NO…Blow Me Away has not sunk.
This is a story Lyla wants me to put in text. I know many friends have
heard this story before, but some might find it of interest.
Many Years Ago I had a dream to travel more, so I bought a backpack and
along with my girlfriend, Trenna, headed south to Mexico and further
south with the hope of a year or two of laying on the beach swimming and
emerging ourselves into the locale culture. When we reached Belize, we
had found a little touch of heaven. The year was 1981 and Belize had
just received their independence from Britain, so locales were hopeful
in their future. The island towns where small and simple in comparison
to today. We spent about two months in Belize and figured it was time to
move south to Honduras, but that was not possible. The rebels had just
pulled 2 nuns off a bus and shot them in the ditch so Americans where
discouraged from traveling in Honduras. The cost of flying to Costa Rica
would of put some hurt on our budget. While we were trying to figure out
what to do next, a 57 ft Chris craft powerboat arrived at the dock.
While talking to the Captain, we discovered the boat was headed to
Columbia and they would be happy to take us with them, so we signed on
as crew. The boat was planning to stop at a couple of islands, so we had
options to get off if we didn’t like it. The Captain’s name was George
and he had been an officer in the Columbian navy and spoke broken
English. The crew were two, Johnny, a 19 year old kid who was the
general deckhand and Oriano, a 30 year old diesel mechanic who spent all
his time in the engine room working the two large engines prior to
leaving port.
We dropped the lines off the dock on April 22, 1981 at 3.30 pm on a
clear day. We motored out of the cut into 4 to 6 ft seas. Shortly after
dark, we ran into a squall with winds building to the point where we
were looking up to the crest while standing on the top deck about 8ft
above the water. To say the least, everybody started to get seasick,
except the captain. We had all done a one hour go at the wheel to get
used to how the boat handles, since all of us would be hand steering
during our shifts. The boat didn’t have an autopilot. At about 8pm while
I was at the wheel, Oriano went down to the aft cabin to get some
seasickness pills. He started screaming in Spanish and even though I
understand very little Spanish, I had this gut feeling that we were
sinking. George and Johnny ran down to inspect the problem and pulled
the engine covers off . They saw that water was gushing in on the
starboard side. We were sinking fast from a split in the seam in the
wood planks which made up the hull. Captain George took over the wheel
and I went down to help with the big hand pump and told Trenna to get my
small backpack and gather our stuff and fill it with what ever water or
juice she could find to get ready to abandon ship.
George had turned the boat around and had gunned the engines which made
it scary working around the roaring engines. It was quite obvious that
the water was coming in faster than we could pump it out. Looking out
the window, I could see that the water was about to cover the deck. It
was time to prepare to abandon ship. We didn’t want to get caught in the
engine room when the boat sunk. Now standing on the deck, I had time to
reflect on what was happening and what lay ahead. We were about 20 miles
offshore on a moonless night and I was getting ready to step off the
deck of the first boat I had ever been on in the ocean. When I stepped
off that boat, I new we had a slim to no chance of surviving. Even if
the current was flowing in, our chance of hitting one of the small
islands, which are behind the second longest barrier reef in the world
was bleak. The jagged coral that reaches the surface would cut us to
pieces if we ever got that close and then the sharks that cruised the
reef would finish us off before we could make it to any land for
protection.
The captain wanted to tie us all together so we would stay
in a group. I wanted no part of that and told Trenna as she stepped off
the boat, to swim away quickly from the boat so as to not get caught in
the undertow. I was given a large, old life jacket and Trenna a child
size one. Johnny and Oriano had jackets like mine, but Captain George
had two life jackets on plus he had tied two white boat fenders on
himself as well. He wouldn’t give Trenna the other large lifejacket. He
tied Johnny and Oriano to him with a long line. Oriano was on the very
end. They stepped off the boat and started swimming towards us. I
rolled on my back to watch the boat go down as the aft went under, the
bow rose up into the sky. It only took seconds for the boat to sink.
Then the night was filled with screams of panic which I hope never to
hear the likes of again. As I looked toward where the screams were from,
I could see Oriano swimming toward us in a panic. Johnny was not in
sight and Captain George was struggling as he was being pulled under.
They had left the rope on the boat and it had snagged on something as
the boat went down. Oriano swam right between us scared to death. After
what seemed like a long time, George and Johnny popped back up, due to
all the flotation that Captain George had on. We could hear them
screaming, but by this time we were out of sight, so we worked for 20
minutes to get back together.
Once we were back together, we came across some debris floating in the
water which were parts of the boat. It was an engine cover board about
4ft X 2Ft. So, we hung on to it to give us some minor protection. We
could just see a glow of lights far off in the distance. We surmised it
was San Pedro and Cay Caulker and started swimming in that direction. We
did not know if we were going in with the tide or out until about 1AM,
when we spotted our first light bulb. That gave us a sense of hope and
relief knowing we were going in with the tide. Captain George sent
Johnny and Oriano, who were scared as the rest of us, to swim ahead
towards the light. They reluctantly did, but could only make it as far
as 50 yards in front of us. By this time, our body temperatures had
dropped significantly and it took everything we had to stay swimming
just to keep warm. Our efforts to swim ashore were minimal since we were
barefoot and you are at the mercy of the sea.
It was dark, cold, chilling to the bone and my thoughts reflected back
to my past. And at times, Trenna would ask me why I was laughing. I
replied that I was just thinking of something funny that happened when I
was a kid. Even though I was having the worst day of my life, these
memories sustained me and kept me positive. The hours passed by slowly,
and I was glad to have this opportunity to reflect back on my past
rather than to die quickly.
As the sun begin to rise, I rolled on to my back and looked east and
said to myself as I had many mornings awaking in my hammock on the
beach, there’s nothing like seeing the sun rise over the ocean. The sun
gave us warmth and hope, We still couldn’t see land, but knew it was
there in the distance. At around 630am, the ocean filled with small fish
about 2 inches long. There were so many fish that you could not see your
hands in front of you. These little fish starting eating our skin that
had pruned up and turned soft. As annoying as this was, little did we
know it was going to get worse. Following these little fish, were
schools of jacks, which are 12-14 inches long. It was feeding time,
breakfast was served. Following the jacks, were the sharks. Yes, makos.
All I could see was a blur of shadows passing by. This sent chills and
terror. They would rub up against us. Their skin is like ladies
pantyhose. Or sandpaper. Captain George went into a panic. Trenna was
between us and he tried moving her closer to the sharks to save himself. Asshole. Trenna crouched in a ball behind the board we were clinging
onto, and I pulled out my Swiss army knife. There were times where I had to
kick a shark away. I slapped the water in efforts to scare them away and
ending up hitting one as it went by. I knew that sharks don’t normally
eat man, and that if we could keep them away from us, eventually they
would follow their normal food source. I watched them, paying close
attention to see if they would go into a feeding frenzy, and if they did
I was prepared to cut the Captain to save ourselves. I saw him as
disposable, since his cowardly behaviour and screams throughout the
night had not helped the situation. Trenna, unfortunately, was on her
period. Not good timing. The sharks slowly started to follow the other
fish and within 30 minutes they were gone. Hopefully.
Even though the fear of sharks never left us, our next biggest fear was
the barrier reef and how to get passed it without cutting ourselves
open. Then of course, the sharks would return for sure. From all my days
of snorkeling earlier, I knew the coral reached to the top and there was
very few places where you could cross from the blue water into the
shallow banks. I had seen seas breaking onto the reef, 4-5 ft. and this
wasn’t the time to learn surfing.
At 9-10 am , we had reached the reef and Cay Caulker lay ahead of us
about a ¼ mi away. How we made it over the reef, I don’t know. We must
of come thru a cut, but there was never a time I could stand up. But to
our dismay, the tide had changed and now we were being pulled back out
to sea and drifting north missing the island. I knew that we had to swim
for it. I told Trenna to stay with George and that I was going to try to
make it in. Not having flippers is a hindrance, and Trenna was not
liking the idea of staying behind with George. So we both started
swimming. This was the longest swim of my life. It took us over 2
hours of constantly swimming to make head way about ¾ of the way to the
island. If we stopped for one second, we lost the entire distance that
we had made in the last 10 minutes. There were times where I had to grab Trenna by the shirt to keep us from going backwards. We finally made it
to a coral head where a piece of debris had lodged and we used it to
crawl up on it. The warmth that this provided was a blessing. I didn’t
know someone could be so cold.
Once we had situated ourselves on this little piece of heaven, I was
able to take my lifejacket off and rest on that. We sat like this
for maybe a half hour, when we spotted a small fishing boat running
along the reef. I stood up on the coral to flag him down, and cut
my feet up pretty badly in the process. I was waving my lifejacket over
my head trying desperately to get his attention. It was such a relief
and immediate joy when he turned in our direction. The boat that came up
along side of us, were a couple of Americans who had moved to Belize a
couple of years ago. I told them we had been shipwrecked and needed a
ride to shore. They had spotted debris along the reef earlier and were
in the process of looking for survivors. Lucky for us. The feeling of
being rescued and knowing the nightmare was over was too much and we
started crying. All of us. We had spent 17 hours in the water. An
experience I would not wish on my worst enemy. They took us into the
main village on Cay Caulker and led us to the police station. Upon
telling our story to the sheriff, he exclaimed “We always find the
wreckage, but the makos always get the people.” A survivor had never
been found before. I informed him that there were 3 Columbians still out
there and did my best in describing where I thought they could be found.
The sheriff stepped outside and rang a huge bell and within minutes all
of the townsfolk were walking towards the town square. It was so
incredible to see the numbers of people who upon hearing about a
shipwreck, jumped into their boats and went searching for the other 3
survivors. They found Johnny clinging onto a mangrove on the north side
of the island. Oriano had missed the island and was found floating north
towards San Pedro. The Captain was found three hours later. He had been
taken back out to sea in the deep blue.
If I had not decided to make a swim for it, none of us would have been
found. When we were all reunited, it was quite emotional to know that
all of us had survived. We were ushered to the medical clinic and given
checkups. Johnny had to be immediately placed on a boat and transported
to the mainland for treatment. The little fish had eaten so much of his
skin that he was pink. I had lost about 15 pounds in the ordeal. Trenna
was in shock for quite awhile, not speaking or eating much. The town
women gave us clothes and cooked us a meal and rooms were given to us in
the nearby hotel. Their kindness and generosity will never be forgotten.
They wanted to take us to the mainland so that plans could be made for
our return to the states. I had wanted to continue our journey, but
Trenna wanted nothing to do with that idea. Trenna refused to be
transported by boat. But there was no airport and no other option. After
a week, she had calmed down enough to make the trip. One of the locals
was going to take us in his 20ft. fishing boat. Not more than two miles
into the trip, the engine died. While the driver was working on the
engine, we spotted a 14ft hammerhead shark swimming right alongside the
boat and continued circling. Trenna went into hysterics, screaming and
squeezing my arm so tight that her fingernails were digging into my
flesh. There wasn’t anything I could do to calm her down. Our poor
driver worked fast to get the engine running again. He successfully did,
but Trenna was back in shock.
Upon arriving in Belize City, we went to the US Embassy and talked to
the consulate. Upon hearing our story and our requests for help in
getting back home, he didn’t believe us since he had not heard anything
about a shipwreck. The most he would do was to allow us to make a
collect phone call. Upon leaving the Embassy, we ran into a couple of
friends from Canada, Bill and Elsa, whom we had met in San Pedro, and
they had heard about the shipwreck. We explained to them that we had
lost all of our money and the US Embassy refused to help us. Bill and
Elsa were leaving the next day and offered to pay for our flights on his
credit card.
It was quite a culture shock to land in Miami after living the island
life with only a backpack for luggage for the last five months. I know
that some of you are asking the question, why would I go sailing around
the world after such a horrible experience. My only answer is this:
What’s the chances of a man from Kansas being shipwrecked twice? The
odds are in my favor.
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| The ocean can be a lonely place |
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This happened in Belize back in 1981 |
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