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| April 2006 |
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A Tragic Accident - What Happened
Editor's note: The loss of Scott Peck was a stunning blow to Puget Sound sailors. It has prompted a revisiting of safety procedures on many boats and on the water practice as well. Below is an account of the incident by Chet Hibbert who was onboard. We know this was very difficult for him and thank him for telling us what exactly happened. It's a chilling tale and one that we should take to heart to make us all safer sailors. On 28 January 2006 during the Quartermaster Shuffle Sailboat Race, one of Puget Sound's best sailors lost his life due to Cold Water Drowning. Scott Peck was known for his vast experience; attitude; opinion and as a hard core sailor. The events that lead up to this tragic accident were not unlike many other sailing experiences that Scott and I enjoyed. We were preparing for "Rabbit Wars"; Dance, a Santana 525 with Scott, Al, Beate and myself, against Wild Thing, a Santana 525, with Ed, Linda, Tim and Anthony. All are crew members on Jack Rabbit, thus we used the local races for "Rabbit War's", and Dance was up one on Wild Thing. Before the start of the race, everyone on the crew put on PFDs, per the instructions of the RC. All the PFDs were the manual inflatable type. Scott wore his PFD under his wet gear. No one brought along a tether. As the race progressed Wild Thing gained an advantage at the weather mark and got around as we were left with no air. Eventually the wind returned and we played down wind catch up as we headed to the Pt. Robinson mark. In as much as we were bringing the wind with us, we were reeling in Wild Thing. Scott was driving, with Beate on the fore deck, Al and I were trimming. As the boat was planing at 10-11 knots, I suggested that we take down the chute and go in under jib and main and try to catch Wild Thing on the upwind beat. However, time was very short and Scott gave the command to jibe. Beate executed the jibe with the pole and called "made", but the main and the chute were on the same side of the boat. Scott rolled the boat to weather (Port Side) which caused the main to crash to the Starboard side of the boat and we immediately did a "death roll" broach to weather, pinning the boat down with a spinnaker full of water -the boat could not right itself. Al and I were thrown from the boat head first into the water, as we went from 10 to 11 knots to zero (0) when we broached. Beate was able to hang onto the mast. Al and I swam to the boat looking to make sure that the boat was not shipping water. Beate was moving to release the spinnaker halyard and said that Scott was away from the boat. I immediately went to the rear of the boat and attempted to catch him before he got too far away. I was short about 3' in getting a hand to Scott, but the wind pushed the boat away from him. Beate was able to release the halyard and the boat righted itself immediately. Luckily, Al and I were standing on the life line and were sort of thrown into the boat. Al and Beate started to bring in the water logged chute as I attempted to get the boat turned back toward Scott, who was about 15 yards away to weather. We got the chute in and made a run at Scott, with Beate throwing him a coil of line which hit him in the hands. There was no reaction from Scott as the line passed between his fingers. Al screamed that Scott's face was going in the water and I told him to pop his PFD and go to Scott. With no hesitation Al activated his PFD and went to Scott. He had a line with him but the wind and waves caused him, to loose his grip. I got the boat sailing again and made another run at Scott and Al, maneuvering so that we got the stern of the boat to where Al could grab the motor mount. Beate grabbed Al and attempted to get him up over the stern and I was holding Scott's head above the water on the lee side of the boat. Al was being rolled over by the boat and was losing his grip on the stern. Beate could not get Al into the boat. Scott was dead, as his eyes were cloudy and there was no response to anything; water, light or movement. I had to let Scott go and help Beate, as Al was in danger of going under the boat and we would have two deaths to deal with. Placing a foot on the motor mount I was able to lift Al up and back into the boat. We moved him below and started to do anything we could to keep him awake and talking. Beate had called 911 on her cell phone and the Vashon Island Fire Department was waiting at Pt. Robinson with aid vehicle and crew. I got the motor running and we motored toward Pt. Robinson. The Fire Department launched an inflatable and met us with about a 1/2 mile from the point. They took Al off of Dance and got him to an aid vehicle in short order. He was suffering from extreme hypothermia and the quick actions of the Fire Department prevented him from being seriously injured. As Beate and I started to motor back to Tyee Marina, a Coast Guard helicopter made a few passes and spotted Scott floating in the water. One of the rescue boats picked him up and he was evacuated to Harbor View Hospital in Seattle. The motor back to Tyee was certainly the most difficult ride I have ever taken. We were both mentally and physically numb from the events of less than 30 minutes from start to finish. I have thought of a thousand scenarios that may have changed the chain of events leading to Scott's death, but I cannot go back in time. I would, if I could, but I can't. What I can do is make sure that my crew is prepared to handle man overboard procedures, that we wear our safety gear, have the right safety equipment and conduct training for such emergencies. Chet Hibbert Who Needs an Anchor 
Thought you may like to see this. It was taken on the beach at Santa Barbara on Saturday, March 4th. The skipper, Jeff Catlin, told me his anchor line had somehow managed to sever. Anyway, quite frightening. Cheers, Steve Odam Here's hoping Jeff has the boat safely anchored now. Dovetails nicely (not for Jeff) into this issue of the mag where we present the winners of our "Best (Worst) Anchoring Story Contest, sponsored by Lewmar and Yacht Masters. We received an amazing number of entries, making you wonder what the heck's going on out there in the bays of the world. Anyway, take a look at the good, bad and some ugly that's happened to sailors just wanting to drop the hook, and some who didn't. 48° North the Winch Guys? It was good to see you guys at the Vancouver B.S. (Boat Show). So, what are you guys, winch contest specialists? You had the Lewmar grinder in Seattle and the Harken grinder up here. Enjoyed doing both although I think the Harken was easier. Thanks for the plastic cup. Bob Farley Surrey, B.C. Lemon Drop Let me guess what color your boat is. Yes, we are becoming winchologists. It takes a lot of talent to push the reset button and say go - not as easy as it sounds. Actually, it is, but we want to make it sound difficult so we can keep the gigs. It's fun watching people laughing the first time, winching like crazy, looking at their time, then, with a more serious face and "encouragement" of their buddies, say, "Let me try that again." Looking for Cub Sailboat Owners, Past or Present By way of a background: In the early 1950's a boat builder by the name of Bill Nightingale, who was a local to the Lake Union/Seattle area, designed and built a sailboat called a "Cub". The boat is 23-feet long, 6-feet 7-inches wide, with a bolt on cast iron keel similar to the Star keel. The story goes that Mr. Nightingale built the original for his teenage daughter who sailed it on Lake Union. His inspiration was the Star class boat; however, it bears no resemblance to a Star. The Cub has a round hull, planked in cedar with the sheer plank sometimes of mahogany. The mast is a very tall, (35-feet), fractional rig. It has a cabin that could sleep two, with a toilet, a small sink and a stove. The Cub was built in two locations in Seattle and in Victoria, Canada by amateurs. There was a fleet in both locales during the 1950's and 1960's. Apparently there was quite a rivalry between these two locations. I would like to know if anyone in the readership area still has a Cub, in any condition. I am curious about the survivorship of this little sailboat that was indigenous to the Puget Sound/Victoria area. I can be reached at this address, or at (250) 721-0412. Sincerely yours, Joseph A. Kovacs 1739 Feltham Road Victoria, B.C. Canada V8N 2A8 How Many Yamaha 24 MS Are There? Would you please ask, in your "letters column", if someone in the Puget Sound area knows how many Yamaha 24 MS were sold in the late 70's and if any are for sale? Thank you for your help Ian Foubister Email: foubi@telus.net Yamaha made some nice boats. Found quite a few for sale on the internet but none around here. I'm sure if there is we'll hear about it as soon as this letter comes out and so will you. You might have to contact Yamaha directly to get the numbers you're looking for. Re: Issue January 2006 - Letters "What is this crap about metres?" "What is this crap about metres? This is the US is it not? We use feet, miles, inches, and gallons still? i.e. "current thrusts the 200-metre depths of Georgia Strait and Boundary Pass over a reef lying barely 30 metres below the surface." "At 30 kilometres from Sidney, getting to Narvaez Bay presents little navigational challenge." Bluebill Verdi Chaco Canyon, N.M." Your reply: "...the articles you site are about places in Canada and Canadian charts are in metres, so best learn the system." That's actually only partially correct... Canada adopted the metric system over 20 years ago (along with every country in the world but three - the US is one of those three, but even many US scientific and government agencies have converted to metric), however when the Canadian Parliament passed the law converting Canada to metric, nautical miles were included with the metric units as a legal unit of measurement in Canada because they are used in air and sea navigation... since they actually correspond to a minute of Longitude at the equator, and are not related to the miles used to measure distances on land. New Canadian charts do use metric depth measurements, but they also assume nautical miles will be used for distance measurement. By the way: in the US the spelling is "meters"... it's spelled "metres" in Canada and the rest of the English speaking world. I enjoy your magazine. Robert Hess Delta, British Columbia, Canada Thanks for the Good Wishes On behalf of my family I just wanted to thank everyone for their support and kind wishes on the loss of my husband George. He loved being in the boating business and it's very comforting to see how well he was regarded by his peers. Thank you, Nancy Very 
This Channel is Now ClearPeter Dourghty, 1943 - 2005 Ed and I returned to San Carlos, Sonora, Mexico a little over a month ago to move our sloop, Integrity out of dry storage and outfit her for another season in the Sea of Cortez. In the boatyard, at the dock, in the grocery store and marina mart, we run into friends and fellow cruisers and catch up on the news. Many ask about Peter and Glenora Dourghty and Wanderlust V, the beautiful ketch they built themselves, and it's been our sad duty to tell them that Peter died last year after complications following heart surgery. The Dourghtys have friends everywhere and the hole Peter leaves will be a long time filling. "Bluewater Cruisers, Bluewater Cruisers, Bluewater Cruisers, this is Victor Golf 3377, Wanderlust V with Peter and Glenora and ship's cat Marty aboard…" Peter's deep, strong voice was familiar throughout the Sea of Cortez as the genial net control of the Bluewater Net, the cruiser's favorite radio station. He'd been at the helm of the Bluewater Cruisers' Net when WL5 and a dozen other Canadian boats, members of the Bluewater Cruising Association, came down the Pacific coast in the fall of 2002. The sailors checked in every evening at sunset on their SSB radios, a safety net set up for the dark passage from Vancouver, B. C. to San Francisco. Most years, the radio net ends there. But that year, Peter Dourghty was net control, the guy you check in with. Peter didn't want to quit and no one else did, either. He added batteries to WL5 in San Diego to allow him to host the net all the way down the Baja coast. We connected with the Bluewater Net as we were leaving San Francisco. An email from cruising friends told us, "They are talking about you on the Bluewater Net at 6pm on 6Mghz." Ed tuned our SSB radio the next night and checked in with Peter for the first time, keying the mike and saying our boat name, rather timidly, when Peter asked for check ins. "INTEGRITY!" When Peter recognized you, it was always in caps, "We have a message for you, just a minute." (Glenora always in the background, laughing, paper shuffling, giving Peter the information) "Integrity, Grasal wants you to know that they are on their way to San Francisco and will see you there." Wow! We'd met Greg and Jean in Sea Otter Cove on the outside of Vancouver Island. "Thank you, Net Control. We're headed south, so we'll catch up with them later on." We finally did get together with the Grasals in Morro Bay. By then we were Bluewater regulars. Peter's basic nature was Pied Piper times three. He was inclusionary. Not only were other sailors - Japanese, English, French, German and Americans like us who happened across the Bluewater Net - welcomed warmly, we were encouraged to keep checking in. Peter and Glenora kept records of where we were and passed along news and messages between boats. They added the latest weather forecasts from the news services and sea and wind reports from boats ahead of us. It was live radio. It was irresistible. The Bluewater Net grew larger until it was the main source of information and evening entertainment on every cruising sailboat with a SSB radio that could receive it. At one point, a hundred boats were checking in and the net ran for hours. Peter and Don Anderson, the Oxnard, California-based weatherman (Summer Passage), had natural simpatico. Don's weather reports are must-haves for cruising Mexico and the Pacific and our local observations were valuable feedback to fine-tune his predictions. But the net was getting too popular. Peter and Glenora were also organizing beach parties and benefits and racing and winning 1st Place in the Bandaras Bay Regatta. In 2003, Peter delegated some of his Net Control duties, and my husband, Ed became the Monday Night Man, dusting off his radio/TV experience and enjoying the camaraderie of other cruisers. It was a good way to make friends and a pleasure to come into anchorages with boats whose names we recognized, but not yet meet in person yet. It's not the same this year. The Bluewater Net thinned out when most of us moved on or went home for the summer, and finally quit when Peter and Glenora went back to Vancouver, B.C. to attend to Peter's health problems. When we heard of Peter's death, Ed and I drove north through the Cascades to Westminster to his funeral. We took Ed's new toy, a 1972 Volvo 1800 sports wagon, and had a little trouble with the fuel mix over the mountains, but arrived safely. Winnie of Juvan Isle II and Judy and Peter from Tuugalik were some of the familiar faces in the crowds who gathered. Like everything Peter and Glenora ever did, it was a time of laughter, abundant love, food, music and even a video retrospective of Peter's life. In the video, we learned that one of Peter's favorite things was a Volvo 1800. Ed felt Peter's elbow in his ribs. Afterwards, in the social rooms, we hugged Glenora and laughed and cried and laughed some more as friends from many different places told stories of Peter and their wonderful luck to be in Peter and Glenora's wide circle of friends. Ed was one of those who spoke: "We had to attend and say thank you from all the Yankee cruising boats that Peter welcomed to the Bluewater Net. We were all bound together by Peter and the net, and we became close friends. Peter made us feel like we were honorary Canadians. I'll never forget our many good times and I'll always remember coming into Turtle Bay. A dinghy came racing out from the anchorage with two people aboard. They circled Integrity waving and hollering a welcome. It was Peter and Glenora." We were some of the last to leave and our car wouldn't start. Peter's family helped us push start the Volvo 1800 out of the parking lot. They had experience, knew what to do and were quick to lend a hand. That's Peter's legacy. Now it's 2006 and we're back in San Carlos for another season on the Sea of Cortez. We listen to the Amigo net and the South Bound net, but it's not the same, the man with the big voice and the big heart is gone. Ed Isenhart/Wendy Isenhart Integrity
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