Maybe Fata Morgana was what I saw while surf fishing on Cape Point on Cape Lookout. Far out at sea, I could see big what appeared to be big piles of sand where not sand could be. They appeared to be tall with straight edges like cliffs instead of the sloping sides of most sand dunes. Interesting.
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Since I am not a professional mariner, I cannot contribute a “calling the captain” story, however I would like to share a “calling the skipper” one instead.
During a sailing voyage through the Windward Islands on a substantial yacht, I was at the helm, and increasingly uncomfortable with the next island of the Grenadines ahead looking much closer by eyeball, than indicated by the chart plotter in front of me.
When I was close enough to see the breaking waves on the surrounding reef, I called the skipper from below, who immediately shared my discomfort.
Both of us had well-worn handheld GPS units with us for backup. Since both of our real world visual perceptions, as well as both of our barebone chartless Garmins agreed, and the only one to disagree was the expensive flagship chart plotter (with the latest digital charts), it was an easy decision to disregard the latter and make a sharp change of course.
I tend to believe, that I would not have steered us upon the reef, even in absence of the handhelds, or of the old man, but both surely made it easier for me, then a rookie.
On troubleshooting, we found the classic f’up: Someone, “familiarizing” himself with the complex plotter had, hidden deep in the convoluted menu, changed the chart datum from WGS84 to something obscure, thus introducing substantial offset… From then on I have made it a personal rule to always check this on any boat not belonging to me. I also continue to carry redundant devices.
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Years and years ago I needed to learn how to sail as there was a job opportunity for me and Mrs me
Anyway without telling anyone what I did for a living I set off an a yacht for a whole day and night. It was a fairly substantial yacht IIRC 14m and well known on the international racing scene.
I was later to deliver this yacht to the Mediterranean.
Anyway on the way back from the very uneventful race due to the wind being calm we were motoring back home.
I had grabbed an hour or two of sleep and decided to pop back up to the helm position. I noticed that we were heading directly for a rocky headland, so I asked the helm what course he was steering and what he said was correct.
I then asked who had given him this course and he replied the skipper.
I then asked this guy who turned out to be a lawyer, " If you carry on this course, will you not run into that headland ahead?"
The reply being
" There are tides and things that you don’t know about so when the skipper gives me a course I steer it".
I then said that I was a navigation officer on large ships and either alter course now or call the skipper because if not we are going around pretty soon.
I think it was then at age 22 I realised that it doesn’t matter how qualified someone is if it is not in our field it counts for Jack shit
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Transiting the straight of Hormuz on my very first hitch as 3M. I relieve the 2M and the Capt is on the bridge. Capt says “ok 3M, I’m gonna head down below for lunch (1030 in the morning for reference). We’re currently in a convoy, not actually in the heat of the strait yet. He said call if I needed him. I was at the end of my hitch, almost 5 months in, so I felt pretty confident. I said alright Capt, see ya in a little while.
About 30 min in the watch Navy calls, says increase speed to 15 knots, close to 2,000 yards. Our max speed was 13kts, and as the call ended we came into a massive fog bank where vis dropped to less than .25 nm. I pushed the sticks to the dash, and as I did we lost an engine. I’ve got an Australian cruiser (? Some Australian navy ship) coming up my ass as I’m losing speed, IRGC inbound on their tiny boats, and vis at a minimum. Pick up the phone to ring the old man. No answer. Call the mess thinking he’s eating, no answer. Radio, no answer. PA, no answer. Finally ring the GA 3 times per the standing orders, nothing. I’m on Navy Red telling the escort I’ve got propulsion loss coordinating with the ship behind me to avoid a collision and finally the CM and a QMED(!) come up after hearing the GA. Thankfully we had a kick ass 3AE who ran down and go our azipod back up and running pretty quick and we came out alright.
My watch ends and I never see the old man. I don’t have a lot of experience at that point but I knew I didn’t do anything wrong and the fact that I hadn’t seen the old man was fucked up. I come back up at 1800 for my evening watch, and about an hour later the old man comes up.
“ I heard you were looking for me earlier…”
“yes sir, had a bit of a cluster fuck happening during the transit”
“You know, I go to the gym every day at 11 am… sometimes, I get running so fast on that treadmill I can’t hear anything going on. I’m just locked in. But look, we made it out so, doesn’t seem like you really needed me anyways?”
“Yes sir, all good. Thank you. “
My AB was in the corner cackling. I was ready to throw hands I was so annoyed afterwards.
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I was an O/S on bow lookout and called the rising moon in as a contact! Same ship, i called in a floating minefield. I could see these rounded humps with spikes sticking out. As we got closer, it turned out that my mines were sheep carcasses floatng upside down. About 30 of them.
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“ShoodaCalledtheCaptain” stories are much more exciting.
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I have never mistaken the moon for something else. OTOH I about jumped off the boat when a low flying C-130 coming at us turned on their landing lights and all of a sudden I see a red running light, a green one, and the white range light “on the bow way up there” and slammed the helm over to avoid being T-boned. The plane missed us, go figure.
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When I was the call-ee.
“See that lighthouse. Aim for that and wake me up when you pass it”.
Some time passes…
“Wake up, we aren’t moving and can’t get to the lighthouse”
??? WTF ???
“THAT is the lighthouse OVER THERE with the blinking light. The light YOU are aimed at is someone’s back porch light that is NOT blinking and I bet being stuck in the mud here is related to us not going anywhere”
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Arguing with the Old Man running into Maputo -
We will alter course to port on passing the first marker.
No Captain, the second marker, port of the first one takes us straight in to shallows.
Bollocks.
No, please check the chart (about 1886 or something).
Ok, alter to port after the second marker.
Arrived and arrested because he decided to fly the skull and cross bones.
He thought it was a trading flag, they thought we had the plague.
Fun times.
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You remember what the red light heading into port just like my hearing aids, “Red Right Returning”. 
Of course, with my hearing aids, they are color-coded “Red Right” and “Blue Left”.
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Then there is the often repeated story, The aircraft carrier called to the light up ahead, “This is a USN ship, give way.” The “light” replied “No, you give way.” The ship replied “THIS THE USN AIRCRAFT CARRIER ENTERPRISE, GIVE WAY!” “This is a United States Coast Guard LIGHTHOUSE, it’s your call”.
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The aircraft carrier and the lighthouse is a classic.
It is almost as good as the exchange, between the captain and a deckhand: while on bridge watch, regarding the identification of an object on the horizon.
The first response by the deckhand was to question if the captain could make the situation multiple choice. The final response to the inquirey was “Sorry, it wasn’t on my exam”.
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On a similar note, here’s one from a slightly different side.
A seaman new to the ship (an aircraft carrier) was detailed by his petty officer to go to the bridge at midnight for his first trick as lookout to relieve the man on watch. On arriving at the bridge, which in warships is typically reasonably crowded and, on this occasion, silent, he couldn’t see a thing and anxious to find the lookout called out, “Is anybody there?”
Nobody responded to such a silly question except for the captain seated in his chair who grumped something or other. The seaman felt his way to the sound of the captain’s voice and said, “You can piss off now, mate. I’m your relief.”
You can imagine the rest.
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Our captain, a four stripe captain was pretty laid back. Maybe being a mustanger helped. keep the ship running right and keep it clean and everybody got along. He started beer and pizza Wednesday afternoon. The old “Rope Yarn Sunday” tradition. I saw a lt. commander get down on his hands and knees checking for dirt to make the captain happy. We were in the last port, Valparaiso, Chile before heading for Antarctica and the CO and the XO were having a drink in a bar and the XO said "when we get underway, things are going to change. (The XO had pretty much sailed a desk for most of his career. He signed up for sea duty on an icebreaker to earn some "At-A-Boy points to further his career.) The CO looked at him and said “No they are not.” Great skipper. He cared about the crew.
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Somewhat along the same line; XO = Ch. Off. = Captain in waiting:
Source: Men's classic T-Shirt Chief Mate – IamSEAWOLF shop?
Anybody here who can associate?
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As a C/O for quite a few years I really like that T shirt Mr Bugge 
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I often wonder if it was the rank I enjoyed the most. Now there is a subject for a new thread. 
I was always an early morning person and enjoyed the sunrise and breakfast after the morning watch and for a lot of the time I spent on the 4 to 8 I had stars to take as that was all we had on the tankers and other vessels at the time. Promotion was dead man’s shoes at the time and many of the masters had been at sea during WWII.
As for pilots jobs a guy 2 years ahead of me got in as a junior pilot at my home port and because they didn’t hire anyone else for 20 years there was no movement. The Harbourmaster had been the master of the Pamir, a Capehorner , during the war.
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Yup! That’s what you saw.
Love the cartoon where a new ensign tells a CPO “now you can carry my luggage and show me where my stateroom is and we will get started with training”. And the chief says “And it’s going to start right now”. 
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