THE LEGACY OF AN OLD SEA DOG

No one knows how and when the English dictionary started comparing an aged and seasoned Master Mariner to an old “sea dog”. Perhaps it is the nature of audacity, wisdom, navigating skills, cunning ability to adapt to the perilous sea environment and dominion over an entire sea craft and every soul on it that made this man worthy of such comparison.

This is a story of a man who has all the qualities of an “Old Sea Dog”. He reached the summit of his seafaring career through sheer hard work, courage and determination but failed miserably to live a happy and meaningful life. At the prime of his time he gained so much popularity and possessed all the wealth, power and authority that any man could ever imagine. A dominant figure in his own turf, he was both the envy and fear of his peers, subordinates and colleagues. While some admired him for his superior knowledge in shipping and for being multi-talented (he even cook and bake better than his chef), other hated him for being a womanizer, arrogant, authoritarian and habit of confronting anybody questioning his authority.

The chronicle of his life unfolded in a crowded slum in Cebu. A product of a broken family, both his parents remarried leaving him and a brother to tend for themselves. Living under a hostile environment, with nobody to give or seek advice from, he grew up as a neighborhood toughie. As a vagrant youth, he fell in love and with a young, refined lady, whose mother, a “Gantuangco”, is believed to be one of the heiresses to the entire Barrio Villadolid, Carcar, Cebu. Shunned by the woman’s family for his impolite character, poor upbringing and his constant involvement in street brawls, he left Cebu swearing to return and claim the love of his life but only after proving to the world his ability to succeed in his chosen profession.

He received his formal maritime education at Philippine Nautical School (PNS), now known as Philippine Merchant Marine Academy (PMMA), one of the first Maritime institutions in this country. It was in that same school where, owing to traditional hazing, he got his beating scar below the waste line, deformed middle finger and a split right toe. But knowing that he was in a point of no return he never gave up. He was determined to endure the tortures and pains inflicted by his superior and senior midshipmen who were all out to break him physically, mentally and morally. By his second year, he returned the favor and caused 2 of his juniors to quit. It was a vicious cycle of maritime education that separates the men from the boys, a practice that everyone believe continue to exist even up to this day. They said it was necessary to prepare the midshipmen for the grueling discipline of navigation and the complexities of seafaring.

The curriculum at that time was two years academe, where you earn a diploma of Associate in Nautical Science (ANS) and two years apprenticeship (cadetship), where you earn the right to sit for the Third Mate’s licensure exam, conducted by the then Bureau of Custom (the task of licensure exam was later transferred to the Philippine Coastguard (PCG) before it finally ended up with PRC).

Having completed his shipboard training, he took and easily passed his Third Mate exam. Several months later, he was already sailing on his first voyage as Marine Deck officer. It was when he passed his next licensure exam and was elevated to the rank of Second Mate that he decided to return to Cebu to claim his petite girlfriend. They got married despite stiff resistance from the girl’s parents.

He was already a licensed Chief Officer when the Second World War broke. Fearing that his vessel might no longer call Cebu (his ship’s home port is Manila) he relocated his family to San Jose, Del Monte, Bulacan, where one of his half-brother, a member of the USAFFE forces (caught by the Japanese and died at the death march), resides.

As hostilities at sea begun, the Japanese imperial Navy would shell or torpedo any vessel suspected of transporting arms and supplies. Thousands of domestic shipping tonnages went down the bottom. But despite the extreme danger to shipping, freighters continue to ply their trade, hiding in remote islands by day and traveling without running lights at night time. It was in December of 1943 that his vessel, a 3,000 tons freight ship (FS), hit a floating mine somewhere in Visayan Sea. For such as small vessel, thousand tons of cargoes and hundred of lives were lost (at the height of the war, owing to scarcity of sea craft, any vessel that set sail were fully laden with cargoes and passengers) including the Master who was unhurt but never left the bridge until it sunk (In those days it was common for a Master to go down with his ship). The young Chief Officer luckily survived the two days ordeal at sea, floating on a piece of lumber wood, in freezing waters, drinking his own urine, eating raw fish and anything that floats and can be swallowed (including cartons and fabrics). Fishermen picked him up, together with other surviving shipmates and passengers.

His wife and kids had given him up for dead when one day he appeared at the door step in the middle of the night, haggard and sporting a beard and long hair. His hungry family was both delighted and relieved to see him. They were on the verge of starvation. The constant evacuation to the hills every time fighting erupts at the town proper force them to live on sweet potatoes and root crops. It was a beholding sight to see him unloads from a waiting “Karitela” sacks of rice, canned goods, variety of fruits, several live chickens and a screaming hog tied in four legs. How he evaded the Japanese sentries was never known. Nevertheless, his wife asked him where he got the stocks.

“I took command of a pump boat from Cebu to the coast of Hagonoy. We carried armaments, supplies and armed troops. They have no money to pay me so I had to collect my dues from their cargoes”, he said.

He became a Master during the primitive years of seafaring when a Captain was the supreme authority onboard the ship. His word was the law. Even the owner can not question his decision or authority. He can order anybody shot, imprisoned onboard, thrown overboard or even conduct marriage and all he has to do is justify his actions once the vessel hit land. As the saying goes at that time: “the Master is always right, when he is wrong, he is still right”.

His association with government officials and well-known personalities in the maritime industry transformed him into a heavy drinker (The head of the coastguard, City Mayor and Chief of Police are just some of his drinking buddies). In port and at home the bottle is his constant companion. With his friends around, he can consume at least a bottle of whiskey in one sitting. He often drinks alone until the wee hours of the morning. “One plus one” (one jigger of whiskey with one pint of ice and water) was his usual order for mixing drink. Those who do not know him opined that his relentless drinking posed a risk to the safety of the vessel, passenger and crew. Surprisingly, a good Captain and navigator as he is, onboard his ship he never touch a single drop of alcohol.

The absence of modern bridge apparatus (radars were still a priceless piece of equipment) made navigation at that time a complex and intricate business. The most important piece of equipment on the bridge is the magnetic compass. Navigators were educated with the craft inherited from old Spanish Colonizers to negotiate the tricky and dangerous waters of the archipelago. In addition to piloting skills they were also trained to develop for navigation their four senses (seeing, hearing, smelling and feeling). They called it “Mata-mata and Amoy-Amoy” system. The old man in this story was considered one of the best in this primitive style of navigation. In the black of the night he can pin point with unusual accuracy the proximity of land from the vessel. The smell of mosses and vegetations and the quiet sounds of seas breaking the rocks is a warning to change course to the safe side – to where the fresh breeze is blowing. In the morning, he can tell you what kind of weather to expect that day or the following day by merely observing the behavior of sea gulls, fish and sea mammals, looking at the sky and feeling the air with his teeth and pores of his skin. You can never catch him off-guard during adverse weather conditions. He keeps his own barometer inside his cabin and frequently climbs the top of the bridge, even in heavy rain, to observe the wind and predict the movement of the typhoon himself. When a storm is south of his location, he would never risk sailing his vessel even if he gets the ire of the owner.

“Go find a captain yourself if you want this ship to sail in this kind of weather”, he told the ship owner who was demanding to keep the vessel’s schedule.

In those days it would be next impossible to be a deck officer, much less an “El Capitan”, if you cannot communicate in Spanish language. Masters, especially the ship owners, converse only in Spanish. The renowned Don Jose (Pepe) Fernandez, a Spaniard shipping magnate, who once owned one of the largest shipping companies in Philippine history, the Compania Maritima (CM) and its worldwide trading counterpart, the Maritime Company of the Philippines (MCP), developed a special liking for this Captain. He was appointed as the Port Captain of the entire fleet, a rank that carries an authority next to the owner. For years he took control of the entire company’s operations and significantly contributed to its prosperity. Before he came in, the company was suffering huge losses from cargo claims and damages. He implemented drastic measures by firing and apprehending people involved with cargo pilferage. Even his close friends and allies caught transshipping cargoes out of the warehouses were not spared. His enemies quadrupled in numbers. He regularly received life threatening letters, his service jitney was shot and tires punctured several times, but it never stop him from cracking down on the culprits.

At the height of the labor strike, he opted to side with the company while maintaining an open dialogue with union leaders. For him, it would be better to find a win-win solution than force the company to close down. The union leaders misunderstood his actions and branded him a traitor. When violence erupted in the pier, terrifying shippers and passengers, he was never intimidated. He employed several armed bodyguards, and brandishing a rifle and a side firearm threatened to shoot anybody who would dare prevent him from entering the port premises. From thereon, it was a usual sight to see him carrying a revolver where ever he goes. He was determined not to allow anybody disrupting the company’s operations. He protected the inflow of cargoes and passengers and supervised the loading himself. Officers and engineers who refused to sail were replaced. There was one time when the Master and the entire crew did not show up at the time of sailing. He transferred several officers and engineers (those who did not join the strike) from a nearby vessel that just arrived to the vessel about to sail, promoted several licensed ABs and oilers, hired some longshoremen who are non-union members and commanded the vessel himself. He was so frustrated with that incident that he, together with his loyal comrades, decided to establish the Marine Officers Association of the Philippines (MOAP), to “professionalize the profession”, he said. In his opinion, Masters, being the owner’s representative and in command of vessels, and his deck officers should have a separate identity and not just be controlled or influenced by a labor union. But as tough as he is, he was never known to have shot or pointed a gun at anybody. He left the company to serve as pilot in Davao full of resentment against Don Pepe who never gave him a single centavo to honor his contribution to the growth of the company. Years after he left, the company collapsed and went bankrupt.

But whatever riches and success he may have attained in life was obscured by his inability to earn the love and respect of his family. At one point in his career, he made bold and unwise decisions that would forever change the course of his life. He became a pervert and compulsive womanizer, engaged in polygamous marriage, took in several wives and sired numerous siblings. Worst, he even provided each family housing, property and distributed his wealth according to the size of the family.

As his children grew in number (18 all and all and some others which he did not acknowledge as his own) so was the great responsibility to raise and support all of them.

“Don’t place your heart on your dick” said a protégé, a closed cousin, who was also a Master Mariner, then a Pilot in port of Manila. “If you want meat, why purchase a whole cow when you can buy it in kilos?”. His advice remained unheeded.

His wife by the first marriage was the first to react. She felt betrayed that after living in puberty and difficult times together, he has now taken not one but several women for his wife. Thus, the heated arguments whenever he is in the house became more and more frequent. It finally ended up in physical conflicts and legal court battles. After retirement, he developed a lingering illness and returned to settled down with this wife.

“Indeed, no matter how long is the procession, it always end up inside the church”, said the wife. “Now that nobody wants him, he is finally mine”.

Though the wife accepted and took care of him while he was bedridden, he was never really forgiven for his unfaithfulness, even until his death.

His own children likewise despised him not only for the pains and sufferings that he caused to their mother but also his open display of infidelity, harsh discipline, uttering of abusive language, compelling people to vacate the house when he is mad and constantly reminding the kids that they owe him their lives.

“Even if you grind yourself to pieces, it wouldn’t be enough to pay your debts to me”, was his words whenever he gets mad. It was as if his only responsibility was to bring his children out into this world. Anything more is already doing them a favor.

Perhaps he was thinking that being the sole breadwinner gives him the right to say or do anything he pleases. What he did only alienated him from his children and spawned antipathy among them.

The two saddest moment of his life was when his own mother died. It was the first time that his family saw him cried for many days, even in his sleep. The next was when his house was gutted by fire where he lost everything, including the priceless memorabilias of his life’s achievement.

As his children grew older, they became more open-minded and begun to accept the shortcomings of their father. They all realized that he maybe a difficult man to live with but he was always a good provider who never fails to bring home the bacon. He toiled to provide dwellings and education for his children who, without exceptions, are now experts and specialist in their own field of profession.

“It was like throwing us into water, so we would all learn how to swim”, said the eldest daughter, who is a successful dental surgeon. “In a way, it was cruel but it did do the trick”.

“Love and respect cannot be bought nor demanded. It has to be earned”, said a son, the second to the eldest, a licensed Marine Chief Engineer, who died shortly after he did.

“Although we never felt it, I think he cared for all of us” said a daughter, the 3^rd from the eldest, a summa cum laude graduate of BSE, who holds a doctorate degree and now heads the science department of a well known university. “Perhaps, it was the only way he knows how to raise a family”.

“Sometimes you need to be cruel to be good”, said another son, the 4^th from the eldest, who is a veterinarian and holds a key position in one government institution. “Indeed, because of what he did, we grew up strong, independent and succeeded in life”.

“I can not totally blame him for his infidelity and for the way he treated his children. We have to understand that he grew up under that kind of environment”, said another daughter, the 6^th from the eldest, who is the head nurse of a prestigious hospital.

“He may not be a perfect father, but we owe him the success that we are enjoying today”, confessed a daughter, the 7^th from the eldest, a graduate of business management who now operates a maritime training center.

“Indirectly, he taught us the best lesson of our lives- not committing the same mistake as he did”, remarked a son, the 8^th Child, who is an accountant and a custom examiner.

"It made us a one woman man", chuckled the youngest son, the 9^th and last among his first group of offspring, who is now a shipping manager.

It is ironic that up to the last moment of his life, he never did found the key to happiness. He kept searching, to the point of demanding, for love but found it very elusive. Had he known that it is by giving love that he will be loved and respected in returned, perhaps the finale stage of his life would not have close in such a poignant ending.

Like a sun that has descended below the celestial horizon signaling the end of an evening twilight, he finally made his grand exit from life leaving behind a disillusioned and not-so-forgiving families and a shipping world with one less good master mariner. In his epitaph they wrote: “An old sea dog who left a legacy that span as far as Luzon, Visayas and Mindanao. May his soul rest in peace”.

Wondering why I knew so much about this man? Well, I was the 5^th child and he was my father, the late Capt. Emilio Y. Alviola, and this is his legacy.

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