International photographer (Jan-Dec 1941)

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proudly. "She can stand a rougher gale than any other craft in these parts. "Remember that night when the Iowa went down — and every man on board was lost? Well, we were there, combing through the waves. Sometimes she was darn near standing on her beams, but the Triumph weathered the gale!" I take appreciative mental note of our motorized life-boat. She is some sixty-five feet long, with an all-metal hull. There is two-way radio equipment, one life-raft lashed above the compact deck. The Triumph was obviously not designed for comfort, there are no upholstered corners for taking one's ease. Every inch of space counts. As she throbs against the choppy harbor you get a strange feeling that she is a thing, alive; a gallant, fighting thing that challenges the sea. The Triumph might be called a glorified surf-boat. She has safety-compartments. In case she were dashed against a rock, she would be only partially disabled. Then, there is another cheerful thought — although she might capsize, the Triumph would right herself. "If we should get swamped," caution; Mac. "grab for a life-line and cling to the ship. We're practically indestructible." I move over a step to get out of the icy spray that is breaking across the prow, and divide my attention between the piling waves that keep rushing at us, and the matter-of-fact sagas of the sea that Commander Mac is relating. Behind us, the five-mile expanse of the river's mouth merges into a last, stormy view of Astoria. Oregon — ahead, a persistant rumbling sound tells us that the breakers are pounding against the jetties. This is my first trip across the Columbia River Bar. Mac looks at us obliquely, as though he is secretly enjoying our private impressions. Suddenly, we change our angle of progress and head for a wall of sprav. This rises and falls, like Northern Lights. Still far away, it comes and goes, stretching high above the waves that surround us. "Feeling a little sea-sick?" ventures our host. "Don't let it bother you; it's all a state of mind." Which reminds me to get out a lemon that I brought along for just such an emergency. There s nothing like a good sour FAXON DEAN CAMERAS, BLIMPS-DOLLYS fobs K~vr No. 22184 4516 Sunset Boulevard Night, SUnset 2-1271 EASTERN headquarters i RENTALS • SALES • SERVICE FOR THE CAMERAMAN PioJeMic*uU Studio atui GuttitUf (loo*n C<^uip*fte*U Available At All Times * MITCHELL — Standard, Hi-speed, Silenced and N C Cameras * * BELL & HOWELL — Standard, Hi-speed, Process and Eyemo Cameras * •k WALL — Latest Model Single System Sound Cameras * * FEARLESS BLIMPS. FEARLESS and RABY PANORAM DOLLYS. FRICTION and GYRO TRIPODS * INTERLOCK. SYNCHRONOUS. HI SPEED and VARIABLE SPEED MOTORS with TACHOMETERS * 35mm DOUBLE SYSTEM RECORDING EQUIPMENT * * COOKE SPEED PANCHRO and ASTRO PAN TACHAR LENSES all focal Icnqtht — Fl LTER S and LIGHTS * MOVIOLAS * SYNCHRONIZERS * REWINDS WE SPECIALIZE in REPAIR WORK on MITCHELLand BELL&HOWELL CAMERAS FRANKZUCKER CABLE ADDRESS: CINEQUIP * AMERA EQUIPMENT 1600 BROADWAY nyc CIrcle 6-5080 lemon to bolster up your state of mind in a rough sea. The Triumph rises and falls, each lurch seeming to push us closer to the spray. Then it dawns upon me that this is not actually spray, but a solid wall of foamtopped, heaving water. It is the ocean, the storm-mad Pacific, rolling against its barriers, crushing the comparative calm of the river, which has come to the end of its way. We are about to cross the bar! The Triumph plunges into the first breaker; she strikes against it, and shivers. Then comes a lull, while she climbs to the top of a gigantic wave. With a sickening lurch, the boat seems to drop from under us. I pick myself off the deck and take a vicious bite out of the lemon. Mac is grinning. During the next lull, we hastily don lifejackets. "Just natural government precautions," says the commander. "Not that I am expecting any trouble." Mac is really enjoying this. If Movietone wants pictures, he's the man who can provide the thrills. A couple of Coast Guard men help to anchor the tripods, and we go about the business of trying to capture the giant seas on film. This goes on for several minutes, until finally the seas settle into a steady, rolling beat. Off the stern, the long jetties are disappearing in a driving rain. We have crossed the bar. My lemon is chewed to bits. I wonder just where Tennyson got his first-hand inspiration for the poem, that goes: "May there be no moaning of the bar. When I put out to sea. . . ." And so, once more, the Coast Guard has gone through, where great ships fear to tread. Heeding the storm-signals, all navigation has halted outside the bar, until a safer time to pass. But the Triumph wallows heroically through the storm, for it is a "Second Tuesdav," and eighteen miles at sea is Tillamook Rock. There six men are waiting for mail and supplies. The Coast Guard boys will get through. Commander McCormick and the Triumph will not fail them. "Parachute Battalion"" • Paul Kelly and Richard Cromwell, two of Hollywood's most popular character actors, have been signed for major supporting roles in "Parachute Battalion," which Producer Howard Benedict sends before cameras at RKO Radio on March 25th. Leslie Goodwins will direct. John Twist and Capt. John H. Fite, U. S. Air Corps, collaborated on the screen play of "Parachute Battalion,' first motion picture to be based on the dare-devil lives led bv Uncle Sam's new parachute troopers.