PART IV - Personal accounts of near misses, collisions & other mishaps.
This section is devoted to personal experience and observations that I have made for your enlightenment on what not to do while operating your vessel.
1. What a collision with a small boat feels like to a ship. I was a cadet (officer in training) many years ago in the late 80's, I caught a VLCC (Very Large Crude Tanker) on a cold January day in Portland, Oregon. We were traveling down the Columbia River. This boater in a 19' fishing boat was happily fishing anchored in the center of the river.
Meanwhile, I was onboard the ship that was nearly a thousand feet long and a hundred seventy feet wide. We sounded the danger signal at least three times, and it wasn't until we were about 500 feet away did he try to feverishly hand start his engine. He couldn't start his engine, then he tried to pull up his anchor and couldn't, he finally wound up jumping into the frigid waters without a life vest cursing up a storm while his boat bounced along (still anchored) our hull as we passed him.
On board the ship we physically felt absolutely nothing. We did look over the side to make sure that he wasn't chewed up by the ship's screw (the biggest danger in this type of incident). Immediately after we passed him, we saw other fishing boats (who were along the shore line) rescue him. His boat was still floating and appeared in tact, minus its anchor line.
Let's examine what the boater did wrong.
2. Slicing a large tree in two.
In the mid-90's, I was second mate aboard a ship in the South Pacific. While I was plotting the 4 PM position on the chart the lookout reported a large tree was "dead ahead." I then asked him how far the was, as I couldn't see it (it already passed below the sight distance of the bow) and then I heard a small "thunk" while every so barely perceptible felt a very small hesitation in the ship's travel in otherwise silky smooth seas. On this ship the bridge is located well forward on the ship, otherwise I probably would neither have heard or felt the collision with the tree.
I then raced to the bridge wing to see what we hit and to examine the bow for damage. I saw this incredibly large tree, with a trunk diameter of 4 to 5 feet. I made sure that the tree didn't hit the screw (the biggest danger in this situation). I then looked at the bow, and I didn't even notice any paint missing let alone any damage at all.
We barely felt 4-5 feet of solid wood (it did NOT appear to be rotten) being split as though it were nothing. Most yachts hulls are a fraction of that thickness. At most an inch and a half thick. This tree I know would do serious damage to a yacht and wouldn't show any damage to itself. Unless the ship is maintaining a proper lookout, it will never know that it ran over a yacht, unless there is an eye witness or other evidence like a sail hanging off an anchor.
This also illustrates that a mostly submerged object in calm weather is very difficult to see in excellent weather, just imagine what it is like in adverse weather conditions.
3. Sailing with no lights on a moonless and cloudy night.
In 1991 I was third mate aboard a handy size tanker navigating along the Santa Barbara Shipping Channel on a moonless and overcast night. There was a brisk wind and as a result many white caps in the area. There were a few other vessels in the area that I was tracking both visually and by radar.
All of a sudden I see a flashlight about 50 feet beneath my bow illuminating a sail. Immediately thereafter, the irate captain (if you want to call him that) of the sailboat started yelling at me on the VHF on channel 16 for almost colliding with him.
I politely informed him that:
He then persistent in telling me that he was a sailboat and had the right of way, and couldn't understand why I couldn't see him.
I then asked him if he had a radar reflector, and why his lights weren't on. He then indicated that he didn't have a reflector because they were too expensive, and he didn't have his lights on because "it would drain my batteries".
I told him that is exactly why I couldn't see him either visually or on radar.
He then threatened to report to the coast guard. I then quoted him Rule 10, and rule 12 verbatim. At that time the USCG was listening in on all the radio chatter and interjected on my behalf and backed me up, and proceeded to lecture him on the rules, and had him change channels, at which time I was relieved near midnight and do not know the outcome of that lecture as I was very tired from working all day and night.
If you are unsure of whether a vessel sees you, call him on your VHF citing his position and direction of travel in plenty of time before a dangerous situation develops.
In retrospect, please refer to Part I of this series on lighting in order to avoid all of the problems that this sailboat thought he had encountered.
4. Colliding with a docked ship
I've seen this happen many times. A guy is trolling, drinking his beer and is oblivious as to where he is going, and motors his boat right into the side of a docked ship knocking himself and those below decks down.
Moral of the story is to man helm at all times and maintain a proper lookout.
5. Broken engine with no communications
The next story I am about to tell you I would nominate for the Darwin Awards.
This guy went out on his center consol fishing boat in south Florida for a day of solo fishing. His radio crapped out on him, so he left it at the repair shop a week before and went out anyways. He also was between jobs, so in order to save money he canceled his insurance on the boat and probably neglected some basic maintenance.
He was 40 miles off shore, and his fuel line broke to his engine and he got water in the fuel line after doing a make shift repair.
He tried to start his engine until his battery was dead. He did have a Loran-C unit on board and knew his position. After he determined he was in distress, he shot off all of his flares with nobody in sight.
Fortunately he had a case of beer with him, so he drank it and finished it on the second day.
On the 3rd and 4th nights he had his flashlight, and tried to signal other boats fishing in the area, and they all went around him
On the 5th day a foreign flag coaster came by and checked him out, and then went on their way, as he wasn't displaying any of the distress signals.
On the 6th day we came along, and picked him up when he was waving his life jacket on a fishing pole. He was told by the 2nd officer to take all of his personal belongings with him as he climbed up on our ship. He left his clothing and wallet on his boat as he thought he was just going to get a meal and get back on his boat and wait for rescue (at the time he was now 120 miles off shore).
He survived on eating brine from seaweed patches, and drinking rain water that accumulated in the boat, as well as drinking a little bit of salt water.
We took his boat in tow with 3/4" manila line, a freak wave during a passing squall caused his boat to dive under the water and break the tow line at 11 PM loosing his wallet and clothing that he left on the boat.
In the mean time, his truck and his trailer were parked at the boat ramp all this time. The coast guard was never notified that he was missing by any of his friends who saw his truck there for nearly a week.
The moral of the story is as follows:
6. Rowing a boat in the Gulf Stream
Four Bahamians were in their little row boat fishing off the coast of Grand Bahama Island when a rain squall blew them out to sea in the morning.
In the afternoon, the A/B on duty spotted a small row boat out in the middle of nowhere. We were in the center of the Gulf Stream and the stream was drifting about 2.5 to 3 knots in a northerly direction.
We were fortunate enough to locate them before they drifted further and farther out to sea. We picked them up after determining that they were not Cuban or Haitian refugees (at the USCG's direction), and delivered them to Port Canaveral Coast Guard, which took full credit for the rescue, even though the news footage showed they were disembarking from our ship (after we had located and picked them up) at the sea buoy on to the cutter.
Moral of the story:
7. High and dry on a Low Tide
This is yet another amazing, amusing, yet true story:
In the early 90's I was in the Port of Los Angeles loading a tanker. I observed a tug boat tie up on a nearby pier (this was at high tide).
I went below decks to get some rest before my next watch, some six hours later. I came back out on deck, and observed that the tide had gone down about 7 feet, and tug boat was now on its side with about a 60 degree list and could clearly see the shelf that it was sitting on.
Apparently the tug docked at extreme spring high tide and barely made it with less than a foot under its keel. When the tide ran out, it grounded itself, and flipped over on its side.
They waited until the next high tide to refloat it. Needless to say, there were a lot of pissed off people over by the tug, one of whom was probably the owner.
The moral of the story:
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© 1997-2003 Jan K. Genemans |