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Quote by Captain Hank Bracker, "Seawater One"

“In 1934, my parents and the aunts and uncles that accompanied them on their return to Germany, stayed with my grandmother and other family members during this difficult time. To get away from the overwhelming stress everyone felt, they took a day’s outing to the grassy countryside known as die Luneburger Heide, which lay about 50 km southeast of Hamburg. North Germany is not known for its good weather, but I heard that on that particular day it was sunny and perfect for a picnic. From their slightly elevated vantage point, they watched a parade of young men in the Hitler Youth march by. As the band played and the Nazi flag fluttered, most of the people got up out of respect… or could it have been from fear? That is, everyone but my family stood up! They were new Americans and proud of their adopted country, so they alone didn’t salute the repressive flag that was paraded by and they certainly didn’t feel that they had to show any loyalty to it. It did not take long before my family was aggressively surrounded by “Nazi Brown Shirts” and confronted for this unpardonable violation. Pretending not to understand German or the importance of the circumstances, they were allowed to depart from the scene, being thought of as uneducated schweinehunde, another derogatory slang word meaning pig-dogs. It seems that this conflict could have been avoided, had they just stood up and paid due deference to the flag. Considering the times, it was lucky that they got away with their little scam. To the Nazis it was not just a game, the swastika represented their new order, in defiance of the Treaty of Versailles. I don’t know if my family realized how lucky they were, that this incident didn’t escalate. It is interesting to note that civil servants and members of the German military were expected to take oaths pledged to Hitler himself, and not to the Constitution or the German state. Oaths were taken very seriously by members of the German armed forces. They considered them to be part of a personal code of honor. This put the military in a position of personal servitude, making them the personal instrument of Hitler. In September of that year, at the annual Nuremberg Nazi Party rallies, Hitler euphemistically proclaimed that the German form of life would continue for the next thousand years.”

Quote by Captain Hank Bracker, "Seawater One"

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Captain Hank Bracker, "Seawater One"

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“… I said, “Jimmy, tell the Captain that Maarten will most likely call crying about me.” Jimmy laughed and said, “He already did!” Back on the river, fighting a seven knot current we made slow headway upstream towards Harbel. First my First Mate Olaf was murdered, and now my Chief Engineer. In my gut I knew that Maarten was right about who killed Eddie, but what possessed Eddie to have sex with one of the tribal girls was beyond me. He must have known the consequences if he got caught; I just didn’t understand what got into Eddie. Messing around with tribal girls was bad enough, but once they have been promised to someone else by the chief, it spelled real trouble. Suddenly the thought came to me that Maarten may have been fooling around with the native girls as well. Was it Maarten? If so how could he have twisted the facts around so that Eddie would take the fall? No ready answer came to me, so I would have to let it go. Besides, Maarten was alive and had a family. Without proof I had nothing, other than a lingering doubt.”

MurderMma Captain Hank BrackerSeastoriesTribal Girls
Author:Captain Hank Bracker, "Seawater Two...."
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“Horse Racing in Durban from Seawater Three Durban, South Africa was the end of the line for us. We usually did not know how far up the East Coast we would go, since it always depended on our cargo. On the African Enterprise it was different and instead we depended on the passengers. Most of the time the last of the passengers were off the ship before we got to Durban but that was not always a given. I loved Durban where the food was wonderful, and the girls were fun. Kerstin was no exception and was always ready to have a good time. The racetrack was one of the places that we would go to and where, with a little inside information, I would know how to place my bets. When I asked Kerstin why she wasn’t cleaning up at the track she simply said that it was not a sure thing. It was for the same reason that I usually just placed conservative bets, but my returns were still enough to pay for my food, drinks, and ample pocket money. I still do not know why Tiger Wright a “once-was” jockey shared his valuable information with me, but he did it in a coded way. He never just blurted out what he knew, rather he would say things like “If it was me, I would consider…., or I would never place a bet on a horse called ….” Only once did he say that a certain horse was sure to win; and it did! Perhaps he liked me or perhaps he was just bragging but I know that he liked my company. He also definitely loved the company of the beautiful ladies that surrounded him. I knew that he liked Kerstin, but for whatever reason, she did not play his game.”

South AfricaMma Captain Hank BrackerHorse RacingDurban
Author:Captain Hank Bracker, "Seawater Three"
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“BA Nubian Princess Zahra for a young man, Liberia was exciting, but it was also an outright dangerous place to be. It wasn’t only the dangerous situations that could present themselves, such as suddenly being confronted by gangs or petty criminals on the streets or along the roads between villages. There were also natural dangers that could run the gamut from snake bites to being attacked by wild animals. I constantly heard stories, told to me by my crew members, of friends, family and neighbors being seriously hurt or killed in the bush. When I was born in 1934 my life expectancy was 59.3 years. When I came to Liberia the average life expectancy in Liberia was 33.1 years. Now in the United States it is 78.5 years and in Liberia it is 62.9 years. Things have improved in both countries, but at my “advanced age” I consider myself very fortunate. Regardless of the severity of the obvious dangers in Liberia, the greatest danger is still what could come from not understanding the tribal rules based on long held traditions, which were both secular and religious in nature. Fooling around with the local women might be a nice way to spend an afternoon or evening but the ramifications could be costly, dangerous or even deadly! It wouldn’t even matter if the flirtation had been started by the girl, or let’s say woman, because Liberia’s women don’t remain girls very long. But, the memories of their families are long-lasting!”

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Author:Captain Hank Bracker, "Seawater Two...."
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“Entering the city of Monrovia on Tubman Boulevard, the road suddenly became paved and a little smoother. Most of the other streets were made of sand and coated with used crankcase oil, making them extremely slick. I couldn’t believe the huge water-filled potholes everywhere; couldn’t they fill them in? A major problem was that there was no way of knowing how deep the holes were since they were full of water…. Jimmy had his hands full bouncing along in a car that didn’t seem to have shocks, and from the looks of the tires I don’t believe the front wheels had ever been aligned. Some of the streets went from being a rutted, muddy mess, to being exposed bed-rock with shale stone filling in the worst holes. Somehow Jimmy skillfully navigated these streets, at what I considered at the time, as being reckless speeds. We passed simple dwellings pieced together from flotsam, debris, and recycled planks or pieces of plywood, including what appeared to be random soft drink signs and the likes. It reminded me of some of the Mexican border towns I had been to. There were mangy dogs picking through the piles of garbage, without much hope of finding anything edible. The raw garbage, scattered on the streets, had obviously been picked through already by people or other feral beasts trying to live off the land. If the dogs and cats left anything behind, I could only imagine the rats getting it!”

AfricaLiberiaMma Captain Hank BrackerMonrovia
Author:Captain Hank Bracker, "Seawater Two...."
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“Olaf’s casket was carefully placed on canvas straps across the open grave, ready to be lowered with hand cranks. At the head stood the young minister who I felt certain, couldn’t wait until all of this was over. He mumbled a few unintelligible words that ended with “forever and ever, amen.” When he finished, I nodded to the two men to start lowering the casket on its final descent. All went well until halfway down one of the straps suddenly snapped, and with a thud Olie dropped headlong into the place of his eternal rest. The canvas strap had rotted and now the casket was jammed at an awkward angle in the grave. Fortunately there was a tow-rope in the pick-up. I leaned over and balanced myself with one foot on the tilted casket and managed to pass the rope under it. Then with everyone’s cooperation and strength, we managed to level the casket and properly lower Olaf into his grave. Although happy may not be the right word, all of us were pleased to have this behind us. Before leaving, Captain Duffy suggested we go to the new hotel on the beach owned by a Belgian couple. Now with the money already set aside by the company for this occasion, the mood quickly changed from one of mourning to a celebration of Olaf’s life.”

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Author:Captain Hank Bracker, "Seawater Two...."
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“Brave Empath, it's so important to embrace your gifts. Not just so that you can use your full potential. Also to avoid wasting time.”

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Book:The Empowered Empath — Quick & Easy: Owning, Embracing, and Managing Your Special Gifts (An Empath Empowerment® Book)
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“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.”

Sea StoriesMma Captain Hank BrackerMan Overboard
Author:Captain Hank Bracker, "Seawater Two...."
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“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!”

ShipsSea StoriesWest AfricaMma Captain Hank BrackerMonrovia
Author:Captain Hank Bracker, "Seawater Two...."
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“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.”

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Author:Hank Bracker
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“The next morning having we had the Continental Breakfast with French croissants and the usual strong Turkish coffee. Mia seemed strangely distant from me now sat next to Aleixo who had come to join us. I had a KLM flight to catch that afternoon and there was little left to say. Later Mia came with me to the row of taxies and told the driver in Portuguese to take me to the airport. As I got into the cab her last words to me were a mocking “Poor boy, poor, poor boy…” My place is here with Aleixo, but I was yours for a lovely day.”

PortugalMma Captain Hank BrackerSeastoriesLisbon
Author:Hank Bracker
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