[Public-List] A cautionary tale

[Gordon Laco via Public-List]

Hello gang,

As I think many of you know, part of my work portfollio is owning a company
called Voyager Self Steering Inc.   I deal with a lot of people making
interesting expeditions and have to say part of my interesting in the
company is that I get to help real sailors make ambitious expeditions.

Most are happy stories, but this season there was one that wasn¹t so happy,
although I¹m glad to say that there was no loss of life.  It¹s a cautionary
tale that every sailor should be aware of when planning an ocean voyage.
Here¹s what happened.

A recently retired fellow decided he wanted to sail to Ireland, the land of
his birth, from his home on the Great Lakes.  He had a good idea what he was
getting into, having a life time of sailing behind him, and having a son who
has done quite ambitious voyaging up the coast of Greenland.  This fellow,
who I¹ll call Seamus, bought a well proven type of full keeled yacht (not an
A30) a few years ago and began refitting it for the voyage.  I came on the
scene when he ordered a Voyager for it.

I saw the boat early this past summer when I installed the vane ­ the boat
was in some dissarray and Seamus was clearly exhausted, but I¹ve come to see
that sort of thing is fairly normal when one is preparing for a fixed
departure date after a major refit.  He had new sails arriving, new rigging,
had had a new diesel and it¹s associated systems installed the year before,
and a mountain of gear was being stowed into the boat.  Seamus seemed tired,
but he was alert, was making sound decisions, and I admired him.

After the vane was installed and tested, I decided to tell him something
I¹ve told many sailors preparing for a departure.  I described how the
ancient Chinese used to publish a date for the departure of a ship...they¹d
have the big event on the date, then the ship would sail around to another
nearby harbour in which to complete fitting out and go when she was ready.
Seamus laughed and said St Brendan probably did that too.  When we discussed
a Œwork up¹ voyage (Œshake down¹ in the USA) he told me with his soft Irish
accent ŒGordy, it¹s 850 bloomin miles to the sea from here, I¹ll have lots
of time to finish anything not done when I leave¹.  I agreed he was correct.

He got away, and I heard various reports from him or his family as he made
his way to the sea.  Incredibly, I saw him in his boat passing Quebec City
when I was there for an event for the arrival of a sailing ship I¹d
outfitted for her voyage home to Canada from France.  I was being
interviewed by a CBC reporter when over the reporter¹s shoulder I saw him
chugging by the break wall under power.... Unfortunately he didn¹t see or
hear me try to call to him once I was finished the interview.

I next heard he was in Charlettown PEI, then St John¹s Newfoundland.  Then,
about Labour Day, I got a short email from him reporting he was back in St
John¹s having been rescued by a Canadian Coast Guard Cormorant helicopter.
I looked online and saw the video... There was his boat with the Voyager
faithfully steering her on a reach.  His headsail was blown to ribbons but
things didn¹t looked so bad.  The video showed him leap overboard in order
to have the helijumper secure the lifting gear to him.  I saw what looked
like an oil slick come off his foul weather gear as he entered the
water...hmm, what¹s that, I thought.

Seamus told me that he had been battered for three days by a hard blow, that
he wasn¹t having much fun but was basically coping.  Then his new diesel
fuel tank burst and flooded his bilges with oil.  In no time everything in
the boat, including him, was coated with diesel fuel.  The stink was
overpowering, everything above and below decks became so slippery he could
hardly move.  He endured this for another day or so but finally called for
help.  Luckily he was only a couple hundreds of miles offshore so in no time
he was safe, but he¹d had to abandon his yacht.

Imagine what he¹s thinking about the tank¹s installer.  Imagine what he¹s
asking himself about what he might have done to double check?  When you¹re
going to sea, well, that¹s the real thing.  Good intentions or friendly
assumptions don¹t count for anything.  Nothing matters when the chips are
down but thorough integrity in all things.  Perhaps that¹s the purest
definition of good seamanship.  Thorough integrity in all things.

Gord #426 Surprise