THE DEVIL MAKES THEM DO IT; EXORCIST, ROBED MATES MEET MATCH IN TROUBLE-PLAGUED TUG.

Byline: JEREMY BAGOTT Latitude 34

Let's give the devil his due. The S.S. Michigan has had trouble, serious trouble. So much so that some might think it was possessed.

Of course, Bill Kelly and his wife, Gay Wassall-Kelly, knew the score about the Michigan before they ever bought the stubby mackerel boat, which was built in the 1940s and then converted to a miniature tugboat. In its 50-odd years, it has sunk nine times, caught fire and had its hull stove in.

``Every time we took her out, we had problems, something always happened,'' said Wassall-Kelly, a San Fernando Valley expatriate living dockside in Newport Beach.

If you doubt the Michigan is hell-bent on being hell-born, consider:

It was mired in muck and submerged by its fifth birthday, and sat on the bottom throughout the late 1940s and early '50s.

It once sank after being hit with a can of beer fired from a cannon during a boat parade.

After being fitted with a fiberglass bottom to help keep it afloat, the Michigan promptly popped out of the fiberglass and sank again.

Lloyds of London, the maritime insurer that routinely issues policies for freighters in wartime, is said to have refused coverage for the Michigan.

In fact, the Michigan has had so many problems and spent so much time stranded at every dock in Newport Harbor that it became a status symbol to have it break down near your pier.

Enter the Rev. Joe Warren, federally licensed sea captain, ordained minister and boat exorcist.

While Warren would much rather officiate weddings at sea - his first calling - than ridding boats of demons, as he sees it, it's a job that has to be done.

``It's been recognized for centuries that Jonahs have been aboard vessels,'' said Warren, who's from Newport Beach. ``Both ethereal and physical beings can cause a great deal of havoc aboard ships at sea. We see things from a traditional prospective, not a scientific one.''

Warren, a mixture of Jimmy Buffett and Jimmy Swaggart, Tom Selleck and Thomas Aquinas, with a touch of Father Guido Sarducci for good measure, is not quick to put a vessel through the ordeal of exorcism. To date, he has had to perform only three.

According to Warren, who has been ministering to the Michigan since early November, the root of the problem is simple - the confused soul of a dead Norwegian fisherman.

The man had died at sea and instead of going toward the light, his spirit returned to his old boat, his place of greatest comfort, to do mischief, Warren claims.

When he's got a possession on his hands, Father Warren turns to a pair of divining rods to locate the spirit. On the Michigan, the evil dwelled in a spot on the starboard side of its deckhouse.

Warren keeps a Torah-like scroll in an ark and otherwise conducts a simple service involving ritual confession once a week, after which a bottle of sacramental wine is given to the celebrant who unburdens the most shameful confession.

The exorcism aboard the Michigan started off unassumingly enough. With great ceremony, Warren ignited a small can of Sterno, picked up two small divining rods and reaffirmed the center of the evil. His apprentices, Brothers John Hammond and Johnny O'Connell, huddled around the offending side of the Michigan's wheelhouse. ``The Michigan is filled with seething evil!'' Warren bellowed, raising his arms in defiance and righteous indignation.

The chants and litany of Warren's apprentices pierced the tranquility of the quiet dockside neighborhood.

Witnesses to the service wore black and garlic-clove necklaces. Some drank beer. Passers-by stopped and stared.

Then Warren read from ``The Expulsion of Demonic Forces from Vessels,'' a text he himself wrote. Incense was burned in censers. A small miracle was performed as Warren turned Newport Harbor water - some of the filthiest water south of Marina del Rey - into a purified state. In an act that was nothing less than, well, icky, Brother Hammond vomited into a font in an effort to purge the demons that had been transferred from the boat to his body. Warren nearly singed his eyebrows in a flameout and the ceremony was basically over.

Whether the Michigan will stay afloat remains to be seen, but, even if it does, the exorcist has his detractors.

``There's no such thing as haunted houses or haunted boats,'' said Dr. Michael Shermer, author of ``Why People Believe Weird Things'' and editor at Altadena-based Skeptic Magazine.

``Why does one boat have more trouble than another? Why are some cars lemons? We are storytelling, pattern-seeking animals that try to interpret our environment and explain it,'' Shermer said. ``Whenever there's a gap in our knowledge, we attempt to explain it by summoning forth supernatural forces.''

Summoning such forces may not have been exactly what Warren's mother, an Italian immigrant, was hoping for when she prayed that one of her three sons would become a priest.

After a stint at the University of San Francisco, Warren moved to Southern California and founded the Order of the Brothers of the Riverboat Angela Louise. It is a nondenominational ministry, though it is not without ``certain Catholic spikes,'' as Warren puts it.

He got started exorcising demons from vessels after trouble began brewing on his own boat.

``The Angela Louise had a powerful mojo going on,'' said Warren. ``A mojo is an icon that contains strong magic.

``When I bought her, I had to transit her from Shelter Island (in San Diego) to Newport Harbor. The journey was beset by incident after incident - electrical, machinery, fuel, you name it.

``I knew the problems were of a demonic nature. I knew full well I was taking the vessel away from her home, where she had been for 30 years.

``I found a rosary aboard that had belonged to the owner's mother. (It) was originally there for good luck,'' Warren said. But, for him, it was a bad omen.

He cast the rosary into the sea, an act he felt would cleanse the vessel. He also renamed the craft, which is always dangerous from a spiritual standpoint. He then installed his own good mojos. One of which was his mother's St. Christopher medal.

So, does it work? Are all of his clients convinced their boats have become demon-free?

``Absolutely, they are completely satisfied with the outcome of the exorcisms,'' said Warren, who performs the rite in return for a donation, which is loosely based on the afflicted boat owner's ability to pay.

``I guarantee it from repossession - unless, of course, there's a lien on the boat.''

``(The Michigan) is riding about 4 inches higher in the water,'' said Bill Kelly, cautiously optimistic over the result.

The skeptics may have their doubts, but when a boat sinks at the drop of a dime, the truth may lie somewhere between the devil and the deep blue sea.

CAPTION(S):

3 Photos

PHOTO (1--Color) The exorcism of the S.S. Michigan concludes with a flaming finish by the Rev. Joe Warren as Brother Johnny O'Connell, center, looks on.

(2--Color) The Rev. Joe Warren splashes holy water, purified from Newport Harbor, onto the S.S. Michigan deckhouse.

(3--Color) Brother Johnny O'Connell adjusts his censer for the exorcism of the S.S. Michigan on Sunday in Newport Harbor.

Jeremy Bagott/Daily News