Chapter 6: Dreams and Desperation

When they first boarded Ocean Star 2682, all of them had the same goal—to make money. For most, it was a ticket out—out of debt, out of dead-end towns, out of broken marriages. They’d left with hope, not hate. They lived together day and night for more than half a year, like brothers. They’d shared meals and stories, joked over greasy eggs, cursed the bosses, passed around bootleg whiskey, and watched the same battered DVDs until the discs skipped. But during the month the fishing vessel went missing, they suddenly turned on each other and committed a terrifying massacre in the Pacific Ocean. Something on that boat had turned hope into horror. The details would haunt investigators, families, and the survivors themselves for years to come.

What could have driven these men to lose their humanity and slaughter their shipmates? Everyone wanted answers—prosecutors, journalists, families desperate for closure. Was it greed? Despair? The isolation of endless sea and sky? No one knew for sure, but everyone had a theory.

Everything began at the very start. The story had its roots not in violence, but in longing—for money, for a fresh start, for redemption. The fateful chain of events started the day these men first signed up.

On December 25, 2010, 19-year-old Hunter Foster from Montana called his mother Carol Foster, barely able to hide his excitement: In a chilly trailer park on the edge of Billings, Carol’s phone rang. She answered, her son’s voice bright and eager despite the static. She could hear the background clamor of a busy port, the clang of steel against steel.

"Mom, I found a job as a deckhand. I’m going to the Pacific to catch squid. I’ll be gone for two years. There’s no signal on the ship, so I’m telling you now."

Carol was stunned. Wasn’t her son supposed to be in Seattle, learning Japanese cuisine with a relative? How did he suddenly become a seaman? She set her coffee down with a clatter. “Squid? Hunter, since when do you know anything about boats?”

"How did you end up on a ship? Weren’t you going to your aunt’s?"

Hunter didn’t dare tell his mother that he’d never gone to learn Japanese cuisine, but had worked as a gas station attendant and quit after a few days. He hesitated, shifting the phone to his other ear, glancing around to make sure no one from the crew could overhear. He could already picture his mother’s face, brow furrowed with worry.

"Mom, this job pays well. Just two years, and when I come back with the money, I’ll come home."

He made it sound easy—two years, a steady paycheck, a ticket home. The way he said it almost convinced himself.

Carol was worried. Her son was only 19 and had no experience at sea. She felt the job was dangerous and tried to persuade him: She leaned forward in her kitchen chair, voice low but urgent. “You can’t go. Come back quickly.”

"It’s too late. I’ve already signed the contract and I’m already on the ship."

The ship’s horn blared in the background. He gripped his duffel bag tighter, the weight of the unknown settling in his gut.

"Why didn’t you discuss this with the family?" Carol was still anxious. Her voice trembled. The living room TV played a Christmas rerun, its laugh track jarring in the silence after Hunter’s words.

But Hunter ignored her concerns and instead painted a rosy picture: "Mom, listen, this job guarantees an annual salary of $7,000, plus $500 in insurance, and $150 a month for living expenses. They say there’s a bonus for every pound we catch, and when it’s over, they’ll fly us home. Sounds pretty sweet, right? Dad’s health isn’t good. When I make the money, you and Dad won’t have to work so hard."

He rattled off the numbers as if they were gospel, the promises printed on glossy company brochures echoing in his mind.

"Is it really that good? Do you know anything about the company? Isn’t ocean fishing dangerous?" Carol was worried her son was being scammed. She worried he was just chasing pipe dreams, as so many boys from their town did, never seeing the fine print.

But Hunter was full of confidence: "It’s all written in black and white in the contract. It’s a big company, can’t go wrong. I checked—catching squid is easy and not dangerous at all."

He tried to sound worldly, parroting the recruiter’s words, his own doubts stuffed deep down.

Carol didn’t know what a big company meant, but seeing her son so determined, she couldn’t stop him. She just told him: "Be careful, don’t get into trouble, and don’t pick up bad habits." Her voice cracked, and Hunter could almost see her clutching the phone, knuckles white. “Just promise you’ll call when you can. And don’t let them talk you into anything stupid.”

"Don’t worry, Mom. Just wait at home. I won’t say more—I need to go buy some things."

Hunter could feel the press of time, the urgency in the air as the crew prepped for departure. He didn’t want to draw the goodbye out any longer than he had to.

As soon as he hung up, someone patted him on the shoulder. The touch startled him out of his thoughts. He turned, blinking in the harsh light of the loading dock.