June 8th, 1997
In the storm''s maw
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The express delivery was falling apart from the abuse. And as the sun set and the ocean became pitch black, I turned on the deck lights so I could see. It was hard to tell what the ocean was doing, but I could feel it had become more violent. I lay in the captain''s berth, strapped down so as not to be thrown into the ceiling or onto the chart table. I had a box of Pop-Tarts and a container of water near the bed, but there was no way I could eat.
The next morning I could hear how loose the standing rigging had become. The thought of a stay snapping and the ship demasting filled me with dread that pushed aside my nausea. The sound was a flopping as the mast rocked back and forth. Was the rigging plate holding the lines to the ship coming loose, or was the stainless cable stretching under the abuse? I went above and changed course, turning to a 45-degree angle to the waves. The deep, sloped body of the express delivery was unable to plane, but you could feel it trying as it roared through the water. I felt a deep pride that the ship had held together this long. It truly was living up to her reputation as being a rugged blue water vessel.
There was a break in the hail, and I grabbed my wrench and went to the chain plates to tighten the lines. The boat was covered in a layer of hail; I had to push it out of the way to keep my footing.
Each stay needed 2 complete turns. Something that it should only need every few years of normal usage. I headed back to the Nav station and checked my readings: enough diesel for 2 more days of motoring; the power banks were charged. My GPS appears to have failed in the storm; I had no idea where I was or how far I had come. I decided that with the GPS busted and the motor possibly failing at any second, I better attempt to make a Pan Pan call. The lesser form of a mayday.
I ate my Pop-Tart and hooked myself to the nav station. I picked up the VHF mike and said, “Pan-Pan, Pan-Pan, Pan-Pan. This is the Express Delivery, Express Delivery, Express Delivery. KA0997 Last Known Coordinates: north 8 degrees 4 minutes 2 seconds, west 143 degrees 46 minutes 59 seconds. Location triangulation and engine trouble on a 35-foot sailboat.”
I waited 15 seconds and repeated it again. Then waited 15 seconds and repeated it again. I switched to Marine MF and repeated my call, then HF, and again repeated my call.
My skin tingled. The MF should be able to reach 200 miles in every direction; someone should be able to hear me. The ocean is vast but hardly devoid of ships. Someone should be dealing with this same storm as me. There was a crackle of someone transmitting on HF.
“Pan Pan Express Delivery Express delivery. This is Base One.” A static-filled voice responds, and my hopes are elated.
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“This storm is beating my ship to pulp. So far we are staying above water. Can you triangulate me over?” I replied, trying to stay calm.
“Negative Express Delivery Please keep us advised of your status. We will send rescue when possible.” The voice on the radio sounded defeated, like it knew what was coming next.
“I will report every 2 hours. It''s good to hear a friendly voice.” My voice falters.
“Copy that, Base 1 out,” they responded back.
It was the dawn of the fourth day; I could only tell it was day by the slight brightening of the sky. The diesel engine had died. My attempts to get it to crank over resulted in nothing; I suspected the water-oil mix had gelatinized and then some part had seized. Worse The house batteries were almost dead.
I climbed to the chart table and called out on the radio, upgrading my message to a mayday.
“Mayday Express Delivery Express Delivery. Express delivery, "I said into the microphone.
“This is Base one, Base one, Base one Received,” they respond. The static is distinctly worse.
“Diesel engine is down. Location unknown. Batteries are getting low. Will check in in 6 hours instead of 2.”
“Copy that Express Delivery,” they responded, and the line went dead.
I was so far from help, so far from rescue. What was I thinking? I had just turned 18 and was trying to be the youngest person to solo sail around the world; I was convinced I could do it. I had trained for 5 years to do it.
But let''s face it. I am avoiding talking about it; I should get it written down.
The rest of the 4th day was hell. A series of shifts in the wave direction meant I had to stay at the tiller, correcting my heading to keep the waves from crashing over me and ripping the ship apart. I played this game until I missed one, and it crashed on top of me. first snapping my mast. Then yanking it overboard. I sprang into action, heading out into the pounding waves to cut the mast free. Before it could get tangled around anything else.
I unbolted the stays one by one, running out and unbolting one, then rushing back to the cockpit as the ship nosed down between waves. When the last wire broke free, the ship lurched ahead. I slipped and slid 10 feet across the deck before climbing back into the cockpit, my heart racing.
I locked the autopilot to keep from being rolled over in the storms, sealed the weather boards, and went below deck to cry; there wasn''t much else I could do.
That night I slept fitfully curled up in a ball as the ocean threw me around until my dreams, my ship, and my hopes were smashed against a rocky outcrop of an island.
The rocky outcropping of the island appeared out of the storm. The volcanic rock was solid and unyielding. The ship hit it broadside hard enough to rip my ship in half, leaving a 6-foot tear in the side of the boat, and when the waves went out, I was sucked out into the warm water. Frantically I scrabbled for a hold on the cliff, the wave trying to suck me down into the abyss. My ship rolled away from the rock and crashed down into the waves.
I climbed to the top of the cliff face. My hands were cut from the sharp lava rock. I lay face down on a flat expanse of land, my blood from my wounds tinting the water that was draining away over the edge.
I crawled to a tree and wrapped my arms around it for security. As the wind and rain beat down. Hypothermia and shock were setting in. I shivered in the cold; my body ached everywhere. I looked up at the black mountain towering over my head and crawled my way tree to tree looking for shelter.
I found none….