Hi Jim, I sent the picture of Doodlebugger patch that is on the Links page. I worked for Western Geophysical in the early 80's as a Navigator on board The Western Inlet, The Western Passage and briefly, the Anne Bravo. Western doesn't have a website or archives of our trips or people that I know of at this time, so I thought I'd share a story with GSI Alumni about one trip in particular. I apologize for the lack of names and I might not have all the details exact. I can't remember a couple of the names and figured they wouldn't want the be implicated in any "crimes" anyhow. However, I assure you this story will hold scrutiny with all participants. This happened around 1981.

The $25,000 Walrus

The Anne Bravo was shooting a speculative survey in the Chukchi Sea just about the time the walrus migration was taking place. I always thought the event was one of the most entertaining things about working in the Alaskan waters. They travel in bunches of cows minded by one, or sometimes two, big bulls. As the boat passes the group the bull will belly up at the great intruder and show his tusks as a warning (I suppose). The tusks were sometimes 3 feet long and as big around as a mans arm. One afternoon, which at that time of the year is all day, the Anne Bravo was pulling it's 2 mile long streamer on a very long spec line. Now, everybody on the marine side of Doodlebugging knows right away what a 'circle' is. A break down of equipment, an unexpected shut down of a tape drive, computer crash, obstacles, or any malfunction that causes production to be interrupted. This means the boat has to be turned on a 2 mile radius and go back at least two-four miles to get a straight start at the point of shut down and overlap to insure full coverage.

The whole process, I've been told, would cost the company in excess of $25,000 by the time all the factors were thrown in to the mix such as time lost ,wear-and-tear on all components and various other factors. At any rate, when a circle was called, the tension felt throughout the vessel was chilling. When a spec line is ongoing and the speed is constant with a shotpoint every 5-6 seconds, the crew gets used to the 3000 cubes of air being released per shot point and having the entire boat shake and vibrate with each explosion. It's a noise that disappears after a few hours, that is until it stops...unscheduled. It is like a giant hole in the air and everybody who is off-shift looks around at one another and cringes. Somebody will always mutter the word that everyone is thinking...CIRCLE! Some will run to the deck or recording room to nose around and see what's up.

That said, the Anne Bravo was tooling along on a flawless shoot when the coordinator was standing in the pilothouse with binoculars in hand checking out the conditions and looking for wayward icefloes. Basically goofing around and getting in the way. He spotted a dark mass bobbing in the water just ahead. At first he thought it was an Eskimo's boat, maybe upside down or piled up with seal pelts.

On closer examination he realized it was a dead bull walrus. He could see the tusks sticking high in the air like eerie organic masts. They were huge and they were beautiful. He set down the glasses and paced back and forth a few times mumbling something about not being able to reach it even with a long gaff and justifying a debris removal exercise. He made a quick call to the recording room and asked if they were experiencing problems. After assuring the seismic crew that they were experiencing problems and the problems were insurmountable, he gave the order that everybody in the pilothouse was anticipating.

He said to the 1st mate on duty, "I think we better circle so they can get their malfunction repaired. A deck hand had already gone after a gaff hook and was standing at the starboard beam ready to retrieve the 'malfunction'. They knew him very well. Within seconds after the guns stopped, the deck was awash with Doodlebuggers looking for the reason for the stoppage. How news traveled so fast is still a mystery, but everybody was on deck for the event even guys that came out of their bunk for it. After veering 1000 yards off line, oops, I mean after they commenced a starboard circle, they hooked the beast and dragged it aside the hull until they could figure out what the heck to do with it. It weighed several million pounds give or take a ton or two, so it didn't take a very careful assessment to determine that there was no way to get it on board as a total walrus unit. The end result is they hooked the carcass so that the head could be cut away from the large, blubberous body. After that it was easily raised and production was able to resume.

I haven't been on board the Anne Bravo since 1984, at that time the tusks had been displayed in the dayroom for 3 or 4 years still attached to the head. They cleaned it, sealed it and then mounted it on a stained and varnished plank. It was their biggest prize and a legend around the fleet. Except for a few pried-out teeth, it was in great shape. I wonder where the $25,000 walrus is today?