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Photo from Major Wilson A cleanup crew works the beach off Coos Bay during the two weeks the New Carissa spent grounded there. How some people spent their February Spill drew Medford man By MARK FREEMAN When the call came for help cleaning up after the freshly grounded New Carissa, Major Wilson thought he was headed to an adventure to save Oregon beaches from an Exxon Valdez-like disaster. But Wilson's job running one of many crews called in to clean oil spilled from the scuttled freighter sounded far more exciting than it turned out to be. Major Wilson of Medford was one of those called to help with the cleanup. Taking part in Oregon's largest beach cleanup became 2 weeks of frustration -- and the doldrums -- for the 31-year-old Medford man. "It was a lot of hurry-up-and-wait, a lot of standing around," Wilson says. "And it was cold." But aiding in the environmental cleanup did have its high points -- like the surreal feeling of walking up to the 639-foot freighter stuck in the sand outside Coos Bay. "It's pretty amazing, pretty remarkable just standing that close to it -- and not getting wet," Wilson says. Wilson was a group leader for one of more than a half-dozen environmental cleanup firms hired to clean up the oil that washed out of the New Carissa's bow. The saga of the New Carissa began Feb. 4, when the 639-foot chip freighter, laden with 400,000 gallons of fuel oil, ran aground off Coos Bay. About half of the fuel load was burned off by explosives experts Feb. 10, but hours later the ship split in two, spilling 70,000 gallons. The first effort to tow the oil-laden bow section to sea two weeks ago failed when it broke away during a storm and washed ashore at Newport, 80 miles north of Coos Bay. A powerful tug hauled the New Carissa -- still loaded with 130,000 gallons of fuel -- 300 miles out to sea before a Navy destroyer used 70 shells and a torpedo to send it down into 12,000-foot-deep waters. The empty 220-foot stern still sits half-buried in the beach at Coos Bay. More than 604 dead birds have been found on shore -- 273 of them splotched with oil -- while gooey globs about the size of pencil erasers have soiled the coastline since the ship first ran aground. Four days after the ship's grounding, Wilson was sent to Coos Bay by TCB Industrial, a Portland-based cleanup firm for whom Wilson has worked occasionally. Wilson expected long, rough days running a crew of 25-35 workers raking and bagging oil-soaked sand, stones and driftwood for disposal. Instead, they found that thin lines of the contaminants would be deposited on the beach at low tide. "It wasn't what a lot of people were expecting," he says. The crews spent hours standing around in their rain suits waiting for orders, which often changed, after coming from the unified command group consisting of Coast Guard personnel, insurance representatives and people from state and federal agencies. When work came, it wasn't much. "It got to a point where people were running over each other to do stuff," Wilson says. Some days, crews never made it to the beaches and instead spent the day hauling garbage bags to inland trucks for hauling to incinerators or landfills, he says. Other than standing next to a grounded ship, the stiff winds, pelting rain and hail, the crashing surf and pure cold of the coast left more of an impression upon Wilson than a feeling of helping the environment. Despite the boredom, Wilson is glad to have played a small part in the New Carissa saga. "To have experienced something like that and be part of it -- yeah, it was worth it," Wilson says. Mail Tribune Copyright � The Mail Tribune 1999, Medford, Oregon USA