The Typhoon

I remember my last west pac cruise, in the spring and summer of '64.  We were headed for Hong Kong, just outside of the Formosa straights when we were overtaken by a strong Typhoon.  Our shop was on the main deck aft of midships and I remember watching an occasional wave pass by the doors, the wave higher than the door itself.  Our crews berths were aft in the fan tail, my bunk furthest aft by the gangway, where I could get fresh air in the 100 degree weather of the Philippines.  That night, in the worst of the storm,  we were tossed around like a tub toy, so I took the bunk straps, normally used to secure the bunks upright during the day, and strapped myself in for the night.  One huge wave lifted the entire fantail out of the water and the prop shook the whole boat, then it crashed back down with such force, all the bunks came out of the cams and everyone fell in a heap to the floor.  Everyone except me, who was hanging sideways in my bunk trying to get loose.