, her fate was sealed."

"There you have it folks," Joanne said. "You're good. It took fifty-six (56) long years, but here we are."

"Now what?" Greg asked.