Bermuda to Nova Scotia the final night and our rescue

“32:22.80N 64:40.53W”

7008 Miles since leaving Sandwich.

7^th June 2023

As evening approached on the 5^th we were still keeping to our regular 6 hour calls with Halifax coast guard and making reasonable progress, distance to go under 100 miles. The weather was due to get bad and then settle later in the evening with the risk of a dead patch behind us catching up and stopping progress so we were pushing on in 20 plus knots of wind as best as we could. The tide changed and we were struggling to keep on a heading that would take us into Halifax approaches and our rendezvous with the local coast guard cutter. At about 15:00 the wind picked up to force 7-8 and the sea became very confused, by 17:00 we had been knocked down several times by violent 4 metre waves and things were getting tough. Our port top guard wire and gate had been swept away and the rear gate had lost its’ catch when we were pooped. Norma checked the bilges 18:00 and found them full of water and started pumping. She could not get into the forward heads as the door had jammed in the frame and I had to kick that open.

The pumps were not keeping up with the inflow and at this point I believed that we were sinking, at approximately 18:30 I initiated a Mayday call on VHF, activated the DSC distress calls on both VHF and HF radios plus set off our EPIRB distress beacon. I also tried to call the coast Guard in Halifax on the Iridium phone which of course took this moment to stop working. After telling the Iridium exactly what I thought of it I had to take the battery out in order to get it to turn off and when it came back alive it was working again. I contacted Halifax who confirmed that they had seen our distress call and that the RO-RO car transporter Manon was on its way and would be with us in 20 minutes. They had also activated the SAR Coastguard vessel The Earl Gray which was leaving Halifax with an eta to us of 3 hours.

I then went in search of the leak as the pumps were still not dropping the water level which was up to the floor now. Under the forward heads sink I found that the sink outlet pipe had partially dislodged, I assume due to the violent knockdowns. That was an easy fix, I shut off the seacock and water stopped rushing in every time we rolled to port. I then noticed that the athwart ship beam that runs across the forward heads was twisted, there was a crack in the woodwork of the cabinet where the beam ran through it and there was a lot of water finding its’ way below, I assume via the mast step fixing bolts. On deck Tony reported that all forward and aft lower shrouds were loose and the mast was moving but not much. With the pumps now beginning to make progress on the estimated 2 tonnes of water that we had taken on board I took stock of the situation. Norma had fallen across the boat and sprained her ankle, Tony was the greatest concern as he was visibly shivering uncontrollably, his lips were blue and we could not get him warmed up even though we had stuffed a hot water bottle up inside of his waterproof jacket. I had bruised my ribs quite badly which to be honest only hurt when I stopped rushing about. I contacted Halifax and updated them with the information that we had stopped sinking but we could not sail to windward as the mast was in danger of breaking plus our foresail had ripped, our engine was inoperative, and that we still needed assistance urgently. As this call was underway the RO-RO car transporter Manon arrived on scene and called us on the radio. They informed the coast guard that the sea conditions were too rough for them to launch their boat but they would stand off upwind and keep us in their lee. They moved about 500 meters upwind of us and the sea state noticeably decreased where we were which was a welcome break. At this point the wind was 30 knots gusting to 40 regularly and the sea state was waves of 4 to 5 meters.

The RO-RO Manon arrives on scene.

Tony huddled in the cockpit keeping watch while Norma began to fill our grab bags with essentials expecting us to be lifted off by the coast guard when they arrived. I took down the remaining mainsail while we enjoyed the break offered by the Manon and also furled away the remains of the foresail which had developed a 1-metre rip at the clew. With the remaining staysail and half of the mizzen I hove too and helped Norma with packing our worldly possessions. At about approximately 21:45 the Earl Gray arrived and was not the 70ft vessel that we expected but was 70 meters a blaze of deck lights and absolutely terrifying as it came close. Communicating to us by VHF they asked us to head to windward and came alongside to pass a line. As they approached the poor man on the low aft deck who had the unenviable job of throwing us the line actually went fully underwater several times as their aft deck was swamped. He got a line across to us but as I Leapt to grab it my lifeline pulled short and within fingertips reach it slid back over the side. They came round again for a second attempt but this time as they came alongside a wave lurched us together. Crouched on the starboard side deck I was faced with a wall of red steel as they clattered down our side rail. I looked across into the face of a deckhand who was close enough to shake hands with and I assume my eyes were as dinner plate sized as his. Unfortunately, he wasn’t the one with the rope and as I crouched there they slipped away again.  This bump had bent two of our stanchions, torn the teak railing off the side by the starboard boarding gate, and our bag for the sheet lines was gone leaving the sheets trailing in the water. We had escaped significant damage and I recovered the sheets before their next pass. This time they didn’t get close enough to attempt a throw and pulled ahead about 50 meters. The skipper came onto the VHF and asked us to try heading down wind which we did. With Tony on the helm Spectra went to over 7 knots with just a scrap of sail up and the Earl Gray tried again. Yet again they couldn’t get close enough to pass a line and I must admit that at this point I was beginning to seriously think that we could die out there.

The wind was over 30 knots and the swell was 5 meter plus by the coast guard estimation and I was up to my waist in water as the side decks were swept by waves. This time they asked us to take down all sail which was an effort in those conditions but we managed it. Lying a hull now things actually calmed down a bit, the Earl Gray went ahead and downwind of us they then slowly crabbed towards our port beam. Realising what they were doing I went back and through the cockpit reattaching myself to the lifeline on the port side. About 15 meters away the guy at their stern launched the throw line which landed with a thump perfectly across our mainsail boom. With some desperation I grabbed the line and I don’t think all the imps in hell could have prized it from my grip at that point.  Going ahead of us the Earl Gray let out a stream of line to keep the pressure off me but it was still a struggle to keep hold. At this point the age of sail adage of one hand for the ship and one for yourself went right out of the window it was both hands on that line and trust to the lifeline to keep be onboard. Going forward I had to pass the line outside of all of our stays and sheets before leaning over the side to pass it through the port hawse hole at the bow. While doing that my head was plunged under the water several times but as I said those imps were not capable of breaking my grip.  With the line through the hawse hole, I tied it to the anchor windlass and actually had to stare at my hand to make it let go. Now as I bounced up and down I could pull in the rest of the light line until I came to a double looped bridle. With this inside I put one loop over our big cleat on the bow amidships. Now they had us. Taking the other looped end of the bridle I had to pass that back through the hawse hole around the front of the boat and into the starboard hawsehole. Of course, my lifeline was just too short to allow me to get to the end of the bowsprit. Luckily and with remarkable forethought Norma had attached a second lifeline to my harness which I had looped over the back of my neck. I attached this to the forestay mount and then released my other line. This allowed me to get far enough forward to pass the bridle under the bowsprit, leaning out over the front my head went under water again but no way was I letting go of that bridle. Repeating the Houdini trick with the lifelines I got back on deck and passed the bridle through the starboard hawse hole and onto the big cleat up front. Next job, back to the aft deck I got a mooring line out of the rope locker and went back up front to tie this through the loops of the bridle which was now safely secure on the cleat. This I then took back and winched in tight on a cockpit winch to double secure everything in case the cleat ripped out of the deck under what I expected to be heavy loads while under tow.

Back in the cockpit Tony had done a marvellous job keeping Spectra in place hove too while Norma was on the radio talking to the skipper of the Earl Gray. They informed us that they could not tow us to Halifax as that was into the wind and waves and would be too dangerous so we were heading for Shelburne. It was then that they reported the conditions as 5–6-metre swell and force 8 winds. At approximately 00:00 the tow began and the Manon said farewell. Things were now a lot calmer and we began to clean up a bit. We got the bilges pumped out and Tony wrapped up in what dry blankets we could find and with the obligatory hot water bottle clutched to his chest. Norma got some hot food into us all and we settled in for the long haul. Every 30 minutes a nice lady on the Earl Gray called us up to make sure things were ok. While Norma got things sorted below Tony and myself did 1-hour watches as that was about all you could stand in the bitingly cold wind. I can’t remember how much coffee we drank but it was nonstop all night and when off watch it had no effect on our ability to sleep.

The Earl Gray in a blaze of light as they towed us through the night.

In the early morning light Norma joined the shift pattern and that was us until 09:54 the next day when the Earl Gray slipped the tow line within sight of Shelburne Yacht Club Marina. The Earl Gray’s Rib arrived alongside with three very friendly Canadian chaps aboard and chatted to us about the experience. One of them was the guy that had looked me in the eye as we collided and he said that was a very scary moment. He should have seen it from my side. They also said that they had several newbies on board training all of whom had been universally sick in the conditions. They owed us up to the marina entrance while the Earl Gray anchored off and then came alongside to tie up to our aft starboard quarter. They then took us right into out berth where we were met by a surprised marina manager who had no idea that we were making such a dramatic entrance.

Putting up the Canadian flag and our yellow request for Q flag as we approach Canadian soil. Not the entrance we had planned for sure.

All calm in the early morning light as we approach Shelburne

Friendly faces for the last leg to the pontoon.

The Coast Guard vessel Earl Gray

Damaged Stanchion posts

Broken teak capping rail

We tied up and were soon met by a couple of customs officers who didn’t want to see our passports or check anything official but were just checking that we were all safe and sound. Welcome to Canada.

The three crew of the Earl Gray stayed alongside for 15 minutes or so and with nothing else to offer them we gave them 10 bags of frozen Tuna so that they could have a nice meal back on board. I shook their hands, thanked them again. As they motored away, I relaxed and must admit my bottom lip began to quiver. Norma threw her arms around me for a much-needed cuddle, we were safe.