After the sinking storm passed the hull was full of water. I only had about a foot of freeboard. The electronics, engine, and pumps were swamped. The mast was gone at the cabin top and the rigging with the remains of the sails, mast and boom were trailing and tangled all over the place. The hand pump in the cockpit was functional, but inadequate for anything but to keep me filled with hope and give me a bit of exercise. I went below and it was a mess as you might imagine. Almost everything was ruined except for a case of sardines (dont ask), two bottles of vodka (for medicinal use), a gallon jug of water, and four bottles of wine. When examining the navigation station I saw that the radio had a faint glow on the dial so I shakingly grabbed the mic. and put out an SOS with my best known coordinates (I only had a vague idea where the storm had blown me as every piece of nav. equip was gone or ruined including the damn GPS which I hated anyway). I put on a brave face, screwed up my courage and concocted a schedule to pump, eat a certain amount of sardines, drink a bit of water, vodka, and wine every so often and decided to live. The pelagic sharks came every evening to check on me about dinner time and circled the boat for an hour or so looking up at me from the tremendous foot and a half or two foot of freeboard I had gained with the hand pump. Their cold, hungry, menacing eyes became very familiar to me. I was getting to be in pretty bad shape after six days of this. I had been knocked about a bit in the storm and the boat had turned turtle (45 foot Creekmore), and the diet wasnt doing me that much good, especially after the water ran out and all I had was vodka and wine to sip. I was dreaming about being in a rain storm in the center of a great, dark city and hearing people calling to me as I slept on the foredeck half alive. I opened my eyes and there was a great black building next to me, tremendously huge and the boat was bashing up against it with every wave. As I lay on my back marveling at this living dream I saw four or five figures on top of the building many stories up calling and waving to me. Ropes and a cool rope ladder/net thing were thrown down to me, but I was too weak to grab hold and climb up the side of the building which turned out to be a tremendous tanker that had heard a faint SOS and decided to investigate since I was very near the shipping lanes. Long story short, I was saved, taken aboard, conveyed to the owners quarters (he and his family lived in New Orleans), was nursed back to health, treated like a prince, returned to New Orleans where I met and became good friends with the ship owner and his family. It changed my life in such a wonderful way and Ill never forget being helped to my feet on the deck of the tanker when one of the crew pointed over the rail at my boat as it went down into the deep next to the big ship, bow first so gracefully with the sails I had rigged for her still sailing under water as it journeyed into the darkness of the deep blue sea until she vanished into the night of my memory.
Posted on: Tue, 02 Dec 2014 03:58:55 +0000