#2
It’s Criminal:
The Mystery of the Black Orchid
A Trinity Scott & Gio Rossi True Crime Production
INT. Study—Nautical Theme
Interview—Miguel Santos, Former Crew Member—September 2025
Miguel Santos glances away from the camera. He rubs his jaw, then looks back, his features composed but strained.
“The Mayday call went out at 22:26. Mayday is the most serious call a ship can send. In a nutshell, we got word on the bridge that the hull had been breached. We’d hit an uncharted obstacle.”
He pauses, steadying his breath.
“Bilgewater was flooding in. Engineers went below deck to examine the damage and discovered that four of the ship’s watertight compartments had been ripped open by the sharp volcanic rock of an uncharted underwater reef.
They were soaked to the neck. Seawater was rushing into all four compartments.
It flooded the electronics. We lost power—engines, propulsion, lights—everything.
Even the backup generators went. All gone.
Just the emergency lights remained, which operate for a limited time by separate battery power.
Not that dissimilar from aircraft emergency lights, which also have self-contained battery units. ”
He takes a slow sip of water.
“If you breach two, maybe three watertight compartments on a ship like the Black Orchid, you can maybe stay afloat. But if you rip open four, and you have lost your main engines, you’ve lost control of your vessel.
It’s a huge thing—a dire thing. We were in unprecedented territory, dealing with a disaster no master of the sea would ever want to face.
I . . . I certainly would not wish this on anyone. Never.”
He falls silent. Swallows hard.
“We were maybe three hundred and fifty, four hundred meters from the cliffs on a section of the caldera called Scylla. A cruise ship like the Orchid—she’s tall.
Over fifteen stories high—like an apartment building.
The sides are very sheer. All the little balconies—each one catches wind and acts like a sail.
When you lose propulsion so close to land, and you have heavy winds, the tide, waves, and you are being pushed toward land, you are going to strike that land.
The Black Orchid came to rest on a sloped underwater drop-off beneath the cliffs, and when she did, she lurched violently portside toward the cliffs.
She began to capsize. She was sinking. A Mayday call indicates imminent danger to life. ”
He pours more water with a slight tremble of his hands.
“The order to abandon ship is only ever given if there’s no other option, because it’s risky.
It causes panic. It causes accidents. It can cause loss of life itself.
But when a master has no alternative, they must do whatever they can to safely evacuate everyone from the stricken ship, and get them into the lifeboats, and away into the sea.
If a ship can no longer support life, you must leave the vessel.
Lifeboats should be able to be launched within thirty minutes of the abandon-ship call going out. ”
He reaches for a tissue, blows his nose, then continues quietly.
“But the lifeboats on the port side—they were trapped under the listing weight of the Black Orchid. They were going underwater. With those craft out of use, we had twice the number of people trying to get to the starboard lifeboats. There was a lot of pushing, shoving, and cramming of guests who wanted to get in first. Younger men pushing old women aside. Stronger women scrambling over the weak—they weren’t thinking about other people.
” He pauses. “They were thinking only about survival. Self-preservation.”
He falls silent. The only sound is a soft hum in the room.