January 17, 2006

Lost Some Where Beyond the Sea

“ ROSIO…. ROSIO” Donde esta Eric? Se fe su velero de la bahia con el viento!

“Rosio, where is Eric? His sailboat has left the harbor with the wind”.

 Nothing between here just one big mighty powerful ocean of water.

Our next door neighbor shouted through the window. He was the first to tell us Chickadee’s anchor had dragged in the 50-60 knot piping papagayo and went out to sea alone. Julio got a call on his cell phone and the message was relayed to me. It was 08:30 am. There is 12,000 miles of open ocean between Nicaragua and the next point of land on the other side of the world; the Marshall Islands. Nothing between here and there just one big mighty powerful ocean of water. Suddenly I feel sea sick like never before.

 I jumped to my feet and ran to the beach faster than a speeding bullet.

Chickadee is gone. She will stay afloat. All the hatches are closed, but the rig may come down? A few days ago I removed the main and jib sheets and stowed them below deck to prevent theft of the valuable line. I replaced them with cheap flimsy polypropylene. The poly won’t last a month. The boom will then thrash itself to bits knocking out the standing rigging. The wind will carry the boat westward in the trades with all my personal belongings, tools, books, $20,000 worth of boating equipment, electronics my guitar, music, photos, files, CD’s, DVDS, camera’s, charts, clothes…gone, right down to my last pair of shoes, all gone! All the work, all the time and energy, dedication and dreams...floating away over the horizon. Every thing but memories remain.

 Will I ever know her final fate?

The crew on SV Lanikai said their wind anemometer registered 64 knots in the peak of the papagayo gale.

Chickadee will drift westward then pick up a southwest setting current in the trade winds. In theory she could stay afloat for a year or longer. Maybe two years? Will she be spotted by a ship or stay afloat long enough to land on some foreign shore? Will I ever know her final fate?

I didn’t let out enough chain when I dropped anchor a few days ago. “A superior sailor is best defined as one who uses superior judgment to keep out of situations requiring the use of his superior skills”. It seems like my life is flashing before me. I meant to put out more chain but got wrapped up with family duties and other shore side worries. I should have checked on the boat soon as the wind started going wild last night at 03:00 in the morning.

Good judgment comes from experience, and a lot of that comes from bad judgment. Will my last word spoken be “WHY”?

Eric “Chickadee” B
San Juan Del Sur

Found!

As I reached the shore side of the bay and could not see Chickadee, where I had last left her, I started coughing up butterflies. The sea was foaming white from the gale force offshore winds. Katabatic power lifting off roof tops and taking down sign posts. The first wicked “papagayo” wind of the season. Relentless!

A group of locals were pointing to seaward and hollering at me. There in the distance, “look”. I could see the red glow of Chickadee’s hull. She was outside the bay near the horizon, heeling hard over to starboard pinned down by the gale. Nicaraguan navy personal were at the bow making a line fast to a gunboat which was preparing to take her in tow.

Once again, I took off like a bat on fire towards the shipyard to find a panga to take me out to Chickadee. As luck would have it, an Australian friend named Cameron happened to be in his panga by the break water and was able to taxi me outside the harbor through the treacherous wind and waves. The navy gun boat was able to bring Chickadee’s bow into the wind. Cameron maneuvered his panga with surgical precision to keep from being bashed to bits from the up and down motion of an 8 ton steel hulled sailboat. I clambered aboard Chickadee, wind and spray blowing horizontal across the deck. The navy personnel were hauling up the anchor and flaking it out deck in a confused pile. I had little or no time to go below the cabin to organize the chain in the locker. Instead, I flashed up Bessy; my only auxiliary, a 9.9 hp Suzuki outboard, to help with the towing effort. We were one mile off the coast and the seas had already built to 5 feet chop. A few miles farther out, the seas would be over 20 feet and breaking. The motor sprang to life on the second pull but was powerless against the explosive force of the wind and waves on the nose. The gunboat’s big twin 200 hp motors made little effort of the tow back into the bay.

 The wind continued to blow madly.

After resetting the anchor, I thanked the navy crew profoundly and would stop by their base after I finish cleaning up Chickadee. They cast off and motored back to the dock. The wind continued to blow madly. I deployed all 160 feet of chain and to put nerves at ease, launched a second 30 lb Delta plow anchor with chain and rode in tandem with the 22 lb Bruce. Chickadee won’t be sailing off alone again.

I stopped by the port captain’s office on the way back to the house to say another thank you to the crew and to compensate their kindred rescue of my boat. They wouldn’t take a penny. I offered to at least pay for the fuel their boat used but again, they would not accept a cent. They said it was their pleasure and they were pleased to have been able to help get the boat back in the bay. True “brothers of the sea”, I shall be forever grateful.

 “ The sea is dangerous and its storms terrible..."

Eric “Chickadee” B
San Juan Del Sur