Rescue At Sea -
February
4, 2002
"Not again," I
thought as Miranda rolled out of bed and stumbled into the
head to be sick for the third time. The wretching had begun around midnight
and dawn was now approaching. As the morning progressed her digestive
system
seemed to be quieting down, and she was able to sip water and keep it
down.
The
most dangerous thing on a sailboat is a calendar, for sailing and
schedules do not mix well. Miranda was feeling weak and tired, but both
of
us thought she was improving. Our main mistake was our decision to push
ahead with our planned timetable despite Miranda's weakened state. Our
plan
was to set off from Bequia on a 24 hour sail which would take us to Trinidad
where we were scheduled to rendezvous with Sid and Rebecca Shaw the next
day. We left Admiralty Bay, Bequia around 8am, Miranda was feeling well
enough to steer us out of the harbor and clear of the island while I stowed
the anchor and raised the sails.
But,
about an hour later, as I steered and she lay in the cabin trying to
get some rest, her condition worsened. She came up on deck complaining
of
slight numbness in her hands. This worried me but I figured it was a symptom
of the dehydration she must have been suffering and figured that with
some
rehydration she would recover. I decided some Gatorade was in order to
help
replenish her electrolytes, and I poured and handed her a glass. She took
a
few sips and in less than a minute was over the side wretching it up.
At
this point we were both quite concerned. Miranda's hands had completely
cramped up to the point where she couldn't hold a glass, and the numbness
was spreading to her legs and arms. I quickly made a straw out of an old
pen
and set it in a glass so she could try to slowly sip some water down.
It was
getting harder for her to drink as she was beginning to panic. Her breathing
was quick and shallow and her entire body was tensed up. It was when she
mentioned that her face and tongue were tingling and feeling numb that
I
decided it was time to call for immediate help.
I
balanced the sails so the boat would sail in a straight line, locked the
wheel, and jumped down below to get on the radio. At this point it was
almost 10:00am and we were closer to Canouan, the next island south, than
we
were to Bequia. I first tried the VHF radio, which is for local line of
sight communication. I was unable to raise anyone on 16, the usual hailing
channel so I turned to the amateur radio. When I became a Ham operator
less
than 4 months ago I was aware of the safety benefits, but I never imagined
I
would be using it to call for help so soon.
I
tuned my rig to 14.300 Mhz, the Mobile Maritime Net, and was glad to
hear
voices talking back and forth. I spoke into the mike, "Break, Break
This is
KG4 Oscar Alpha Quebec MM with a medical emergency." I got an immediate
response from Dave Franke, WA5EZW, and it was quite a relief to know
I
had
someone's attention. Dave was not able to copy me well, nor I him, so
he
alerted Ed Petzolt, K1LNC, in South Florida. Ed was able to hear me well
and
I read him loud and clear.
I
explained the situation and answered questions about the boat, our
location, and Miranda's condition. Ed proceeded to get the U.S. coast
guard
in San
Juan, Puerto Rico on frequency and was able to relay information from
us to
them. They tried to assess the situation from the relayed information
so
they could decide if an emergency evacuation was necessary. I had no way
to
judge the seriousness of Miranda's condition, but I knew she needed help
quickly.
My
first thought was to get Miranda ashore to Canouan. However, I didn't
know what kind of medical facilities they would have ashore on this small
island. My guess was that they would have to fly or ferry Miranda back
to
Bequia or St. Vincent in order to get her help. But, since it seemed to
me
that getting Miranda ashore was my first priority I headed toward Canouan.
As I sailed south I tried again to raise anyone local on the VHF, with
no
luck.
Ed
continued to monitor the situation from his station in Florida. He was
a
great comfort to us aboard the boat not only because he was doing an
excellent job of taking control of the situation, but he also worked hard
to
keep our spirits up. On more than one occasion he spoke directly to Miranda,
who was in listening distance of the radio, in order to keep her calm
and
reassured that help was coming her way.
Indeed
help was on the way, for the US Coast Guard had contacted the St.
Vincent Coast Guard, and the St. Vincent Coast Guard had launched a 23
foot
Boston Whaler, named Chattam Bay, to rendezvous with Baggywrinkle. I spoke
to the St. Vincent Coast Guard directly over the ham radio as they were
now
on frequency as well. They advised me to call Chattam Bay on VHF channel
16.
I tried calling them for about half an hour, but there was no response.
I
did however get a response from another sailboat in the area who said
they
had just seen Chattam Bay pass by. This was reassuring, for this not only
told me that Chattam Bay was on the way, but that my VHF radio was still
in
working order. As it turned out the VHF radio on Chattam Bay had ceased
working, but St. Vincent Coast guard was able to communicate with them
via
cell phone. We gave the Coast Guard our position and they relayed it on
to
Chattam Bay. About an hour later they were in sight and approaching fast.
I
quickly dropped all sail, started the engine, and pointed Baggywrinkle
into the wind. As Chattam Bay came along side I helped Miranda into the
cockpit and onto the deck. At this point it was hard for her to stand
on her
own, and she couldn't hold herself up because her hands were cramped up.
I
grabbed her under her arms and handed her across to the 3 Seamen (William
Theobalds, Vincent Gordon and Clinton Lewis) aboard the Coast Guard vessel.
I ran below and grabbed Miranda's passport and a few articles of clothing
and stuck them in a bag which I threw across as well. As they sped off
toward St. Vincent General Hospital I yelled to Miranda that I loved her
and
I would see her there.
It
was a lonely motor sail back to Bequia, and the hour and a half it took
seemed to last forever. When I motored into the harbor I was very glad
to
see the boat boys who only the day before I had considered a nuisance.
One
of the boys showed me to a mooring and gave me a lift ashore. I immediately
called the hospital and took it as a good sign when the nurse told me
to
hold a second and she would put Miranda on the line.
I
spoke briefly to Miranda and was reassured that she was getting the help
she needed. She had been taken straight to the emergency center and given
a
drip which began replenishing her electrolytes and returned feeling and
movement to her limbs within minutes. I told her I would be taking the
5:30
ferry over from Bequia and I would be in the hospital with her around
7pm.
And that is just what I did.
When
I arrived at the hospital she was still weak and tired, but she was
able to walk on her own, and she was in good spirits. The first blood
test
had come back and other than the low electrolytes it looked normal. But,
the
doctor wanted to keep her in the hospital overnight to do another test
in
the morning so she was moved to the Women's Ward. I had no place to stay
as
the boat was still back in Bequia, but the doctor kindly told the nurses
to
give me a cot in the Emergency Ward. It wasn't a peaceful sleep, but I
managed a few hours.
Miranda
slept well in her hospital bed, and despite sore legs from
anti-vomiting injections she was feeling much better the next morning.
She
was released from the hospital that afternoon, and was able to walk the
mile
or so to the ferry dock. We caught the 5:30 ferry back to Bequia and by
7pm
Miranda was resting quietly in her bunk back aboard Baggywrinkle.
It
had a been a traumatic and scary 24 hours, but it had taught us valuable
lessons not only about dehydration but also the dangers of trying to meet
a
timetable while sailing. We took a couple of days rest, put these events
behind us, and began planning our passage to Trinidad again - this time
without a specific arrival deadline!
Ben
Shaw
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