South atlantic Disaster May 2010

Hollinsclough - Is the World Round?
Mon 17 May 2010 15:20

South Atlantic Disaster May 2010

Yacht Hollinsclough sailing in the Southern Ocean ice convergence zone of the South Atlantic between South Georgia and Cape Town  and survived the impact of an ice berg growler. The structure and integrity of the yacht weathered a storm force gale, seas at seven meters and wind gusting over sixty knots to keep the family afloat through a thirty six hour ordeal. Royal Navy warship HMS Clyde provided a heroic and determined rescue to save the family.

Yacht Hollinsclough was hove too enduring the gale when she hit a growler ice berg debris in the early hours of Friday 7th May in the darkness of a clouded night. The storm developed to full gale. A knockdown of the yacht followed as water ingress brought more instability to the stricken vessel.  Wind gusts measured over sixty knots in big South Atlantic seas.

Formal Mayday was issued to Falmouth on the Friday Damage in the yacht was building as nature defeated the defence of the hull structure. The family endured the gale through that last darkness hove too focusing on sailing issues that could best save their lives. Sea surface temperatures by sunrise on Saturday were below minus five celsius.

When Mayday tasked the Warship HMS Clyde she was targeted at twenty four hours, Lt Commander Steve Moorhouse and his crew excelled themselves in arriving eighteen hours, themselves fighting the very same South Atlantic Gale. The margin was narrow our family would have been unlikely to win the fight of the freezing ocean from the life rafts.

We owe our lives to the bravery and determination of HMS Clyde, it was a miracle of God to find her on station so far south of the World. The Royal Navy, modern technology, satellite communication and the luck of God saved our lives

hollinsclough {CHANGE TO AT} mailasail {DOT} com

 

      

 

Extract of Mail on Sunday article by Jonathan Petre

Mayday! How the growler got us: Couple struck by iceberg and saved by Royal Navy tell of their terrifying ordeal


By Jonathan Petre Sunday Mail

A British couple whose yacht was sinking under them after it hit an iceberg in a South Atlantic storm have spoken for the first time about how they feared they and their daughters were about to drown – just before being plucked from the ocean in a miraculous rescue mission by the Royal Navy.

Recalling their terrifying ordeal, Mr Lomas said: ‘It was a very close shave. I do believe in God and I can only think someone was watching over us. It was a miracle the Navy was so close.’ Saved by a Navy officer who climbed aboard their doomed £500,000 yacht and said: 'Good afternoon, how can we be of assistance?'

It was 2am on May 7 when, despite their sophisticated radar and scanning equipment, they smashed into a low-lying iceberg known as a ‘growler’, similar to the type that sunk the Titanic. Mr Lomas, who was on watch in the cockpit, said: ‘It was pitch black when we hit the ice. The sound was like marbles clattering around a frying pan or being dropped on a glass table.

'It was the worst sound I had ever heard in my life. It seemed like an hour but it probably lasted for about 10 seconds. ‘The iceberg ran under the entire length of the yacht, tilting it to one side. At first Mr Lomas and his wife could see no sign of damage in the fibreglass hull and thought they had had a lucky escape.

But as the new day dawned they realised the yacht was becoming increasingly damp – and unstable. At midday, the boat suffered what Mr Lomas called a ‘knock-down’ – blown over flat on to its side by a 40 knot wind, leaving the mast lying in the waves. Though it righted itself after about five minutes, the boat took on even more water in the process. 

Mr Lomas, who was back in the cockpit after a couple of hours’ sleep, said: ‘My initial sensation was that my safety harness was feeling incredibly tight. 'Then I realised I was lying on my side. My wife and I were covered in water, from head to toe. It was incredibly scary.

 ‘Fortunately both my daughters were down below in the cabin, and though water did get in there, it was by no means flooded. ‘I was staggered at the coldness of the water and my real fear set in when I checked the floor bilges [the lowest part of the boat] and found the boat was awash with water. I was in shock and it was at that point we all put on our waterproof survival suits.’

They were now about 300 miles north-east of South Georgia and they couldn’t turn back because the winds were against them. Mr Lomas said: ‘We were very much alone in the Atlantic. There is a very limited amount of shipping out there and I realised we might have little chance of a rescue.’

Aware of the grave danger they were facing, the family began bailing out the yacht using electric and manual pumps, and even buckets.

Mr Lomas was able to send out a Mayday alert using the yacht’s emergency system, to alert any shipping in the area. He said that this was his lowest moment during the ordeal. Tracey explained: ‘It was the fear of how the children were going to cope with what we had to tell them. In fact they told me, “Don’t worry mummy. It is all going to be OK”.’

No ship responded to Mr Lomas’s SOS – but it was picked up thousands of miles away back in England, by coastguards at Falmouth in Cornwall who run the Maritime Rescue Co-ordination Centre. They contacted officials in Stanley, capital of the Falklands, who in turn alerted the Royal Navy’s offshore patrol vessel HMS Clyde which, by chance, was operating near South Georgia at the time.

The warship was only 295 miles away from the stricken yacht and would have been able to reach the Hollingsclough Oyster within 24 hours. Mr Lomas said: ‘After a nervous wait, Falmouth coastguards came back to me with the simple message – “Finest are available” – the finest being the Royal Navy.

‘Through the luck of the gods, we had a warship in range. It was the luckiest thing ever. We just felt elation. Morgause said, “Don’t worry, we are not going to die today. The Royal Navy is on its way”.’

However, the family was still in great danger and as his yacht sank lower into the water and was lashed by huge waves and winds, Mr Lomas began to fear that HMS Clyde might not reach them in time. He wrote at the time in his log: ‘We are not saved yet. Fingers crossed.’

The terrified family had to spend another night on their doomed boat.  It had a damaged hull and rudder, the power was failing so the lights were flickering on and off and more and more water was coming in. On top of all this, the weather was getting worse, with swells growing to 30ft. The family gathered in the main bedroom and tried to keep their spirits up by remembering the high points of the voyage: seeing turtles and humpback whales off Brazil and spending time on Robinson Crusoe Island, a tropical paradise in the South Pacific.

But it was difficult to remain optimistic as the children lay shivering and scared in the middle of the bed gripping each other, while their mother and father tried to comfort them by cuddling them from either side. But there were no tears from the girls.

‘The yacht was creaking and groaning,’ Mr Lomas said. ‘We could hear the ocean trying to tear our rudder out while water sloshed around our bed. 'In the battle between the structure of our yacht and the force of nature, nature was winning. None of us slept.’

By the time daylight arrived, there was a foot of icy water in the cabin. ‘Every time the boat rolled with the waves the boat shook, and the water inside shifted,’ said Mr Lomas.

By now they were seriously afraid that HMS Clyde would not reach them in time and they prepared for the worst, inflating the yacht’s two life rafts, and then sheltering in the cockpit to eat cold Cornish pasties to build up their strength for the ocean ordeal they were sure they faced.

Caitland said: ‘The scariest bit for me was thinking we might have to get into the life rafts. The waves were so big and it was so cold.’  Her father added: ‘We were exhausted. At 6.30am we watched the  sunrise and that raised our spirits. Morgause checked the radar to see if she could spot HMS Clyde, but we couldn’t see it.

'So we sat in the cockpit waiting as we drifted in the huge swell. It wasn’t until about 11am that we heard the first human voice come through on the radio – and the
warship came into view about an hour later.’

The Navy vessel had battled through 30ft waves and icebergs to reach them in just 18 hours, five hours fewer than had originally been estimated. ‘They ran the ship flat out all the way, which was just as well – a couple of hours later and our yacht would have sunk,’ said Mr Lomas.

‘Caitland was the first one to spot the smoke from the warship on the horizon and then Morgause broke into the song All Things Bright And Beautiful. We all joined in. It was very emotional.’

Within two hours, the first naval officer reached the sinking yacht with a rescue team.
Mr Lomas recalled: ‘The officer jumped on board our yacht and said, “Good afternoon. I am Lieutenant Rob Stavely from the Royal Navy. How can we be of assistance?” ‘What a boy! I was proud to be English. You couldn’t be more English. He was so professional.’

Then, from the warship’s bridge, they watched Hollinsclough disappear below the waves as the sun began to set. ‘It was like losing a member of the family,’ said Mr Lomas. ‘The captain sounded a long salute of honour on the foghorns as she went down. The girls were crying.’

Mr Lomas described the Navy’s efforts to save them as heroic. Their last blog entry reads: ‘Bound for England to take stock of a tremendous adventure for which we must thank God for the good fortune of our rescue.’