Grim story

[PM2K]

Found this while random surfing. Posted on a site hubpages.com. Supposed to be a true account told to a world traveller.

Alaskan Mud Bog Kills Mother Going For Milk
The captain warned us about the mud bogs. "If you are going to go off board while we are waiting for the tide to come back in be careful of the mud bogs!"

We had only been out of the small port of Egigek, Alaska for forty minutes when the sea water disappeared with the outgoing tide. When the water level had dropped to the point that the hull of our floating processor began to scrape bottom, the engine giving energy to the propeller was shut down. The sea water drained so quickly from around our ship it was as though the Red Sea had opened to permit passage of the disciples of God in their bid to escape the onslaught of the Roman soldiers. The captain of our hundred fifty foot long vessel said we would be stuck here for at least four hours until the tide came back in.

I asked the captain what the danger of the mud bogs was. Having time on his hands until the tide came back in enough to re-float our ship, the captain warned the crew about the mud bogs. "Listen up you all!" referring to all hands on board. "We are going to be stuck here for at least four hours until the tide comes back in. Now, I am not going to tell any of you that you can not get off the ship while we are stuck here, but let me tell you this..."

The captain sauntered back and forth on the wood deck of the ship while his eyes cast down to the muddy sea bottom then out to the distant horizon, the shoreline over a mile away. Then he addressed the crew with a tone of concern in his voice.

"Look down. See those pools of water surrounded by mud?" There were thousands of them from ship to shore. "Step into one of those and you could lose your life. Even more dangerous are those indentations without any water in them. Those mud bogs, empty or full of water, have been the doom of more than one person while traveling at sea in Alaska."

The crew, most of whom were first timers at sea in Alaska, now had their eyes and ears clearly locked onto the captain. Their attention was rapt.

The captain went on to recite a true story how a mother caught in the same situation as we were now ventured off the boat she was on in a Herculean burst in an effort to walk to shore through the bogs to get milk for her baby at a village nearly a mile away.

The captain, about age sixty with furrowed eyebrows and a neatly trimmed beard started. "The woman's child was beyond crying for food, she was long without milk of her own to feed her baby and had forgotten her milk supplies at port." A razor sharp wind picked up and the deep gray sky gave the bogs that now surrounded us an ominous appearance. "Death traps," I thought.

Nervously pacing the deck, the captain said, "She could not wait the six hours until the tide returned to float the boat she was on. So, she made the decision to walk through nearly 5,000 feet of mud bogs to get to the shoreline were there was village with milk available."

As the captain paused to let that sink in, the members of our crew cast their eyes downward into the bogs giving them a new element of respect.

The captain grimaced and said, "The crew watched the mother as she climbed down the ladder from the deck of the boat onto the muddy sea floor below, testing her first touch with the mud with the tip of the toe of her shoe to test its solidity. Fairly solid, she thought, as she allowed her other foot to make first contact with the muddy ocean bottom."

"With increased confidence", the captain said, "she let go of the handholds of the ladder and began a journey from which she would not return."

The captain pulled up the collar of his sea jacket as a crisp, razor cutting sea wind straight out of the Arctic engulfed the attentive crew. "Now listen up you all. The woman only got about three hundred yards out when she began having trouble. The crew aboard her ship yelled at her not to struggle as they poured overboard, down the ladder, into the muddy surface of the ocean floor that trapped them, each man testing each foot step around the bogs."

The captain said, "After the men of her ship had reached her, she was already sucked into the mud bog up to her thighs, too far in and away for any of the men to reach her. Two of the men took off their heavy jackets and shirts to construct a make-shift rope in an effort to pull the woman free from the bog. But to no avail. The woman gripped the make-shift rope with all her fury but her hands and the rope itself had become soaked in mud. Each gripping effort resulted in her hands slipping off the rope and the mud bog sucked her in deeper. The men who who were helping her were now at risk", the captain said. "The struggles of the men had caused them to lose what little sure footing they had as the mud which surrounded them began to suck them in and under, two of the men now up to their knees in mud struggling for freedom."

The woman's struggle was being witnessed by people at the shoreline, inhabitants of the fishing village which had been the woman´s destination. Men of the fishing village could now be seen talking and activity was in the muster. Moments later, two groups of men from the fishing village were running from the shore with ropes and harnesses, then quickly slowing to test the mud bogs which lay between them and the woman who was now fully engulfed in the dark brown mud up to her waist. Tears were streaming down her cheeks as she looked distant-ward back toward her baby safely on board the ship. More crew of her ship were hurdling overboard with ropes and harnesses to help pull the desperate women free. My God she said, "Is it possible I could die here, today, in this desolate place?" Surely she must have thought, "These men can pull me free!"

Within what seemed a short time both groups of men, one from the village and another from the woman's boat, had arrived and began rigging ropes and harnesses to pull the woman free from the mud bog´s death grip. "Pull, heave, pull, pull!!!" one of the men called out to the others as six men ground their feet into mud which refused to stop sucking the men themselves deeper and deeper into the muddy, sucking, thick brown glob. The woman now had mud covering her shoulders. Frantic, she screamed, "Please, please, please dear God please." with her baby looking toward her in the distance.

It was at this point that a silent knowing somber note began to engulf the minds of the would-be rescuers. Momentarily the eyes of the rescuers met those of the woman. The village fisherman who had come to help the woman knew, as some of the long-time members of her boat crew who had come to help. These men all knew the folklore, the stories, many backed up by their own eyewitness accounts. Once sucked in and without the possibility of near immediate extraction, the hope of escaping a low tide sea or bay mud bog was not good. Time was working against them. If there was any chance of pulling the woman free the task must be completed either before the mud engulfed her completely or the tide returned with a rush.

The men, nearing exhaustion, the sounds of the woman´s unrelenting screams, the woman was now beginning to gasp for breath as the mud was nearing the top of her upper lip the bottom of her nose.

The woman´s frantic thrashing resulted in the mud reaching over her nose and just above her eyes. Gulps of mud were followed by oxygen which percolated up through the mud and burst to the surface with the sounds of plop, plop, plop. The men gave one last immense, inhuman like, animal beast like pull of the rope which had been secured by a harness around the woman`s body. All the men slipped on the mud landing on their backs as the rope went slack and the women's head submerged below the mud.

Author's note: This story was told to our crew and me by the Woodbine Alaska ship's captain when we were on our way from a small Indian village fishing port at Egigek, Alaska on our way to Barnett Inlet. I was working on board for the Woodbine Alaska Fish Company at the time.

[bart1997]

.

[PM2K]

I got that impression too... the descriptions were a little too vivid for something supposedly told to others on a casual basis.

But the story itself is pretty cool for those who like grim endings.

[Billie Bonce]

The story is great from the fetish point of view, but not realistic.

The bog is described as if it is able to suck the victim in. I've heard there are air pockets on the mudflats that appear when the water flows away with the outgoing tide. But those pockets suck their victims in very quickly, not like described here.

The actions of the would-be rescuers are also not too smart. All the men were running with the ropes. But nobody had an idea to bring any plank or ladder. They had to approach close to the woman and pull her upwards. It seems, they had enough time.

But the story is really impressive!

[Duncan Edwards]

A sea tale embellished with each retelling as it passed from sailor to sailor. There's some truth in there somewhere but the point is that it keeps the pollywogs on the boat. Has kind of a Victorian ring to the speech and descriptions.