Cruising Life: The Best Stories from Caribbean Compass

I  first read Ruth’s article about going overboard when it was first published in the Caribbean Compass back in 1999.

It was an amazing story and I wondered if I could possibly be as resourceful as Ruth if something like that happened to me. Before I went cruising, I thought if  anything bad happened out on the sea, well, there is no way I could possibly cope.

Once cruising though I began to learn however, that occasionally the inthinkable does occur (as it does on land as well), and I started meeting people who had coped with all sorts of emergencies  and survived.

This knowledge of course doesn’t make you complacent, in my case it made me less panicked and more able to think: what is the best way to avoid a major problem, and how should we respond in an emergency.

We all eagerly await the monthly arrival of the Caribbean Compass in the anchorages down island, and it is a special achievement to have an article published in the Caribbean Compass. Probably nothing gives a truer picture of what Caribbean cruising is like in all its variety than  the articles that Sally Erdle, editor and former circumnavigator publishes in the Compass.

Thank you Sally Erdle and Rona Beame for putting together a book of all the best stories from the Compass! I am sure I have missed some of these stories the first time around, and others like Ruth’s, I was glad to have the chance to reread again and be amazed.

— Kathy Parsons, Women and Cruising

We were sailing our Morgan 41,  Sea Dream I,  from Grenada to Antigua. The Christmas Winds had arrived early and were in force. We’d had a truly awful  night sailing from Carriacou to St. Lucia — black as the inside of an elephant  with winds that never dropped below 30 knots, plus hourly squalls of 40 to 45  knots.

In spite of all that, my husband, Vern, and I  weren’t expecting what hit us just north of Martinique: a squall with 55-knot  winds and gusts to 60. It lasted only ten minutes, but felt like ten hours as we clung grimly to the wheel.

The main blew out and then, once the winds calmed  down to only 40 knots, Vern noticed a line trailing along the lee side of the  boat. I was upset to realize that it was all that was left of our Fortress  anchor. We had lost 100 feet of chain and 200 feet of rode. A lot of water must  have come over the bow during the squall, with enough force to lift the pawl  off the windlass gypsy and let the anchor run.

With the main blown, we needed the engine and  didn’t want any lines tangling in the prop. Vern said, “Be very, very careful!”  as I went out on deck and up forward to haul the line in.

I was sitting on the  foredeck with the windlass between my knees and one hand on the windward  lifeline — and them suddenly I wasn’t!  Sea Dream  and I had parted company. It’s a distressing  sensation being run over by your home, but somehow I managed to kick out from  under the hull before I got aft to the propeller.

Vern brought the boat around immediately and I  was expecting to be run down again, but managed to grab the trailing anchor  rode, which immediately pulled me underneath the boat again. Even with the  engine out of gear and a blown-out main, 40 knots of wind and six- to  eight-foot seas push a boat along at a fair clip and I couldn’t hang on without  being dragged under. The next time Vern came for me he threw the jibsheet over  the side. That was better, as I could let myself trail aft of the boat and not  be sucked under the hull.

The next thing I remember was trying to climb aboard using the rudder extension for the wind-vane oar. I still had the  figure-eight stop knot of the jibsheet tight in my right fist. Vern was  standing at the stern knotting a line to hand to me. I got as far as standing  on the rudder with both hands on the rubrail, moved one hand to grip anything  that wasn’t slippery with salt and away I went again. Seconds later Vern had  the line ready to throw — and couldn’t see me.

By this time it was 0900 hours, which meant we  were 12 or 15 miles north of St. Pierre, which we’d left at 0600. Vern put out  a “Mayday” on VHF channel 16, which was heard by at least two sailboats and the  girls at the reception desk of the Anchorage Hotel in Dominica. But two other  sailboats that were close to us heard nothing. (When they saw our sailboat  going in circles didn’t they wonder if there was a problem? At least with the  seamanship?) The two boats sailed serenely past, without changing course for a  closer look.

It occurred to me that I’d be more visible  waving a flag, and I tried waving my T-shirt. It’s a knee-length red beach  cover-up and, dry, would make an excellent signaling device. Wet, not so great.  Try some time waving a soaking wet T-shirt overhead while swimming in six- to eight-foot seas! It’s heavy, for a start.

I stretched it out between my hands and threw it  into the air as I reached the top of a wave, but I didn’t have much hope. A successful sighting would have required me being on top of a wave, Sea  Dream being on the top of a wave and  Vern looking in exactly the right direction, all at the same time. It didn’t  work. I decided to put the shirt back on for modesty’s sake.

Vern circled for an hour, searching for me. It didn’t take me long to find out that with the wind pushing it, Sea Dream was drifting off faster than I could follow, so I stopped trying. We’d joked once that if I fell overboard he should just carry on to the next island and I’d swim in, so I headed for Dominica. I’d lost my glasses in the fall overboard but could see Dominica. Martinique was lost in squalls and rain. I turned my back to the wind and swam.

Vern, meanwhile, was having a perfectly awful day. For one thing, it was the first time he’d single-handed in the nearly 12  years since we retired aboard. At least the winds hadn’t piped up to 55 knots again, but with the blown sail down to the reef point and having to stand on the cockpit coaming to reach the reefing lines Vern didn’t have much to hang onto. He was nearly overboard himself more than once. (Which would have been a real disaster as he has negative buoyancy, as do about three percent of all people. Unlike me, he carries no built-in flotation.) At last he controlled the sail and headed north (in Dominica they speak English) to organize a search. But all the way, he was trying to work out how to break the news to my family that I had drowned.

It took Sea Dream until nearly 1700 to get close to Roseau, when three local men in a boat came out almost a mile to welcome Vern to the island and offer help. He certainly needed it! In moments Brian, James and Darryl were aboard. Brian was on the radio to the Coast Guard to report my loss, since Vern doesn’t hear well and couldn’t understand the questions they asked. Darryl was right inside the chain locker reeving the second anchor chain through the primary hawse so the boat could be anchored, and James was on the stern preparing lines to carry ashore to a palm tree.

My day was much easier. I knew I was fine, and  could tell Vern was still aboard and coping because the boat was under control.

The funniest things go through your head when you’re swimming alone between islands. Mostly I was furious for making whatever elementary mistake let me fall overboard in the first place. All kinds of thoughts went through my head: “I guess I’ll never get those Christmas cards written after all” and “Don’t start throwing away my business-card collection,  Vern, because I’ll be back!” and “I suppose he’ll be spending our life savings on a helicopter search…”

A jellyfish tentacle wrapped around my arm and I picked it off and said, “Not now, I haven’t the time!” right out loud. A dolphin swam by 30 or 40 feet away and that was a thrill, finally to swim with a dolphin, even if it was only for a second or two. A small container ship came past about a quarter of mile away, heading west, then changed course to the north, going around me exactly as if I were a pivot.

Of all possible ways to die, drowning would be my least favorite, so I didn’t. Besides, Vern had his first wife for 32 years and I could scarcely demand equal time if I weren’t around. It was necessary to stay afloat.

I thought of all the things that I’d be leaving unfinished, and shrugged. There were no regrets except for the stack of unanswered letters; some we’d even taken to Canada with us and brought back still unanswered. I was glad I hadn’t skimped on telling family and friends I love them. I was glad I hadn’t been tethered to the boat, as I’d have been battered on the way over the side or dragged under the hull until I drowned. I’d taken on quite enough water just trying to hang on by the broken anchor rode.

Just at noon, I saw a sailboat heading my way and thought, “Can’t be Vern; he doesn’t have a jib out.” Soon the boat was so close that if a wave hadn’t smacked the bow aside I’d have been run over again!

I yelled “Hey, can you see me?” but they already had. Anthony said, “There’s someone in the water!” and Justin had looked around to see who was missing. From there, the rescue was textbook perfect. Anthony never took his eyes off me as Justin managed the jib and brought Enchantress around to circle me. Her dinghy was out on a very long painter and they maneuvered it around so I could grab hold. I told them I was very tired, which was not strictly true, and would need a ladder to get aboard, which was true. I’ve never been able to climb out of the sea into an inflatable dinghy, so I just clung on to theirs until they put a ladder down. Then they towed the dinghy in, threw me a line to knot around my chest and towed me to the foot of the ladder. I was soon aboard and provided with a dry towel that was colour-coordinated to my red T-shirt.

Enchantress had a touchy transmit button on the VHF radio and so used a hand-held unit to tell their companion boat, Natasha,  that they’d picked up a hitch-hiker. On  Natasha,  Federica passed messages on to anyone who would take them — to let Vern know I was fine, to stop him initiating an expensive search, and to get him some help securing the boat in harbour. The message went through to  Sudiki, a Gulfstar 50 sistership to  Enchantress. (While Federica was on the radio, a female French voice broke in to tell her to get off channel 16 as it is for emergency and rescue! When I met James and “Freddy” later, I asked her what she had said in reply and got a flood of Italian. Though I didn’t understand, I suspect there is a Frenchwoman around with a blistered ear.)

Enchantress and Natasha were headed for Fort-de-France. I badly wanted to go to Dominica and nearly asked to be thrown back in, but common sense prevailed. As soon as we arrived, Justin took me ashore to ask about ferry times. No luck, as the depot was closed tight. Next it was back to the dock nearest the anchorage. He went off to find a policeman to report me to, and I went to Customs on the off chance that it might be open.

A lovely young bride was posing for photographs in the garden as I trudged through, barefoot, blowsy, tousled, salty and myopic — with luck I walked behind all the family cameras. Customs was shut, and I spent a frustrating quarter-hour with the French phone system, discovering that it’s impossible to find an operator. The only toll-free number to answer yielded a fireman who listened to my tale of woe politely in spite of my terrible French, and assured me he knew of no way to call an operator either.

Back I went through the wedding party, now photographing bride and groom with their youngest attendants. Soon Justin and a pair of police officers arrived; my final view of the bride was as she picked her way to her car, blocked in by the police vehicles, and past my disreputable-looking self being grilled by the gendarmes. The police left us with names and phone numbers to show Customs we’d spoken to them and assured us that someone would call Dominica’s Coast Guard and abort any search plans.

My rescuers fed me, put me to bed, and lent me the fare to Dominica. The next morning I got the sixth-last seat on a 350-passenger ferry.

Meanwhile, Vern was still having adventures.
Just at dark, he finally learned I’d been rescued, when Chris and Duff of Sudiki came by and told him the news. Later they collected him, fed him, let him talk and wind down, put a call through to Enchantress via cell phone, Crosma and VHF radio, and generally made it possible for Vern to sleep that night.

Next morning early, Brian and James, who had welcomed  Sea Dream  to Dominica, were back to check up on Vern and help him move the boat to a mooring since it was gradually dragging ashore, when the Dominican Coast Guard came alongside with three officers aboard. One stayed in the bow with a 12-gauge riot gun pointing at Vern, one managed their boat with an automatic rifle across its seat, and  the third came aboard  Sea Dream and got Vern’s attention by taking him firmly by the arm.

“You are under arrest,” he said. “Pack a bag, lock the boat. You may be away for some time.” Vern faced three charges, in this order of importance: allowing Dominican nationals aboard before clearing Customs, not clearing Customs immediately upon arrival, and doing away with his wife.

Once Vern was in the police boat there was no further chat. He was taken to the head office of the Coast Guard, which is also the police force, and helped ashore since the landing is difficult. It took some time to produce a statement. Partway through, the atmosphere became much more civil.

Afterwards, one officer kindly pointed out a bakery where Vern could buy a much-belated breakfast. Then Vern was bundled back into the boat and taken to the ferry dock, where he cleared in through Customs and Immigration. Without pausing to think, he put my name on the crew list. The Immigration officer crossed it off with a scowl, saying, “We’ll clear her in if she arrives.” IF!

Vern was still waiting on the dock when the ferry decanted me at 4 o’clock that afternoon — and I was very pleased to see him.

We’ve proved it again: it ain’t over till the fat lady SINKS!

This article first appeared in the April 1999 issue of Caribbean Compass.

About Ruth Chesman

Canadians Ruth Chesman and her late husband, Vern, cruised the Lesser Antilles island chain in the Caribbean for many years aboard their Morgan 41, Sea Dream I.

Back home in Canada, the Chesmans were active members of the Fanshawe Yacht Club of London, Ontario. Ruth was always able to see — and communicate — the funny side of sailing, even in a potentially fatal situation. Her stories have appeared in Cruising World and Scuttlebutt, as well as in Caribbean Compass.

This is the second half of a 2-part article by Daria Blackwell,
first published in the Ocean Cruising Club publication Flying Fish.
You can read part 1 here.

Photo: James Dagmore

Bizarre whale tales

Who can forget the photos of the 40 ton southern right whale (Eubalaena australis) that breached onto a 33ft sloop in South Africa in 2010, breaking the mast before sliding into the water with an ‘eerie groan’? Amazingly, Ralph Mothes and Paloma Werner were not injured and returned to harbour on their own, and a nearby vessel managed to record the whole incident on video.

YouTube video: Whale Crashes on Boat – Published by CBSNewsOnline.

It seems this was simply a case of being in the wrong place when a whale came up for air.

There are several additional videos on YouTube that show whales ramming boats or breaching onto them. So it does happen.

In 2011, a breaching humpback whale off southwest Washington smashed the mast and rigging of a 38ft yacht taking part in the Oregon Offshore International Yacht Race to Victoria, BC ‘leaving bits of blubber behind’, as Ryan Barnes told the Coast Guard. Ironically, the boat was called L’Orca. Her crew were in the cockpit and were not injured during the encounter.

YouTube video: Oregon Offshore 2011- Whale vs. Boat!

YouTube video: Sailboat struck by breaching whale near Astoria

In June 2012, Max Young of Sacramento, California, on the last leg of a circumnavigation, had to be rescued after a breaching whale struck his 50ft yacht 40 miles off the coast of Mexico just after dark. He was only about ten feet from the 55ft whale as it jumped about twelve feet in the air and came down on the bow of boat, lifting the stern clear of the water. The collision disabled the steering system and holed the boat, but he used a mattress to plug a hole, and four bilge pumps to bail water, while waiting to be rescued 5.

CruisersForum – www.cruisersforum.com – has a report of a man who left harbour in his new 27ft Bayliner just before sunset with two friends. They were off Santa Barbara Point ‘when a 30ft grey whale suddenly breached and landed on top of the boat. The weight of the whale crushed the cabin before it rolled off the boat back into the water… the beast came around and took another run at the Bayliner and slammed the boat with its tail’. This damaged the boat’s rail and broke one of the owner’s ribs, cut his hand, and embedded barnacles in his back. The whale made a third run at the boat, but just rolled one of its eyes out of the water and stared at them.

Then there’s the truly bizarre story from Australia of a humpback whale that grabbed a yacht’s anchor rode and swam off, towing the boat 1½ miles out to sea at night. It was joined by a second whale that helped along the way. The woman onboard managed to get a video of the encounter before they cut away the rode. The couple had called the Coast Guard and others for assistance but were not taken seriously.

Published studies of collisions

In 2001, researchers from the US and Europe conducted the first survey of reports of collisions between ships and whales (See Laist, DW, et al, Collisions between ships and whales. MARINE MAMMAL SCIENCE, 17(1): 35-75 (January 2001).)

They focused on motorised vessels, as collision reports first started appearing in the 1800s with the advent of steam power. They found that collisions increased as vessel speed increased.

A humpback whale lands in the water after breaching near Auke Bay, Alaska. Photo Aleria Jensen, Public domain NOAA/NMFS/AKFSC. NOAA Photo Library anim1037

Of eleven species known to be hit by ships, they reported that fin whales are struck most frequently and right whales, humpback whales, sperm whales and grey whales (Eschrichtius robustus) are hit commonly. The most lethal or severe injuries are caused by ships travelling at 14 knots or more, which eliminates many cruising yachts. Today, collisions occur most often with high speed ferries and racing yachts.

Since then other reports have been filed, including the 2009 report of an ExxonMobile tanker returning to port with a humpback whale draped over its bulbous bow. In Alaska, in 2010, an adult female humpback was found on the bow of a cruise ship owned by Princess Cruises – the third whale incident involving the company since 2001. Bizarrely, this same ship had had a similar encounter with a fin whale the year before outside Vancouver. Speed and visibility were considered factors in these events.

In 2011 Fabian Ritter, collaborating with noonsite.com, published a study which constitutes the first attempt to quantitatively assess collisions involving sailing vessels and whales on a global scale (Fabian Ritter. Collisions and near miss events between sailing vessels and cetaceans – MEER eV, Bundesallee 123, 12161 Berlin, Germany.)

A total of 108 collisions and 57 ‘near misses’ were identified between 1966 and 2010, the majority of which (75%) were reported between 2002 and 2010. He concluded that elevated vessel speed contributes to a higher risk of collisions, although it doesn’t correlate with likelihood of damage or injuries where other factors can prevail.

Ritter recommended three courses of action to protect ships and whales:

1. speed reduction,
2. dedicated observers, and
3. the shift of routes.

He also recommended publicising the International Whaling Commission (IWC) Ship Strike Data Base and encouraging sailors to report their encounters so the data can be collected and analysed.

In other studies, sound has been used to try to deter whales from crossing paths with boats. In one, it was documented that harmonics may actually attract rather than deter whales. So running your engine may not be a good way to ward them off.

In the Oyster magazine, Pantaenius Insurance reported research they carried out following the loss of a Formula 40 catamaran after it hit a dormant whale in 1991.

The advice their experts offered was for yachts to keep their depth sounders on during ocean passages, as a whale can hear the pulse emitted by the transducer.

What can you do?

Minimising risk of collision with whales is a goal of the International Maritime Organization (IMO). They are planning detailed guidance for all segments of the maritime industry, including cruising and racing yachts. In advance of the guidance, the Belgian Department of the Environment has released an information leaflet which includes advice about how to reduce the risk of collisions with whales and provides a link to the ship strikes database developed by the International Whaling Commission (IWC).

Their advice includes the following points:

• Plan passages to avoid high density areas
• Keep a close watch, reduce speed, and alter course for direct avoidance
• Report incidents to help improve knowledge
• Heed restrictions and seek advice from the IMO and national authorities
• Contribute to scientific research by reporting sightings and encounters

The IWC database contains 1076 collisions reported between 1877 and 2010. It includes the type of whale and the location of collision, though the IWC is quick to note that these reports are, for the most part, uncorroborated.

A humpback whale breaching near the Alaska Maritime National Wildlife Refuge. Photo Wanetta Ayers. Released into the public domain on Wikimedia Commons

The majority of whale fatalities occur off the East Coast of North America and in the Mediterranean. This is hardly surprising, as that is where shipping is most congested and where whales migrate. A recent study by the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration (NOAA), however, has shown that whale populations are on the increase in California waters, adding to the risk of encounters. Multiple species of whale feed along the coast, including killer, grey, humpbacks and blue (Balaenoptera musculus – the world’s largest animal). NOAA has issued advisories to shipping to reduce speed along the migration paths.

What happens to the vessels involved in collisions with whales seems, in comparison, mild. Few ships have been reported holed, disabled or sunk. It has happened, but it seems – at least from our experience – that the benefits to cruising sailors of being out there outweigh the risks of collision – at least with whales.

Whenever I find myself growing grim about the mouth; whenever it is a damp, drizzly November in my soul; whenever I find myself involuntarily pausing before coffin warehouses, and bringing up the rear of every funeral I meet; and especially whenever my hypos get such an upper hand of me, that it requires a strong moral principle to prevent me from deliberately stepping into the street and methodically knocking people’s hats off – then, I account it high time to get to sea as soon as I can.

Herman Melville

About Daria Blackwell

Daria Blackwell is a USCG licensed Captain. She and her husband Alex, and cruising kitty Onyx, have crossed the Atlantic three times in three years aboard their Bowman 57 ketch Aleria, spending years cruising the Caribbean and Atlantic islands as well as the American and European coasts. They are now in Ireland planning their next adventure.

Daria is a proud member of the Ocean Cruising Club Committee, Seven Seas Cruising Association (cruising station for Ireland), American Yacht Club and Mayo Sailing Club.

The Blackwells are co-authors of Happy Hooking – The Art of Anchoringwhich has received excellent reviews in the sailing press. They periodically conduct their Happy Hooking webinar for Seven Seas University.

Their website is www.CoastalBoating.net, “the boaters’ resource for places to go and things to know”.

Further readings

• John S. Marshall: Calif. man tells of sailboat collision with whale
• Laist, DW, et al, Collisions between ships and whales. MARINE MAMMAL SCIENCE, 17(1): 35-75 (January 2001)
• Fabian Ritter. Collisions and near miss events between sailing vessels and cetaceans – MEER eV, Bundesallee 123, 12161 Berlin, Germany
• International Whaling Commission (IWC) Ship Strike Data Base
• NOAA (National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration)- National Marine Sanctuaries: Reducing Ship Strike Risk to Whales
• Belgian Department of the Environment: Reducing risk of collisions with whales (PDF)

Also on this website

• Chance encounters between ships and whales – Part 1
• All posts about Nature
• More posts by Daria Blackwell:
  - Dancing in the Harbour
  - What I like best about cruising? Passages and anchorages: a world of your own

A fin whale preparing to dive beneath ALERIA’s bow. Photo Alex Blackwell.

Most sailors setting off on a passage dream of encountering wildlife at sea.

Yet ask blue water sailors about their biggest fears, and near the top of the list is likely to be ‘striking a whale’. It’s one of the events most likely to be catastrophic at sea. Today, we can usually avoid really bad weather, but can we avoid a sleeping whale at night?

And what is the likelihood of a chance encounter with a whale? It may not be as rare (or as common) as one might think, depending on location. The likelihood appears to be increasing as protected whale species increase in numbers, and like many cruisers Alex and I have had a few very happy encounters.

Fortunately, several lessons can be applied to reduce the risk and enhance the experience.

Magic at sea – the friendly encounter

First encounter with whales

Whale spy hopping on Stellwagon Bank.

Our first encounter with whales came while crossing Stellwagen Bank, a vast marine sanctuary off Cape Cod. We came upon a pod of northern right whales (Eubalaena glacialis), which started us off with a magical experience that would be difficult to top. We first sighted a mother and calf feeding near tour boats – she was ignoring the humans intruding on her brunch.

About an hour later we noted a rock where there should have been deep water.

After frantically checking the charts and keeping a close eye through  binoculars, we realised it was a whale with callosities, spy hopping and being  groomed by a flock of birds. Then the whale rolled and dived to show off his  fluke.

Soon afterwards a second whale appeared, much closer, then two more, and five more, until we were surrounded by scores of these leviathans.

As they came closer to get a better look at  us with those all-knowing eyes, our first thoughts drifted to the infamous line from Jaws, “we’re gonna need a bigger boat”. They were  about the same length as Aleria.

As soon as we realised they were just curious and respectful we  ghosted along beside them as we checked each other out. We were under full sail  in light winds with no engines running, and worried about them surfacing beneath  us after their dives. We kept a close watch, steered cautiously away from any ahead  of us, and avoided coming between mothers and their calves.

Whereas the experience was initially silent, suddenly the air filled with whale song. Not just one but a cacophony of voices, which seemed to be amplified by Aleria’s hull acting like a stethoscope. There were  long wails, short burps, moans, groans, and high pitched squeals of varied  duration and emphasis. We were taken aback, perplexed. We looked at each other to  make sure we were both hearing this. It sounded surreal. Then, we succumbed to the sheer joy of it. We sang back, jumping up and down, cheering and clapping like children. I don’t recall ever having had such a joyous experience in my  life. We were speaking whale! All fear was gone, replaced with sheer wonder. It  seemed to go on forever.

Then, suddenly, they were gone. The whale song receded and the whales disappeared from view. We mourned their passing but  felt blessed to have met them. Alex described the experience as ‘prehistoric,  otherworldly’. We had been so dumbfounded that we forgot to take pictures. We  have only a few that Alex took as he sighted that first ‘rock’.

Occasional glimpses

As we left Nova Scotia to cross the Atlantic  to Ireland, we were followed out of St Margaret’s Bay by a lone killer whale (Orcinus orca). She swam along peacefully and we wondered if her reputation was deserved.  We didn’t see any more whales all the way to Ireland, but we sailed through thick fog followed by six gales. We know now that whales are sighted more often on calm,  clear days – if the surface of the sea is smooth, you’ll spot an unusual disturbance more readily.

We were next rewarded with a visit by a pod  of pilot whales (Globicephala macrorhynchus) while in transit from Tenerife to La Gomera in the Canary Islands. They are known to be resident there, so we kept a close watch.  Not much bigger than dolphins but black in colour, the pilot whales swam gently along  in company for some time.

A pilot whale off La Gomera in the Canary IslandsPhoto Martina Nolte / Lizenz Creative Commons CC-by-sa-3.0 de

During six months of cruising the Caribbean, where whales come to calve, we saw only one, breaching off the west coast of Antigua. From the shape and acrobatics it appeared to be a humpback (Megaptera  novaeangliae). In  certain islands, the Grenadines for example, fishermen are permitted to take  their annual quota of whale meat in the traditional way, and as we passed St  Vincent we saw a boat with a bow-mounted harpoon coming in with a cetacean strapped to  the side of the hull.

Whales galore

Crossing the Atlantic from the Caribbean to  the Azores, we encountered very light wind conditions. In fact, the Azores high overtook us until we were smack in the middle. It was on this leg that we learned the value of a flat sea for whale sightings and learned just how many of these creatures are en route through the area at any given time. No wonder the Azores were so prominent  on the whaling scene. Plentiful food, good weather – what’s not to like?

We had numerous sightings on one day – sperm  whales (Physeter catodon) and fin whales (Balaenoptera physalus), mothers with calves, juveniles and  elderly, in the distance and REALLY close by. In fact, one pod swam along in our bow wave like dolphins, except they were 60ft long fin  whales. They dove underneath and we wondered where they’d come back up. They  blew air which carried the scent of bountiful fisheries right beside us and  stared at us with those penetrating gazes. It happened to be my birthday – one I will never forget!

In all these encounters, we have never truly felt threatened – concerned about proximity, but not threatened. We rarely use the engine even in very light air, and we always keep a close watch. We are  respectful of the distance between us. We are respectful of their environment. We are  respectful of their intelligence and their place on this oceanic earth. I think they knew all  that.

Collisions between ships and whales

Struck by a whale off Grand Banks

The first time I heard about a sailing boat ‘encountering’ a whale mid-ocean was when a yacht, the 49ft  sloop Peningo, collided with a whale about 700 miles from the Azores while en  route from the US to the America’s Cup Jubilee in England in 2001.

The skipper wrote  about their ordeal afterwards, providing insight into the experience1. Although the story is entitled Struck by a Whale, from his description of the encounter it is more  likely that it was the vessel that struck the whale. The whale was severely injured and the yacht was rendered helpless with serious rudder damage. Luckily for those  aboard, the yacht remained afloat with no major water intrusion until a rescue ship  arrived to tow them back to Newfoundland.

The whale probably didn’t do so well.

The sinking of the Essex

This illustration from the Russel Purrington Panorama – a series of paintings intended to describe the workings of the whale fishery – shows the attack of the whale on the Essex

A most famous encounter is that of the  Nantucket whaling ship Essex, which was sunk by a sperm whale in the South Pacific2 in 1820. Herman Melville’s novel Moby Dickis based on this true story, told by the few  crew who survived. The whale struck the Essex with its head just behind the bow while the light boats were out hunting.

‘The ship brought up as suddenly and  violently as if she had struck a rock,’ recalled Owen Chase, the first mate. The whale had smashed through the bulkhead and water was streaming in. Chase set the crew to work  on the pumps and signalled the other boats to return immediately.

The whale,  meanwhile, was apparently badly injured and was leaping and twisting in convulsions  some distance away. Then suddenly the animal raced toward the ship again, its head  high above the water like a battering ram.

It stove in the port side of the ship and the Essex sank, leaving the crew thousands of miles from land in three light boats. (See Nathaniel Philbrick: In the Heart of the Sea: The Tragedy of the Whaleship Essex Penguin, 2001.)

In a scientific paper on whale behaviour by Carrier published in 2002, the authors note, ‘Head-butting during aggressive behaviour is common and widespread among cetaceans, suggesting that it may be a basal behaviour for the group. Although data is not available for most species, head-butting has been observed in species in each of the four major cetacean lineages’. They put forth a hypothesis that the spermaceti organ has evolved in whales as a weapon used in male-to-male  aggression and was used as a battering ram capable of sinking the Essex. (See Carrier, DR et al: The face that sank the Essex: potential function of the spermaceti organ in aggression. J Exp Biol 205: 1755-1763, 2002.)

Even without this, the sperm whale is the  largest-toothed animal alive today with some growing to more than 60ft in length and weighing 50 tons.

A mother sperm whale and her calf dive together near the Azores. Photo: Daria Blackwell

Whale attack! Yachts colliding with whales

During a passage from the Canaries to the  Caribbean we heard one of the boats in our SSB net report an attack by a whale.

She was a vessel in the 35ft range, heading back to Boston from Europe with two people  aboard. While under sail in light wind they sighted several whales, one of which  turned towards their boat and rammed it head on. It circled, and came back at them  repeatedly. They were terrified that the whale was going to keep battering until they were holed and sunk, then suddenly it swam away. They had the presence of mind to  take photos and were able to identify it as a false killer whale (Pseudorca crassidens). The net controller  asked what colour their hull was, as a crew member suggested  that whales tend to attack boats with red bottoms. Interestingly, they had just had their bottom repainted – and the colour they had chosen was red. Aleria’s bottom is green and her hull is white.

There are multiple reports of yachts colliding with whales, including two in the 1970s when British yachts were lost.

• Maurice and Maralyn Bailey were on their way from Panama to the Galapagos Islands when, at dawn  on 4 March 1973, their 31ft Auralyn was struck by a whale and holed. The Baileys  survived for 117 days and drifted 1500 miles on an inflatable liferaft before being rescued. They wrote an account of their ordeal entitled 117 Days Adrift(Staying Alive! in the US).

• Dougal Robertson left England in 1971 aboard Lucette, a 43ft wooden schooner, with his wife and four children. On 15 June 1972 Lucette was holed by a pod of killer whales and sank approximately 200 miles west  of the Galapagos Islands. The six people on board took to an inflatable liferaft and a solid hull dinghy, which they used as a tow-boat with a jury-rigged sail. They were rescued after 38 days by a fishing trawler.

Robertson wrote two books, Survive the Savage Seaand Sea Survival: A Manual.

• More recently there’s the 1989 account of a  pod of pilot whales sinking the yacht Siboney, after which owners Bill and Simone Butler awaited rescue in a liferaft. He documented their story in the book, 66 Days Adrift: A True Story of Disaster and Survival on the Open Sea.

• In October 2011 Yachting Monthly reported on a boat which had been attacked by a whale mid-ocean in the mid 1990s. The animal made three glancing blows before swimming away, and scientists whom the author spoke to afterwards suggested that she must have had a calf and was chasing them  off. They did not report the colour of their bottom paint, but noted that sections of  paint had been scraped clean in the collision. The vessel, an Oyster Lightwave, did not suffer any significant damage.

• Anecdotal reports on blogs include one by Paul J who reported being attacked by what may have been a sperm whale about 150 miles off the Great Barrier Reef. He posted a photo (right) on ybw.com of the bottom of his steel boat dented by the whale’s head – the bottom of his boat was painted red.

In the same thread, two other cruisers noted encounters with pilot whales around their redbottomed boats, but no attacks.

Can whales see colour?

It has long been advised not to paint a boat’s bottom white because it looks like the belly of a killer whale. Other people advise not to paint it black, grey or blue because it might appear to be a competing whale or a  predator. Then the red question came about.

Yet scientists have long professed that  whales cannot see colour as they do not have the short wavelength cones in their eyes. That to me is short sighted (excuse the pun) as it assumes the human way is the only way to see colour. A study published in 2002 by Griebel suggests that cetaceans do indeed discern  colour, but in a different way than we do (See Griebel, U, Color vision in marine mammals. A review. Bright, M,Dworschak, PC, and Stachowitsch, M (Eds.) 2002: The Vienna School of Marine Biology: A Tribute to Jörg Ott. Facultas Universitätsverlag, Wien: 73-87.)

So it is possible that colour does make a difference to whales – we just don’t know for sure.

Speed is a factor

One certain trend is that more collisions are  being recorded as boats get faster (especially racing boats). A British sailing journalist’s blog looked back at some of the better-known collisions with whales, and  we have now added to the list. There are four reports of collisions during the  OSTAR (one in 1964, two in 1988 and one in 1996) the latter including one with Ellen  MacArthur’s Kingfisher in which the whale was killed and found wrapped around the  vessel’s keel. David Selling’s Hyccup sank as a result of a collision in 1988.

There were two reports during Whitbread Round the World Races, in 1989 and 1998; of  the second, Knut Frostad said, ‘It was like being in a car crash’. Delta Lloyd and Ericsson 3 both hit whales during the 2008/09 Volvo Ocean Race, with minor damage.

There were four other reports during races between 2001 and 2005 in which  boats were damaged, with rudders being particularly vulnerable.

That’s a total of twelve high-profile  collisions reported since the 1960s, but only one vessel (Hyccup) was catastrophically damaged.

And in the  2011/12 Volvo Ocean Race, Camper’s helmsman Roberto Bermudez managed to avoid  collision with a whale on Leg 7 from Miami to Lisbon –  all caught on amazing video footage

YouTube video: CAMPER Avoids Whale Collision – Volvo Ocean Race 2011-12

Next:
Part 2 of this article is here. 

About Daria Blackwell

Daria Blackwell is a USCG licensed Captain. She and her husband Alex, and cruising kitty Onyx, have crossed the Atlantic three times in three years aboard their Bowman 57 ketch Aleria, spending years cruising the Caribbean and Atlantic islands as well as the American and European coasts. They are now in Ireland planning their next adventure.

Daria is a proud member of the Ocean Cruising Club Committee, Seven Seas Cruising Association (cruising station for Ireland), American Yacht Club and Mayo Sailing Club.

The Blackwells are co-authors of Happy Hooking – The Art of Anchoringwhich has received excellent reviews in the sailing press. They periodically conduct their Happy Hooking webinar for Seven Seas University.

Their website is www.CoastalBoating.net, “the boaters’ resource for places to go and things to know”.

Further readings

• Dod A Fraser: Struck by a whale off Grand Banks
• Wikipedia: Essex (whaleship)
• Herman Melville: Moby Dick
• Nathaniel Philbrick: In the Heart of the Sea: The Tragedy of the Whaleship Essex Penguin, 2001
• Carrier, DR et al: The face that sank the Essex: potential function of the spermaceti organ in aggression. J Exp Biol 205: 1755-1763, 2002
• Maurice and Maralyn Bailey: 117 Days Adrift
• Dougal Robertson: Survive the Savage Sea& Sea Survival: A Manual
• Bill Butler: 66 Days Adrift: A True Story of Disaster and Survival on the Open Sea
• Yachting Monthly, October 2011: Whale attack! When a 6-ton boat met 12 tonnes of blubber
• ybw. com forum thread: Pilot whale attacks
• Griebel, U, Color vision in marine mammals. A review.Bright, M,Dworschak, PC, and Stachowitsch, M (Eds.) 2002: The Vienna School of Marine Biology: A Tribute to Jörg Ott. Facultas Universitätsverlag, Wien: 73-87.
• YachtingMonthly.com: Whale collisions a perennial risk, by Elaine Bunting

Also on this website

• Chance encounters between ships and whales – Part 2
• All posts about Nature
• More posts by Daria Blackwell:
  - Dancing in the Harbour
  - What I like best about cruising? Passages and anchorages: a world of your own

Question

I have a question regarding safety while cruising. Our dream has for the last almost 20 years was to retire early and go cruising to the Caribbean aboard our 41 ft ketch.

But now, as that time is quickly approaching, I’m beginning to be afraid of the safety issues. It seems there is an increasing number of reported incidents against cruisers, whether petty theft or worse. Enough to make us wonder if going cruising is now safe.

To all of you who are living the life we are dreaming of, is it safe? Is personal safety in the Caribbean worse than cities here in the US? Am I being silly or ??? Any input would be appreciated!

Thanks,
Karen

We asked Sally Erdle, editor of the cruising newspaper “Caribbean Compass” to reply:

Dear Karen, I’d advise you not to give up your dream.

Yes, there are security issues in the Caribbean, as there are everywhere.

But recent input from active cruisers in the Caribbean might be enlightening:

Melodye Pompa of the “Caribbean Safety and Security Net” wrote in the January 2010 issue of Caribbean Compass:

Be wary of believing every blog you read on the Internet.

The downside of having such an extensive information tool is that everyone and his brother can post, claiming to have the final word on the facts.

Without specific information, various press media have published wild speculations about the dangers of cruising, including in their dire warnings about incidents that occurred ten or 20 years ago. There are now MORE rumors among the cruising community about crime than prior to the birth of the Security Net — change is not always progress!

The website www.safetyandsecuritynet.com includes a long list of safety tips accumulated throughout the nearly 14 years of the Net’s existence.

It is not difficult to take the necessary steps to avoid becoming the victim of a crime against yachts. There are, of course, no guarantees, but there are no guarantees in the life we choose to lead. There are, however, smart practices which can prevent petty to serious problems.

And here are excerpts from letters which are published in the June 2010 issue of Compass:

I am appalled at the wrong impression about the security situation in Chaguaramas, Trinidad that is being presented in articles put out by the media. My wife and I have lived on a boat in Chaguaramas for the past 11 years and have never felt that our personal safety was threatened.

Having enjoyed another wonderful cruising season from Grenada to Antigua, back to Grenada and in between, I felt I had to write to you about something that happened on our return to Canada.

One of the complaints most heard “down south” is about security issues, as if nothing happens anywhere else in the world.

After flying into Toronto we went to our son in Kingston, Ontario. He has a part share of a boat there and we arrived in time for launch weekend. On the Saturday we went to help with the clean-up on the boat. Being a small boat its propulsion, apart from sails, is by a small outboard engine. This we noted was locked in place. Early the Sunday morning we returned to the marina for launch to find a very distraught owner — the outboard had been stolen! Twelve engines and several dinghies on a trailer had gone.

So cruisers, just remember, it can happen anywhere…

It really amazes me when cruisers talk about all the crime in the Caribbean.

I don’t believe there is any more crime here than any other place in the world — there are just so many more opportunities.

When ashore, I live in a very nice home in a very nice neighborhood in the US. We have very little crime and feel secure in our house. But every night, we lock the doors, secure the windows and make sure lawnmowers, bicycles, etcetera, have been put away and locked up before we go to bed.

Why is it that cruisers who come to the Caribbean act differently? I am shocked at the stories I read in your paper, not by the acts of thievery, but in the ways that cruisers tempt would-be thieves and give them golden opportunities. Cruisers leave their hatches and companionways wide open and then go to sleep. Their decks are so cluttered with stuff, the boat looks like a floating Budget Marine store.

Ask yourself, would you really go to bed with your front door wide open back home, and leave a bunch of your belongings on the front yard by the street?

Hope this helps!

Sally

About Sally Erdle

Sally Erdle circumnavigated Bequia-to-Bequia with her husband, Tom Hopman, and their cat from 1989 to 1994 aboard their 1963 vintage Rhodes 41 double-headsail sloop, So Long, before settling back in the Caribbean to start the cruising newspaper Caribbean Compass in 1995.

See also on this website

• What Sally Erdle likes most about cruising
• Read the Caribbean Compass online!
  

More info (external links)

• Caribbean Compass website
• Caribbean Safety and Security Net website

Do you have a question for Women and Cruising?

Let us know. Email kathy@forcruisers.com or leave a comment below.

Amanda and John Neal (s/v Mahina Tiare) were in the Samoan capital, Apia in September 2009 when a powerful tsunami generated by an undersea earthquake killed dozens and wiped out several villages in the Pacific islands of Samoa, American Samoa, and Tonga. Amanda described their experience in Earthquakes and Tsunamis – Part 1: Amanda Neal reports from Samoa (and Hawaii). Here, in Part 2, she reflects on the experience and offers suggestions for preparing for and responding to earthquake and tsunami alerts.

59% of tsunamis occur in the Pacific with 80% caused by earthquakes

As sailors we need to be aware of the ever present threat of a tsunami.

By establishing emergency procedures for your crew and vessel along with knowing what to expect and do in the event of a tsunami it will be far less likely that you and your crew will become casualties and that your vessel will sustain damage.

Samoa Tsunami travel times (from the NOAA Pacific Tsunami Warning Center’s website)

Time is the essence.

In the event of an earthquake, time is the essence as there may only be four minutes from the time of the earthquake to the arrival of a tsunami.

Tsunamis travel at 300-600 mph in the deep and open ocean so waiting to see if civil defense alarms sound after an earthquake is not wise.

When we experienced the earthquake in Apia, Samoa in 2009 the alarm sounded approximately 12 minutes later. Already the water was rapidly receding from Apia Marina where we were moored. At the instant the sirens went off, the tsunami was already coming ashore on the South side of the island in a series of waves that would claim over 130 lives. The quake was centered approximately 120 miles south of Samoa and about 100 miles West of American Samoa.

The NOAA Pacific Tsunami Warning Center is located at Ewa Beach, Hawaii. They have seafloor and coastal sensors located around and across the Pacific but after an earthquake it takes them at least 12-15 minutes to analyze data to determine if there is the potential for a tsunami.

It is important to note that there can be as much as 300-400 miles between tsunami crests, so after the initial series of tsunami waves hit, the next set of waves may occur up to one hour later. There may be as many as nine consecutive wave sets.

This was the case in the 1960 tsunami that devastated Hilo, Hawaii, which had 35’ waves and claimed 61 lives.

Tsunamis can also wrap around islands.

Earthquake and Tsunami Awareness

Mid Ocean

As mid-ocean tsunami wave height is generally less than 3’, tsunamis are frequently unnoticed by mariners. However, here is an earthquake account from Brian Taylor aboard Kyogle.

I was approximately 100-150 miles from the September 29th [Samoan] earthquake center on and the effect on Kyogle was a bit scary.

She started shaking as if you were driving a car with all the wheels about to fall off.

I assumed that I had major trouble with my transmission system so stopped the engine and stopped the prop shaft from turning…..still shaking…checked the sails to see if they were flapping madly….

No problems there. The shaking stops and then restarts for a short while longer.

I was talking on my SSB radio a few minutes later and was then advised that a tsunami warning was in force.

When Ashore in a Coastal Location

Receeding and swirling water along the waterfront from the marina in Apia, Samoa

Tsunami damage on the south coast of Upolu Island, Samoa – (Photo: Jill Josselyn)

In any coastal location always note the tidal range and times.

If you ever see the sea level rising higher or receding lower than normal realize that this is the natural warning sign of an approaching tsunami.

If ashore, do not go out on the exposed reef or shore to collect fish, as locals frequently do. You must immediately run inland to high ground or get above the third floor of a sturdy building, if available.

Tsunamis have traveled .7 mile or further inland if the terrain is flat, so the option of going to the highest floor of a sturdy building may be safer than attempting to run inland.

In the Samoan tsunami the ground floors of many buildings were washed clean of everything and it would not have been possible to survive due to backwash of debris and swift currents, while above the third floor many buildings were relatively undamaged.

When Aboard

If you are docked and experience an earthquake or rapidly receding water, immediately start your engine, cut your docklines and motor at full speed to water deeper than 150’.

If the event occurs at night and/or it isn’t possible to safely leave the harbor, quickly leave your boat running for the hills or to a tall, substantial building.

At Anchor

If you are at anchor and experience an earthquake or rapidly receding water, immediately start your engine, raise your anchor and get to deeper water.

In the 2009 tsunami that hit Niuatoputapu, Tonga, friends aboard a 39’ sloop tried to raise anchor immediately after the earthquake but found their chain wrapped around a coral head, so they let out all of their chain.

When they saw the 13’ high surge come over the reef they kept the bow pointing into the wave while maintaining full forward throttle. They managed to survive the series of waves and swirling current with only stretched chain and a damaged windlass.

When leaving the boat, here are some priorities to quickly grab:

John putting on his running shoes as we leave the marina (Apia, Samoa)

1. Passports, cash and credit cards
2. Iridium satellite phone
3. Cell phone
4. VHF handheld radio
   (this proved very helpful in Samoa)
5. Flashlights
6. Knapsack
7. Water bottle
8. Granola bars or similar
9. Necessary prescription medicines
10. Running shoes
11. Jacket

About Amanda Swan Neal

John and Amanda Neal

With over 237,000 miles, including Sydney-Hobart Races and numerous Cape Horn roundings, Amanda Swan Neal’s offshore sailing started before she was a teen with a family cruise through the South Pacific and on to Seattle.

Upon returning to New Zealand she became a sailmaker and rigger, completing the 1990 Whitbread Around the World Race aboard Maiden.

s/v MAHINA TIARE

In 1994 she fell in love with John Neal or perhaps Mahina Tiare II‘s passage to Antarctica.

Together they run Mahina Expeditions annually conducting 8 intensive offshore sail-training expeditions aboard their Hallberg-Rassy 46 Mahina Tiare III, presentations at major boat shows, and several Offshore Cruising Seminars.

Mahina Tiare‘s 2010 expedition circuit in will be in the South Pacific from New Zealand to Tahiti then weaving through the South Sea Isles to New Caledonia before returning to New Zealand.

Author of The Essential Galley Companion, Amanda writes the monthly “Galley Essentials” article for 48 North magazine and has contributed to Blue Water Sailing, Cruising World, Latitude 38 and Sail Magazine.

When not enlightening others with the joys of sailing Amanda can be heard Celtic step dancing or seen out paddling.

Related articles (on this website)

• Earthquakes and Tsunamis – Part 1: Amanda Neal reports from Samoa (and Hawaii)
• Amanda Neal’s April Seminars on Offshore Cruising
• Read what Amanda Swan Neal had to say in our Galley Advice from 18 Cruising Women article.

More info

• NOAA Pacific Tsunami Warning Center
• Mahina Expeditions website: www.mahina.com

MAHINA TIARE in Apia Marina – Samoa	Samoan tsunami (Credit NOAA / PMEL / Center for Tsunami Research )

Samoa

“Earthquake?!” we said to each other.

“Not a bad one” John commented as the ground continued to roll and shake.

“Hum” I thought as I wondered how crew are faring back aboard Mahina Tiare in Apia Marina.

The previous day, Monday 29th September we’d cleared into Samoa with our expedition crew of six after completing the 180 mile passage from Niuatoputapu, Tonga.

That night we’d all gone to bed rather pooped so when John and I left on a dawn run to reacquaint ourselves with downtown Apia I was surprised to see most of our crew awake and heading for the showers.

As John and I left Farmer Joes supermarket with an armload of hot bread, the street started shaking.

I looked around thinking a truck was passing by but saw no heavy equipment. I was a little behind John, I’d been peering in a shop window, so I ran to catch him up for he was now standing in the middle of the street.

“Quick, we’d best leg it back to the boat!” I said.

Location of the earthquake (Map from the website news.bbc.co.uk)

We quickly made the ten minute run back to Mahina Tiare, keeping clear of all tall buildings and power lines. My eyes were fixated on the harbourfront watching for any signs of receding water.

In 1977 I’d experienced a 7.7 earthquake while in the small boat basin in Nukulofala, Tonga, aboard our family cruising yacht Swanhaven. It occurred at 2am and all the cruisers had stood on deck in the dark discussing the possibility of a tsunami. One did not eventuate but I was now wondering the same as we ran back to the marina.

We arrived back at Mahina Tiare to find our crew in good spirits.

I chatted with Elaine who said as the quake struck she had awoken to a strange jiggling. After going to the cockpit she looked about as other cruisers appeared on deck. As the quick jiggling motion continued for several minutes everyone then assumed it was an earthquake. After chatting with Elaine and our crew for a few moments I went aft to gather my shower kit.

It was a tsunami alert.

Suddenly loud civil defense sirens sounded. It only took a minute to register what it meant, then only a few seconds to realize it was a tsunami alert.

“Grab your passports and run” I told our crew.

I set about shutting ports and hatches while John gathered boat papers and our passports. Marina staff was now yelling urgently for everyone to run for the hills and fire truck sirens were also joining in with the civil defense warning. We had to make a quick decision.

“Do we run or put to sea?” asked John and I to each other.

We noticed the water in the marina had started to move about and had quickly dropped four feet. Sea water was surging up and down, dropping only slightly lower after each surge.

We watched across the dock as Ernie and Charlene on Lauren Grace, a Knysna 440 catamaran, took off slewing sideways out the marina with the powerful current sweeping them out. One of the Pago Pago car ferries also cast lines and departed.

Lauren Grace leaving the marina	Note the receeding water on the marina breakwater

When we were entering the marina we’d discovered that the marina entrance is very shallow; we only had a depth of 1.7 feet under the keel in places, and numerous large unmarked coral heads dot the marina basin and even some slips.

Would we now have enough depth to leave, and what if we got stuck on a coral head?

We decide to run.

This meant running along the waterfront for three blocks to reach the first road going inland. The smart yachties headed for Aggie Grey’s hotel in the middle of the waterfront bay, where hotel staff welcomed them and sent them to the top floors of the five storied building. Here they had a great view of the harbor going dry for several hundred yards out.

John and I soon joined a mass of people, cars and trucks all heading up the hills.

Joining the evacuation heading up the hill	Heading up the hill. Note ferry and yacht in the distance putting to sea

Although the fire department kept directing everyone further inland we decided there was no way a tsunami would go further than where we were so we took shelter in the courtyard of a church.

An 18’ tsunami hit the entire South side of the island.

Tsunami damage on the South coast of Upolu Island, Samoa (Photos: Jill Josselyn)

After half an hour we stopped a passing taxi heading back to the harbour to see if he had any news.

He mentioned that the radio said a tsunami had struck the Eastern end of the island and that a school had collapsed with at least three children dead and more were trapped in the wreckage.

Little did we know that as the sirens went off an 18’ tsunami hit the entire South side of the island causing 130+ deaths and massive destruction.

John and I quickly assumed that a tsunami can’t hit both sides of an island and went back to Mahina Tiare. We’ve since learned that tsunamis in fact can wrap around islands.

Back to Mahina Tiare

Our crew, Jill, Molly and Roy volunteer at Red Cross

Our crew had been offered rides inland and were not able to return until around noon due to police road blocks and no final all-clear given over the radio or sirens system.

Relieved to be safe we then spent a few hours calming our nerves while completing medical class, sewing and splicing. Molly, Jill and Roy decided to volunteer at Red Cross and headed off in their rental truck while the rest of us choose to stay put.

Second alert

John putting on his running shoes as we leave the marina

When the tsunami sirens went off again around 6 pm, the police and fire trucks came roaring down the harbour front yelling that everyone must leave immediately.

This time three yachts headed out to sea while we headed to Aggie Gray’s Hotel where the staff welcomed us and asked us to hurry up the stairs to one of the top floors. We met a nice couple from Auckland who let us stay on their balcony which had an excellent view of the marina and harbor.

When we switched on the TV to view the news we found the local coverage of the tsunami quite amateurish and disturbing. It was rather indiscriminant with images of distraught families and deceased bodies in piles so we turned it off.

Thankfully after an hour of nothing much going on along the deserted waterfront word of the “All Clear” filtered up to us.

As we returned to the marina Ernie from Laura Grace said that he’d just overheard a conversation on the VHF from the RNZ Air Force P-3 Orion aircraft that had been searching for bodies. They said another tsunami was expected in 20 minutes.

We quickly returned to Mahina Tiare to grab some more things including the handheld VHF. As we switched it on we overhear the NZAF pilot on the VHF asking Apia Port Control for an update on the now imminent tsunami. Port Control said that the last warning was for high waves on the village on the South side of the island that has been devastated and the alarm should not have been sounded again for this side.

Whew! That night we slept with our knapsacks and running shoes in the cockpit ready to sprint back to Aggie Grey’s Room 313 where our Kiwi friends have invited us to return if necessary.

The days after

Wednesday and Thursday in Apia seemed rather normal but fairly quiet as no government offices were open.

Other than the small local morning paper and radio news rebroadcast from Radio New Zealand once a day, getting local news was difficult. It was certainly hard to know what is happening if one didn’t speak Samoan so we found it best to search the internet for updates.

The airport and flights were running nearly to schedule so our crew managed to fly home. There weren’t any shortages of supplies and outside aid continually arrived on military flights. The Samoan prime mister returned from overseas and the New Zealand prime minister arrived aboard a RNAF 757 containing a portable desalinization plant, Samoan-speaking medical personnel, emergency supplies and rescue sniffer dogs.

Kalalau, a sloop from Seattle, left Thursday loaded to the gunnels with supplies for Niuatoputapu,Tonga, and several other yachts planned on making the 180 mile passage there once news was received of the required supplies. The Tongan government patrol boat with medical personnel arrived a few days after the tsunami followed by French naval ship from Noumea.

In the meantime two yachts in the anchorage were a vital communications link to a government-chartered plane that was sent to survey the damage in Niuatoputapu. It could not land as debris had covered the airport runway and telecommunications services were badly affected.

Happy and thankfully safe in Apia Marina

In need of a break John and I are chose an anchorage in small bay to the East of Apia for a few quiet days to work on Mahina Tiare. We listened in on the morning SSB cruisers net to see how everyone fared especially the yachts in Pago Pago and Niuatoputapu and talked a lot together about Tuesday’s events.

We know we made the right decision to run but realized we now needed to so some more research on earthquake and tsunami response.

What we did learn from Lauren Grace is that you need to go to sea to a depth of 100-150’ to be safe but after hearing of the yachts in Pago Pago that got tragically hit by the tsunami you’d best be quick.

Hawaii

27th February 2010: Hawaii is under tsunami warning following a massive earthquake in Chile. Amanda and John are there!

Last Saturday morning at 6am tsunami warning sirens roused John and I from our sleep in oceanfront condo in Hilo, Hawaii. We instantly leap out of bed and proceeded to grab important documents, including our computers, and switch ourselves into evacuation mode.

In checking with our neighbors we were informed we had a leisurely four hours to evacuate before the expected tsunami from a devastating Chilean earthquake was to arrive.

Phew, not like Samoa though even without crew or a vessel to be responsible for it was still a little nerve wracking. We had friends in the Galapagos and knew they would also be affected.

So this week in order to become better educated on earthquake and tsunamis John and I began doing some research. In reviewing our actions in Samoa there was a lot we didn’t know and now wish we had.

In order for others to be better educated we’ve written the following earthquake/tsunami procedures…

March 13, 2010

Amanda Swan Neal

About Amanda Swan Neal

John and Amanda Neal

With over 237,000 miles, including Sydney-Hobart Races and numerous Cape Horn roundings, Amanda Swan Neal’s offshore sailing started before she was a teen with a family cruise through the South Pacific and on to Seattle.

Upon returning to New Zealand she became a sailmaker and rigger, completing the 1990 Whitbread Around the World Race aboard Maiden.

s/v MAHINA TIARE

In 1994 she fell in love with John Neal or perhaps Mahina Tiare II‘s passage to Antarctica.

Together they run Mahina Expeditions annually conducting 8 intensive offshore sail-training expeditions aboard their Hallberg-Rassy 46 Mahina Tiare III, presentations at major boat shows, and several Offshore Cruising Seminars.

Mahina Tiare‘s 2010 expedition circuit in will be in the South Pacific from New Zealand to Tahiti then weaving through the South Sea Isles to New Caledonia before returning to New Zealand.

Author of The Essential Galley Companion, Amanda writes the monthly “Galley Essentials” article for 48 North magazine and has contributed to Blue Water Sailing, Cruising World, Latitude 38 and Sail Magazine.

When not enlightening others with the joys of sailing Amanda can be heard Celtic step dancing or seen out paddling.

Related articles

• Earthquakes & tsunamis – Part 2: lessons learned in Samoa
• Read what Amanda Swan Neal had to say in our Galley Advice from 18 Cruising Women article.

More info

• Mahina Expeditions website: www.mahina.com
• Amanda will be giving seminars at the Strictly Sail Pacific Boat Show April 15 – 18, 2010 in Oakland CA. We will be publishing details here on our blog soon. View the complete Seminar Schedule.