When the crab fishing vessel blew up, Frederik realised he knew his job
By Hanne Baltzer
It was an ordinary 15 December 2020 on board the SOV vessel ESVAGT NJORD, which services offshore wind farms on a daily basis. On board, Frederik Oksholm was on watch from 5am until lunch at 11am. At around 11.30am, he heard a huge bang while he was vacuuming in the reception area. He thought it was something at the hatch. It wasn't.
It was busy on the bridge, where the helmsman had his binoculars trained on a British crab boat, Galwad-Y-Mor, 22 miles north of Cromer Norfolk in England.
Shortly afterwards, the captain of ESVAGT gave the order: Launch the FRB (fast rescue boat) boats. The big alarm was not yet sounded.
Theory and pressure waves
Frederik was well versed in the details of the long muster list that describes what to do in emergency situations, for example, where you have to be ready for anything. When the lifeboats were launched, the others on board the Esvagt ship started to prepare. But what exactly was going to happen? How many injured crab fishermen would their colleagues come back with? How badly injured were they? Were there any fatalities? Frederik remembers the waiting time as a bit chaotic, while there were many items to find, from oxygen masks to stretchers, bandages and defibrillators. Soon the big alarm was sounded. This was serious.
On the bridge, they had the overview. Even when it tipped over with seven people injured.
Inferno of fire
The casualties were severely injured when a mine had presumably exploded under the fishing boat, causing several explosions and dents in the hull. The crew had noticed that the crab traps were slow to retract, but before they could alert the skipper, everything exploded in an inferno of fire and water that lifted the 13-metre-long vessel out of the water where it subsequently landed heavily. A shockwave had blown out the crew and the wheelhouse.
"They were badly injured, some were in shock, others unconscious, there was a lot of blood, vomit, wounds, moans and screams. It was violent and made a deep impression on me, but I tried to stay focused. In order not to go down myself, I tried to put my emotions aside. Tried to help my more experienced colleagues. This was a state of emergency. Afterwards, I broke down. I was new, it was only my third deployment and I just wanted to go home for Christmas," says Frederik.
Force with first aid
The fact that seafarers have advanced first aid training and captains and mates have AMA (Advanced Medical Aid) became crucial in this situation. The crew aboard the rescue ship knew their trade. The first mate was in charge of the casualties, while the captain coordinated from the bridge. Frederik tried to remember everything he had learnt in the theory room.
”Jeg fandt ud af, at det er bedre at gøre noget frem for at gøre ingenting, selv om jeg var ny. Jeg vidste da også, hvad min rolle ville være, men jeg havde ikke kunnet forberede mig til virkelighedens voldsomhed. I de fire timer, der gik, mens de sårede var ombord, arbejdede vi intenst med det udstyr, der var. Vi hentede fx også tæpper fra vores kamre. Da den sidste af de sårede var hentet, var jeg nærmest grædefærdig. Det hjalp at tale med kollegerne, der også havde været der. Tre krabbefiskere var så hårdt medtagne, at de måtte evakueres med helikopter. Derfor var det også en lettelse at høre efterfølgende, at alle syv fiskere overlevede, selv om nogle fik mén. ”
Tomato soup and reflection
Once the last of the casualties had been sent on their way, they were hungry and lunch of tomato soup and roast culottes was served to everyone. The crew then gathered on the bridge, where everyone could tell what they had experienced, what had happened. How they felt.
"Everyone was very quiet and thoughtful. There were different reactions and there was room for recognition and pride. Esvagt supplemented by offering psychological counselling and decided that everyone should talk to the psychologist for at least five minutes. For the more experienced rescuers, five minutes was enough. I was still overwhelmed by emotions that were just below the surface, so it was good for me to get assistance to move on. Because did I do it right? Was I preventing the others from doing their job? After all, it was my very first rescue mission."
During the rescue operation, Frederik saw how everyone worked intensely: "All we thought about was saving lives. We worked really well together, and afterwards it gave us a good spirit. I thought I was more empathetic, but it was necessary to joke around with the sadness. There's something to be said for black humour. I also remember the fish skipper asking for a cigarette as the first thing before we almost started treating him, and while his crew were given lots of painkillers to calm them down. That was something special."
Open mindset
Since the big rescue operation, most days have been calm. Frederik is now a certified ship's assistant and has been offered a new job with Esvagt, which he has accepted.
"Maybe I'm an everyday Samaritan," he says with a twinkle in his eye: "My experience now is that there is a big difference between us in the crew, but that we each bring our own experience to the table when we have to perform, and that it's safe to talk through situations with colleagues afterwards. We take care of each other. After the violent incident with the fishermen, I have thought several times that my colleagues took care of me. I've also been a bit on edge and on alert in the time afterwards and I'm probably still in shock, but when I put the theory from school into practice on board with an open mindset, it's a good everyday life. An office job is not me," says Frederik, who often receives positive feedback.
I box
Esvagt Njord is a Service Operation Vessel (SOV) servicing the Norwegian energy company Equinor in the operation of the wind farm off Great Yarmouth on the east coast of England. On that December day in 2020, the crew came to the rescue of seven badly injured crab fishermen. It saved their lives!
