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| Our Night of "Golden" Memories By Phil LeVine We arrived at Stage Harbor at about 2 P.M. and all boats anchored successfully and the anchors held. I should note that there was "scuttlebutt" the prior evening that the harbor was only good for five boats but when we arrived, it was low tide and the harbor was apparently sufficient for all eleven boats. We had a cocktail party at about five P.M. and returned to our boat for dinner. Because we were at anchor, we decided not to have many cocktails at the group function and none with dinner. We also decided that since it was such a nice evening, the weather being perfect, and since the anchor was holding well, we would not do anchor watch but would, instead, sleep in the cockpit and assume we would wake up periodically to check on the boat. Every summer, my close friend from high school, Steve, and I go on a two and a half week sail trip on the East Coast. For the last five years we have gone on a flotilla sail with the Catalina Association in New England. This years trip, up the Maine coast from Falmouth Massachusetts, was planned by Steve and a seasoned Maine sailor. Nightly stops at marinas with moorings or dockage were booked far in advance of the trip. Two nights were planned at anchor in recognized anchorages. Our first anchorage was on the fifth night of the cruise, July 8, 2002, in Stage Harbor, Maine. The harbor is about five hundred yards across with a narrow entrance at the North end. The portion of the harbor adjacent to the ocean has a rock barrier which at high tide was approximately ten feet above sea level. That day we had eleven boats in the flotilla. Most were Catalina 30's but there were other yachts ranging from 28 to 34 feet and one trawler, our shepherd boat. Most of the skippers had twenty or more years of extensive sailing and cruising experience as did Steve. Most of the boats had been on prior group cruises. The weather report was 30 percent chance of showers and thundershowers. That was the report throughout the trip and we only had three evenings or nights with storms. At 2 A.M., Steve and I woke up. It was very dark without a sliver of moon or a glimmer of stars. The wind had shifted and was beginning to blow intensely. We also noticed that our boat was positioned differently. Boats now seemed "willy nilly". The only boat we could see next to us was within a few feet of our boat. We realized we were sailing up on our anchor. To add to the confusion, most of the other boats were not visible (except for their anchor lights). None of them appeared except as ghosts in the pit of the darkness which surrounded us. At about this time, the squall, very high winds, heavy with rain, and bang came the thunder and flashes of lightning. Steve yelled, "Put on your foul weather gear and get the engine going". At the same time, the boat nearest us crossed our bow. The situation immediately became chaotic, many of the skippers now awakened and went on the decks of their vessels. They realized their boats were in danger, everyone was taking independent action. Steve went on deck and attempted to haul up the anchor. As he did so, he saw the other boat immediately in front of us and we were about to ram her port stem quarter. Steve went to the pulpit to fend them off and yelling to me "hard reverse", I concentrated on my task. I heard someone saying "Man overboard. Don't let him drown". Boats were everywhere. People were screaming, the wind was blowing 35 knots and the rain had increased. It was cascading over our decks into the pitching seas. I put the boat in neutral but we were still moving astern at a slow speed. The next thing I heard was a little voice at the starboard quarter saying " Throw me a line". It was Steve who had gone overboard. He had tried to push the boat off, jumped on that boat to fend us off and had jumped from that boat to our pulpit but couldn't hold on. That was when he found himself in the water with only his foul weather coat on. The skipper of the other boat had seen Steve go overboard and he was the one who yelled. I threw my friend a line and he grabbed it and was able to get to the swim ladder and climb aboard. I should have thrown him a flotation device first then a line. It was not until I heard his voice that I knew he was the man overboard. He said that with the boat moving away from him and the foul weather pulling him down, he used his last ounce of strength to get to where he could yell to me. The lee shore was only about thirty yards from our boat and the sea was not that rough but he decided to swim to the boat. He told me that he was yelling for help all along but I couldn't hear him because of the storm, the engine and the chaos around me. (All I could think of for days afterward was how could I tell his kids that he had drowned if that was the ultimate result not to mention how guilty I would have felt.) As he got aboard, the engine stalled. At once we realized, when he hauled up the anchor, some of the rode had fallen off the deck and had fouled the propeller. By then we were drifting toward the lee shore with no engine and no anchor out. Steve threw out a little Danforth and it appeared to hold. All our instruments quit so we had no idea of water depth and the tide was going out fast. I had brought a portable fish finder and I got into the dingy and set it up but it did not work either. (The next day, I tested the fish finder and found the batteries were dead although they were new and had not been used except for testing purposes.) We finally made up a lead line and found we had about ten feet of water and were holding. Steve decided to dive under the boat to untangle the anchor rode from the prop. After three attempts, he realized he could not get the line off. He came back on the boat to think. Remembering that he had dive gear aboard, he asked me to help him get the gear and put it on. With a knife he went under the boat but was unable to cut the line off. He then remembered that I had brought a West Marine multi-tool with a saw blade. I got it and he cut off the line and the engine started. After he got aboard, he just shook for about a half-hour because of the exposure. We decided to just motor around the harbor until daylight. Several other squalls hit but they produced only rain. Luckily there was no loss of life and no property damage. I should mention that I had brought a rechargeable one million candlepower light for Steve to replace his old light that plugs into the cigarette lighter. The rechargeable light lasted about twenty minutes and when it was dead, it was dead. We plugged in the old light and it worked until we didn't need it any more. Lights were needed to keep the shore and rocks in view and to accomplish the tasks I noted above. Throughout the trip, we both had worn our auto inflatable PFDs whenever the boat was under way. When the emergency hit we put on foul weather gear and tended to the problem. The PFDs should have been on deck along with our harnesses and tethers. The first thing we should have done was put the PFDs on. On a calm night one would not sleep with a PFD but it should be nearby and put on first. Actually, we probably should have done anchor watches and the man on watch should have had his PFD and harness on with a tether. In the past we had done anchor watches. When we had done overnight sails in the past the man on watch wore a harness and tether. Had Steve put on a PFD and a tether when on the foredeck raising the anchor, he would not have been in such danger. When an anchor is raised in such a situation, be sure all the rode goes in the chain locker. Finally, we learned you just can't depend on your electronics. When one thing went wrong, everything went wrong and the old standbys were what worked. The rest of the trip was wonderful-sunny days, fair winds, great sailing, good food and drink and great companions. |