Alone

 

ASSATEAGUE and KISKA had a week of joint training in Honolulu; law enforcement refresher, damage control, and other military specialty training.  We didn’t get to see KISKA and that crew too often; it was a good week to refresh friendships.  

 

We were both making preparations for a patrol…we were going to do some towing drills then split the MHI Line between the two units for a few days before each cutter headed into a maintenance period.  It was early evening when we cleared the sea buoy, enough light to each make a towing approach.  Before we set the training details, Group Hono raised ASSATEAGUE on CH23 secure.

 

They had a 121 EPIRB hit and wanted both boats to head in the general direction.  The 121s were good but didn’t provide exact position like a 406 would.  It would be faster for both cutters if we could triangulate and find the vessel together.  You could feel the mains on ASSATEAGUE as the OOD pushed down on the throttles…it was calm out, so were heading southwest about 20 knots.  There was enough light to see the black smoke billow from the exhaust ports as KISKA matched speed but headed south-southwest to gain some distance between the two responding units.

 

It didn’t take long for both cutters to pick up on the signal and to start alter course to intercept the contact.

 

The CO on KISKA raised my Captain, and they decided how to approach.  Since KISKA was heading further away from their homeport, once we made radio contact with the vessel, they would peel off and slow steam the MHI Line back to homeport.  As long as ASSATEAGUE kept broadcasting in the clear, it may give some cover to KISAK, and they might surprise a fishing vessel.

 

We found a sailboat that appeared to be making the broadcast and attempted to raise them on the radio.  The radio call we got back was jumbled and hard to understand.  They had sails up but were on a southeasterly course that would avoid the Hawaiian islands altogether…the next landmass they would see was South America about 3000 miles away.  

 

Captain got the Chief and me on the bridge, and he wanted to set the LE detail with me and the MK2.  This was an unusual move.  I was expecting the Rescue and Assistance Detail, not an armed boarding team.  It was the CO’s call, and he had his doubts if the sailboat was indeed in distress.  

 

After successfully launching the boat, we made our way to the sailboat.  These, usually, were easy boardings; much easier to embark on a sailboat vice fishing vessel.  As we neared, we called out several times but couldn’t see anyone on deck. 

 

I told the MK2 I would go first, and we would check out the cockpit before heading below.  We easily transferred to the sailboat and saw the helm lashed, explaining the boat’s steady progress.  If the wind shifted, they might be in trouble, but for now, a pretty steady 135 true.  The cockpit was open, and we heard a voice below:

 

“Coast Guard?”

 

“Yes sir.  Lieutenant Junior Grade Jeff Dow from Coast Guard Cutter ASSATEAGUE.  Can we come below?”

 

“Yeah…yeah.”

 

“Cap, are you in distress?”  There were three below, two adult males and a young boy.

 

“Well…I don’t know…I guess…I am not sure…maybe…”

 

He was in his early thirties, a bit wiry, he wore a loose shirt and shorts.  His appliance just said “sailor”  I am not sure how to describe it other than a feeling.  He moved n the saloon with balance and looked like he would be at ease behind the lashed helm we left above.  The other gentleman sat on a bench, straight back with both hands on his knees.  He was a bit older…40s…50s?  Round glasses, button-down shirt, jeans, and tennis shoes.  He looked like an accountant—anything but a sailor.  The young boy had his head down, arms across the stomach and rocking slightly.  Seasick maybe?  It wasn’t rough weather, but the small sailboat was moving some.

 

“Sir, maybe you can tell a bit of what’s going on.”

 

The boy was his son, and they were from Kauai.  He was sailing this boat to Honolulu for hire.  The bespectacled gentleman was a neighbor who thought a quick trip to Hono would be fun.  

 

As a side note…if you are from the East Coast and are accustomed to the American Boating Public in, say Miami or Newport, you can take a day sail and be fine.  In Hawaii, you had to know what you were doing.  If you made a mistake, you were in open ocean quickly…and 4000 miles offshore—you had to know what you were doing as a boater in Hawaii.

 

“Sir, we got an EPIRB hit…did you activate yours?”

 

“Yeah, I did…we have been gone since last night…I think I need help…”

 

“What kind of , sir?”

 

“When we left, I had been sick…not feeling well and on medication…but this medication has made me sick…I can’t really do much.  Vertigo or something…”

 

You have to be kidding me…he was fighting vertigo and seasickness.  

 

“And my boy…he is sick and hasn’t stopped throwing up since we left.  He’s just seasick…thought he could take it but, I guess not…I am so sorry.”

 

Ok..ok…

 

“Hey there buddy, how are you feeling?”

 

The boy didn’t get a chance to answer; he threw up, again, in the pan in front of him.  I’m not a doctor, and I sure as hell didn’t want to get an up close look, but it looked like he was throwing up blood.  

 

“OK Captain…let’s get you off your boat and to the cutter…the ride is better, and maybe we can call the doctor and see what we can do.”

 

I looked at the accountant and asked him if he could sail the boat to Hono…it would take some time, but we could escort him so he would have help if he needed it.

 

“I’ve never been on a boat before.”  And with that, he started throwing up as well.  

 

It was one of those days.

 

“OK…give me a minute…”

 

It took more than a minute to relay this to the Captain.  We decided to evac all of them back to the cutter, and we would tow the sailboat back to Hono…which would be faster.  We agreed the MK2 would go back with the three passengers, and I would stay with the sailboat and await the final decision from the Captain.  I was the only one who had any experience with sailing…it and been a few years, but I had sailed while at the Academy a few times.

 

I was an idiot.

 

One slight problem with this plan—to recover the small boat, ASSATEAGUE had to drive away from the sailboat to recover the small boat.  When ASSATEAGUE , left I was alone…I could still see the small boat and the cutter for few , but then they both were out of sight.

 

Great…literally alone in the Pacific.  I was reasonably confident they could find me again…I mean, yeah, of course, they can find me…they were the Coast Guard.  But MAN…I was breathing a little harder, looking over my should a little more, my brain was running through every worst case-scenario.  In this , they were all atrocious endings to my career and worse.

 

I knew I had to do something to keep my focus on where I was and not what might happen.  First thing I did was eject the round in my 9mm and put it back in the magazine; loaded the mag but didn’t chamber the round.  I also set the safety to be…well…safe.  I had visions of somehow tripping, the gun going off, hitting me in the thigh, cutting the femoral artery, and bleeding out before the cutter came back to get me.  

 

I told you, I had a pretty active imagination.

 

Next thing I did was take off my body armor, which restricted my movements, and in the unlikely event I fell overboard, I didn’t want that dragging me down.  I checked my flares to make sure I had them all and could find them.

 

OK…that took about three and a half minutes…shit.

 

OK, sails, I decided to take them down…seemed like a good idea for many reasons.  So, pulling back layers of rust, I called upon my memory banks on proper procedures on taking in the sails. This was a more complicated process.  I got the main and the jib down and lashed them secure.  I moved to the foc’sle and cleared that area in anticipation of towing this boat. 

 

OK…that was like eight minutes…and still not ASSATEAGUE, no radio call.  One thing I didn’t try was raising the boat in the clear with my handheld (coded comms had a shorter range).

 

A few thoughts:

 

     1. I didn’t want the cutter or the crew to hear me on the radio.  I’m not gonna lie, I was pretty scared.  When you are alone at home, you think every creak is Michael Meyers coming to pay a vista.  But you are in your home.  Imagine being on an unfamiliar sailboat in the middle of the ocean in the middle of the night.  It sucked.  I was afraid I might not sound so XO-like if I tried to call.

 

     2.  This might be a bit contradictory…I didn’t want to find out if I was out of range or if I was having problems with my radio.  Radio comms was saved for the shit hitting the fan and I didn’t want to know that my lifeline was out of commission

 

     3.  The sailboat’s radio…yeah…I could have used that; but I COMPLETELY forgot about that at the time.  Give me a break it was just a freaky situation.  You try it sometime.

 

After what had to have been three, four hours (or something like 35 minutes), my radio crackled.

 

“XO, ASSATEAGUE”

 

In my best John Wayne

 

“Go for XO.”  Yeah, I pulled that off!

 

“I assume you would rather not stay aboard if you didn’t have to.”

 

He was right; the Captain knew I didn’t like sailboats.

 

“Well sir that’s not my preference, but it doesn’t make much sense to come get me.  I can set up the tow and stay aboard until we get someone to take it alongside and bring it into port.”

 

“The QM3 and the FN have asked if they could take it in.”

 

I laughed…they were two young bucks (like I was anything other than a younger buck), but it didn’t surprise me in the least they wanted to do this.  I think no one loved being on a ship more than those two.  

 

“Roger that Captain, send them over.  I’ll show them what to do to set up the tow, what they need to do then if you want, I’ll make the approach.”

 

“Wheels beat you to it. When you come back, just head to the bridge and handle the comms.”

 

“I can do that, sir.”

 

We did the crew swap; they came over with a bag of food and drinks and acted like they were 10 year-olds going to their first sleepover.  I showed them what to do, got myself in the small boat, and about 20 minutes later we were setting the towing detail.

 

I made my way to the bridge, and the QM1 had the deck and the conn.  Usually, I drove when setting up a tow; QM1 was a new Deck Officer, but he picked up the skills quickly and was a great ship driver in his own right.  He made the approach, and handled the comms with the deck department.  It was a calm night, and we got the tow set up with little fanfare. 

 

Once we started our way to Hono, the cook got on the radio with the Flight Surgeon; not much we could do, but there would be an ambulance waiting on the pier for the father and son.  I had no idea what their friend was going to do.  

 

And that was that…one more case in the books.