My father, Julio Martinez, was a Lieutenant in the Navy. He was known to his friends and students as a man of great character, will, and power. At the time he was a well respected man in Bahia Blanca. I, Maria Martinez, was his seventeen year old daughter, who worked a lot around him because he wanted me to join the Navy too. I learned a lot from my father while working for him but nothing prepared me for the journey I took on the second of July, 1982.
The day before the journey, my father was introduced to a new Navy beauty, the Morena Baila. It was the newest war ship made in Argentina. This ship was made to endure the toughest trails and was made to be given in command to the best Lieutenant of the year. That, of course, was my father. When the ship was granted to him, I could see how proud he was. He named her his little Titanica.
The next day, my father invited me on board the Morena Baila and asked me to go with him for a short trip on the Atlantic Ocean. The weather in the beautiful city was hot and the city grounds were almost cooked. I longed to get away from that busy place so I gladly accepted his offer. This was the beginning of my journey.
Away we went, into the cool breeze of the Atlantic Ocean. From the upper deck of the ship, I looked back at my city, Bahia Blanca, and could not help but admire its splendor. Also, its prodicious waterfall, Las Rumbas des Amores, with its tall and impressive stature, made the whole city look as if it was sinking in the harbour.
Everything went beautifully until the dark came. We were quite far from the coast and I was looking at the stars when all of a sudden, the ship lost power. The lightning struck and the wind transformed into an enormous tornado. I could feel the ocean's rage and I was very afraid.
Strangely, while fighting the storm, my father was calmer than ever. He kept on trying to gain control over the ship. He did not dare to let the fury of the ocean drown us. From that moment I cannot remember the rest of the night, I think I must have passed out.
I remember waking up the next morning and that there were dolphins playing around the ship and that the sky was blue. It was like nothing ever happened. I was confused and went to my father.
At my story, he laughed and said it was all a dream. He would not tell me the truth, I thought. I was right, minutes later the nightmare came back.
This time it was even more terrifying. I had to watch my father fight the ocean again. I tried to help him gain control but I was distracted by some most unusual appearances. First, I heard very loud cries and then I could see ghostly figures on the Morena Baila.
During the next few hours, the ghosts seemed as if they were actually helping us. I tried to communicate with them but it was impossible. Actually, it looked as if they did not see me or my father. I tried to touch them. It was unbelievable, but I could feel them. They were wet and cold and reminded me of death. Incredibly, their presence made the situation calmer and I felt as if everything would be OK.
In the end, a few hours later, they started fading away. Then, all of a sudden, the ship hit something hard and power came pack immediately. I got out and saw the harbor of Bahia Blanca.
Fifteen years later I still wonder how we got back home. My father tells me that he saw the ghosts too. While doing some research for a project given my the Navy School, I discovered a possible answer to the supernatural chain of events that took place in July 1982.
It was in an old article I came upon where I read about a missing ship that is believed tohave sunk in the Atlantic. The date the ship sunk was exactly one hundred years from the day my father and I went on our journey. It is said that all men aboard that small ship vanished. Today, my father believes taht those ghosts which helped us were the spirits of the dead.
I for one, still have my doubts, and sometimes wonder if the supernatural would only exists in our minds, or does it truly exist but does not allow us to discover its mysteries?
