 It
cost the United States government $64,647.20 to save
Joe Harris’ life when the Coast Guard pulled him
from the Atlantic Ocean 23 miles south of Cape Lookout,
NC, on Jan. 25. But for a tragic mistake on the part
of Harris’ friend and shipmate,
Zach Schafer, the Coast Guard could have saved two for
the price of one.
When the 53-foot Hatteras sportfisherman the men were
delivering up the Carolina coast began taking on water
in seven- to nine-foot seas, Harris and Schafer had
only minutes to abandon ship. In that precious time
they tried unsuccessfully to launch the boat’s
inflatable life raft. According to a Coast Guard report
of the incident, the two men grabbed life jackets,
a strobe light and EPIRB, and jumped into the sea as
Physical Therapy flooded and capsized in the pre-dawn
hours.
The EPIRB signal alerted the Coast Guard at 4:40 a.m.
and less than an hour later, a C-130 search plane took
off from Elizabeth City, NC. The plane reached the
position by 6:45 a.m. and flew over the men, still
struggling to stay afloat in the 47-degree water and
building seas. Harris later reported that Schafer,
most likely severely hypothermic and disoriented, ditched
his life jacket to swim after the plane that he feared
had missed them.
But the aircraft crew had seen their strobe light
and radioed the location to a 47-foot motor lifeboat
from Coast Guard Group Ft. Macon already searching
the area. The boat reached the site just before 7 a.m.
but by then Schafer had disappeared. Harris had become
so weak that he could not reach a rescue line that
landed in the water two feet away from him. With seas
by then running 10 feet or more, the Coast Guard crew
brought the boat close enough to grab Harris and haul
him aboard.
The 47-footer then searched for Schafer in worsening
conditions until abandoning the effort about 10 a.m.
A cutter and helicopter continued the search but with
seas building even higher and near gale force winds
out of the northeast, they gave up about 3 p.m.
Zach Schafer was a licensed captain with five years
of commercial towing experience, both offshore and
along the Atlantic Intracoastal Waterway. The irony
of this sad story is that it appears Schafer opted
for the open ocean route for the delivery to Beaufort,
NC, from Charleston, SC, simply to save time.
At the time of the sinking, the Coast Guard had had
a portion of the ICW closed to some commercial traffic
due to shoaling since Dec. 8 of last year, notes Bos
Smith, a Charleston tugboat operator and chairman of
the Atlantic Intracoastal Waterway Association.
The controlling depth at Lockwoods Folly, roughly
midway between Charleston and Beaufort, had been reduced
to three feet. Although this is a busy section of the
waterway, linking it to the Port of Wilmington, NC,
the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers has been unable to
find the money for emergency dredging, approximately
$800,000.
If the waterway isn’t dredged and maintained
at navigable depths, more and more recreational vessels
will be tempted, or even forced, to take their chances
offshore, Smith says.
At press time, nearly three months after closing Lockwoods
Folly, nothing has changed — except that Zach
Schafer will never run a tugboat along the Atlantic
seaboard again.
Worst Fears
“The issue I have with this situation is that Zach
was a professional captain, an experienced ocean operator,
and he drowned,” says Smith. “What will happen
to less experienced recreational boaters who try to bypass
the waterway because of the condition it’s in and
the weather turns ugly out there?
“Take a man and wife in their 60s with a single
screw trawler,” he goes on. “They don’t
want to put up with delays on the waterway, they just
want to get to Florida. They check the forecast; four-
to five-foot seas at worst.
“They say, ‘Our boat can handle that,’ so
they head offshore, the weather turns bad, like it
did on Zach, and all of a sudden, the seas are running
six to eight feet and they’re in trouble,” he
continues. “What’s the cost of bringing
them back — or worse, losing them?”
As it turns out, that’s pretty much the scenario
Schafer and Harris faced aboard Physical Therapy, a
decent forecast overrun by a gale that arrived off
the Carolina capes well ahead of schedule. And what
makes the loss even tougher for Smith is that Schafer
had worked for his firm, Stevens Towing Co., for five
years. He’d started as a deckhand, moved up to
mate and finally became a licensed captain, towing
barges along the south Atlantic seaboard, both on the
waterway and offshore.
Smith called Schafer a talented seaman who understood
boats. Harris, the survivor, had worked with Schafer
as a deckhand aboard Stevens Towing vessels for two
years and he agrees.
“Zach could do things with a boat most people
could only dream about doing,” he told reporters
from his hospital bed, recovering from surgery on the
foot he broke when the boat rolled. “It was a
natural for him.”
It would have been just as natural for Schafer to
take the boat back inside to the ICW if necessary,
Harris told BoatUS Magazine.
“That was the idea,” he said. “If
the weather turned bad, we could jump in at Winyah
Bay (SC) or the Cape Fear River.”
But the weather held until Physical Therapy had cleared
Frying Pan Shoal off the tip of Cape Fear and was well
into the final leg of the 200-mile trip to the inlet
at Moorehead City, NC, leading to Beaufort, their destination.
About the sinking, still under Coast Guard investigation
at press time, Harris would only say, “Something
in (the boat’s) mechanics went bad.” He
agrees, however, that the steady deterioration of the
waterway is just asking for more — and possibly
worse — incidents involving recreational boaters.
“Say they’re on a blow boat (sailboat)
with a seven- or 8-foot draft,” he explains. “On
the personal charts we keep on the tugs, we’ve
penciled in maybe hundreds of shoals but the pretty-boy
yachts won’t see those places on the charts that
they buy.
“So the snowbirds hear talk on the VHF about
problems on the waterway and they just want to get
from the cold to the warm,” he goes on. “So
they decide to go outside in the ocean — and
pretty soon they’re floating in the water, like
we were.”
By Ryck Lydecker
What You Can Do
Navigation is severely restricted on the Atlantic
Intracoastal Waterway at Lockwoods Folly, NC. Where
there should be a 12-foot channel, at low tide
the depth is a mere three feet and commercial vessels
drawing more than that can only pass through at
high tide and only with Coast Guard permission.
On other sections of the waterway, channel depth
is as little as five or six feet and the Corps
of Engineers is faced with steadily deteriorating
conditions but no money for dredging. However,
boating organizations as well as regular cruisers
are raising the alarm.
“Can you imagine the chaos this will cause
with the annual snowbird migration,” says
Claiborne Young, author of Cruising Guide to
Coastal North Carolina and other ICW books.
After the Bush Administration announced its
budget for the Corps in February, Young, BoatU.S
and the AIWA launched electronic mail campaigns
to the cruising community far and wide as well
as to marinas, yacht clubs, marine businesses,
small ports and local governments along the waterway.
Cruising boaters from as far away as the West
Coast, and even Australia, have rallied to support
the ICW.
“Imagine all northbound boats — large
or small, sail or power — being forced
to go outside from Charleston to Cape Fear, no
matter what the weather, to continue their migration,” Young
wrote in his electronic Salty Southeast Nautical
Newsletter. “We can’t let that happen.”
For more information on the ICW crisis and how
you can help, no matter where you use your boat,
go to.
|
©BoatUS Magazine, May 2004 |