I AM CONFUSED

us sailing inquiry panel

Images from the last “America’s Cup” visit to Newport when lead mines were still in fashion.

The reports of the tragedy of “AEGEAN” remains a puzzle for me. Could the 37 foot hunter yacht have been destroyed in the manner described by hitting coronado island? Then have the debris field float against the current to be discovered?

Was the boat hit by a ship as first reported and the transponder then continue to send a signal until it landed on the island?

As usual everyone has opinion, which has been formed without all of the facts. How often have we seen that happen in life?

NEW STORY

So all the stories I posted have been just that; stories. As is often the case, speaking out before all the information is in. The conversation has just taken an abrupt change of direction.

what happened

The tracker doesn’t lie: The Hunter 37 Aegean, which was feared to have been run over by a large commercial vessel during the Newport to Ensenada race, actually ran aground on the North Coronado Island, killing four crew members. A nasty bit of rock, and with the decent sized swell running during the race, it is not hard to imagine the sort of carnage rendered, at least to the boat. We still aren’t sure how the hell they ended up there though… Click here to expand on the track.

05/01/12

CASE IN POINT

Here is an excerpt from a posting by PUMA, currently sailing up the coast of Brazil finishing in Miami. It is a little ironic given what has been the sailing headlines in recent times here in the United States.

Early yesterday evening our course took us directly across the transom of a tiny wooden fishing boat, anchored no less than 50 miles from shore, and as we went by waving hello to four surprised locals at 18 knots, it’s impossible not to wonder if our new spectators have any comprehension of what they’ve witnessed. They have likely never laid eyes on a boat like ours, and likely never will again. A giant black jumping cat emblazoned on a tentacle-covered sailboat, a fast sailboat, faster than many powerboats. It must be bizarre but exhilarating, if only for a brief moment before we’re gone again, like a mysterious UFO just passing through.

Looking back on the six prior legs of this race, I wonder if the countless mariners we randomly intersect, lives we intermittently traverse in the middle of the worlds ocean: what did they do when they returned to land? Are they new PUMA Ocean Racing Facebook fans? Are they reading this update, avid followers of our plight like the sailors of the ZIM MONACO? Did they Instagram a photo of us from their fancy smart phone? Or not. Are we just an intense flash of a story on an otherwise typical workday for some seafarer that knows nothing of Volvo cars, PUMA clothing, carbon fiber, or the World Wide Web?

There was the ship of long liners off Sri Lanka, forcing us into a hard preventative bear away and a close race mark like rounding (I don’t know what was more impressive, the stench from their hold or Tony’s reaction on the helm). There were the countless unlit dinghies in the Malacca Straits, clueless as to the danger a night in our path could present. There was the teeming port of Singapore; an evening spent dodging and weaving through hundreds (maybe thousands) of anchored 300-meter ships. There were the fishing boats off Japan and the fishing boats off the Solomons. There was the fleet of halogen-lit squidders near Chile and then the busy trans-South Atlantic shipping lanes, the very one that brought us to our ZIM MONACO friends and eventual Tristan salvation.

THE STORY

I had some pretty pictures to post but this is a thread that should continue

Newport Ocean Sailing Association (NOSA) officials learned late Saturday that three sailors in their Newport to Ensenada offshore race had died in an apparent collision with a large vessel several miles off the coast near the border.

The 37-foot Aegean was reduced to debris that looked “like it had gone through a blender,” a searcher said Sunday after the boat apparently collided with a larger vessel, killing three sailors and leaving a fourth missing. The U.S. Coast Guard, the Mexican navy and civilian vessels scoured the waters off the shore of both countries for the missing sailor before suspending their search Sunday evening. It was California’s second deadly accident this month involving an ocean race.

Race officials said they had few explanations for what may have happened to the Aegean other than it must have collided with a ship like a freighter or tanker that did not see the smaller vessel.

If the smaller boat was bobbing around in light wind, the crew might not have been able to get out of the way of a larger ship, said Rich Roberts, a spokesman for the Newport Ocean Sailing Association, the race organizer. The race goes through shipping lanes and it’s possible for a large ship to hit a sailboat and not even know it, especially at night, Roberts said.

The Coast Guard said conditions were fine for sailing, with good visibility and moderate ocean swells of 6-to-8 feet. Officials had not yet determined the cause of the accident, and would not speculate late Sunday on what ship, if any, might have collided with the sailboat. A race tracking system indicated the Aegean disappeared about 1:30 a.m. PDT (4:30 a.m. EDT) Saturday, he added.

Other yachts near the Coronado Islands in Mexico — four small, mostly uninhabited islands — reported seeing debris Saturday morning. Two of the dead were William Reed Johnson Jr., 57, of Torrance, Calif., and Joseph Lester Stewart, 64, of Bradenton, Fla. The San Diego County Medical Examiner’s office was withholding the name of the third sailor pending notification of relatives. Calls to Johnson’s and Stewart’s homes went unanswered Sunday.

The Aegean is registered to Theo Mavromatis, 49, of Redondo Beach, Calif. The race association didn’t know if he was aboard, but Gary Gilpin at Marina Sailing, which rents out the Aegean when Mavromatis isn’t using it, said the 49-year-old skipper took the yacht out earlier in the week for the competition. Gilpin said Mavromatis, an engineer, was an experienced sailor who had won the Newport to Ensenada race in the past. A woman answering a call at a number listed for Mavromatis declined to answer questions.

Eric Lamb was the first to find debris of the boat — most no larger than six inches — scattered over about two square miles Saturday as he worked safety patrol on the race. He saw a small refrigerator, a white seat cushion and empty containers of yogurt and soy milk. “We pulled a lot of boats off the rocks over the years and boats that hit the rocks, they don’t look like that. This was almost like it had gone through a blender,” said Lamb, 62.

A Coast Guard helicopter circling overhead directed him and a partner to two floating bodies. Both had severe cuts and bruises, and one of them had major head trauma. Two race participants who were in the area at the time the Aegean disappeared said they saw or heard a freighter. Cindy Arosteguy of Oxnard, Calif., remembers hearing on her radio someone say, “Do you see us?” as she saw a tanker about a half-mile away. “I got back on the radio and said, ‘Yes, I see you,'” she said. “It was definitely a freighter.”

In Ensenada, several hundred people held a minute of silence for the victims at an awards ceremony that spilled out in a courtyard from a large white canopy at a hotel that served as race headquarters. Chuck Iverson, commodore of the sailing association, said in an interview that the collision was a “fluke,” noting how common night races are along Mexico’s Baja California coast. “We’re all shocked by this whole event,” he said. The deaths are the first fatalities in the race’s 65 years, the sponsor said. Racing boats are required to use lights at night, Iverson said, although the boats are not inspected unless a competitor suspects a problem and tells race officials. The race attracts sailors of all skills, including some who are new to long distances. “You get world-class sailors and you get first-timers. That’s the good thing about it. … It’s kind of a safety-in-numbers thing,” said Lamb, who has worked safety patrol for eight years.

The Newport Beach Patch website posted a photo of the Aegean’s crew at the start of the race Friday. Four men in royal blue T-shirts are on the deck as the boat cuts through calm waters. A total of 213 boats were registered, and the winner, Robert Lane of Long Beach Yacht Club, finished Saturday in 23 hours, 26 minutes, 40 seconds. A small crowd gathered in the morning fog at an Ensenada marina to watch the remaining boats finish Sunday morning. A notice tacked to a bulletin board alongside the racing times informed spectators of the tragedy.

The deaths come two weeks after five sailors died in the waters off Northern California when their 38-foot yacht was hit by powerful waves, smashed into rocks and capsized during a race. Three sailors survived the wreck and the body of another was quickly recovered. Four remained missing until one body was recovered Thursday.

The accident near the Farallon Islands, about 27 miles west of San Francisco, prompted the Coast Guard to temporarily stop races in ocean waters outside San Francisco Bay. The Coast Guard said the suspension will allow it and the offshore racing community to study the accident and race procedures to determine whether changes are needed to improve safety. U.S. Sailing, the governing body of yacht racing, is leading the safety review, which is expected to be completed within the next month.

In 1979, a freak storm in the Irish Sea led to the deaths of 15 sailors in the Fastnet Race. In the 1998 Sydney to Hobart Race off Australia, a storm with hurricane-force winds struck the fleet in the Bass Strait, sinking several boats and killing six sailors.

Gary Jobson, president of the U.S. Sailing Association, said there have been too many accidents during races in the past year, and that the association is working to make the sport safer. “I’m horrified. I’ve done a lot of sailboat racing and I’ve hit logs in the water, and I’ve seen a man go overboard, but this takes the whole thing to a new level,” Jobson said. “We need to take a step back and take a deep breath with what we’re doing. Something is going wrong here.” Jobson said U.S. Sailing will appoint an independent panel to investigate the Ensenada incident, as it has done in the Farallon Islands accident. Article thanks to the Associated Press.

ANOTHER TRAGEDY

Only a few days ago, I was having lunch with some friends and the “Low speed chase” tragedy filtered into the conversation. He stated that t seemed almost inevitable that something bad would happen during the Bermuda Race. Great efforts are made to assure all participant’s safety.

He expressed the desire to see a panel convened to review and perhaps set new standards for safety at sea before another tragedy. It seems as though time has accelerated.

I suggested that there was no need to re-invent the wheel. The RYA yachtsman courses (in England) has a program set up in several levels and could provide a very good template.

Perhaps now is a good time to start before legislation that may be a knee jerk reaction and containing unintended consequences is proposed.

I have participated in a number of courses both here and in England. The courses are improving all the time. A little story about one of these courses may illustrate a problem that cannot be legislated. I was in a pool with my assigned group having just inflated our life raft. The goal of our exercise was to make sure our team was safe. One of our team was incapable of getting into the raft. I organized for the strongest of our group to help the team member into the raft while I acted as a counterbalanced the raft. We could not get the individual into the raft no matter what we did and remember we are in a swimming pool.

I have often been faced with decisions with rather or not to sail on certain boats and there are times when I have declined to sail on a boat for one reason or another; the condition of the boat, predicted weather, who comprised the crew.

death, again

Newport Ocean Sailing Association (NOSA) officials learned late Saturday that three sailors in their Newport to Ensenada offshore race had died in an apparent collision with a large vessel several miles off the coast near the border.

Theo Mavromatis is the owner and skipper of the sailboat Aegean, a Hunter 376 representing the Little Ships Fleet club, but it was not known if he was one of the victims. A U.S. Coast Guard helicopter led Vessel Assist to two bodies and later retrieved another. None of the bodies had been identified. A crew list was not immediately available, nor was it known how many other crew may have been on the boat, which is usually sailed by five or more persons.

The first indication of the incident was at 1:30 a.m. Saturday when the boat’s image vanished from the online race tracking system in place for the race. A Coast Guard search was launched that led to discovery of the boat’s wreckage, including the rear transom with the boat’s name on it.

An investigation was continuing, but it appeared the damage was not inflicted by an explosion but by a collision with a ship much larger than the 37-foot vessel.

The race started off Newport Beach in mid-day Friday and many boats finished in Ensenada Saturday, with the last ones due in Sunday. Weather conditions were lighter than normal at the time and place of the incident, with boats reporting winds of only 1 or 2 knots.

These would be the first fatalities in the 65-year history of the race, in which as many as 675 boats have competed in 1983 and 213 were entered this year. Discussion here.

HARD LESSONS “LOW SPEED CHASE”

This conversation is not over. I am certain many of you have your own opinions as to what happened, what should have happened and what should be done about it.

Amidst the terrible grief of our friends in San Francisco over the loss of five crew of Low Speed Chase comes the inevitable overreaction from the government and investigation by self-proclaimed experts. A boat is rolled in big surf and it’s time to ban racing outside the Gate for two months? When’s the last time fishing was banned when some johnboat was blown out to sea and lost? Loss of life is horrible, but even worse is loss of freedom. None of the dead would have wanted that, and we hope the folks at the USCG and US Sailing remember that. Anarchist “keel haulin” wrote maybe the most difficult analysis of this matter we have seen yet, but it rings true…from the “Wide Open Discussion” thread. Also, take the time to learn more about what happens to big waveswhen they come to shore.

I don’t post on this forum often; but I see lots of argument about whether Low Speed Chase was too close, and what should have been done, what equipment should be worn, etc. I’m going to go on the record here and say that everything I have read and seen about where boats were on the Crewed Farallones tells me that ALL of the boats that transited the area were in too close and that LSC got caught in a large set. I hate to burst bubbles about what people think is safe, but I think this tragedy should burst a few; and hopefully the skippers who go racing there next time will consider what I am going to say here before they also decide to round the windward side of SE Farallone two to three waves away from the break.

I’m going to say this once. It is the responsibility of the skipper of a vessel to ensure the safety of the vessel and her crew. Regardless of what happens; or how it happens. It makes little difference if the wave was ‘freak’ or larger than average. It is still the responsibility of the skipper to ask himself “WHAT IF”. With regard to the LSC tragedy; the WHAT IF should have been asked about the possibility of ANY FAILURE or sea condition that would put the boat into the danger zone. This question was not asked by the LSC skipper AND THE BOATS HE WAS FOLLOWING. Everyone else got lucky that a big set did not arrive and smash them into the shore.

The NW end of SE Farallone is a reef. Anything 10 fathoms or less is “reef depth” and a potential break zone. The topology of the break zone is similar to the Mavericks reef. On days when there are large seas; this area would look like a big day at Mavericks. If the seas are 12-15 feet, large sets of waves that are 20-25 feet should be expected. In normal offshore sailing conditions these swells are noticed but not dangerous. When they run up onto a reef (a shallowing zone) they turn into 30-40′ monsters. They break much further out than the ‘normal’ break zone. These waves are not uncommon and they are not to be ‘unexpected’. Based on photos and looking at charts; being 125 yards outside of the break zone would put the LSC and other transiting boats in a depth of 30-40 feet. It’s too close to a lee shore/reef with large breakers. I’m sorry but that’s just the way it is. Mistakes were made by the skippers who sailed through the area in those conditions. We all need to accept it and learn from it; and stop bickering about what people don’t want to accept (that the skippers who sailed through that reef were all doing the wrong thing).

Waves of this magnitude put all bets off in terms of survivability on the boat, tethered on, or off. The three that survived were lucky. Everyone onboard were in grave danger before the wave broke. In a breaking surf wave, jacklines, tethers, and harnesses, will snap like weak rubber bands. They are not designed to withstand these types of loads. If they did stand up to it the forces on the human body would be deadly. While I agree that staying onboard is paramount to crew safety (“don’t fall off the boat”); there is another cardinal rule that supersedes it. It’s “give lee shores a wide berth”. If that had been done we would not be talking about what the sailors should be wearing. If change is to come from this (and it should) it should be for a call from within the racing community for racecourse laylines/waypoints or off-limits depth contours.

I’m pretty sure the USCG suspended racing so the racing organizations can get their shit together and come up with some ‘lessons learned’ mitigation for this tragedy; so that public outcry can be tamed. Otherwise expect the USCG to be up everyone’s ass who goes racing; especially racers going outside of the bay.

LOW SPEED CHASE

the story from sailing anarchy

Bryan Chong is a surviving crew member of the Sydney 38 Low Speed Chase which lost the lives of five people during the disastrous Full Crew Farallones Race in San Francisco. Here, he tells his story.

This letter goes out to a devastated sailing community still confused about the events surrounding the 2012 Full Crew Farallones Race. There have been inaccuracies in the media, mostly stemming from the survivors’ silence as James (“Jay”), Nick and I are still reeling from tragedy and the loss of close friends and loved ones.

I’ve chosen to use Sailing Anarchy for distributing this story because they’re of a kindred spirit and were the favorites amongst the crew of Low Speed Chase and those who already know the answer to the question, “Why would you sail in the ocean on a windy day with big swells?”

I’ve also included the Marin Independent Journal and The Tiburon Ark, as they’re the hometown newspapers in an area teeming with sailors. Many sailors relocate from around the world to Marin and the Tiburon Peninsula in order to live in proximity to the world’s best sailing. Alan Cahill moved from Cork, Ireland to race sailboats professionally in the Bay Area and the Pacific Ocean. He was the best man in our wedding and will be dearly missed while I journey this planet.

This letter does not contain every detail, but my account should provide a basic understanding of our day on the water and what happened after the first wave hit our boat. It is meant both to illustrate how things can look normal until one event changes everything and to begin to address what we can learn. It’s my hope and intention that it will spark a wider dialogue within the sailing community about safety standards and, more importantly, safety practices.

Why do we sail?

A sailor’s mind set is no different from that of any other athlete who chooses to participate in a sport that has some risk. It’s a healthy addiction. Despite the highly publicized deaths of Sonny Bono and Michael Kennedy, skiers all over the world continue to hit the slopes each winter. Sitting on the couch is safer than ripping down a slope, but the reward makes the risk worthwhile.

Next, we should all agree there are a wide variety of interests within the sailing community. Some sailors prefer racing to cruising, small boats to big, or lakes to oceans. We all make personal decisions about the risks we’re willing to take to enjoy our own brand of sailing.

Naturally, I have personal preferences. I most enjoy one-design and ocean racing. I generally consider sailing to be at its finest when you’re coming around a mark alongside 20 identical boats, or when you’re in the ocean with a kite up on a windy day, the wave action is perfect and you’re surfing downwind at speeds usually reserved for powerboats. I was a guest crew member on Low Speed Chase and I got the sense the others were seeking the same downhill ride back from the Farallones as I was. There were eight sailors on board: one professional, six experienced sailors and one sailor excited for his first ocean race.

The Start Line

It’s Saturday April 14, 2012 around 8:30 in the morning. Seven of us are aboard Low Speed Chase as we leave the San Francisco Yacht Club in Belvedere. We head across the bay and swing through the Golden Gate Yacht Club in San Francisco, where Jay hops on from the docks. We motor to the St. Francis race deck start line. Alan grabs the handheld and with the brevity learned from years of flying small planes says, in a heavy Irish accent, “Farallon Race Committee, Sydney 38 Low Speed Chase 38009. Checking in. 8 souls on board.” No response. He repeats and the voice on the receiver sounds back, “Confirmed, Low Speed Chase. Thank you.”

We raise our sails as we traverse the starting area, checking currents and winds and working out a starting strategy. Meanwhile, the crew double-checks sails, lines, safety equipment, and clothing layers. Today our starting strategy, unlike buoy racing in the bay, is simple: avoid an over-early penalty. This is especially true given the light winds and ebb tide.

A few minutes before the start, someone notices that the reef line for the main isn’t tied. Our new Quantum sails were delivered only a couple of days before. They still have that stiff new-sail feel that never lasts long enough. It’s going to be a windy day and we need to rig it before we get out in the ocean. I have a harness in my sail bag but Nick is already wearing his. He clips into a halyard and 5 feet up he goes to tie on the line. Alexis grabs his foot to guide him down the boom, and after a few minutes we are ready to get underway.

“Boom!” First Gun

We are well behind the start line but as the countdown continues we realize our distraction has taken us slightly outside the starting box. The air is still and we’re trying to trim our sails to squeeze everything we can from one knot of wind.

The start gun goes off and we’re still fighting to get inside the box. Ebb is not our friend today and we soon find that we’ve drifted past the start line without going through the designated gate, so we’ll have to backtrack for a proper start. The pressure seems to be hiding just under the Golden Gate Bridge, almost like it’s mocking us. It kind of reminds me of Friday night races in Belvedere Cove when the wind shuts down right before the start but continues to tease you from out in the bay.

Already critical of our “start”, we anxiously wait for the wind to fill so we can make it back to the line. “Should we pop the kite?” gets floated for a second but it’s killed when the wind dies to nothing. We’re floating backwards toward the bridge and our drift takes us abeam of Anita Rock. We decide to anchor to prevent any more backwards “progress”. Jay pulls the anchor from down below and Jordan heaves it into the bay from the bow. Other boats that have started the race now begin to sail – rather, float – past us. A few find humor in our plight and aren’t shy to share. Even Berkeley, a regular crew member on Low Speed Chase who couldn’t make the race due to an injury texts “nice start…” to Alexis from the shore.

Finally, the wind begins to fill in behind us. Dislodging the anchor is another challenge but with a winch, a halyard, and some muscle from Marc, we bring it up it from the bottom of the bay.

By the time we make it across the start line our botched start has cost us over an hour. Our objective for the race has changed now, and the only victory we’re hoping for is to avoid the notorious DFL.

The Uphill Slog

Non-sailors often ask what it’s like to sail in the ocean, and what’s the appeal. I usually compare it to back country skiing or mountain biking. The reward is in the descent. You work through the uphill portion in exchange for the downwind ride when your boat flattens, apparent wind drops to a light breeze and, on the right day, your boat skips along as it planes and surfs down the front side of swells.

As we sail under the Golden Gate Bridge, Peter Lyons clicks a picture from the shore. We tack a few times and set up a starboard lay-line that we will stay on for the rest of the day as we head out to the Farallon Islands. The skies are clear and we’re seeing 20-23 knots. It’s always been hard for me to gauge swell height from the water. Each swell has its own personality. To me it seems the seas are 10-12 feet with larger sets around 15 feet.

The upwind leg is uneventful and we fill the quiet moments with our usual banter. We tease Elmer about his difficulty emptying his bladder. Jordan snaps at Alan for being Alan. All in all, it’s turning out to be a beautiful day on the ocean with conditions as expected. The wind and swells are big but consistent in speed and direction. Nick, Alan, Jordan, Jay and I all take turns on the wheel, maintaining between 7.5 to 8.5 knots of upwind boat-speed.

The mood on the boat is relaxed. We chat about which of our three kites will be safest for the ride home. We’ve accepted our place in the back of the pack now, so there is no need to risk equipment or safety. Our mind set is definitely not aggressive. We peeled to our smallest jib just outside the bridge and there’s no need to reef the main since we aren’t being overpowered.

We set up earlier in the day for a port rounding or “taking it from the top” as I’d heard it referenced amongst sailing buddies. I’ve done a number of day-long ocean races to Monterey, Half Moon Bay and buoys like the lightbucket. This is my first race to the Farallones – a race that I’ve wanted to do for years. My anticipation heightens as our boat approaches the islands.

Around the Island

The Farallon Islands have a rugged, haunting beauty about them but there’s no time for sightseeing as we approach. The waves and wind have steadily built and we start seeing scattered white caps. As the conditions intensify, I’m on the main and Alan – by far the best driver with the most ocean experience – is on the wheel.

We soon approach the first rocky point on the northeast corner of the island. The swells are much larger and the wind has been building. We saw another boat pass a few minutes earlier on an outside line. Behind us, one boat is outside of us and another appears to be on our same line.

There’s a YouTube video titled “Crewed Farallones April 14, 2012” showing the Santa Cruz 50, Deception, and several other boats rounding the island. They would have rounded about an hour before us in similar, if not slightly lighter, conditions. The video shows the difference in swell sizes before, during and after rounding the island. Michael Moradzadeh, who thankfully radioed in the initial distress call, notes that the video doesn’t do justice to the intensity of the day. I agree, but it does provide a good baseline for those who didn’t make the race. As I watch the video, Deception’s route feels eerily similar to our own. In fact, when we passed the first point I think we were just slightly outside of their line.

The South Farallones consist of two primary islands, which together form a crescent with its arms toward the north. Between the two northern points we begin to crack off the sails into a close reach as we head toward the next point. The boat in the “Crewed Farallones” video had about the same amount of sail trim but it appears they turned after we did. Our route takes us inside the line of Deception and closer to the island.

Fellow sailors can relate to trimming sails during intense racing or weather conditions. We assimilate data in a series of snapshots taken from within the boat and across the race course. I suspect that’s the reason sailors show up to race protest rooms with 5 different accounts of an incident that happened at a speed no faster than a run.

I’ve been asked by investigators, friends and family just how close we were to the rocky coastline. Truthfully, this is one of the most difficult questions to answer; my focus was almost purely on the distance to the beginning of the break zone. Staying away from the rocks was a secondary concern to staying away from the breakers – an ocean feature that has scared me since long before this weekend. Swells are fine. Breakers aren’t.

As we approach the second point I estimate we’re inside of 10 boat lengths – which is 128 yards on a Sydney 38 – from the beginning of the break zone. Our distance looks safe and no one on the boat comments. I catch a glance of clear swells off the port side of the boat between the break zone and us. We keep sailing. The boat is heeled toward the island. Alan is driving, I’m trimming main, and everyone else is on the rail.

Then, we come across the largest swell we’ve seen all day. It begins to crest but we pass over it before it breaks. Thirty seconds later, we will not have such luck.

The Wave

I see another wave approaching in the distance. It’s coming from the same direction as the other swells but it’s massive. I’ve seen large waves before but this is unlike anything I’ve ever seen outside of big-wave surf videos.

As the wave approaches it begins to face up, its front flattening as it crests. By the time our boat meets it, there’s no escape route. Alan steers the boat into the wave and the bow of Low Speed Chase ascends the breaking wave, which seconds sooner would have been a giant swell and seconds later would have already broken. Instead, we’re heading into a crashing wall of water with 9-10 knots of boat-speed and it breaks directly on us. I lock my right arm to the bottom lifeline and brace for the impact. The last thing I see is the boat tipping toward vertical with a band of water still above it. A single thought races through my head: “This is going to be bad.”

After the Impact

I was underwater until the boat righted itself. Confused and disoriented I looked around while water cleared off the deck. Nick and I were the only ones still on the boat. The sails were shredded, the mast snapped and every flotation device had been ripped off. We immediately began to try pulling our crewmembers back into the boat but a second wave hit us from behind. This one ripped me off the boat and into the break zone. Nick barely managed to stay aboard as the boat was tossed by the breakers onto the rocks.

I couldn’t tell if I was in the water for a minute or an hour, but according to Nick it was about 15 minutes. People have asked me if I swam for shore. The best way to describe the water in the break zone is a washing machine filled with boulders. You don’t really swim. The water took me where it wanted to take me, and when I was finally able to climb from the surf onto low rocks I heard Nick shouting from the distance for me to get to higher ground. Together we located Jay further down the shoreline. He was out of the surf but trapped on a rock surrounded by cliffs. From what we could see, nobody else had been able to climb to safety.

As for what happened in that first wave, my head was down and I initially thought we might have pitch-poled. Nick, who broke his leg while it was wrapped around a stanchion and had a better view, tells me the boat surfed backwards with the wave for a stretch then rotated 90 degrees counter-clockwise before the wave finally barrel rolled it. This seems logical and explains how we ended up pointed back the same direction we started.

The US Coast Guard and Air National Guard performed the rescue operation with a level of professionalism that reinforces their sterling reputation for assistance during these types of emergencies. We’re incredibly fortunate to have these resources available in our country. If we had been in another ocean off another coast then Jay, Nick and I may not have been rescued.

Correcting the News

There have been various inaccuracies in the news of what happened that Saturday. I believe they stem mostly from misinterpreted information. For example, many sources reported that we attempted to turn the boat around to help other crew members after the first wave hit. This is not accurate. I believe our statement immediately upon being rescued that, “we turned around [while on the boat] to get people out of the water” somehow became “we turned the boat around to get people out of the water”.

Additionally, some assumed Jay, the boat’s owner, was driving. While one person can be the owner, captain, skipper and driver, this is often not the case. Jay loves sailing but uses professionals like Alan to coordinate his sailing program. This had always been the case with Low Speed Chase and it was no different this day.

Reflections

The sailing community might want to know what we could have done differently that day. It all really centers on a broader commitment to safety – preparation that happens before you get on the boat to race. When sailors “talk sailing” it’s usually about winds, currents, tactics, rules or the events of the day – not about safety. I almost never hear conversations about the benefits of different life jacket models, pros and cons of tethers or about practicing man-overboard drills before a race.

That day we had all the mandatory safety equipment including two installed jack lines. Everyone was wearing life jackets and there were 8 tethers on the boat – mine around my neck. Unfortunately, none of us were clipped in when the wave hit. I can’t speak for other ocean sailors, but I’d reached a level of comfort where I’d only tether at night, when using the head off the back of the boat, or when the conditions were really wild. It’s simply a bad habit that formed due to a false sense of security in the ocean. “Besides,” I’d say to myself, “I can just clip in when something bad is about to happen…”

It’s obvious to me now that I should have been clipped into the boat at every possible opportunity. Nevertheless, arguments for mobility and racing effectiveness over safety are not lost on me. Some safety measures can indeed limit maneuvers, but if you’re going to spend an hour driving, trimming or hiking in the same spot, why not clip in? Additionally, there are legitimate concerns about being crushed by the boat. Those 15 minutes in the water were the absolute scariest in my life. The boat was the place to be – inside or out.

Until the accident, I believed that to tether or not was a personal choice. But now, my thinking extends beyond the safety of an individual to that of the team as a whole. Here’s the logic: If I’d been tethered when the first wave hit, I would have needed to unclip to help the others who were overboard, then I’d have been hit by the second wave and still ended up in the water. Crews need to talk as a team about tethering strategies. One person overboard puts the entire crew at risk, as others might need to unclip to quickly maneuver the boat back to their location.

I truly consider myself lucky to have a second chance at life with my wife and 8-week-old son. Looking back, there were a number of factors that might have helped me survive in those waters. After years on the foredeck, I wear shin guards, ankle pads, neoprene kneepads, full-finger gloves, Dubarry boots, full foul-weather gear and no cotton fabrics. I also wear my auto inflate personal floatation device (PFD) for ocean races. Additionally, the well used gym membership my wife got me early last year was invaluable. Luck was truly on my side but I also think that maybe I left the door open for it.

There are other lessons that can and should be learned from the incident. My auto-inflate suspenders inflated as designed. However, my manual override cord was tucked away and unreachable – a practice amongst sailors who are worried about an accidental opening. A PFD with a crotch strap would have been far better. It would have held the device down and freed up my hands to climb out of the water or swim. My built-in PFD harness was also too loose and I was concerned about it slipping off. A rash guard would have been a worthwhile layer for warmth. All flotation devices attached to the back of the boat were ripped off by the first large wave. And it’s important to consider the advantages and disadvantages of each PFD and make sure it matches the conditions. Safety lessons shouldn’t have to be learned the hard way.

Hopefully this incident will spur a wider discussion on sailboat safety. However, the biggest lesson I learned that day wasn’t about any piece of equipment. It was about taking personal responsibility for my own safety. Our EPIRB, a water-activated GPS tracking device, fortunately went off as intended, but who double-checked the batteries that morning? It wasn’t me and I didn’t ask who did.

It’s my wish that no crew or community will ever go through what we’ve endured from this tragic accident. The memorial flotilla on Saturday for my lost crewmates was by far the most touching memorial I’ve ever seen. I watched from the SFYC host boat as over a hundred sailboats and powerboats, many filled to capacity, came together on the water in a display of something beautiful and heartwarming in the midst of a week filled with terrible pain and sorrow.

At a service this weekend, I heard a quote from a 1962 speech by John F. Kennedy to America’s Cup competitors that, in my mind, captures the essence of our fascination with the sea:

“I really don’t know why it is that all of us are so committed to the sea, except I think it is because in addition to the fact that the sea changes and the light changes, and ships change, it is because we all came from the sea. And it is an interesting biological fact that all of us have in our veins the exact same percentage of salt in our blood that exists in the ocean, and, therefore, we have salt in our blood, in our sweat, in our tears. We are tied to the ocean. And when we go back to the sea, whether it is to sail or to watch it we are going back from whence we came.”

Alan, Marc, Jordan, Alexis and Elmer. Keep your rig tuned, your kite full and your foulies dry. We’ll one day finish our race together. Comment here.

Bryan Chong
Saturday Crew on Sydney 38 Low Speed Chase

TRAGEDY IN THE FARALLON RACE

1 dead, 4 missing in California yacht race accident

Published April 15, 2012

| Associated Press

SAN FRANCISCO – A powerful wave swept four crew members off a sailboat during a race near San Francisco, leaving one person dead and four others missing, the Coast Guard said early Sunday.

The eight-member crew aboard the 38-foot Low Speed Chase was participating in a yacht race from San Francisco Bay around the Farallon Islands on Saturday afternoon as their craft ran aground.

Seas were running high at 10-12 feet when the Low Speed Chase was hit by a larger wave and the four were washed overboard, Coast Guard Petty Officer Levi Read said.

“They turned the boat around to go rescue those people and they got hit by another wave,” sending the boat onto rocks, he said.

A Mayday call reporting the accident went out at about 3 p.m. PDT.

Coast Guard and National Guard helicopters and water craft rescued three crew members who were clinging to rocks, Read said. The body of the other crew member was pulled from the water.

A Coast Guard helicopter, a cutter and a smaller boat were searching the waters around the islands, 27 miles west of San Francisco, as well as shoreline areas early Sunday for the missing crew members.

Dozens of boats were registered for the Full Crew Farallones Race, running from the St. Francis Yacht Club on San Francisco Bay to the islands and back, about 60 miles round trip, Read said.

Rescuers found the three crew members on or near the shore clinging to rocks, about 300 feet from where their vessel was breaking up because of the powerful waves, he said.

They were wearing life vests and cold weather gear — equipment that gave rescuers hope in the search for the missing.

“There is the possibility that the other four were also in the same kind of gear,” Read said.

He said he didn’t know if the four missing were the same crew members who were swept from the boat.

The search was expected to continue through the night, as long as there was a chance there were survivors, the Coast Guard said.

The names of the eight crew members were not released, and there was no immediate word on the condition of the three survivors.

The Yacht Racing Association of San Francisco Bay expressed sympathy for the dead crew member and hope for those missing.

“We offer our thoughts and prayers to the family and friends of the missing crew in hopes they are returned home safely,” the association said in a statement on its website.

The San Francisco Chronicle reported that the Low Speed Chase is based out of the San Francisco Yacht Club, located in Marin County’s Belvedere Cove. The manager of the club declined immediate comment.

BEING IN THE RIGHT PLACE

Today is St. Patrick’s Day, a big day in Newport with a parade and everyone wearing a grin. Tucked in a corner is the CCA’s Safety At Sea Seminar; typically held every March in Newport in preparation for the Bermuda Race.

We must remember this is a 4 day race, 6oo miles. Not really a long time; it does get you offshore away from land but not for long. I don’t need to attend as I qualified last year for the the transatlantic race, 3000 miles, and 16 days.

The way to win this race is being in the right place for weather and to maximize the benefit of the Gulf Stream. It is far more important than sailing fast. The people in the following pictures can help put you in the right place.

MAN OVERBOARD

First of all, that a video camera was in use is a symptom of the world today. wow. I too have experienced being under a turtled boat and tangled in lines and rigging. It is the event that made me realize that a sheath knife accessible with either hand is essential, not a folding knife.

Have a safe and happy thanksgiving. I guess thanksgiving is a holiday where we reflect on family and friends. I hope you are all able to have a moment of reflection.