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This is probably one of the hardest stories that I have written in my half century on Planet Earth.
The Capsize of Almond Joy by Wayne Erickson
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| Saturday, January 10,1998, I was racing my Formula-27 Almond Joy for the third time in a regatta called the "Duwamish Head Regatta" in Puget Sound. It was a cold, clear day with the wind from the north at 15 to 20 knots and a two to three foot chop, a really great day for racing a multihull. We were in the 5th start and crossed the line going full speed at the gun. So far everything was going as we had hoped. Some of the biggest boats in our fleet passed us shortly after the start, but that is to be expected when you are sailing the smallest boat in the fleet. |
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We were staying out of the tide and in the wind during the long beat up to Alki Point, where the course turns on a port tack to the mark at Duwamish Head. We were passing boats that had started in the second and third starts, the only boats in our fleet that were ahead of us were Chaak, a 40-ft modified Brown, and Cosmic Debris, a F-9A, who was still within striking distance about a third of a mile ahead. Great fun passing the 35 and 40-foot monos, rolling some to weather and shooting below others as they tried to keep clear air by pinching us off. As we rounded the Duwamish Head mark we cracked off on starboard tack for Blakley Rock and started to do what the Farrier boats do best, a close reach. With a jib and single reefed main we were continuing to blow by the monos at 12 to 13 knots of boat speed, with the wind at 45 to 50 degrees apparent at 20 knots. What a blast! This was my first experience with an F-27 reaching and all of us were having a great time. We had expected to fly the kite on this reach but the angle was too high and I don't think the boat would have gone any faster with more power. The problem was that the kite was set up on the wrong side for hoisting after rounding Blakley Rock so we jibed around and went back out on a reach where we could set the kite and then jibe for the run back to the finish at the Des Moines breakwater.We got the kite flying with some difficulty due to a huge wrap while jibing for the run to the finish, but man what a ride! The boat was performing like the race horse she is and was making 18 knots down wind at 120 apparent. Great stuff! Passing all of the monohulls like we were rocket-powered, just what we all hope for when we go out for a sail. We were flying along like this about three milesfrom the finish when disaster struck. We hit a piece of debris. It looked like a 6" x 8" timber about four feet long, a 18 knots. BANG! BANG! BANG! The helmsman said, "I have no helm, I can not steer the boat, lets get the kite down now!" I released the spinnaker sheet and the other crew released the foreguy as directed by the person who was dousing the chute. Now the boat had slowed to about ten knots and we are doing our typical spinnaker douse. The boat started to round up into the wind, and the spinnaker filled. We let the sheet fly, and the foreguy was already released, but because the sheet is a continuous one, the kite continues to fly and slowly capsizes the boat.The next thing I know I am in the water next to and slightly behind my capsized boat, frantically looking for the two other crew members. One of them is in sight next to the main hull with his head above water and as I swim to the boat the real hero of this story, Lee Murray, yells from the other side that he is OK. Now I get up on to the nets and stand up noticing that Del Bates the other crew is trapped by the main sheet and is being dunked under by every wave. Both of my knives were in the cabin of the boat, but Lee has a Spiderco Rescue Knife, the one with the jagged toothed blade. He jumps back into the cold water and with two swipes of the blade has Del cut free, and I haul him on to the nets. We are all safe, but Del complains of being very weak. He is an ex-professional baseball player and although he is fifty seven years old could never be called weak. This Is The First Stage Of Hypothermia! Beware! We had everyone up sitting on the main hull of the boat when the leading J-35, Amacord, dropped his chute and main and came to get Del off the boat. After Del was aboard they asked us if we wanted aboard and I said no I couldn't leave my boat. After all, I have $60,000 invested in this thing, and I was going to stay with her until she was secured. Then Lee said to me "Wayne, this thing is no longer your boat, it belongs to the insurance company." This logic struck home through my thick head and I could hardly wait to get to somewhere warm and dry. On the way in to the dock the crew of Amacord called the Coast Guard, the local Medic One Unit, and local Vessel Assist company. The first people we saw were the Des Moines fire department who took charge of us at the dock, got us out our wet clothes and started the warming process. Del's temperature was down to 93.5¡. There was talk of going to the hospital, but he had dry clothes in his car and responded very quickly to being warmed and was allowed to drive himself home. Eventually the other two wives arrived with dry clothes.Then I started to wonder about the boat. The last time I saw her, she was upside down in the middle of the Puget Sound Vessel Traffic Lanes with a hundred boats coming at her. The Coast Guard sent one of their 41-foot cutters to the scene and towed her out of the traffic lane and set her adrift because a commercial tow was on the way. The accident happened about 2:30 p.m. in the afternoon and about 10:00 p.m. that night Vessel Assist finally found her. They tried many times to right her that night but 25 knots of wind and four foot seas finally won, and she was towed to a harbor and left for daylight the next day for salvage.Now you have heard all about the capsize of Almond Joy. I had a hard time writing the story but thought that there might be some important lessons in it for all of us who own and sail Ian Farrier designed boats. We all know and have been warned that capsize is possible and may have even heard some stories about them. I felt that it was important to tell you what I have learned and to thank all those involved in saving our lives. Maybe I can be responsible for the information that will help you keep your boat from becoming upside down. It can happen to you and it does happen very quickly. There is not much time to think about what to do, so have several emergency scenarios planned in advance. If we had had an emergency spinnaker take down plan, perhaps we would not have capsized. Perhaps we should have plans for a steering failure. I can't think of all the things that might happen in an emergency situation but I am sure that the collective mind of the owners of Farrier designed boats could compile quite a list with many plans of action. I believe that we need to do this and I hope that this will be the beginning of an effort to face the fact that capsize could happen and to think through what we could do to prevent such a disaster.First, always wear a PFD, all of my crew had one on for this race and they are one of the items that helped save our lives. Always carry a sharp rescue knife where you can get at it in a hurry. Equip your PFD with a whistle and a strobe light. These things are not for sissies, real men carry them because they can and will sometime save your life.From now on as long as I am sailing my boat, I will NEVER USE a continuous spinnaker sheet. I got the idea for this off of the F-25C news-letter in an article called "Between the Sheets." This go fast trick—that keeps you from tangles in the cockpit—may work for someone who has many thousands of miles racing experience on multihulls, but I feel it was one of the main causes of the capsize of my boat. The first thing any sailor does when trouble comes is let the sheet fly to de-power the sail, but because the sheet was continuous even with the foreguy released the sail did not luff and literally pulled the boat over on its beam, overcoming the huge righting moment that is designed into Ian's boats.Once again, let me say in a loud voice that I am not trying to blame anyone but myself for what happened to me. I am just trying add to your experience with mine. I hope that this will help you keep out of trouble and save you the worry and cost of fixing a boat after such a catastrophe. I know that if one of my crew had died as a consequence of this accident, I would never be able forgive myself. Consider talking to your crew about what your would do in a case like this. We never practice or talk about emergency issues like this and I believe that it would help us all if we did.I know in the future that if any of my crew cuts a sheet or halyard loose because he thinks we are going over I will never question his judgment. You must take action immediately or it will be too late.
This story and poignant comments appear in the February Northwest Multihull Association Newsletter |