"Eyrie"
(If you want to go directly to the rescue skip "Eyrie" and scroll down to "Heatwave")
The race started out well enough with lightish winds that took us as far as Point Bonita.
(photos by Synthia)
As Synthia wrote to our friend Skip today: "We got caught in the washing machine gyre at Pt. Bonita, with little wind and a very strong flood except the little bit of stale ebb right up against the rocks. It was incredible to be mixing it up with so many doublehanded sailboats sized from a Santana 22 up to +50' monsters, going every which way, but no yelling and no collisions!!"
"The ones who stuck closest to the rocks finally made it through and the trick was to keep eking north along the coast."
"At one point we were about mid Bonita channel when we got a serious header so we tacked over to stbd and before we could get the boat (and crew) dialed into the new tack and wave angle we were almost swept back to the 4 Fathom Bank buoy. So back over to port and creeping our way along the coast. It was a beautiful day and sail, the coastal mts were beautiful and we normally don't sail so close and so slow for so long, so we were enjoying ourselves enough to just keep racing."
Most of the fleet dropped out by 2:00 p.m. due to the washing machine conditions at Bonita. A few boats broke free of the bad current and windless zone early and managed to round the islands, probably around 5:00 p.m. Another group of boats, ourselves included, stubbornly refused to throw in the towel. We finally broke free of Point Bonita around 3:00, headed up the North coast in pleasant breeze and flat conditions.
At that time our ETA according the Greta (Garmin, the GPS) was 4:00 a.m. the next morning, but as the wind filled in over the next hour the ETA dropped to 1:00 a.m., then 11:00 p.m., then 9:00 p.m. We became optimistic, could we make it around the rock tonight? We figured if we rounded by 7:00 p.m. we would have a good chance of finishing. When Greta told us at 4:00 p.m. that our ETA was 7:15 we let out a whoop and determined we could finish this crazy race.
Over the next hour as we worked our way toward the Lightship, the winds built to the mid teens and the sea swell started become high and steep. I figure we were seeing about 12 ft swells, not that bad, but they were every 8 seconds and becoming steeper and steeper. As the wind whipped up we could see an additional 2-3 feet of wind chop added to the swells. Also, they were coming from two different directions, another challenge.
The sea state was affecting our speed, and even with a reefed main to balance out the boat we were losing ground on the Farallones. We agreed that with the wind and waves as they were we didn't want to round the island at night. We would have to sail a wider distance around to avoid the monster waves we feared would be crashing against the island. At 5:00 Greta told us our new ETA was 8:00 p.m. and so, only 11 miles from the Farallones, we made the difficult decision to turn around.
We hate to quit races.
Synthia was in a bit of a funk as I blathered obnoxiously, trying to convince myself that we had made the right choice. Her only escape was to go below, warm up a bit, and eat a bit of dinner leaving me up top to steer down the huge swells with both hands on the tiller. As the wind got into the 20s and the swells grew Eyrie surfed down the waves, great fun really. About half an hour later Synthia took over to give me a chance to warm up and give my burning forearms a rest.
I tried to steady myself below but the boat jerked and careened crazily; why was she driving like a madwoman? I popped my head out to see what was up; where the sun should have been was instead a huge wave, hissing and angry, threatening to break on top of us. As the boat flew down the wave I looked at the anemometer, now reading 29 knots. I put in the hatchboards in case we got "pooped" and joined Synthia on deck so as not to miss out on the fun.
After our exhilerating trip home we sailed back under the Gate around 7:45, it was warm and breezy inside the bay. We turned on Leona (Helms-alee, the autopilot), made rum drinks and pulled out the snacks. We were bummed about not finishing the race but we'd had a fun day of sailing with a little excitement thrown in.
"Heatwave"
A little over a half hour later we heard the Race Committee talking to the Coast Guard, one of our competitors had capsized out in the ocean! We heard that the boat was Heatwave. We listened as the Coastie on the radio spoke to the sailors. Amazingly they had their handheld VHF and were communicating with her. We could hear the ominous crackle of their radio but we couldn't make out their words. The radio coastie was impressive, she epitomized calm as she persisted in her questions to the racers. "Heatwave, are there two of you on the boat? Where is the other victim? Heatwave, where is the other victim?" We couldn't hear the answer and Syn and I stared at each other, unwilling to voice the obvious question, were there two or was there only one left?
Equally impressive was the voice of the Race Committee; he must have been horrified and in a panic, but his voice maintained equilibrium throughout and he "calmly" finished the few remaining boats, sounding relieved as they came close enough to radio in their finish.
Ms. Coastie coordinated the rescue effort while maintaining radio contact with Heatwave. The first vessel on the scene was a tug towing a barge. He radioed back that he had located Heatwave between buoys 7 and 8 in the shipping channel. Since he was towing a barge he was unable to render assistance but he would stand by while waiting for the rescue vessels. In a gruff, weathered voice he indicated that Heatwave had canvas up but was overturned. He could see one person.
A short time later we heard another voice, this time it was a Coast Guard vessel readying itself for deployment. They said it would take them about 15 minutes to reach Heatwave. Would the sailors be able to withstand the rough conditions and hypothermia for another 15 (or probably more) minutes? They had now already been in the water, in the dark and in breaking waves, for about 30 minutes. I felt sick to my stomach at the thought of our fellow competitors out in those rough conditions.
Meanwhile Syn and I had somberly put most of the boat away prior to reaching South Beach. We didn't want to talk and risk missing any updates to the rescue. Suddenly we heard a new voice, it was the captain of a pilot boat who was nearby and was also making his way toward the overturned boat. It sounded like there was a bit of confusion in finding the exact location, thankfully the tug captain was standing by and was able to direct the two vessels, the Pilot boat and the Coast Guard's, to Heatwave's exact location. We listened as they tried to locate the sailors. A voice asked Heatwave to shine a light on themselves or to flash a light in the direction of the rescue vessels. The voice persisted, "Where is the second victim? Where is the second victim?"
As we wordlessly docked our boat a Coast Guard helicopter flew overhead. We listened intently, hoping for some sort of update. We opened our bottle of Sailor Jerry and glumly poured out shots. "Radio silence," Synthia whispered, "I wonder what it means?"
Meanwhile, up at the yacht club, a huge lobster dinner was in full swing. The incongruity of the conga-line and drunken merriment juxtaposed with the life-threatening rescue was just weird.
A moment later we were snapped back to our particular reality as we heard the skipper of the Pilot Boat radio to the Coast Guard, the Pilot Boat had retrieved one victim and had him on board. Syn and I sat frozen, was he alive? What was his condition? Where was the second sailor? As if hearing us the skipper reported the victim was covered with blankets and was hypothermic. It seemed like an eternity but at last we heard the Coast Guard vessel radio that they had retrieved the second victim, again no other information except that "the victim" was retrieved. The tugboat captain congratulated both the pilot ship and the coast guards on a rescue well-done.
Syn and I quietly packed our gear bags and continued to listen to the radio. We finally heard that both sailors were alive and seemed OK, but beyond that we had no information. Based on radio talk between the pilot boat skipper and the Coast Guard it sounded like the Coast Guard helicopter may have lifted the first sailor off the Pilot boat, but I can't be certain of it. Shortly afterward Ms. Coastie made her concluding transmission that both victims had been retrieved and the rescue was over.
Synthia and I read the list of competitors and noted that Heatwave was a J-80, a 27' light boat (not a pig like our 28' Hawkfarm). Typically monohulls won't turtle unless their keels fall off or some similar disaster happens. We finished our shots of rum and discussed the various scenarios that could cause such a thing to happen.
When I finally got home at 11:00 I continued to obsess about all that I had heard earlier that night. I still couldn't believe that two sailors could possibly have been rescued after dark and in such challenging conditions. I was amazed that the sailors were smart enough to have had a handheld radio in their pocket and that they had the wherewithall to keep it together during their rescue. (I later found out they did NOT have the radio in their pocket, read their account below for the incredible details.) I was amazed at the race committee's ability to maintain their cool during such an incredibly stressful incident. I was amazed at Ms. Coastie's calm but persistent coordination of the rescue. I was amazed that three vessels and one helicopter were able to work together in crappy conditions and deep darkness to rescue two sailors from a small overturned boat.
I poured myself a big Stoli on the rocks and sat for two hours going over what-ifs. What if Heatwave didn't have their handheld VHF? Would anyone have seen them floating in the dark in time to save them? Doubtful. What if one or both of them had drifted away from the boat? What if they had been trapped underneath? What if the tug hadn't been nearby? What if the boat had sunk?
I slept fitfully and woke up early this morning and Heatwave was my first thought of the day. I checked the Coast Guard website and was relieved to read that both sailors were alive (see bulletin below), but I still have not been able to get Heatwave out of my head.
Last night (!) one of the rescued sailors posted his story on Sailing Anarchy. (Also copied below)
An ironic twist to this is that the Race Committee on the radio, Gary Helms, was rescued in 1995 when his boat capsized at the Farallone Islands. Read the Race Organizer's statement below.
Here is a picture of Heatwave during the race taken by Rich Hudnut on Cinnabar.
1) RESCUED SAILOR'S STORY:
Yes we're both very glad we are ok. It was a very scary experience and I don't wish it on anyone. I was amazed when my buddy (Dave Wilhite) dove under the overturned boat to recover our VHF radio from a sheet bag. That's what saved our lives for sure.I think I spent about an hour trying to stand on top of the boat leaning against the rudder talking to the coast guard on the VHF and holding a flashlight over my head. To answer some of your questions - The keel did fall off. We were going really fast down a very large wave with a reefed main and the jib. All of a sudden I had no helm and the boat turned 90 degrees (very weird thing to have happen when you are going fast and actually a little low - i didn't feel i was in danger of wiping out at that angle and speed at all, we had been doing it for hours). The boat turned 90 very quickly and the wave we were riding broke over us and rolled the boat. At the beginning of the roll we heard what sounded like a tree cracking and falling down. That would have been the keel falling clean off. We were left in the water, teathered to the jack lines under the boat. We ended up cutting our teathers so we didn't get dragged under.About an hour later and lots of talking on the radio, 2 coast guard boats, a pilot boat and a helicopter all found us at the same time. They tossed us a line and I got my buddy off the boat as he was much colder than me due to the fact that he had been in the water the whole time while I was standing on the boat (though I think i got washed off the boat about 50 times). Then another coast guard boat told me to swim to them so I did. Neither of us have any serious injuries, just lots of bruises and pretty sore bodies. The coast guard did a great job of finding us and getting us to safety, lots of thanks go out to them.-David Servais.
2) COAST GUARD BULLETIN:
Two rescued after sailboat capsizes during race
Eleventh Coast Guard District
NEWS RELEASE
DATE:
CONTACT:
March 28, 2009
Public Affairs (510) 772-8865
Two rescued after sailboat capsizes during race
SAN FRANCISCO -- Two people were rescued after their sailboat capsized during the 11th annual Doublehanded Farallones Race held today.
At 8:23 p.m., the Coast Guard received a call for help over the radio from the crew of the sailing vessel Heat Wave. The Heat Wave, a 27-foot sailboat, capsized eight miles off the shore of the San Francisco Bay with two people aboard. Both crewmembers were wearing lifejackets when they entered the water.
One of the sailors was picked up by a 47-foot rescue boat from Station Golden Gate and the other was picked up by the Pilot Boat California. Both were rescued at approximately 9:20 p.m. A rescue helicopter from Air Station San Francisco also assisted in the search and rescue operation.
The sailors were treated for hypothermia and transferred to awaiting emergency medical services at Coast Guard Station Golden Gate near the Marin headlands.
The wearing of lifejackets and carrying a handheld VHF radio helped save these two sailors lives and the Coast Guard reminds all boaters the importance of safe boating practices. All boaters are encouraged to have lifejackets for every person aboard a boat and to also carry immersion suits, day and night flares, and handheld VHF radios.
The Doublehanded Farallones Race starts near the Golden Gate Yacht Club and goes out and around the Southeast Farallone Island and back to the starting line, an approximate distance of 58 miles.
3) RACE COMMITTEE STATEMENT:
On Behalf Of Randy Devol Sent: Sunday, March 29, 2009 12:59 PM To: BAMA Mail List Subject: [Bama] Status of Heatwave Greetings everyone! As many of you already know, in yesterday’s Doublehanded Farallones Race, the J-80 Heatwave capsized, putting both crew in the water. The event got quite a bit of coverage in the radio and TV news shows. The great news is that both sailors were pulled from the water safely, with only mild hypothermia. Race Chairman Gary Helms spoke with David Wilhite, the skipper from Heatwave, and reports the following: Heatwave was about 2 miles west of the Golden Gate Bridge, heading toward the bay, at about about 8:15 PM, when they felt Heatwave shudder and begin to roll wildly from side to side, before capsizing. The keel had fallen or broken off. David recovered the handheld VHF from the overturned cockpit, and then called the Coast Guard for assistance. In the dark with no source of light, it took the Coast Guard an unusually long time to reach them. In all, David and his crew, David Servais, spent about 1 hour either in the water, or in soaked clothes sitting on top of the overturned hull, which was slowly sinking. One David was pulled from the water by the Coast Guard, and the other David was recovered by a SF Bay Pilot Boat, which, apparently, is extremely well equipped for just such a recovery. Both were taken to the Goast Guard Golden Gate Station and treated for hypothermia. Both are expected to return to their homes in Bellingham, Washington today. I do not know the fate of Heatwave, itself. The official public statement from the Coast Guard is here: https://www.piersystem.com/go/doc/823/263772/ And, by the way, the results are up on the BAMA website. Be sure to click on the "Refresh" button on your browser. -=O=- Randy Devol 2009 DHF PRO
