Knocked Down!!! More Lessons Learned!

On November 2, 2011, I arrived in Norfolk, VA. to accompany a couple, Tom and Barbara who purchased a Pacific Seacraft 40' named Kalani.  Our destination was St. Thomas, USVI.  We departed Norfolk at 1000 hrs and headed out of Chesapeake Bay.  By mid afternoon we were out of the bay and headed for our Gulfstream Crossing.  All weather forecasts showed promise of very good conditions for a fast crossing.

On November 5th, nearly 400nm down range, we encountered what was to become Tropical Storm Sean.  The GRIB files did ot show any sign of development other than some winds approaching 35 to 40 kts from the Northeast.  What we encountered on that day was winds sustained at 40 kts and gusting over 50 kts from the Northeast.  We adjusted course South to get the wind behind our beam, and had only a small sliver of jib unfurled to keep headway.

The waves quickly built over 30' and breaking with the tops blown off and sweeping our decks with green water and heavy rain.  We had our steaming light on to monitor the decks and rigging revealing the drama of the waves blowing over the bow and cabin. The only comfortable place to stand watch was behind the dodger in the companionway with the Auto-pilot remote.  Tom came on watch to relieve me at 0400 hrs and I lay below for some much needed rest.  I wedged myself into the settee seat on the starboard side of the boat.

At approximately 0730 hrs, I woke to an explosion and found myself buried beneath everything that was on the port side of the boat on top of me.  I looked up and saw that the whole boat was nearly, fully upside down.  As we came back to level, I climbed out from below the debris and checked on Tom.  He was in the companionway still sitting and replied he was okay when I shouted for everyone to check in.  Barbara was standing at the door of her aft cabin staring at the two feet of water pooled at the floor of the cabin, but okay physically.

Tom shouted that we have a problem and I came on deck to find the dodger and bimini had been virtually destroyed.  The main sail was flogging in the wind and out of its stack pack enclosure which broke open.  I was relieved to find the mast and jibs still intact.  The next hour was a flurry of removing debris and casting the tubing and canvas overboard before someone was impaled on the frames.  We got the mainsail furled and under control as well as the myriad of lines which had turned into a large ball of knots.

As we finished cleaning up, I noticed the SPOT locator I keep under the dodger was gone!  This was NOT good!  I knew there would be a lot of concerned family members and friends who were following along as we progressed.  I immediately assigned Barbara the roll of Comm's Officer.  Tom was to be my assistant troubleshooter and we went about finding what was working and what was not.  All the electronics seemed okay and we engaged our electric bilge pumps to be sure we bailed any water that entered the boat.

Barbara got on the portable Sat-phone and called my fiance' and my parents to let them know we lost the SPOT. Let them know we are okay, but we need to contact the Coast Guard and set up a Comm's Watch with them as we set a course back for the States.  After assessing our position and wind direction, we decided on Southport, NC. at the Cape Fear River.  I was familiar with that area as I had been there on several occasions.

We sailed as best we could toward Southport for the day in violent conditions.  Our electronic navigation was the first to flake... No Depth Finder, no Wind Speed Indicator, and most of all... NO AUTO-PILOT! The one item that would have been helpful in staving off our fatigue, having to hand steer in huge following seas was now gone. Things were looking bleak.  The wind did not abate... The seas continued to roar around us.  We were 400 nm from the nearest land. Very concerned!

Our boat was tossed like a rag doll as well as its crew.  After sunset, we were pretty exhausted and we decided it best we set the boat to a bare poles, heave-to with the helm lashed at one quarter turn to port.  This set our aft starboard quarter to the 40 knot winds and 40 to 50 ft seas.  The boat bucked heaved and yawed and we took several breaking waves into the cockpit, but we secured the boat and went below for rest. At 0400 hrs, our lights went out... All DC circuits were dead.  I started the GenSet and we once again had lights.

It never occured to us to physically check to see if the bilges were actually pumping out when we turned on our electric bilge pump.  I pulled up the floorboard and was horrified!  The water was filled to the floorboards in the bilge.  We had nearly 200 gallons of water in the bilge.  It flooded over our our batteries, our below deck wiring and every other system was awash. All systems were now down... Including our GenSet and Engine. We were now officially a "dead ship" in reference to power. I was furious at myself for not checking the bilges earlier.

We kept a two hour comms watch via portable sat-phone with the Coast Guard 5th District Rescue Coordination Center (RCC) in Norfolk, VA. A French freighter was diverted to our location and arrived at dawn on November 6th.  They offered fuel, food water or evacuation if we chose, but we opted to stay aboard.  We continued to stay in touch with RCC and at 0700, I went on deck and unfurled our jib by 50% and set a course for Southport once again.  The winds were still over 40kts, but the seas were not breaking as much any longer.  We were making 7 to 10kts!  We bade Adieu to the French freighter and thanked them for their assistance.

Kalini was going to make it back and I was damned determined that we would do just that.  I will not go into the details of decision process and conversations between my clients and myself other than to say, we all had to dig deep to find our own strength to sail nearly 400nm in a boat that was quickly losing all systems.  There were discussions of abandoning ship, helicopter rescues and other thoughts. Both Tom Barbara were still suffering from sea sickness.  We pressed on.

Our only hope to not be completely exhausted was the Monitor Wind Vane we had on board. Tom had never used it and I had no experience with the unit.  I instructed Tom that it was his duty to make that thing work even if it took all day!  After an hour or so of trial and error, we found some success and Kalani was now under control with a wind vane auto-pilot.  We were relieved.  tom and I gave each other a "high five" morale was improving!

The rest of the day was Tom and I swapping off watches every two hours.  Barbara was still too sick and weak to do anything besides handle our comm's.  The wind vane busted a bracket bolt on the starboard side and Tom Cobbled up a fix for it using a piece of yacht braid line, he torqued it back in place with a wind and pulley.  We were back in business.  At dark, Tom and I switched to four hour watches to afford longer sleep times for each of us.  We stayed on four hour watches for the remainder of the trip.

Early morning, November 7th around 0300 hrs, USCGC Elm arrived on scene and contacted us by VHF-FM.  We had no navigation lights and in the monstrous seas, we were invisible by radar.  I periodically signaled them with a flashlight.  They stayed with us from 100nm out all the way in to Cape Fear outer marker.  They actually had the worst of it out there... Where we were a small sailboat, a large cutter built for servicing Aids to Navigation in 30' to 40' following seas made for a horrible ride for them, especially when we crossed the Gulf Stream with Northeast opposing winds to the stream.

We both bucked and yawed across the stream and by days end we finally made it across and the seas abated some.  The winds were still at 30kts. We were on the home stretch. Less than one day to go and we would be in port by early morning on Tuesday the 8th.  We arrived at "FP 2" marker (Frying Pan Shoal) at midnight and right on schedule, the CG Utility Boat 47287 arrived on cue to pick up our escort in to Cape Fear River Channel.   we bade CGC Elm good bye and thanked them for their assistance.  CG 47287 took us in tow at 0200 hrs and brought us in to Southport Marina by 0400 hrs.

Our ordeal was over.  We had overcome our situation.  We dug deep inside ourselves to make it.  We staved off panic and fear and willed ourselves to the finish.  I had so many emotions and so much adrenaline running through my system, I did not go to sleep until that evening.  Tom and Barbara headed for a hotel to get some sleep and a hot shower.  I stayed behind, made some phone calls to loved ones thanked them for their prayers and support.  I went ashore for a hot shower and a change into dry clothes, I packed my bags to fly home later that day.  I found out our storm had a name now... Tropical Storm Sean!  She was expected to strengthen and packed winds over 60 kts already.

I went above decks and looked over Kalani. She had been capsized by a rogue wave, all her electrical systems smothered and she still brought us safely home.  I coiled up all her lines, straightened up her decks, re-furled her stays'l, put the covers on her instruments, flaked her mains'l on the boom and re-packed her in her stack pack, untangled her sheets. I gathered my belongings, stepped on the dock.  I looked over Kalani from stem to stern... She was bent and battered, but not broken.  She will sail again for many years to come.  I layed my hand on her shrouds and said, "Thank you". I met my cab and headed for the airport with lots of lessons learned (Which is the subject of my next blog.)  In the meantime, my Lovely Lady of the Skies, Linda, awaits my company.

God Bless and Godspeed!