The pounding is audible from shore.

Titan Salvage’s cutting crews are taking axes to the rust on the New Carissa, and even the racket of crane engines doesn’t drown out their eerie, empty echo. Each stroke reverberates from the shipwrecked hulk like a protest from a dying beast.

The New Carissa is seeing more human activity on its decks, containers and ladders than it has in years. The surviving stern of the 1999 wreck, still visible off the North Spit, is gradually shrinking as cutting torches slice off slabs of salvaged steel.

Knocking off the rust makes the cutting easier and cleaner, Salvage Superintendent Dave Grecho said. No one, though, would describe these guys’ job as clean — or easy.

A writer and photographer from The World visited the New Carissa on Thursday and Friday. Friday’s trip included an exclusive ride into the shipwreck’s interior, aboard an open-air “man basket” suspended from a demolition crane.

Rising slowly above the barge, the narrow basket sways in the wind. Riding the steel gondola, Grecho directs crane operator Yuri Mayani by two-way radio.

“Wire down, wire down,” Grecho says, once the basket hangs directly above the shipwreck.

Mayani maneuvers the basket steadily and slowly. Grecho, riding the descending cage, keeps watch and gives commands. The crane on the jacked-up demolition barge Karlissa A is no longer visible as the basket drops deeper and deeper into Grecho’s workplace.

Below decks, a few of the Carissa crew’s long-unused desks remain bolted to the wreck. But this is no desk job for Grecho and his crew.

Years ago, Grecho tried getting a college degree and working in the confines of four walls. The North Carolina resident didn’t stick with that for long.

“I was trying to do a desk job,” Grecho said. “I was trying to be Corporate Dave.”

Then he got the call to work on another shipwreck.

“I said, ‘I’m going back to salvage.’”

He chose harsh environments such as the New Carissa instead of a climate-controlled office. He was the first Titan worker to board the Carissa, and his torch drew first blood from the rusting carcass.

The wreck has a topsy-turvy tilt, almost exactly 45 degrees. That complicates the job and adds to the surreal landscape. Welded-on components have been carved from the deck, uncovering parts of the New Carissa that hadn’t been exposed to salt air or water in almost a decade. What looks to be a fresh coat of paint on the bulkheads stands in contrast to the weatherbeaten areas lying below the high tide mark.

Ocean waves rush through Carissa’s lower reaches. Sand and clams have laid claim.

Above, walkway railings seem absurdly irrelevant. Ladders climb to heights and then just stop. Beams, bars and pipes — some intact, some with jagged, rusty edges — crisscross the wreck.

The visual landscape changes each day, as cutters attack the ship above the waterline. Grecho radios to stop the basket’s descent. He admires the scenery.

“It looks like art,” Gecho said.

Inside, rust takes on varying shades. Holes in the walls paint shadows through the interior. The treacherous slant offers unusual perspectives and angles.

Though visually stunning, the 45-degree tilt has the crew truly harnessed. Dangling precariously down the side of the New Carissa on Thursday morning, one member of each team pounded on the rusted, flaky steel. The other lit up a cutting torch and orange sparks flew.

Workers were dismantling the section they have named “the House of Pain,” because, as Grecho says, “It’s a pain in the ass to move around in there.”

An insulation fire smoldered and smoked in the area shortly before noon on Friday. Earlier in the day, 5-foot flames shot from that portion of ship.

Grecho was watchful, but not overly concerned about the fire. Salvaging is about adapting.

Two cutting teams of two men each slice the wreck each day. David Parrot, Titan’s managing director, said he could put three teams on the Carrisa, but removing severed pieces in close quarters could get dangerous.

The sliced-off chunks have to be lifted with precision to protect Titan’s equipment.

“We have to rig the pieces so they don’t fall and shock the crane,” Grecho said.

So far, crews haven’t dug into the heavy stuff, but Grecho isn’t worried about what is ahead. The “Big Red” crane aboard the barge Karlissa B, able to lift 350 tons, can take any punches the New Carissa and the wicked summer winds throw at it, he said.

“It’s part of the barge,” Grecho said. “If it is going to roll over, it’s going to take the whole barge with it.”

— Staff Writer Jolene Guzman can be reached at 269-1222, ext. 235, or jguzman@theworldlink.com.