12/7/10 - 12.00 UTC - 32.19.89S 174.01.82E agggghhhh
Flying Cloud
Julian Nichols
Mon 12 Jul 2010 11:27
By 22.00 UTC on the 11/7 the log records "45 knots apparent wind" - as our boat speed wasn't working we have to estimate true wind as around 50 knots (we were doing 9 knots on a broad reach under jib alone). Bottom line is its windy and rough - oh goody!
At 01.00 UTC on the 12/7 (1pm local time) we all braved the foredeck / trampoline to take down the slowly unfurling genneker - which I had stupidly left up (but furled) yesterday afternoon, even though I knew we wouldn't use it again. Anyway - excellent teamwork from the crew - Harry and Amanda - meant that everything ran smoothly.
Although photos of waves are probably the most boring things in the world, the photo is trying to show that the waves are way above the bimini - I estimate 4-6m, which was as forecast.
Then at 01.45 UTC it happened. I lost control of the boat as we sailed along. For the previous couple of hours I had been using the Port engine to stabilise our angle to the waves, thinking that the swell size (3-6m) and angle had become too much for the autopilot. We quickly found ourselves facing the wrong way, ie: bow into the waves with not enough motive power. A burst from the new Yanmar 55's and we were over the next wave but starting a somewhat out of control circle - I decided that the rudders must have become jammed in a Port turn. With some Starboard reverse, and the jib partially out we managed to "hove to" - Port beam onto the seas. Amanda took the helm whilst I used the satphone to make a call to Chris to discuss how to bleed / re-set the hydraulic steering. Just as i connected with Chris we were hit by a large wave which broke into the cockpit and threw Amanda across the cockpit into the table. We had no washboard in and I had opened the cockpit door to use the satphone. As the water poured down below alarms started to shriek - bilge pump alarms, gas alarms and god knows what else.
I determined that despite the size of the wave that hit us, we were "safe" hove to - and besides it was the only position we could sort of control. For the next 2 hours Harry and I attempted to re-align the rudders. When Harry stepped onto the boat, little did i realise how important his surfing skills would be - Harry called the wave sets to me as i tried to clamber into and out of the rear rudder wells!
By 05.00 UTC (5pm local) we seemed to be able to steer again. In this period of relative calm Amanda confesses that not only is she very bruised from the wave that threw her around, but that she also has quite a nasty cut to the leg. Unable to stitch, we settle for the ever popular (and over-used) steri-strips to close the wound.
Then at around 13.00 UTC i was awoken by the raw of engines and Harry shouting for help. The steering had failed again - but now the waves were bigger (around 6m+) and it was totally dark. I instantly knew we were facing the wrong way - into the waves with no speed. As i got to the helm i could feel the oncoming wave lifting the bow - the new Yanmars were put straight into wide open throttle. We didn't go forwards, but we didn't surf backwards either, which had been my main fear. After several more waves and some very nervous moments, the boat began to turn through the waves to Port. The boat totally refused to turn away to Starboard. However, just as we got to a "safe" position, I could not stabilise the turn and the boat continued until it was facing the oncoming waves again!
This game seemed to go on and on as my fuddled brain tried to work out how to stabilise the boat in a safe position. Eventually with the Port engine ahead, and half the jib out, we were able to keep Port side onto the seas. Every so often a wave broke into the cockpit, but the boat was stable and seemed happy to surf with the occasional wave.
At 14.10 UTC on the 12th (2am local on the 13th!) I did the sensible thing - I called my dad to alert the Falmouth Maritime Rescue & Co-ordination Centre, so that they could in turn inform NZ MRCC as I didn't have the number. We were safe but we couldn't steer the boat, so i though it was important to let someone know as there were no ships within VHF range (I had tried an All Ships and a Pan Pan).
The 3 of us spent a bizarrely peaceful night in the saloon asleep. The plan was to tackle the rudders again in the harsh light of day. I had already decided that we were now bound for a return to NZ!
With light came the realisation that the weather was still bad, and that the waves were still big.
Nevertheless, it was time to try and fix things. However, after a couple of hours of work - and many phone calls with my dad and Chris Smith - I came to a very disturbing conclusion. The problem was not with the hydraulics - the rudders were moving independently of their tiller heads. Or rather the Port rudder seemed totally jammed against the hull, whilst the Starboard rudder seemed to hang much further (around an inch) beneath the hull.
Exhausted, we got back in the saloon and lay down. At 22.36 I made the call to Pantenius, my insurers. "Yes that's right, the boat has no way of being steered, yes the crew is safe but I would like to arrange a commercial tow to salvage the boat..." That was a nasty realisation. The boat, my beloved Flying Cloud, was at risk. My next call was to NZ MRCC ... " I have never done this before, but how do I arrange a commercial tow to salvage a boat..." NZ MRCC rapidly pointed out that as we were 200nm North of the Northern tip of NZ, which is itself a long way from anywhere, any tow was only likely to come from a passing commercial vessel.
The reality was that the boat couldn't be towed anywhere until the Port rudder was made free, otherwise any tow would result in a never ending number of circles. We all put our brains together. If the worse came to the worse I could drop the rudders out....