The acrid smell, the black burning smoke, the screaming hiss of white hot metal slipping into the cold sea, rainbow slicks and thick black puddles, oil and blood streaked like warpaint across the cheeks of men screaming, and though you don't speak their language, you know what they're saying, 'Please help! Please! I have family, I have loved ones, and ones I love, please save me, let me live to love this life!', and though your very soul roars at you to get that man, get him out of the water, save him and offer him the comfort so desperately needed after feeling a mighty vessel buck in her death throes upon the devouring ocean...
The powers that be turn the helm and steam away from that screaming flotsam, sail away from the sea's highest moral code, leaving humanity bobbing and bleeding in the wake.
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