Your Life Raft Might Not Save Your Life...

Image found here.

...in fact, it might not even inflate in your hour of need.  And I don't think I need to tell anyone just how badly that would suck considering the general rule of thumb is not to step into a life raft until your primary vessel has all but sunk from underneath you.

One of the perks of this blog is the fact that we have some pretty savvy followers who have advised, assisted and helped us on more than one occasion.  Many are active cruisers and sailors and pretty keen to share pertinent information with us when they see fit, and we have benefitted many times thanks to the brains of others.

Brian, a blog follower turned friend who actually helped us deliver our boat from the Bahamas to the BVI's back in May, just sent us the following excerpt from a thread on life rafts in an Allberg 30 forum he belongs to.  Knowing that we have a canister life raft stowed on the deck of our boat, he thought we might find it "of interest".  I most certainly did find it interesting and I think you will too so I am reprinting it here for you.  The following is reposted with the permission of the author, Gord Laco, who happens to be a marine historical consultant with a very interesting and very impressive resume.  In fact, I would very much like to meet the man!

Good day - 

My only direct experience with life rafts was when I served as a consultant on the television show 'Survivorman' in which Les Stroud is sent into various environments and copes for five days with what one might expect to have at hand. Sometimes he's been in the desert, sometimes a swamp, the one I did with him was assuming he'd had to abandon a yacht at sea and live in a life raft for five days. 

The production company made a deal with a popular life raft company for the use of one of their four person life rafts; but they backed out at the last minute suggesting that a five day test of a life raft was unrealistic...their representative said 'in this day and age anyone anywhere should expect rescue in two days'. 

I reckon he doesn't read the news nor books much. 

We were in a pickle; there we were in Belize about to set Les adrift but without a raft. I hit upon the idea of renting a raft from a yacht actually on a voyage; there were several yachts around, I knew people would probably be glad of the cash and it would add an interesting story point to be using a 'real' raft in the midst of a voyage. 

The first two rafts we tried (and you can guess where this is going) which had both been stored in on-deck canisters, inflated correctly when the lanyard was pulled. The first literally fell to pieces before our eyes. You should have seen the look on the owner's face. The glue had perished and the raft sank as a bunch of sheets of hypalon rubber. 

The second raft didn't quite fall to pieces, but it leaked so badly that we couldn't use it. You should have seen the look on that fellow's face too. 

The third raft blew up and...and.... Stayed inflated. However, when we opened the emergency kit, we found twice the amount of food in the container, but no water. You should have seen the look on that fellow's face. 

Each of these rafts were by name-brand manufacturers you'd all know. The first two were older, past their first and second "re-pack" cycles and had been stored in deck canisters and I reckon baking in the sun is what did them in. The first one was three years past it's repack date, the second one year past, as was the third. 

We gave Les a very old Zodiac inflatable boat (editor note: to use in conjunction with the third life raft) reckoning that it was reasonable to assume a sailor abandoning ship would bring his dink. 

Les ended up living during the day in the life raft to get out of the sun, but he had to work steadily to keep it inflated and also bailed out. It leaked through it's bottom. 

The ancient Zodiac however, performed flawlessly and he slept in it at night. Which was fine except when it rained in which case he really suffered. 

So what did I come away from that with? Always observe the repack dates. And with regard to stowage - most certainly on-deck stowage is best with regard to getting the raft over the side; but beware the effect of the sun baking your raft while you're sailing. I'd suggest only putting it out on deck when you're making a passage. 

Well there's another long message, I hope it's interesting.

Gord

So there you have it.

Just like everything related to cruising, there are vast and passionate arguments on the necessity and/or practicality of having a dedicated "life raft" on board (some say a dinghy will do just fine and that to spend so much money on something that is akin to potentially bad insurance isn't worth it or that having one is false security and might cause you to "abandon ship" when, really, you should not).  While I am certainly glad we have our life raft on deck (and, yes, it is current) - this definitely gives us something to think about... (and yet another "action item" on our to do list: make sure life raft is regularly serviced).  Safety gear is something we have plenty of on our boat (we are, after all, super conservative cruisers) and it's sort of assumed it will work as planned, but there are many stories of such items (including inflatable PFD's) not working properly - or at all - when they are needed most which is a very good way to make a really, really bad situation infinitely worse.  Not sure what the answer is, but it's definitely something to be mindful of before you head out to the big blue and begin selecting your safety gear.

Thank you, Gord Laco, your knowledge and findings and thank you, Brian, for sharing them with us. 

Swimming at Anchor: You're Not Always Safe in the Water

And, no, I am not talking about sharks here.  Bad things seem to be happening to folks around us which, I must admit, is slightly unnerving.  First, there was the attack on the cruisers in the anchorage next to us, then our very good friends had their dinghy stolen (miraculously it was recovered), and - to add insult to injury (or visa versa) - one of those same friends was a potentially deadly accident while swimming in a popular anchorage.

Most boat folks love the water.  The two sort of go hand in hand.  Our friend, Mario, is no exception and everywhere he and his beautiful partner, Karine, sail they take to the water to either spearfish, swim or snorkel.  They also happen to be supremely awesome and kind people so when mutual friends of ours anchored nearby, Mario offered to dive their anchor for them (a good habit to get into each time you drop the hook to make sure your anchor is properly set and dug in, we do this every time we anchor).  As he was swimming over to the boat, another cruiser's dinghy came zooming through the anchorage at top speed, oblivious to the fact that Mario was in the water.  Our friend, Eugene, who was on the bow of boat who's anchor was being checked screamed at the dinghy to tell them there was a swimmer in the water - but it was too late.  They never saw Mario and ran over him with their boat.  Luckily, Mario was able to dive down far enough to ensure the hit was not lethal (this sort of accident can absolutely be deadly) but he still suffered lacerations on his back from the propeller, and recieved several severe bruises on his head and shoulder as a result.  It is truly a miracle it was not worse and we are so happy he will be fine.

There are two very important lessons to take away from this near tragedy:

1. Be a cautious and watchful dinghy driver at ALL times:  but especially when you are driving through an anchorage.  When you are motoring through a crowded anchorage, do not go at top speed and be very mindful that there might be swimmers in the water.  Proceed with caution and keep a watchful eye.  Same goes for driving your big boat (though they rarely hit the speeds that dinghies do).
2. As a swimmer, do NOT assume you can be seen.  If you are swimming in a busy/crowded anchorage do not assume other boaters can see you, it is surprisingly difficult to see a lone swimmer or snorkeler in the water, especially during certain light.  Take precaution and use some sort of personal safety buoy (no affiliation) to alert dinghies and local boats to your whereabouts.  You do not need to buy anything fancy, a simple white milk jug or an old (brightly colored) life jacket attached to a tether could do the trick as well.

The swim buoy Mario and Karine will tow from now on to help ensure they are seen in the water.

Big thanks to Mario and Karine of The Good Life for letting us share their story in the hopes of helping others.

Photos courtesy of Mario and Karine of The Good Life catamaran.

Keeping it Real

It's been brought to my attention that we, and specifically this blog, have (literally) launched several ships and more than a few dreams.  This is incredibly flattering if not a little scary.  To get an email that reads: "We just bought a boat and will start cruising next year - after we learn to sail, of course - all because of your blog, so thank you!" makes me realize that my musings actually have some power and are no longer just me sharing my rose-colored thoughts and experiences.  I keep waiting for the day when I get a hateful message from someone who sold everything, bought a boat and sailed off into the sunset only to curse us every single minute of their dreadful cruising existence.  "You lied!!" they would say, spitting venom though the interwebz, "You made me believe that cruising was magical and it SUCKS!  My crappy boat is small, hot and constantly broken and my wife left me for an incredibly fit twenty-five year old Mexican scuba instructor.  I have nothing and it's all YOUR FAULT!!" Then, in my imagination, they would threaten me with litigation because almost always in this fantasy these folks are American, and what does an American love more than a good old fashioned law suit?

While I do tend to accentuate the positives of this life, I also believe I do a fair job at balancing this out with some brutal honesty as well.  I will continue on this trajectory - but in an effort to "keep it real" I want to share with you two accounts of people who's cruising fantasies didn't quite go as planned.  Realistic expectations, in my opinion, are crucial (mandatory?) to being happy in life, travel, relationships, etc...so reading these two accounts will show you the flip side to the pretty pictures and whimsical Facebook updates.  Brace yourself.  These are brutally honest accounts and one of these stories is tragically heartbreaking.

Here is the account of a couple of cruisers who are throwing in the towel after the harsh realization that they actually didn't enjoy cruising and have decided to "swallow the anchor" as it were and sell their boat. 

And here is the tragic tale of a couple of cruisers who, after a series of unfortunate events coupled with severe mental anguish, decided to abandon their boat - and their dreams of cruising - in the Pacific.

Both of these stories should provide a good dose of "yin" to my "yang", and should be read by anyone who is considering a life afloat because sometimes, it's not all it's cracked up to be, and that's totally okay.

The Tragic Demise of the HMS Bounty

Image of the Bounty via the Bounty Facebook Page

For obvious reasons, tragedies at sea strike close to my heart.  Really close.  They always have, in fact.  I remember being a young girl and being completely and utterly obsessed with the Titanic.  I read every book I could get my twelve year old hands on about it.  It broke my little heart to imagine this beautiful, "unsinkable", behemoth of a ship going down with all her passengers, changing lives and destinies for eternity.  Images from those books are forever etched into my mind's eye: a woman laying in her bunk, clutching her baby as the ship goes down.  A husband and wife waiting on the rail, holding hands in solidarity as they neared their fate.  The band bravely playing their music until the very end.  I was deeply moved by these haunting images and their suspects who were no longer of this world; they represented the fragility of life and the uncertainty of the sea.

This depth of feeling I had as a child has not abated.  For better or worse, I feel it all and I am completely gutted by the loss of the H.M.S. Bounty.  When I opened my twitter feed yesterday morning and saw the news she had been abandoned by her crew, my heart dropped.  As the morning went on and details emerged that two crew members were missing and the majestic ship had surrendered to the raging waters of the Atlantic, my heart sank further.  Having been at sea in less than ideal conditions (but never in anything remotely close to a hurricane) I can only imagine what the captain and his crew were dealing with.  The emotions they felt.  The fear and adrenaline that pulsed through their veins.  The uncertainty of what lay ahead.  When raw nature bears her teeth at you, it's scary.  I have been in two life and death situations in my life, and I can tell you two things: 1) it's surreal and 2) you think very, very clearly.  You are wide-eyed and you will never be more present than in those moments.  That's my experience anyway.

Image taken by the Coast Guard of the sinking Bounty.

I think this loss strikes me particularly hard because Scott is the captain of a tall ship who could very easily be faced with a similar situation.  While it is easy to get all puffed up and lay blame on the Captain and say careless things about the fateful decision he made, it must be said that he was a very respected seaman with many ocean miles beneath him.  He obviously felt that what he was doing was best for his crew and his ship.  In life there are times when we must take calculated risks.  Each and every one of us has done it.  Sometimes those risks pay off, sometimes they don't.  I am reminded of the ill-fated final voyage of the Albatross and the tragedy of the Fantome.  Both are cautionary tales of incredible ships who met their fates at the hands of nature with capable men at their helm.  Both stories break my heart into a million little pieces each time I read about them.

At the time of writing this, fourteen of sixteen crew members are safe ashore.  One of the missing crew members, Claudine Christian, was found unresponsive and pronounced dead shortly after.  The captain, Mr. Robin Walbridge, is still lost at sea.  While the loss of these two sailors is devastating, this tragedy could have been a total catastrophe if not for the heroics of the men and women of the US Coast Guard who rescued the fourteen survivors.  It is an incredibly brave feat to routinely risk your life to save the life of a stranger and this is exactly what they do, day in and day out.  These men and women are true heros.

My heart and prayers go out to the entire Bounty family.  She was a majestic ship who's site I'm sure ignited a thousand dreams and let loose countless imaginations.  The seas are a little less beautiful without her sailing on them.  May she rest in peace.