bnoft
Senior Member
- Joined
- Dec 2, 2007
- Messages
- 319
- Location
- USA
- Vessel Name
- Amazing Grace
- Vessel Make
- Ocean Alexander 52 Sedan
My son sent me the following story; we've all been in conditions that went TU in a hurry and hopefully learned from the experience. Sounds like this guy did; he was in a 38 footer. It's a little long but I didn't want to edit anything except ID.
Will,
We had a crazy situation this weekend. Check this out.*
*
I left Grand Isle,LA Friday morning for an easy day trolling for wahoo approx 50 miles offshore. Forecasts were reasonably good-10 knt winds with 50% chance of light rain, then a cold front moving through Friday night--not to worry though, we'd be back 6-8 hours before the front was forecast to come through.
The day was uneventful with just a few Amberjack to show for our efforts we turned north about 2:30 to run home. It was raining lightly, and had been for a few hours. Seas were light (1-3). Roughly 1/2 way home the rain got heavier and heavier, but oddly enough the winds were getting calmer and the seas were slick. As the rain continued to get heavier, with visibility down to less than 1/4 mile, and the radar totally whited out with rain we came across an oil rig to take cover behind and ride out the rain.
As we're idling on the lee side of the rig the winds suddenly increase to 15, then 25, the 35, and within 3 or 4 minutes we're being hammered by winds in excess of 60mph steady, with gusts that were deafening. I'm doing my best to keep the boat behind the rig, as it knocks the wave height almost in half. No more than 5 minutes later, the seas have built to an extremely angry 6-8' BEHIND the rig and I'm really struggling to keep the*(boat name)*tucked in.
In literally the blink of an eye, a huge gust(maybe 70+) picks up the bow of the boat and throws me from behind the rig out into open water----broadside! Before I can move we are crushed with a 10' wall of breaking water on the starboard side rolling the boat virtually 90 degrees. I can see nothing...
At this point, I'm commited to the fact that the boat is rolling over and my only thought are to grab the ditch bag and decide which side of the boat I heading out of. Miraculously, the boat rights itself, and I pull myself and (name withheld) off the floor in time for the next wave---again right over the starboard side. This one didn't roll us, but broke into the boat, which is now calf deep in water, broadside to yet another 10' beaking wave.
I gather my wits, give a huge WTF to Artie and hit the throttles. Somehow, both engines sprung to life and popped us on plan instantly, shedding the majority of the water. For this 30 seconds or so I'm running beam seas in 8-10s with the wind continuing to build, we're in full panick mode. There's another rig(a really big rig) 1/4 mile away in the direction we're turned, but I know I can't sustain 1/4 mile in that beam sea, so I point the bow into the wind and spear the very first wave---again we're calf deep in water. Throttle up and brace myself for the next one, they're coming every few seconds.
I'm yelling at Artie to call the CG with our position, and let them know we are in dire straights. 3, 4 , 5 calls go unanswered. Then we try a radio check---no answer. We fight 60mph winds head on, taking every third wave over the bow. the winds would blow us nearly vertical off the top of each wave, I just know the right wave and wind gust is coming and we're going over.
As a last resort,*(name withheld)*digs out the hand held VHF in the ditchbag and hails the coast gaurd. After 4 or five tries I hear the best thing I think I've ever heard--CG New Orleans. We relay our position and the nature of our situation, let them know that we are currently making 10 mph, but didn't think we could sustain any increase in the conditions, which for the last 15 minutes have only gotten worse. At no point in this ordeal could I see more than 100' in front of me---total white out. CG says to maintain radio contact, which we were able to do for approx 2 min. then we lost them.
5-10 minutes later, we hear them hailing us on the handheld and again realy our position. They monitor us every 3-4 minutes for the next 1/2 hour---conditions still the same. An all out battle to keep the boat going into the waves, slamming down the backs of 12 footers only to have the next one break over the bow, bilge pumps working overtime. Every wave I'd throttle up and by some miracle the engines were there every time. After a while, with no improvement in our situation, the CG asks if they can realease us as safe, b/c there is a capsized vessel in our area with men in the water. I surely didn't feel safe, but I wasn't in the water and realized they needed the radio channel for the rescue operation. After over an hour, the rain stopped and the winds "died" to a mere 30-35knts and left us with a seemingly more managable 6-8' sea state. At this point we tuck tail, and beat our way back at 15-20 mph for the remaining 15 miles.
We hit the pass--call the CG as they instructed to let them know we made it in. My wife and kids were standing at the dock waiting on us, knowing we came through a terrible storm, but the don't know and will never know how close we were to not returning. We were inches from rolling the boat into 55 degree water and 50 degree air temps. I've never been so tired in my life.
I'm not telling this story for sympathy or being dramatic, but to tell you what we did right and what we did wrong...
Lesson 1. there's no way to prepare for the speed in which bad stuff happens. Despite the fact that the ditch bag and liferaft was on the leaning post, I could not have grabbed it when we rolling. There's no way.
Lesson 2. never go with out an epirb---I mailed mine out last week to get the battery replaced(it expires this month) and haven't received it back yet. I was dead without it. The only time I've left the dock without it in the last 8 years--think about that for a second!
Lesson 3. MUTIPLE VHFs!!
Lesson 4. Boats can't be too big So a I am officially in the market for one of your big Sport fish pronto. *
I'd like to say we should have called the CG earlier, but it literally went from dead calm to nearly upside down in 5 minutes or less.
I should've had my kill switch on--I never leave it off, but for whatever reason I didn't put it on this time.
respect the weather--this was the most innocent looking storm I've come across.
Know that you can't survive if you're in the water in the winter--plan accordingly.
*
Bill Noftsinger
Amazing Grace
Will,
We had a crazy situation this weekend. Check this out.*
*
I left Grand Isle,LA Friday morning for an easy day trolling for wahoo approx 50 miles offshore. Forecasts were reasonably good-10 knt winds with 50% chance of light rain, then a cold front moving through Friday night--not to worry though, we'd be back 6-8 hours before the front was forecast to come through.
The day was uneventful with just a few Amberjack to show for our efforts we turned north about 2:30 to run home. It was raining lightly, and had been for a few hours. Seas were light (1-3). Roughly 1/2 way home the rain got heavier and heavier, but oddly enough the winds were getting calmer and the seas were slick. As the rain continued to get heavier, with visibility down to less than 1/4 mile, and the radar totally whited out with rain we came across an oil rig to take cover behind and ride out the rain.
As we're idling on the lee side of the rig the winds suddenly increase to 15, then 25, the 35, and within 3 or 4 minutes we're being hammered by winds in excess of 60mph steady, with gusts that were deafening. I'm doing my best to keep the boat behind the rig, as it knocks the wave height almost in half. No more than 5 minutes later, the seas have built to an extremely angry 6-8' BEHIND the rig and I'm really struggling to keep the*(boat name)*tucked in.
In literally the blink of an eye, a huge gust(maybe 70+) picks up the bow of the boat and throws me from behind the rig out into open water----broadside! Before I can move we are crushed with a 10' wall of breaking water on the starboard side rolling the boat virtually 90 degrees. I can see nothing...
At this point, I'm commited to the fact that the boat is rolling over and my only thought are to grab the ditch bag and decide which side of the boat I heading out of. Miraculously, the boat rights itself, and I pull myself and (name withheld) off the floor in time for the next wave---again right over the starboard side. This one didn't roll us, but broke into the boat, which is now calf deep in water, broadside to yet another 10' beaking wave.
I gather my wits, give a huge WTF to Artie and hit the throttles. Somehow, both engines sprung to life and popped us on plan instantly, shedding the majority of the water. For this 30 seconds or so I'm running beam seas in 8-10s with the wind continuing to build, we're in full panick mode. There's another rig(a really big rig) 1/4 mile away in the direction we're turned, but I know I can't sustain 1/4 mile in that beam sea, so I point the bow into the wind and spear the very first wave---again we're calf deep in water. Throttle up and brace myself for the next one, they're coming every few seconds.
I'm yelling at Artie to call the CG with our position, and let them know we are in dire straights. 3, 4 , 5 calls go unanswered. Then we try a radio check---no answer. We fight 60mph winds head on, taking every third wave over the bow. the winds would blow us nearly vertical off the top of each wave, I just know the right wave and wind gust is coming and we're going over.
As a last resort,*(name withheld)*digs out the hand held VHF in the ditchbag and hails the coast gaurd. After 4 or five tries I hear the best thing I think I've ever heard--CG New Orleans. We relay our position and the nature of our situation, let them know that we are currently making 10 mph, but didn't think we could sustain any increase in the conditions, which for the last 15 minutes have only gotten worse. At no point in this ordeal could I see more than 100' in front of me---total white out. CG says to maintain radio contact, which we were able to do for approx 2 min. then we lost them.
5-10 minutes later, we hear them hailing us on the handheld and again realy our position. They monitor us every 3-4 minutes for the next 1/2 hour---conditions still the same. An all out battle to keep the boat going into the waves, slamming down the backs of 12 footers only to have the next one break over the bow, bilge pumps working overtime. Every wave I'd throttle up and by some miracle the engines were there every time. After a while, with no improvement in our situation, the CG asks if they can realease us as safe, b/c there is a capsized vessel in our area with men in the water. I surely didn't feel safe, but I wasn't in the water and realized they needed the radio channel for the rescue operation. After over an hour, the rain stopped and the winds "died" to a mere 30-35knts and left us with a seemingly more managable 6-8' sea state. At this point we tuck tail, and beat our way back at 15-20 mph for the remaining 15 miles.
We hit the pass--call the CG as they instructed to let them know we made it in. My wife and kids were standing at the dock waiting on us, knowing we came through a terrible storm, but the don't know and will never know how close we were to not returning. We were inches from rolling the boat into 55 degree water and 50 degree air temps. I've never been so tired in my life.
I'm not telling this story for sympathy or being dramatic, but to tell you what we did right and what we did wrong...
Lesson 1. there's no way to prepare for the speed in which bad stuff happens. Despite the fact that the ditch bag and liferaft was on the leaning post, I could not have grabbed it when we rolling. There's no way.
Lesson 2. never go with out an epirb---I mailed mine out last week to get the battery replaced(it expires this month) and haven't received it back yet. I was dead without it. The only time I've left the dock without it in the last 8 years--think about that for a second!
Lesson 3. MUTIPLE VHFs!!
Lesson 4. Boats can't be too big So a I am officially in the market for one of your big Sport fish pronto. *
I'd like to say we should have called the CG earlier, but it literally went from dead calm to nearly upside down in 5 minutes or less.
I should've had my kill switch on--I never leave it off, but for whatever reason I didn't put it on this time.
respect the weather--this was the most innocent looking storm I've come across.
Know that you can't survive if you're in the water in the winter--plan accordingly.
*
Bill Noftsinger
Amazing Grace
