July 16, 2003     Saratoga, California Since 1955
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Photograph by Saori Yoneda
Pete Petersen spent a career in education; now he offers a funeral service at sea.
Local man helps families say goodbye to loved ones at sea
By Linh Tat
Water gently laps against the side of the boat tied up at the Santa Cruz Yacht Harbor. A man on board scans the water and determines it will be a calm day. He busies himself with making sure everything is ready to take the 35-foot trawler boat, named Destiny, out to Monterey Bay.

To most, the man appears to be just another person headed out to sea for a day of relaxation. They don't realize he is preparing to lay someone to rest.

For the past 25 years, Capt. Pete Petersen has gazed out toward the open sea for that same purpose. Operating a funeral service at sea might seem an unconventional profession to most, but not so to a man who's spent years working in a funeral home and whose own father had his cremains—the remaining ashes after cremation—scattered at sea.

"I've always had a fascination with death and people who have died," says Petersen, who's lived in Los Gatos for 20 years. "I try to provide a funeral service that makes people feel there's more after life."

On that misty Sunday morning in June, Petersen has plans to take the Post family one mile out past Lighthouse Point to scatter the cremains of Gladys Post, who died at the age of 93. Gladys will soon join her husband, whose ashes were scattered in Monterey Bay in 1980.

Dressed in a Merchant Marine shirt and hat, Petersen stands ready to greet the Post family upon their arrival.

Six members of the family show up at the dock around 9:45 a.m., and as they situate themselves in the cabin of the trawler, the captain first offers his condolences, then proceeds to go over the safety rules and points out the various places where lifejackets are stored.

Soon after, the party is ready to head out. It's a clear day, affording those on board a view of the beach boardwalk, with the Ferris wheel and roller coasters in motion. To the left, sea lions break the surface of the water as they come up to bask in the sun's warmth. The breeze, smelling of salt air, offers cooling relief from the heat.

Suddenly, the engine sits idle, but the boat continues to sway, rocked by the waves. As a licensed pastor, Petersen is allowed to perform funeral services. While the rest of the party sits on benches on the top deck, the captain stands and reads a passage from the Bible, followed by a poem titled "After Glow" about a person who wishes to be honored by happy memories. In a low voice, the captain finishes with a prayer.

Bill Kellogg, Gladys Post's son-in-law, stands and makes his way down to the stern deck one floor below. The rest of the family follows. Kellogg removes the plastic bag holding the cremains. He kisses the bag and then carefully tilts it forward, scattering the cremains into the ocean.

Slowly, the other five members of the party step forward. One by one, they throw flowers into the ocean. Petersen now maneuvers the boat and has it circle the area three times, with the flowers trailing behind in the water.


Photograph by Saori Yoneda

Courtney Post looks on as Bill Kellogg prepares to bring out the bag containing the cremains of his mother-in-law for release into the ocean.


As the family watches in solemnity and the flowers float on the water, Petersen, from his perch on the top deck, collects himself.

"I take on the pain that I know some of them are feeling," he says in a subdued voice, admitting to sometimes getting choked up while delivering a eulogy.

Except for the waves slapping and the boat's engine running, no other sounds are heard for a few minutes. Finally, after circling the area a third time, Petersen heads back to shore. The entire ceremony is completed in 20 minutes.

On the ride back, family members gather their bearings.

"We needed something," says Adele Post, who is married to Gladys' grandson. Nearly one month after Gladys' death, the funeral service has finally brought closure for her, she says.

"This is the way to do it, definitely," Kellogg says about burying his mother-in-law at sea. Both he and his wife, Constance Kellogg, plan to have their cremains scattered in Monterey Bay as well.

Constance says funeral services out in the ocean, where one is surrounded only by nature, are much more intimate.

"It's just so much more peaceful. It's much nicer for the family," she says. "I knew my mom liked it as it was going on."

"Every time we go back to Santa Cruz now, we see Grandma," says Michael Post, grandson of the deceased.


Photograph by Saori Yoneda

Flowers that the family tosses into the ocean float in a circle around the area where the cremains of Gladys Post were scattered.


Once Destiny is reberthed at the yacht harbor, Petersen hoses down the boat and echoes the sentiments of the Post family. The captain plans to have his ashes scattered by his son when his time comes, and his wife wants to have her cremains scattered around a rosebush in the Petersens' backyard.

According to the Cremation Association of North America, 47.26 percent of people who died were cremated in 2000. By 2010, that figure is projected to rise to over 65 percent.

The average funeral service runs about $8,000, whereas cremation costs an estimated $1,000, according to Petersen.

"I don't believe in spending a lot of money for a casket and a plot," he says.

Chartering Petersen's boat—a replica of a 1910 trawler fishing boat—to take up to seven relatives and friends of the deceased out to sea costs $250. For an additional $75, the captain will conduct a funeral service, or relatives can arrange to have their own priest, rabbi, monk or other officiant speak at no charge. A cassette player and stereo speakers are available for those who want to bring their own music for the ceremony.

Petersen is available to scatter cremains at sea year-round, weather permitting. He says he goes out to check the weather conditions two hours prior to each service and calls the relatives if the outing must be rescheduled.

"I don't go out if the water looks rough," he says.

In 21/2 decades of providing funeral services, Petersen has seen it all—the scattering of cremains at sea, followed by merrymaking or despondent family members whose wish is to join the deceased.

Petersen recalls one instance when a man tried to jump into the sea after his wife's ashes.

"Now I really watch the people, especially after I've released the cremains," he says.

But on other occasions, family and friends break open a bottle of champagne and pass around hors d'oeuvres on the stern deck after the cremains have been scattered.

Some elect to have an open casket memorial service, followed by the cremation of both the body and casket.

There are times when the deceased leaves instructions for family members to put a pet to sleep so the animal can be cremated and have its remains thrown into the sea along with the owner.

Several months ago, Petersen opened a bag that contained the cremains of a person. In it, he also found the hair of the deceased person, who had requested that the locks be thrown into the water as well.

Once, in a dazzling display of flowers, Petersen witnessed a plane releasing flowers into the water as part of the funeral service. The family had left strict instructions for the ashes to be released promptly at 11 a.m. Petersen adhered to the orders, not fully understanding why at the time. But immediately following the release of the cremains, the plane flew low overhead and circled the boat.

"A whole batch of flowers went over the water," says Petersen, explaining that the deceased had been a pilot in the South Vietnam air force.

Petersen became involved with burials at sea through a friend's father, who owned a funeral home. Prior to performing funeral services, Petersen taught biology and physiology at Wilcox High School in Santa Clara for 30 years. He also spent 16 of those years teaching part time at West Valley College.

"I was sort of burnt out on teaching. I was looking for something else," he says of his decision to change careers.

Petersen attended Merchant Marine school and was licensed as a captain by the Coast Guard.

Now, with all the years of working with the deceased behind him, Petersen says he no longer fears death and that he can even look forward to the afterlife.

"People have a strange feeling about death," he says. "They fear it; they don't want to talk about it, and yet it's something that's going to happen to all of us. It would make it a lot easier on the survivors if everyone would plan for it."

The decision regarding the type of funeral service to be held is a personal choice, but Petersen says he feels a burial at sea is the way to go.

"Once people have released the cremains, they can start to put the grief behind them and continue with life."

To arrange a funeral service with Capt. Petersen, call 408.358.1774.

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