Cover Story

‘Stingray’ crew quietly protects Mobile’s waterways from danger

By Peter Teske

Lagniappe staff

The familiar trip through downtown Mobile often times begins with the usual major veins and arteries. Dauphin, Government and Spring Hill will all lead you into the heart of the city, showcasing the new RSA Tower, the old-but-newly renovated Battle House, a copious amount of bars and all the other small shops and restaurants that make Mobile funky and unique. I’m guessing most of you could probably drive down these streets in reverse if you had to, assuming there aren’t any DUI check points, of course.

Anyway, Mobile’s funkiness hides its business hub pretty well. While Royal Street provides a quick look, you’re missing the bigger picture from that vantage point. To better understand what drives Mobile commerce, you’ve got to see our city from a boat on the Mobile River.

The boat that opened my eyes to this monetary microcosm isn’t your typical pleasure craft. Not even close. In fact the Coast Guard might be insulted at that comparison. The 80-plus feet of the Stingray and its crew operate in a machine-like manner – nothing less is expected of them, and part of this morning’s lesson is that exact level of precision.

Before ever setting foot on the Stingray, I’m watching what appears to be the most indecisive group of people in Mobile. Everyone is compulsively walking back and forth with seemingly no premeditated agenda. The whole crew seems confused an unorganized, but it turns out I’m completely wrong in my observations. It takes me a good half hour to realize their actions are calculated to be pretty damn precise within the parameters they are given.

The Launch

By the time we board the boat, it’s a typical, muggy Mobile summer morning. High 80s, sunny and humid, most of which will be announced in a meeting on the bridge soon, but since I’m breathing and would testify under oath that my cognitive skills are slightly above average, I kind of noticed this stuff before it was announced.

The skies are blue, spotted with the occasional cloud or two, and the water is a calm greenish-brown. The hum of the boat’s two muscular diesel engines, while muted by serious amounts of sheet metal and skid-proof decking, is loud enough to make me wonder if my voice recorder will be able pick up anything but the drone. A curious “Check, Check” and I find I’ve got nothing to worry about. I’ll be putting my pen and pad away now. You must love technology.

As we leave the dock at Brookley Field, the story of this vessel begins to unravel as the needle measuring knots rises. This boat, and the people working aboard are among other things, ensuring the safety of Mobile’s most important business sector. The Alabama State Docks pulled in almost $110 million in revenue last year, according to its Web site. These Coast Guard guys and gals are sort of like a group of security guards in front of Mobile’s own little version of the New York Stock Exchange. However, this job seems to be a whole lot more interesting than patrolling a concrete jungle in an over-populated city.

I quickly find the head honcho of the boat, Capt. Marlon Sadler, to be surprisingly approachable. He’s also undoubtedly qualified, and exactly the person you would want serving this particular post.

“I went to Officer Candidate School. You go through a lot of navigation rules and nautical science. You drive t-boats around, you do a little law stuff and 90 percent of your time you deal with personnel issues,” explained Sadler.

That might explain why he’s so personable despite his intimidating stature.

Sadler didn’t miss a beat in his time at OCS and it’s profoundly obvious standing next to the captain in the Stingray’s bridge. This guy has the potential to be in total control of any situation no matter how extreme, kind of like the Godfather without the whole organized crime thing. Upon first introduction he might remind many of a Peyton Manning type, as he is clever and decisive. He works through his own playbook, and at the same time he’s still able to give others his undivided attention. Peers might label Sadler a “detail oriented” individual.

When we launch from the dock Sadler is the only person on the bridge not bracing himself for any sudden jolts. Confidently balanced is the man in command – sort of a comforting trait in the eyes of crew and passengers alike.

Scenery: Floating Dollar

Soon after launching, we find ourselves trolling past a pretty loaded yacht in the State Docks. That’s when I realize, Sadler, while appearing to be all business, still thoroughly enjoys what he’s doing with a childlike enthusiasm. He glances over at what I’m sure is the manifestation of some guy’s mid-life crisis and, for a split second, the captain gives the man-yacht his approval. “NICE,” says Sadler. Another member of the crew jokingly asks, “Can we trade?”

Now, the S.S. Mid-Life Crisis may or may not have an on-board chef, so for argument’s sake lets say it does. Well, then if that’s true, the Stingray unquestionably has the equivalent, if not better. The cook on board is making chicken cordon bleu tonight and I actually just eyed up a couple bacon, egg and cheese biscuits that looked pretty tasty. She’s doing it all in a pretty fancy stainless steel galley too! Anyway, not to overstep my boundaries, but I’m also guessing the crew of the Stingray is earning a paycheck as opposed to signing away a pretty sizable chunk of change every month for yacht maintenance. Still care to make that trade?

The overcompensation dinghy is quickly dwarfed by the Independence, a 417-foot littoral combat ship docked directly outside of Austal USA’s shipbuilding facilities. The thing is so futuristic looking its scary. Now there’s a worthy trade!

Captain Sadler quickly asks a poignant question, “That ship says two,” acknowledging the number on the side of the bow which indicates its order in the fleet. “Where’s number one?” he asks curiously. Everyone else is still drooling at the 2,500-ton trimaran-hulled design that’s capable of more than 40 knots. The guy is detail oriented, no doubt.

By the way, turns out number one, LCS Freedom, was built by Lockheed Martin at a shipyard in Wisconsin and now resides in San Diego at one of the Navy’s several institutions in Southern California.

The Austal ship signifies millions, possibly billions of dollars that have, and will continue to flow through our local economy as a result of big-time military contracts. Mobile has put itself in a position to build a solid future in this port, and this ship is one of many milestones likely to be acknowledged as significant years from now.

The Importance of the Coast Guard and Smaller Maritime Businesses

Seacor Sherman is only a minute or two down river from the Independence and is significant in its own right. Many of you might remember this ship as the reluctant star of the Bender Shipyard fire that took place earlier this summer. Where the Independence is battleship gray and floating proof of the major industry that cruises in and out of the tenth largest port in the country, today, the Bender ship’s charred gray facade marks one of the many reasons the Stingray and her crew are so valuable to the City of Mobile.

If Independence caught fire, that would have made national news and the Coast Guard would have unquestionably played a key role in extinguishing said fictional fire, but that doesn’t mean anyone in Mobile is undermining the importance of Bender’s Shipbuilding facility or any of the other smaller shipyards at the State Docks. These smaller outfits are the building blocks that are helping to bring Austal-sized businesses to the region. In fact, the Independence might still be dry-docked if Austal hadn’t had access to Bender’s floating dry dock. Bender’s machinery was on loan to Austal at the ship’s christening, according to an article from al.com.

Getting back to my point, the Coast Guard didn’t check Bender’s annual revenue or any tax records before going to help when Seacor Sherman went ablaze. They just responded by doing what they were supposed to do.

While Sadler wasn’t on duty at the time of the fire, he was quick to point out that his Coast Guard brethren were able to immediately provide back up fire retardant foam as it was needed. That’s a nice heads up response if you’re the Fire Department or Bender. Every business in our port, regardless of its size, is cared for equally. After all, Mobile won’t be growing without the likes of big business like Austal and the big business relies on these smaller players quite a bit.

Headed Aft

On the business end of the Stingray, one of Capt. Sadler’s crew, a 20-something whose been in the engine room all morning is offering me a tour of his office. I’d tell you his name but the damn engines are too loud at this point.

Note to self: Don’t ever ditch the pen and paper. Technology will most likely fail you at least once a day.

Just two doorways and a set of sound-deadening earmuffs away and I find myself in a world full of painted metal and the well-contained fires that keep the Stingray moving. It’s noticeably warmer in here than upstairs on the deck, even when you consider the fact that it’s now close to mid-day, in the direct sun, in summer, in Mobile.

The cause of all this heat is two almost econ-o-car-sized diesel engines, each respectively paired with two turbines the size of a bag of money. This is unquestionably the heart of the Stingray and what’s allowed me to see the dollar signs in and around the Mobile River. These enamel white behemoths will pump through 2,660 gallons of fuel before returning to dock, maybe more, and they will do so in their diamond-plated, wire-strung, deafening confines. My tour guide tries telling me more about the specs of these muscular hunks of metal, but I can’t hear a word he’s saying. Even with the earmuffs, these things are loud and it’s hotter than blazes. Time to evacuate.

Parting Ways

I thought I was just getting the hell out of that steamy engine room when I realize we’re back to where we started, at the mouth of Brookley’s Coast Guard dock. These guys want to get out into the mix and my photographer buddy and I are akin to dead weight at this point.

Once we’ve made our way back through two doorways and completed the proper hike up an almost vertical set of stairs, our water taxi awaits us. Adorned with helmets and a life vest, it’s time to part ways. I’ll be heading back to shore and the crew of the Stingray will venture out into the Gulf to see that our waterway, our cash cow, is operating safely.

It’s probable that Sadler and his crew will be boarding commercial vessels in and around the Gulf to make sure everything equipment related is up to par. There’s also a chance of some citations being handed out to commercial fishing outfits for ignoring seasonal regulations in search quick financial gain. Sadler says this happens more frequently than one would think. But after the routine stuff is all taken care of, there is little doubt that the mere presence of the Stingray will improve the port’s ability to attract newer and larger revenue streams.

A quick salute from Captain Sadler, a couple circles around the boat, and like they’re wearing pinstripes and ties, it’s back to business for the crew of the Stingray.

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