"Summary of Overboard"
Scientists have recently discovered there are far more
rogue waves than previously thought, and they are likely increasing in size and
frequency. Among the worst places on the planet to generate rogue waves is the
Gulf Stream, just off the east coast of the U.S. This is the location of a May
2005 disaster and survival story chronicled in Overboard! by bestselling
author Michael Tougias and published by Scribner.
This true story begins when Captain Tom Tighe and first
mate Loch Reidy of the sailboat Almeisan welcomed three new crewmembers
for a five-day voyage from Connecticut to Bermuda. The new crew included
46-year-old Kathy Gilchrist, 70-year-old Ron Burd, and 34-year-old Chris Ferrer.
While Tighe had made this trip 48 times and Reidy accompanied him on 20 of those
voyages, the rest of the crew had joined to learn more about offshore sailing.
Four days into their voyage a storm struck, and a rogue wave swept the captain
and first mate into the seas. The new crewmembers managed to stay aboard the
vessel as it was slowly torn apart by the rampaging ocean. Overboard!
follows the simultaneous desperate struggles of the crewmembers still on the
boat and the captain and first mate fighting for their lives in the sea.
Tougias
Also hit by the same storm was the sailboat
At Ease,
located off North Carolina. Captained by Army Black Hawk helicopter Bob Cummings
and assisted by sailboat racer Jerry McCarthy, the two men had considerable
sailing experience, but neither had seen anything remotely similar to the
violence of the storm they were caught in. Overboard! chronicles their
desperate fight for survival after their boat is capsized.
The Coast Guard’s ensuing search and rescue was so
difficult and dangerous it was later selected—from among thousands of cases—as
the SAR case of the year. Helicopter pilots and rescue swimmers alike found
themselves in almost as much trouble as those trapped by the rampaging ocean.
By turns tragic, thrilling, and inspiring,
Overboard! is a riveting, fast-paced true story of disaster and survival at
sea.
(Overboard! is a hardcover book that includes photos and
maps. On sale in the Nature section of bookstores everywhere beginning March 16,
2010).
"Read The First Three
Chapters"
Chapter One:
PREPARATIONS AND A NEW CREW
Tuesday, May 3, 2005
Stepping aboard the
Almeisan, a smile spreads across Chris Ferrer’s face as he thinks how
the days of planning and buying gear are behind him, replaced by the trip
itself. The Hardin 45-foot sailboat will soon carry him on his first
lengthy offshore voyage – over 600 miles of blue water sailing from Black
Rock Harbor in Bridgeport, Connecticut, to Bermuda. The boat doesn’t rock
as Chris puts his full weight on the deck, and he likes its solid feel, a
full 17 feet longer than his own sailboat. He can’t wait to get underway.
Muffled
noises rise from below, and Chris steps down the companionway ladder,
shouting a hello before he reaches the bottom. Captain Tom Tighe and first
mate Lochlin Reidy look up from their chores and walk toward Chris, offering
their hands and welcoming him to what will be his temporary, floating home
for the next several days. Chris returns the greetings, but his eyes scan
the space around him, and he doesn’t like what he sees. Gear and supplies
lay scattered about, and it’s clear there are several hours of work to do
before the crew embarks. He shakes off his disappointment and asks what he
can do to help.
Chris learned
of the opportunity to go on this voyage through a service, Offshore Passage
Opportunities, which matches interested crew with captains, their boats, and
the destination. A crossing to Bermuda was something the 34-year-old
molecular biologist and information technology administrator had been
wanting to do for a long time, both for the adventure of the trip and the
offshore experience to be gained by being an active crewmember rather than
just a passenger. He thought that someday he might buy a bigger boat, and
he wanted to learn all that he could about blue water sailing. That was the
very reason he chose the Almeisan and Captain Tighe, a skipper who
enjoyed sharing his knowledge gained from his 48 crossings between the U.S.
and Bermuda.
Chris is
5’8’’ tall, of average build with short brown hair, brown eyes and glasses.
He’s got a quick, ready smile, a strong voice, and a sharp mind, which he
puts to good use with an irreverent sense of humor. He’s the type of person
who can walk into a party, not know a soul, and within minutes be engaged in
comfortable conversation, making people around him laugh. Married, Chris
will soon become a father – one more reason to make this voyage now before
parenting duties demand more of his free time.
In
preparation for the trip, Chris has followed Captain Tighe’s instructions to
purchase a yellow foul weather suit, safety harness, boots, leather palmed
gloves, as well as an airline ticket for the return trip from Bermuda. This
will be a one-way trip for Chris, and Tighe will make the return voyage with
a new crew who will be waiting in Bermuda. In addition to the mandatory
personal gear, Tom has asked him to read the 300-page Almeisan Cruise
Manual, an incredibly detailed body of work produced by the captain that
covers everything from duties to be performed while on watch to the
operation of safety equipment.
One of the
first things Chris learned from the manual was that the name Almeisan
(pronounced Al-may-sin) is the name of a bright star, and in Arabic means
“proudly marching one.” Chris appreciates the work that went into the manual
and considers it a positive reflection on the captain, who wishes to have
his crew know the vessel inside and out. Tom has seemingly thought of
everything entailed in sailing to Bermuda, including a section on passage
dynamics that begins by stating: “An ocean passage on a small yacht will be
a new experience for many. You should be prepared to experience mood
swings. As we leave you may wonder why you are doing this. Remember when
you decided to make the passage for your answer. You will surely wonder why
you made the trip when we encounter heavy weather. When the weather is good
you will be glad you made the trip and think it is a great experience. Your
recollection of the trip later will most likely only include the good
times.”
Chris is not planning on any mood swings, because even during difficult
times in his life he rarely sinks too low, having figured out – even at his
relatively young age – that while he may not be able to control events, he
can control his reaction. Staying upbeat has become almost second
nature.
As Chris
works on the deck, fastening halyards and jack lines, he gets his first good
look at the Almeisan. The yacht has a ketch rig; two masts with the
taller mast forward and the shorter mast aft. The headsails and the main
sail are equipped with manual furling mechanisms, which can be set and
trimmed from the cockpit. A cruising spinnaker and a mizzen staysail
increase the boat’s sailing capability. The height above the water-line to
the top of the main mast is 53 feet. Chris knows the boat is not new – built
in 1981 – but the equipment appears to be in fine shape. The Almeisan’s
cockpit with hardtop dodger is just aft of center, and can be completely
enclosed with canvas curtains and plastic windows. On deck, directly
forward of the cockpit, are two translucent Plexiglas hatches measuring 2
feet by 5 feet. These provide illumination for the salon below. The
fiberglass boat’s large foredeck has a teak overlay; a great place on calm
and clear days to soak up the sun.
Looking up
from his inspection of the boat, Chris sees a woman carrying a duffel bag
walking down the dock toward him. He knows this must be Kathy Gilchrist,
the second paying crewmember. When she arrives at the Almeisan,
Chris greets her and welcomes her aboard.
Like Chris,
Kathy is making the trip to learn more about off-shore sailing and for the
new experience of going on a long voyage. But unlike Chris, she’s having
second thoughts.
Kathy, age 46
and single, is a legal secretary from New Jersey wholearned about boating
aboard her father’s powerboat. When her father passed away she missed being
on the water, and decided to try sailing, joining a club and sailing with
friends as often as possible. She later took several navigation courses and
crewed on overnight sailing trips. As the years went by the allure of a
longer voyage under sail, particularly one to Bermuda, prompted her to start
reading more on offshore sailing. She met Captain Tighe while shopping for
a book on the Gulf Stream at a large retail store, Landfall Navigation,
where Tom worked part-time. Tom, 65 years old, had retired from his career
in industrial sales, but he wasn’t ready to slow down. He pursued his
passion of sailing by putting in a few hours at Landfall Navigation,
performing custom boat work, and teaching his “Bermuda Bound Bluewater
Sailing Seminar.” However, the days he most looked forward were those on
the water, sailing with his wife, children, grandchildren and friends.
When Kathy
met Tom at the store, she happened to mention her interest in sailing to
Bermuda someday, and Tom explained a bit about the trips he made. He gave
her his card and suggested she check out his website to learn more, which
she did. A few months later Tom e-mailed her and suggested she take his
course and possibly go on an upcoming Bermuda voyage set for May. Before
she committed to join his crew, Kathy first took Tom’s bluewater sailing
course, which she enjoyed. She told Tom she wanted to go on the Bermuda
trip, but explained she thought May might be a little early for her first
offshore trip. Tom assured her that May was a good time for the trip, and
said that whenever she had watch duty he would be scheduled to share it with
her. Reassured she signed on for the voyage.
But now,
standing on the boat for the first time, Kathy wonders again if she has made
the right decision. Although it’s a beautiful spring day, the timing of the
trip still seems too early in the season, and she thinks there will likely
be some cold days and unpredictable weather out at sea. But that’s not
what’s really bothering her, and she can’t articulate the feeling. For a
moment she thinks about how to tell Tom she has decided not to go. But then
her strong sense of loyalty, commitment, and responsibility assert
themselves, and she tries to shoo the nagging feeling of uncertainty away.
Well, she says to herself, it’s too late to back out now. They’re
counting on me as a crewmember.
Tom and Loch
come up from below, and chat with Kathy and Chris for a few moments. The
captain explains that the fifth and final crewmember will be arriving soon,
and he shows the two new crewmembers more tasks that need to be done on
deck, and Kathy and Chris get busy. It’s mid-afternoon, and the scheduled
departure time is set for midnight to take advantage of the outgoing tides.
Tom shows Kathy the yellow emergency “ditch” canisters stored in a box on
the aft deck, and asks her to divide a carton of Power bars into each
container. Chris jokes to Kathy that she should slip in a few extra protein
bars in his bag because he gets cranky when he’s hungry. The two new
crewmembers then rig the running backstays, and attend to other minor tasks.
Chris and
Kathy later pause in their work and go below to ask Tom a question about the
equipment. Tom and Loch are giving the 4-cylinder, 65-horse power engine a
final check. Earlier they had filled the boat’s two fuel tanks with 180
gallons of diesel – enough fuel to power the vessel the entire trip to
Bermuda should the unlikely scenario of no wind occur. Kathy notices the
supplies and equipment scattered about, and has the feeling Tom is in a
rush, as he walks with her and Chris back up on deck. Having never been on
a lengthy offshore trip, Kathy tells herself the many last minute chores and
stowing of gear is normal but she worries Tom won’t have time to review the
boat’s equipment with her prior to departure. She wants to understand how
everything functions in as much detail as possible before the Almeisan
is underway.
The third
guest crewmember, Ron Burd, arrives at the boat and is able to dive right
into the work because he owns a sailboat and has made many trips up and down
the east coast, from his home in New Hampshire to Florida. He’s never
sailed to Bermuda, however, and wants to gain a little first-hand experience
before he makes the voyage with his own boat. Ron, an engineer, is the
oldest of the group, at age 70, but he’s in better shape than most men
twenty years younger. He has short gray hair, a neatly trimmed gray
beard, and is not prone to idle chatter, yet in his own reserved way, is
quite friendly.
At around 6
p.m. Tom calls the crew and they gather below. He explains that he and Loch
were cleaning up and that they not only had to stow away all the food and
supplies for the trip to Bermuda, but that they had to do the same for the
return trip. He shows the crew to their quarters so they can unpack their
gear. The interior of the Almeisan is crafted of teak and mahogany,
with two double berths and four single berths, each with an oscillating fan
and reading light. The salon has an L-shaped seating arrangement around a
dining table, as well as a fold-down chart table that can double as a
serving platform. A galley with a double sink, and two nearby heads
(bathrooms) with hot water and shower round out the crew’s quarters.
When the crew has stowed their personal gear they take a break for
sandwiches and talk about the trip and their backgrounds. These five
people – most of whom are total strangers to one another – slowly get to
know each other. For the next five or six days they will be confined
to a small space on a seemingly endless ocean. Getting along is
crucial on such a trip, but never guaranteed. After three or four days
a person’s idiosyncrasies can wear on the nerves of shipmates. Crews
can become surely, sullen, and irritable, making the captain’s job a
nightmare. On the other hand, discovering another person’s sense of humor,
knowledge, and life stories can form bonds that lead to life-long
friendships.
The crew does
not expect to receive radio messages or calls from loved ones once they are
underway, and Captain Tighe’s manual makes this clear; “Do not ask anyone to
call us in an emergency because they most likely will not be able to contact
us. There is nothing we will be able to do to help them, and their problem
will only cause you distress on your vacation.” It’s good advice, and Tom
wants his crew to understand the voyage is quite different than a day sail.
Nevertheless, Tom does have a coordinator and general helper on land,
logistician Donna Christman, and he will check in with her by radio every
other day. If an emergency arises on land, she will confer with Tom before
he decides how to tell the affected crewmember.
Of course the
crew will be busy for much of the trip, performing duties from cooking to
handling the sails, and a good chunk of time will be spent standing
four-hour watches. To the non-sailor the watch responsibilities may seem
overly regimented but the overriding reason for a watch is safety, and
Captain Tighe emphasizes the point. He requires the crewmember scheduled
for watch to report 15 minutes early, wear the orange watch hat, shoes and
safety harness, and carry a knife and whistle. Tom will post duties for
each assigned period, but on all shifts the person standing watch must keep
the yacht on course, be on the lookout for other ships and floating debris,
and plot the yacht’s present position in case the electronic navigation
equipment fails. On all night watches or in heavy weather, two people will
be on watch together.
After the sandwiches are consumed, Kathy is glad that the captain takes the
newcomers on a walk-through of the boat, explaining how each piece of
equipment is operated. Her focus intensifies when Tom discusses
emergency equipment and procedures, in part because she lost a close friend
at sea. Sailing alone, her friend was delivering a boat in the
Caribbean, and he was on a tight schedule. The National Weather
Service had been tracking a hurricane hundreds of miles away, and there was
a chance it could swing toward the region her friend was sailing in.
Rather than head toward the nearest port, the skipper weighed the odds, and
decided to continue to his originally planned destination. The
decision cost him his life when his boat capsized in the hurricane.
Tom first
shows the crew where the fire extinguishers, flashlights, life jackets, life
rings, life sling, and medical kit are located. Then he gives a basic
overview of the engine, the fuel and propane shut-off valves, battery
disconnect switches, and radios. The boat is equipped with an Emergency
Position Indicating Radio Beacon (EPIRB), and Tom explains that once it is
activated a signal is sent to a satellite, which relays the location of the
emergency to the Coast Guard. Next, Tom points out the location of the
rented life raft, which has a domed shaped canopy and ballast bags beneath
for added stability. Quoting from an old adage Tom says, “If you get off
the yacht to abandon ship, step up to the life raft.” In other words,
explains Tom, we only abandon the boat if it is actually sinking.
It is now 10
p.m., and there are still a couple hours before the high tide they want for
a favorable departure through Long Island Sound. Ron Burd is interested in
the engine, so he and Tom head back to the engine compartment and discuss
the pros and cons of the various motors they have used over the years. The
others put on sweatshirts and head top-side to take another look at the
cockpit. The wooden steering wheel, mounted waist high, dominates the
center of the cockpit, and a binnacle, the case that contains the
navigational instruments, is mounted forward of that. Above the binnacle,
facing the helmsman is the electronic navigation display, auto-pilot remote,
and sensors for wind, depth, and speed. Mounted on the hardtop ceiling
above the cockpit are the VHF transceiver, intercom, and small electronic
chart, which hangs from the ceiling on brackets.
The group
talks for a while longer, and it seems to Chris they’ve been at the dock for
a week. At 11:30 Tom announces it is close enough to midnight to get
underway. This gives a jolt of energy to the crew, who have grown weary
from the long day.
As they leave
Black Rock Harbor and begin heading east toward Montauk to round the eastern
tip of Long Island, the weather is so gentle there’s not even a breath of a
breeze. The ocean is unruffled and welcoming, and the stars above – one of
them with the same name as the boat – glitter more brightly as the
Almeisan motors away from the artificial lights of civilization. Now,
everyone is too excited to even think about sleep.
Chapter Two:
TOM AND LOCH
Before the Almeisan
left Black Rock Harbor, Captain Tighe made frequent climbs up the
companionway to check on the progress his new crew was making topside. He
had always felt the best way to really know a boat was through a hands-on
approach, which was also the quickest way to make the crew feel part of the
team. This also gave the captain a chance to gage each person’s true
sailing experience before they hit open water. He made safety his number
one priority, and if a crewmember needed a little extra help performing his
duties, Tom was more than happy to oblige.
Usually,
there were very few surprises from the crew because Tom conducted an
interview with each and every person who showed an interest in making the
voyage to Bermuda. He wanted sailors to know there might be hardships
during the sail, and that it was not going to be a week of pure relaxation.
Sometimes, all it took were a few minutes of conversation for Tom to realize
the prospective crewmember just wasn’t going to be the right fit, and he
would diplomatically tell them as much. Other times it would take a few
conversations to realize the person’s expectations and the reality of the
voyage differed. Having the crew read his manual was another way to see if
they were serious about the educational aspect of the trip or if they were
naively thinking that sailing 600 miles in a 45-foot boat was a piece of
cake. Tom certainly didn’t want a high-strung individual to come unglued if
they sailed into nasty weather. In some instances, he sensed a cockiness in
a sailor who seemed to give the manual and safety procedures lip service,
and Tom would weed that person out before any agreement was made. This
process of getting to know a potential crewmember prior to a trip was so
important that Tom insisted on conducting the interviews in person rather
than over the phone or by e-mail. By meeting face-to-face, Tom often found
the answer to one of his litmus test questions: “Is this person someone I’d
want to spend several days in a life raft with?” If the answer was no, he
looked for a different crewmember.
His
reputation in local sailing circles was one of complete competence, and many
sailors consulted him about everything from equipment to the weather. Tom
took seamanship seriously. But he also knew the therapeutic powers of
sailing, and this was an important aspect he hoped crewmembers would
discover while bluewater sailing – something totally different from the
grind of their daily lives. In fact he often tried to time the
Almeisan’s arrival at the Gulf Stream for evening, so that passengers
could see and sense the wonder of this moving mass of ocean.
The Gulf
Stream, with its warm water, often creates its own mini weather system,
especially along its western edge where it slides by the colder surrounding
water off the continental shelf. Sometimes, particularly at dusk, heat
lightning dances across the water or shoots from cloud to cloud. During the
daytime, Tom would encourage his crew to just lie back on the deck and watch
the strange cloud formations that constantly reshaped themselves over the
Gulf Stream. He wanted his crew to have a total experience while on the
Almeisan – education, adventure, camaraderie, and an appreciation for
nature.
Tom used the
trips as a way to share his knowledge, and he only asked that the crew
contribute to the cost of fuel, food, and the rented life raft. He simply
loved introducing a novice sailor to the new world of an offshore voyage,
and his outgoing personality and sense of humor made him a natural teacher.
Many of his passengers not only left his vessel with more confidence in
their seamanship, but also knowing more about themselves. Often they made
permanent friendships with crewmembers, and a few returned to the
Almeisan for several more trips to Bermuda.
And that was
how green-eyed Loch Reidy, age 58, became Tom’s first mate on this voyage.
Loch first met Tom in the late 1970s, after a friend of Loch’s had described
a fantastic sailing trip he took to Bermuda on a sailboat named the
Almeisan. The more Loch listened, the more the story reminded him
of his carefree days as a boy on Long Island near Little Neck Bay.
When he was just 16 years old Loch and his friends built a 24-foot sailboat
that they sailed and occasionally raced on Long Island Sound. Then
came college, followed by a two-year stint in the army, and the course of
his life took him away from sailing. He was married at age 21, and
soon became the father of two boys, Peter and Steven, supporting his family
as a technician for Southern New England Telephone.
Loch was 32
years old when he decided he had been away from the ocean for too long. His
marriage had ended in divorce, and he decided a long bluewater sailing trip
would be the perfect pick-me-up. Loch asked his friend for Tom Tighe’s
telephone number and called him up, and Tom had him put his name on the list
for the next trip.
Prior to the
voyage Tom interviewed Loch, and the two men hit it off. On Loch’s first
excursion on the Almeisan he felt like a teenager again, and was
surprised how well the crew of five strangers meshed. Then he realized
their amiability was not an accident but rather the result of Tom’s careful
screening. The crew had a real mix of experience from complete sailing
novices to sailors who owned their own boats, but everyone pitched in with
the work, and the five-day sail to Bermuda was a joy. Once in Bermuda, Tom
stayed on the boat and got her ready for the return trip, and a new crew,
while Loch and the rest of the outgoing crew left the Almeisan and
enjoyed the island, staying at hotels before catching a flight home.
The trip was such
a nice change of pace for Loch that the next year he did it again. Although
Tom lived in New York and Loch in Connecticut, they got together
occasionally in the off-season to talk about sailing and their plans for the
summer. Before long, Loch was helping Tom at his Bermuda Bound Sailing
Seminars, and was on the Bermuda voyage nearly every year. Loch began to
know the workings of the Almeisan almost as well as Tom, and it was
natural that on the trips he made, he would be the first mate, helping to
train new crews and answering their many questions. He was soft-spoken and
unassuming, and novice sailors valued his patience. The May 2005 trip would
be Loch’s 16th voyage with Tom, and every year he seemed to
appreciate those days at sea with an increasing sense of gratitude. In the
few years he missed the trip Loch felt his summer was incomplete.
Both Tom and Loch
had easy-going personalities, quick minds that could solve almost any
problem, including technical ones, and, of course, a love of the sea. From
a distance the men might even pass as brothers – both had a mix of gray
brown hair and were about 5’9” tall with heavy-set builds. Tom, however
wore glasses, and at 65, was seven years older than Loch, and although quite
active for his age, he did confide in Loch that he wanted to slow down a
bit, and this would be his last voyage to Bermuda. The return trip would
mark his 50th passage, and he thought that would be a nice round
number to finish on.
Loch was now
re-married. His two sons were grown and on their own, and Loch and his
second wife, Sandra, were raising their own daughter, Ashley, who was 13.
Sandra also had a daughter Denise, from an earlier marriage, and Denise
enjoyed Loch’s company so much she accompanied Loch on two Almeisan
voyages to Bermuda in her earlier 20s. Ashley had been day sailing on the
Almeisan and like her step-sister wanted to make the trip to Bermuda
with her father. Loch, however, felt she was a bit young for the passage,
and told her she would get her chance soon enough.
* * *
Now, with the hectic pace of
the last day’s preparations behind him, and the boat underway, Loch relaxes
in the cockpit of the Almeisan, chatting with the Ron, Kathy, and
Chris. He tells himself, Tom’s done it again, he’s put together just the
right crew.
Loch thinks that the only thing that would make these first hours of the
voyage even better would be the sound of sails fluttering rather than the
drone of the diesel engine. But the stars are out, the company is
good, and Loch thinks about the fun days ahead. He wonders if Tom really
will “retire” from making these Bermuda trips, knowing if he does, this may
be his own farewell voyage as well.
As the
excitement of getting underway subsides, crewmembers not on watch drift
below for sleep. The Almeisan is motoring almost due east, directly
across the placid waters of Long Island Sound. In five days, if all goes
well, they will dock in St. Georges, Bermuda.
Chapter Three:
A WARNING
Sunshine streams down on the Almeisan
on Wednesday morning as the boat turns south, passing through Plum Gut off
Long Island’s Orient Point. By noon the Almeisan rounds the tip
of Long Island at Montauk and is now in the open waters of the North
Atlantic, heading in a southeasterly direction. The gray seas are
relatively calm, with wave heights of one to two feet, and the air is still,
dashing the crews hopes that they would be able to raise some sails once
outside of Long Island Sound.
Ron Burd
especially wants wind, and he even hopes for a bit of heavy weather, wishing
to learn all he can from Tom – in all kinds of conditions – before he
attempts to make a similar offshore voyage on his own boat. The former
Marine and businessman has recently retired, selling his civil engineering
company in New Hampshire, and he finally has time to spend more days on the
water.
Ron perks up when
he hears Tom on the radio, talking to a ketch traveling north. Tom learns
that the ketch is heading to Nova Scotia, and he jokes to the passing
captain that they are going the wrong way, meaning the warm weather is
behind them. The captain on the other boat, however, is dead serious when
he responds, “No, you’re going the wrong way. There’s a low pressure
system forming off the Carolinas.”
Tom already
knows about this forecast, and answers, “Well, we’ll take the good with the
bad.”
Tom and Loch know
the low pressure system is expected to move due north, just off the
coastline. They estimate that by the time the low is as far north as the
Almeisan’s position, they will be well to the east of the low pressure’s
center, and out of danger.
The crew has
listened to the exchange between the captains on the radio, and Tom assures
them that if a gale does take shape, the Almeisan will be a safe
distance away. He explains that during many of his Bermuda trips he
encounters heavy weather, and the Almeisan is more than capable of
getting through it. He does not volunteer specifics about the weather
forecasts he’s heard, and Ron and Chris don’t dwell on the ominous words of
the captain from the other sailboat. Kathy, however, finds it difficult to
do the same. Her thoughts go back to her friend who drowned when he tried
to stay on schedule while sailing. We’re just off Montauk, she tells
herself, we can go into port at New York City. Kathy knows she’s the
only one thinking this, but still considers asking Tom to drop her off in
New York. Then, her sense of responsibility and obligation pushes that
thought away.
That evening Tom
serves a lobster stew his wife made just prior to the trip. The seas are
still tranquil, almost glassy, and the air temperature is a comfortable 65
degrees. Loch is talking about the approaching sunset and explains how he
once saw the unusual green flash that sometimes occurs at the moment the sun
dips below the watery horizon. “And when we get to the Gulf Stream, it has
its own micro-climate. Not only is the water warmer, but the air also.
Each crossing is different, but all of them – at least for me – are
extraordinary experiences.” He explains that one of the main reasons he
takes this yearly trip, is that nothing else can rival the feeling of being
this close to nature.
On Thursday
morning, there’s a hint of wind, and the crew is upbeat as they watch
dolphins race in the bow wave of the boat and whales breaching off the port
side, making Loch’s comments about nature seem prescient. Under motor, the
Almeisan makes about six knots, continuing on its southeast course.
By late morning, a bit of breeze blows, and the crew is finally able to set
the mainsail. A three to four foot swell rolls beneath the boat, rocking it
gently from side to side. Tom explains that they will soon be crossing the
continental shelf, and he keeps the motor running, knowing they are a bit
behind schedule.
Everyone is enjoying themselves, but Kathy continues to be concerned about
the low pressure system coming up the coast. She keeps the worry to
herself, not wanting to put a damper on the good mood and great chemistry of
the crew. Still, she can’t help but pay close attention to the marine
weather reports occasionally announced on the radio. And even though
she does not fully understand what is being said in regards to the various
geographic positions given on the broadcast, she hears enough to know that
the ride is going to be a lot rougher in the coming days.
Tom, sensing
her apprehension, tells her not to lose any sleep over it, and to let him
worry about the weather. Ever prudent, though, Tom has the crew make
preparations for heavy weather. The anchor
rode, tag tk, is
disconnected from the Danforth anchor so that the rode
can be stowed
below deck, while the anchor is secured to the bow pulpit. Spinnaker
halyards are secured to the bulwark, and hatches are dogged down. When the
work is done, Kathy, Ron and Chris pass a couple hours playing cards, while
Tom and Loch stand watch.
Tom makes beef stew for dinner, and everyone, except Chris, enjoys the meal.
Chris is feeling queasy – the first inkling of seasickness is upon him – as
the swells grow to four feet. He tries to stay active, plotting the
Gulf Stream on the chart, and stowing the trash on the aft deck in an orange
nylon bag tied to the rail. But by 8 p.m. – about the time it begins
raining – Chris is vomiting. He is not prone to seasickness, but is so
ill he is unable to stand watch. Going below deck only makes his
nausea worse, so he remains in the cockpit, spending much of the time lying
on the deck.
Kathy feels fine physically, but seeing Chris become seasick, coupled with
the rising seas, brings back her sense of unease. She asks Tom about
the latest weather forecast, and he again says it’s nothing to worry about,
reminding her that they are approaching the Gulf Stream where it typically
gets a little rough. She isn’t buying the explanation, but instead
thinks they are feeling the leading edge of the storm.