`Just A Boat Driver,' Says Modest Skipper, Hero Of Rescue Of 131

Capt. Al Krininger, the 36-year-old tugboat skipper who led Sunday's rescue of 131 people from a burning fish processor in the Bering Sea, looks the part of the hero "born, not made."

Tan and lanky, with sea-squinty blue eyes, the West Seattle native was agreeably shy meeting the news media yesterday at Crowley Marine Services.

The former Eagle Scout, who had dreamed of being a captain, fielded queries with good humor about the dramatic rescue near Unimak Island, south of Bristol Bay.

As his tug approached the scene in 4-foot swells, he and his crew braved explosions like cannon blasts, the stench of burning fuel, flames and smoke billowing skyward, to save the people in survival suits huddled on the stern or drifting away in life rafts.

His heroism has earned him shoo-in nominations for the Admiral of the Ocean Sea award from the United Seamans Service and the annual Thomas Crowley Trophy from his employer, the world's largest tug and barge operator.

Krininger said he didn't think he was a hero, just in the right place at the right time.

"It's part of being a sailor," he shrugged. "You have to be rendering aid to people in distress."

Coast Guard Chief Petty Officer Ken Arbogast has called Krininger's actions "above and beyond the call of duty. He saved lives, and there were no injuries. It was impressive seamanship."

Krininger matter-of-factly told reporters how, while driving the 90-foot tug Pt. Milne with a barge in tow that morning, he and his crew of eight heard of a fire aboard a fish-processing ship six miles away.

He ordered full-speed ahead, arriving in the area in 35 minutes.

Familiar with evacuation drills, Krininger nosed the tug against the stern of the burning ship and helped evacuate people via rope ladders. He also pursued life rafts, securing and towing them to safety.

A ship's firefighter was lost in the initial fire on the All Alaskan. Everyone else was rescued and put aboard another factory ship, the Independence, that arrived later.

There was difficulty, Krininger said, because not all the factory-ship workers spoke English. They had few seamanship skills.

"But," he said, "they understood `Ka-boom!' "

He acknowledged the whole mess could have gone up in a fireball any time, but that had not concerned him. Rescuing the people had.

"I had a damn good crew, I'll tell you that," he said. "We'd left Dutch Harbor (Alaska) at 3 that morning. I'm just a boat driver. Without their help this could not have happened."

Was it crowded aboard the tug?

"Standing room . . . we were certainly not licensed to carry that many. . . . The cook was a little worried about lunch."

Was there 1 million pounds of salmon aboard that factory ship?

"Smoked salmon," he corrected.

What lies ahead?

A pure tug driver's holiday: next week, a weeklong, 77-mile canoe trip with friends in Canada.