#rescue at sea

[ltwilliammowett]

From the middle of the 19th century, the first rescue men went out to sea in simple row boats to rescue people from distress at sea.

© DGzRS / Die Seenotretter, Photo: DGzRS

Usually, horses first pull the boat from the shed through the dune sand to the beach, often hundreds of metres away, then the six to ten men row out through the dangerous surf with extreme physical exertion. They wear oilskins with a south-facing waistcoat to protect them from the cold sea water. A thick cork waistcoat strapped around the upper body is intended to protect against drowning. The specially developed ‘German standard lifeboat’ measures eight metres long and two and a half metres wide. It is made of sheet steel and weighs just 1,350 kilograms. With a draught of 35 centimetres, it is also suitable for shallow beach areas.

A mission can last many hours. In November 1880, for example, the rescue workers from Süderhöft in North Friesland rowed out to a stranded sailing ship in a thunderstorm. They return after 14 hours. The mission report notes: ‘We only arrived back at the station at 4 o'clock in the afternoon, completely frozen and exhausted.’

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

Sailing boat rescued by the Götheborg

03 May 2023

Imagine losing your rudder out at sea and sending out a distress call. And then the largest ocean-going wooden sailing ship in the world comes to your rescue. Or in the words of the sailors on the sailing boat: "This moment was very strange, and we wondered if we were dreaming. Where were we? What time period was it?"

This all happened off the coast of France last week. To our knowledge it is the first time that an east indiaman, and the first time for Götheborg, to engage in such a rescue. Now we also have the images and story from the sailing vessel that was rescued. 

[el-ffej]

I need everyone to know that the ship Götheborg, the world's largest ocean-going wooden sailing ship, answered a distress call the other day.

Imagine waiting for the coast guard or whatever to show up and instead a replica of 18th century merchant ship pulls up and tows you to the coast.

[illustratus]

Life Saving Patrol by Edward Moran

[rmsqueenmaryonthisday]

Mayday

On July 17, 1957, the RMS Queen Mary changed course east of Montauk Point to go to the rescue of four sailors injured by an explosion that killed three on a Navy escort patrol craft. Among those watching the rescue were United States Attorney General Herbert Brownell and three supreme court justices, all on their way to England for a U.S.-British bar session in London. Source: New York Times

[montereybayaquarium]

We have some otterly exciting news!

We're expanding our sea otter surrogacy efforts by opening a new sea otter rehabilitation facility. 🦦

The facility will feature two new sea otter pools and two ICU enclosures, allowing us to care for up to 10 rescued sea otters at a time. 

This expansion will help us continue our ongoing recovery of this threatened species, nurturing them back to health, and releasing them back into the wild. Our Sea Otter Program will continue to support the recovery of the wild sea otter population found along the California coast. 

Stay tuned for updates on when this facility will be completed. To read more about the history of our sea otter surrogacy program, visit the link here: https://mbayaq.co/4evZLGA

[thatpunnyperson]

According to NBC here in the US, the missing titanic sub has been found. As debris. Off the bow of the Titanic wreckage.

And it looks like the sub suffered what we all suspected, and what was undoubtedly the more merciful of the two options: a catastrophic implosion from the pressure.

Also, more info has come to light about the fishing trawler with the hundreds of migrants that sank cataclysmically off the coast of Greece, indicating that the greek coast guard knew about the vessel AND how much trouble the vessel was in, and were towing it at a speed that made it capsize, at which point they unhooked the tow line and watched the trawler sink without helping the passengers to safety. Despite a bunch of other ships trying to help as well throughout the whole ordeal.

So a lot of people are dead, all because of regulations (and the lack thereof) regarding sea-faring vessels and rescue protocols. People shouldnt be allowed to make a business charging a ton of money for a ride on an uncertified, unsafe, un-seaworthy ship going deep into the ocean with no distress beacon or tether to the mothership. People also shouldnt be allowed to enact laws that criminalize the ferrying of refugees, which then force the refugees to hitch rides on fishing trawlers, and which also prevent people from helping those fishing trawlers full of refugees due to fear of legal consequences.

Hopefully BOTH of these events spark changes on an international scale in terms of what is legally allowed to be sailed, who is legally allowed to be the passengers, and what the rescue protocols are in the event of disaster for any seafaring vessel, illegal or not. It shouldnt be just the global 1% who get 24/7 search parties and remote-operated submersibles helping rescue them.

[aquariumpacific]

A little holiday chaos is in otter 🎄❄️

[ey3bags]

[juniper-clan]

Moon 14: Birth of Venus

(AKA the twins!)

PREVIOUS l NEXT

[aloneinthedark-eagle]

Bread fight in the ocean 💦 🚢💦

[ltwilliammowett]

Dramatic marine scene under dark skies, by Admiral Rochard Brydges Beechey (1808-1895)

[le-chevalier-au-lion]

the maid of amsterdam: dovquez [g]

@dovquezdecember + charcoal

The mermaid in the fish tank has a perfectly pleasant expression despite it being a remarkably shitty fish tank—except for his eyes, charcoal black and charcoal dull, huge, unblinking.

A shark’s eyes. And a shark isn't trying to be malicious when it bites, it just wants to figure out if you’re food.

Andrea swallows. “Ah, good afternoon. You’re Marc, right?”

Marc, estimated to be 11 ft long, still unweighted as all approach attempts have culminated in conflict, found off the coast of Castelldefels by Rossi and his crew God knows when and God knows why.

The mermaids nods once. He appraises Andrea cooly, with the artful boredom of executives and government officials when presented with his research pitches. It should go into his notes—enough understanding of human interaction to regulate emotional response.

Christ, alright. Very comforting.

“I’m Andrea Dovizioso,” he says. The next words stick to his throat like algae—does a mermaid know the ISPRA? Should he explain it? Tell him he’s a protected species these days?

Andrea sighs, rubbing his face. The mermaid—Marc—raises his eyebrows, snorts, bubbles spilling from his pink, almost harmless mouth. He has to reckon with the fact that he’s being made fun of by a creature he isn’t sure knows anything about comedic timing.

Typical Valentino—making trouble and shoving them on his hands.

“I’m here to help you,” is what he settles on.

Marc’s tail swishes, an odd jolt of movement. It’s too cramped in his tank for it to wave and ripple, so it ends up trapped tight against the glass, its tip dangling out. Like this, Andrea can see his scales, pearly white and orange, over five feet of them. They’ve grown dull, loose in some spots.

He smooths out a frown before it can carve itself on his face, chews on the insides of his cheeks instead. Is Marc sick?

But he manages to surge up anyway, until his torso is out and his tail is in. His gills flutter, and he finally, finally blinks.

“You are.”

Marc speaks in clumps, the syllables strained—like he’s reading out words in a language he doesn’t recognize. It isn’t a question, not quite, but he tilts his head to the side, exaggerated, too low, expectant. His overgrown curls flopping over his forehead are disarming.

Andrea taps his fingers against his thigh, one-two-three, one-two-three, one-two-three. Marc keeps staring at him with those eyes, bottomless, flinty. The stark letters of his files flash black in his mind—ambush hunter, mesocarnivore. Opportunistic, clever, cruel, whatever else Valentino wrote on him.

“Yes, we’re trying to get you back home,” he speaks carefully, slowly. Marc mouths along the words, frowns. “Not now, but soon. I hope.”

“Soon,” Marc echoes.

His mouth wobbles, and his whole expression spasms. It isn’t a flinch, goes over quicker than one. Andrea spots the misery in the sudden weight on his shoulders, how he hunches over himself. Still, he can’t get a hand around it. Marc’s expression becomes smooth like sea glass again—remarkably, immaculately empty. It might as well not have happened.

The humanity of that face—the sudden wide-eyed hope—settles on his stomach like lead. Makes Andrea feel like he should be back on ethics classes, bent over a Philosophy book.

It makes him way too aware of how many generations of species ago humans abandoned the sea.

Andrea huffs. Makes himself focus on the problem at hand—the small security tank, and the wildlife trafficking charges Valentino will face, and the reputation of his new charge.

“Are you going to try and bite my arm off?” He raises a single, pointed eyebrow. Marc shrugs, opaque. “Break my legs? Drown me?”

Only Valentino could get close to him—his pool, or his tank. Only Valentino, until one day Marc wrapped his tail around his waist and dragged him under. It took four minutes and thirty-two seconds for people to wrench him from that hold. Wet, incoherent, trying to cough out his lungs.

Andrea saw the video. They were talking before, Valentino very close to the pool’s edge, Marc swishing and almost writhing, kicking up waves. The pixelated security cams couldn’t get more than that, and the blur of white and orange that followed.

Marc makes a face at him. Then said tail snaps up.

Andrea watches its lazy arc in fucking disbelief and doesn’t even flinch when something hits his shoes. The water is lukewarm, thick with brine. His socks are drenched.

He’ll have to do laundry again tonight. Great.

“Right,” he deadpans, “it’ll be nice working with you.”

Marc smiles—tries to, at least. Andrea isn’t sure if he can or wants to or knows how to. It’s more a show of teeth than sincere, each of them white and wicked. If he pushed, he could cut his fingers on their fine points.

“I wanted to get your face.”

[keywestwildlifecenter]

Eight hatchling Loggerhead Sea Turtles rescued late last night after becoming disorientated at the Pier House. The Loggerheads are being transferred to Save A Turtle of the Florida Keys this morning for release after they are evaluated. www.keywestwildlifecenter.org

[just-someone-online]

Lowkey, I think one of my favorite little things about Rescue Bots is how we get to learn a little more about Optimus when he shows up. Like, not war stuff or Orion Pax stuff, but just little things about Optimus.

One of his favorite Earth stories is The Little Engine That Could. Does he read in his spare time and if so, how did he find Little Engine?

He tells Heatwave that he has also been learning from humans. What has he learned? The phrase "Nothing much, double dutch." Who the fuck taught him that? My money's on Miko. Jack would not have the audacity to add that to Prime's vernacular.

He has a motherfuckin' rocket powered car carrier capable of hauling four bots. And since Team Prime had four four-wheelers on the team prior to Darkness Rising, you could reasonably assume that he has used it with Cliff, Bee, Bulk, and Ratch

Optimus knows what a pogo stick is. That isn't anything noteworthy, I just think it's funny.

[artemlegere]

Ruggiero Rescuing Angelica

Artist: Jean-Auguste-Dominique Ingres (French, 1780–1867)

Date: 1819

Medium: Oil on canvas

Collection: Louvre Museum, Paris, France

Description

Orlando Furioso, a 16th-century epic poem by Ariosto, is the source of the tale of Roger, a knight whose steed is a hippogriff (a legendary creature half horse and half eagle). While riding near Brittany's coast Roger espies a beautiful woman, Angelica, chained to a rock on the Isle of Tears. She has been abducted and stripped naked by barbarians who have left her there as a human sacrifice to a sea monster. As Roger rides to her aid, a great thrashing in the water occurs - it is the monster approaching Angelica. Roger drives his lance between the monster's eyes and rescues Angelica.