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A highlight of the trip for Ron was a visit to the Mendenhall Glacier via helicopter.

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The SS Universe Explorer as seen from a tender at one of the ports we visited.

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Passengers in life vests shortly after arriving on lifeboat station.

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The tragic cruise ended at beautiful Auke Bay near Juneau.

REMEMBERING AN ALASKAN 

CRUISE SHIP FIRE, JULY 27, 1996

What are the odds of being aboard a cruise ship that catches fire? Strangely enough, the Coffeys were present during the July 27, 1996 fire on the SS Universe Explorer that claimed five lives and injured 76 people.

We were in the midst of a seven-day cruise from Vancouver to Glacier Bay in southeastern Alaska. Following is an account of the fire and its aftermath that I wrote a few days after returning home.

By Ron Coffey

We're thankful to be alive. Some of the people aboard the SS Universe Explorer didn't make it.

What started out as the vacation of a lifetime turned tragic in the early morning hours of Saturday, July 27, 1996 . We had spent the day exploring Juneau, Alaska and had gone to bed full of anticipation about our upcoming cruise through Glacier Bay. We planned to see numerous glaciers and, with any luck, plenty of whales. It would be the high point of a trip through a beautiful land.

We were awakened at about 3 a.m. by a woman screaming in the hallway near our room. Dianna got up first and smelled smoke. She turned on the light and announced that there was a fire and we had to get out of the room immediately.

Colin and Wade, then aged 16 and 15, were in the room with us. We tried to get dressed quickly. I found some jeans and a long-sleeved shirt. As we left the room I grabbed shoes and socks.

The hallway was quite smoky, and I realized this was no minor fire. Fortunately we were near the stairway. We climbed to the Boat Deck and sought out lifeboat station #4.

The 730 passengers moved in an orderly fashion to their stations. Just a few days before we had practiced this maneuver while the ship was docked at Vancouver. Then, it was an inconvenience mandated by maritime law. As the staff called roll, we stood there in our orange life vests waiting impatiently for the cruise to begin.

Now we were in the midst of a real fife. As we stood there, still somewhat dazed, the roll call began. When some of the cabin numbers were called there was no response. The voices of the cruise ship staffers grew edgy, and the numbers were repeated. Crew members put towels over their mouths and went into the smoky halls to check on the cabins. Despite the commotion and the ship's fire alarm, we heard that one couple had slept through everything. Others became disoriented and had trouble finding the correct lifeboat station.

Smoke poured through an opening in the front of the ship. The smell was like that of an electrical fire, and when the fumes blew in our direction it was hard to breathe. That was somewhat frightening because I knew the smoke could be dangerous. Still, we were in sight of land and close to the lifeboats, and that provided a certain level of comfort.

At about that time an elderly man behind us passed out. We grabbed him so he wouldn't fall to the deck. A woman with nursing skills questioned his wife. Apparently he had been taking sea-sickness medication and just needed to lie down for awhile. A blanket and a "pillow" of life jackets were provided, and he rested comfortably.

Occasionally crew members would run past us with oxygen tanks and other firefighting paraphernalia. We realized that it really is important to provide a path for the crew.

Gradually the smoke subsided as we continued to wait and wonder. We watched the sun rise and saw the silhouettes of the mountains return to color. It was like watching the changing shadows at the Grand Canyon.

We felt a great sense of relief when we saw another cruise ship, the Sky Princess, standing by to assist if necessary. Soon the U.S. Coast Guard arrived and there were cheers from the passengers.

Some passengers were dressed in bedclothes, or they had grabbed shorts and short-sleeved shirts insufficient to endure the cool morning air. The crew distributed blankets to anyone needing them, and announced that the ship would be turning so that we might have some sunlight to warm us. There was nowhere to sit unless one had a medical problem, and after a few hours we became quite tired. Those needing a bathroom had to utilize a bucket as crew members held up a blanket for privacy.

We passed the time by speculating about the future of the cruise and making jokes about nearly everything. I tried to convince myself that this was merely an inconvenience, that everyone was safe. The ship's staff did not give out much information, although an occasional announcement came over the public address system urging us to remain calm and to keep the pathways open for the crew.

We had made some new friends on the cruise, including two brothers from Texas, "Happy" and Steve, who came with their wives and their mother. We shared in some fun experiences with them, from playing basketball on the top deck to having a guitar-and-fiddle jam session in one of their rooms.

Tamie, one of the wives, came up to me and whispered that at least three people had died in the fire. I didn't know how she picked up this information, but I realized it was possible. She didn't want to create a panic, but felt the need to share information with someone.

Tamie and her husband, Steve, had been trapped briefly inside the ship when some steel doors were closed to prevent the fire from spreading. I can imagine how Steve and Tamie felt when they came to the locked doors.

They were able to call Steve's brother, who got in touch with the crew, and the doors were opened so they could escape to the outer deck.

A lady from the cruise staff was in charge of our lifeboat station. I watched as she whispered to one of the Panamanian crew members. When his eyes began to fill with tears, I knew something tragic had happened.

The crew came around with bread, milk and water for anyone who wanted it. This seemed a strange meal for passengers accustomed to gluttony at sea, but it tasted remarkably good.

After three hours of standing on deck we were told that we could go inside to a public lounge area and sit down. This was a great relief. I took a brief nap, and we even got to revisit our rooms briefly. This time we had the presence of mind to take anything that was really important to us, like passports, travelers cheques, camera and film – in case we never saw our luggage again.

A short time later we were ordered back to the lifeboat stations. We learned later that the fire had restarted, and firemen had to battle for an hour to put it out again.

The ship was operational, and after a while we had headed south towards Juneau. We guessed that the cruise would end soon. At a place called Auke Bay it became official: we would disembark on smaller vessels and be transported to Juneau. While we waited we had the privilege of relaxing on the back of the ship with a great view of the bay. Fresh fruit and soft drinks were served, the sun was shining and the mood was much more relaxed.

Steve pored over a map of Juneau and speculated that we would be staying at the convention center. There was still no official announcement about casualties of the fire, but the unofficial passenger intelligence network estimated the death toll at five or six.

We set foot on land at 2:15 p.m. and were greeted by reporters and curious onlookers. A bus took us to the convention center in Juneau, where a policeman checked our names.

Inside, I couldn't believe the reception that awaited us. Volunteers from the Juneau area had prepared a delicious snack for nearly 800 that consisted of sandwiches, chips, soft drinks and the biggest, most delicious chocolate-chip muffins I've ever tasted. Six telephones in two rooms were set aside for the use of the passengers to call home – at no charge! (Remember, in 1996 cell phones were either still on the drawing board or only for the very wealthy.) Movies were shown in one of the meeting rooms. We watched "Grumpier Old Men" and "Father of the Bride 2." The Alaska State Museum opened its doors to us. Although we were extremely tired, Dianna and I wandered through the museum and were impressed. Colin and Wade started with us, but soon sat down and fell asleep.

Back in the convention center, a team of Juneau officials and cruise ship staffers prepared for our trans­portation to Seattle. Four flights were chartered, and shuttle buses were scheduled. The ship's staff members were as tired as we were, but continued to help passengers while enduring stoically as people sometimes vented their frustrations.

While we waited, the Juneau volunteers prepared a delicious hot meal and kept our spirits up. The beauty of Juneau – which includes clean streets, lovely shops, flower boxes throughout the downtown area and a dramatic backdrop of mountains – is matched only by the spirit of the citizens. I hope we can return there someday, because the people really connected with us in our time of trouble.

We left Juneau after midnight and flew to Seattle. The cruise line put us up at various hotels. We stayed at the Marriott. I made several phone calls to arrange for a flight to Columbus, then joined my family in bed. I don't think I have ever been so tired. One memory that stands out for us is that when we finally got to take a shower, the water seemed to release the smoky fire smell from our hair and triggered the same feelings of fear and confusion that we experienced on the ship.

We spent all the next day in the hotel. Normally I would have wanted to explore Seattle, but our days and nights were turned around. We read the local newspaper with great interest. The story about the fire reported five dead and 76 injured, including 63 crew members and 13 passengers. The rumors among the tourists had become grim statistics.

We caught a 10:40 p.m. flight to Detroit, changing time zones as we headed east. We arrived in Columbus at about 8:30 a.m. Ohio time, and got back to Greenfield around 10 a.m. Monday with suitcases full of smoky clothing.

Many people who heard about the fire soon inquired about our safety, and we appreciated the concern and prayers of our family and friends.

We still believe that cruising is a safe and wonderful way to travel. All travel contains an element of risk, but airline and cruise ship disasters get headlines in the press because they are so rare. In my opinion, driving a car presents a greater risk.

The crew of the Universe Explorer was courageous in looking after the safety of passengers, and our thoughts and prayers went out to the victims and their families. Ten years after, we are thankful to be alive, and will always remember the beauty of Alaska, the heroic efforts of crew members of the SS Universe Explorer and the kindness of the Good Samaritans of Juneau.

 

Postscript: The National Transportation Safety Board investigated the fire and produced an 84-page report that can be viewed at the following link: http://www.ntsb.gov/Publictn/1998/MAR9802.pdf