Mayday Mayday Mayday
Posted: Monday, 07 July 2008 |
Standing on the rear deck of the boat as it rises and falls over 15m swells the helicopter hovers seeminly only a few feet above my head.
_____________________________________________________________
Things had been looking good, having left Kirkwall in Orkney for Lerwick in Shetland in thick fog (hurrah for radar) and no wind, with light winds forecast for the crossing we were hopeful for a nice smooth ride.
Getting close to Fair Isle things started to change, the wind got up and the sea started to get bigger, from a nice 1-2m swell to a 5m swell rolling in from the north east. The boat heaved and crashed through the waves and fortunatley the divers remained in their bunks as it was still early. Our progress slowed from 10 knots with the tide to 3 knots and the fridge managed to burst through its restraints and two huge cartons of milk splash onto the floor, divers emerge only to go swiftly back to their bunks.
The decision was made to call the coastguard to inform them that we were making slow progress in huge seas but were ok. The details were passed on channel 16 and then i made my way below to check the engine room and bilge.
I peered around the engine room door and the sight of two feet of water in our bilge met my eyes and i ran back up the access ladder to drop the bombshell to Hazel. Instantly the mood changed from one of resigned to a long rough crossing to dealing with a problem.
We issued a Pan Pan - one step down from a Mayday telling them that we were taking water and were starting our large bilge pumps to try to deal with the water. The coastguard launched the Lerwick Lifeboat and diverted the helicopter to stand by us until the lifeboat reached us.
I stagger my way out to the foredeck, spray and green water gushing over the deck and sit on one of the kitting up benches facing aft. At one point i actually lift over a foot off the bench being weightless from the swell. In the distance a small dot appears which quickly formed into a helicopter which hovers around 50m from our side, sending salt spray into the air.
The coastguard upgraded our situation to a Mayday which was relayed on channel 16 by the coastguard, unfortunatley meaning everyone in Scapa heard it prompting a lot of worry (thanks for being concerned guys :o) ) that we were in dire trouble.
Scotia, a fisheries research vessel had also heard our plea for help, and had diverted to our position. This huge boat was pitching and rolling so much her whole wave breaker bow came out of the water with each passing mountainous swell, now up to 15m in height (49 feet).
A pump was lifted from the Scotia and dropped to us by the helicopter. Myself and Barry wearing lifejackets and oilskins made our way slowly to the aft deck, clinging to the railings as the helicopter comes closer with the pump dangling below. Hovering what seemed like only a few feet above our mast, the skill of the pilot was breathtaking. He was close enough for me to be able to see right ino the helicopter and see the faces of the winch crew. With one final dip the pump is landed onto our aft deck, and i run back down the ladder to collect it from Barry.
Into the stifling heat of the engine room i go, and rig up the pump in the bilge to clear the remaining water. Our own pumps had slowly caught up on the water coming in and the levels had dropped significantly, but should they fail we would have been in serious trouble.
Slowly we make headway into the swell, and eventually find shelter in the lee of Bressay. We update the coastguard every 10 minutes of our position and situation, and eventually Lerwick comes into sight on the horizon.
Pulling into dock and getting our ropes sorted out finally the adrenaline leaves our systems. Collapsing into my seat i wonder how differently things could have turned out.
Calling for help is sometimes a hard decision, even though it shouldnt be. However, we are responsible for the lives and welfare of everyone aboard and at the time we could not be sure that our pumps would cope with the water coming in from what turned out to be a damaged rudder stock.
Knowing that when you call for help the coastguard will be there is a great feeling, and we are eternally grateful for their assistance. I hope they win their fight for a better pay deal.
I am also so thankful to the lifeboat for being there too, and having to suffer the same seas we were. Beer will be forthcoming, however they were re-deployed immediatley on returning to dock as a yacht had been de-masted east of Shetland.
Lerwick Lifeboat
_____________________________________________________________
Things had been looking good, having left Kirkwall in Orkney for Lerwick in Shetland in thick fog (hurrah for radar) and no wind, with light winds forecast for the crossing we were hopeful for a nice smooth ride.
Getting close to Fair Isle things started to change, the wind got up and the sea started to get bigger, from a nice 1-2m swell to a 5m swell rolling in from the north east. The boat heaved and crashed through the waves and fortunatley the divers remained in their bunks as it was still early. Our progress slowed from 10 knots with the tide to 3 knots and the fridge managed to burst through its restraints and two huge cartons of milk splash onto the floor, divers emerge only to go swiftly back to their bunks.
The decision was made to call the coastguard to inform them that we were making slow progress in huge seas but were ok. The details were passed on channel 16 and then i made my way below to check the engine room and bilge.
I peered around the engine room door and the sight of two feet of water in our bilge met my eyes and i ran back up the access ladder to drop the bombshell to Hazel. Instantly the mood changed from one of resigned to a long rough crossing to dealing with a problem.
We issued a Pan Pan - one step down from a Mayday telling them that we were taking water and were starting our large bilge pumps to try to deal with the water. The coastguard launched the Lerwick Lifeboat and diverted the helicopter to stand by us until the lifeboat reached us.
I stagger my way out to the foredeck, spray and green water gushing over the deck and sit on one of the kitting up benches facing aft. At one point i actually lift over a foot off the bench being weightless from the swell. In the distance a small dot appears which quickly formed into a helicopter which hovers around 50m from our side, sending salt spray into the air.
The coastguard upgraded our situation to a Mayday which was relayed on channel 16 by the coastguard, unfortunatley meaning everyone in Scapa heard it prompting a lot of worry (thanks for being concerned guys :o) ) that we were in dire trouble.
Scotia, a fisheries research vessel had also heard our plea for help, and had diverted to our position. This huge boat was pitching and rolling so much her whole wave breaker bow came out of the water with each passing mountainous swell, now up to 15m in height (49 feet).
A pump was lifted from the Scotia and dropped to us by the helicopter. Myself and Barry wearing lifejackets and oilskins made our way slowly to the aft deck, clinging to the railings as the helicopter comes closer with the pump dangling below. Hovering what seemed like only a few feet above our mast, the skill of the pilot was breathtaking. He was close enough for me to be able to see right ino the helicopter and see the faces of the winch crew. With one final dip the pump is landed onto our aft deck, and i run back down the ladder to collect it from Barry.
Into the stifling heat of the engine room i go, and rig up the pump in the bilge to clear the remaining water. Our own pumps had slowly caught up on the water coming in and the levels had dropped significantly, but should they fail we would have been in serious trouble.
Slowly we make headway into the swell, and eventually find shelter in the lee of Bressay. We update the coastguard every 10 minutes of our position and situation, and eventually Lerwick comes into sight on the horizon.
Pulling into dock and getting our ropes sorted out finally the adrenaline leaves our systems. Collapsing into my seat i wonder how differently things could have turned out.
Calling for help is sometimes a hard decision, even though it shouldnt be. However, we are responsible for the lives and welfare of everyone aboard and at the time we could not be sure that our pumps would cope with the water coming in from what turned out to be a damaged rudder stock.
Knowing that when you call for help the coastguard will be there is a great feeling, and we are eternally grateful for their assistance. I hope they win their fight for a better pay deal.
I am also so thankful to the lifeboat for being there too, and having to suffer the same seas we were. Beer will be forthcoming, however they were re-deployed immediatley on returning to dock as a yacht had been de-masted east of Shetland.
Lerwick Lifeboat
Comments
you hard a hard time,but i bet somewhere along you're journey you enjoyed it! I too,hope the costguards etc get a better deal moneywise and equipement wise as well--they do a great job and i think sometimes they get taken for granted:
carol from the usual place
Coastguard and Lifeboat crews cannot be commended highly enough, and I am very relieved that this incident ended well for all involved.
Arnish Lighthouse from Off Island, but normally Stornoway
glad your all safe (and the boat)!!! see you for a beer or ten in six weeks xx
robin the engine room boy from offshore
Thank God for Lifeboatmen who willingly go out when others run for safety
A from here
It seems you had a miracolous escape from any tragedy.
Prasanta Varma from New Delhi
DoD, you certainly did right to send a mayDay under such circumstances. The lifeboatmen prefer an extra job with live poeple at the end to bringing home corpses. It must have been a very unpleasant experience. By way of light relief, a week ago I got pulled off the mud outside of Inverness harbour by the local RNLI lads Doug, Dan and Rob amidst much laughter and RIBbing. No damage (except to my self-esteem), no danger
Barney from Swithiod praise the lifeboat men
What a story DoaD. Glad it had a happy ending and you're here to tell the tale.
Carol from IBHQ
Great story well written DoaD. I like a happy ending.
Flying Cat from gazing wistfullythrough the bars
Good job you phoned,otherwise your mum would have been on the next flight toshetland,Itseems you and Hazel coped well,good comments in the press!
old git from hot and sticky Lesbury
DoaD, Would you mind, are you able to tell us why you had water in your bilge? Scary! On the maiden voyage of one of my parents boats (small, twenty some feet) we ran into some heavy (for the boat) swells, Nothing really out of the ordinary. A bit later we saw a geyser/water spurting up a one inch drain hole in the cabin floor. Ran for the lee, and pumped out. Turns out the boat maker fouled up and on the inlet vents (clam shells forward) they put the vent pipes out of the bottom of the box (box inside of vent/clam shells facing forward, kind of like a dorade box on the side of the hull.) So we were scooping the water from the swells into the boat. Boat maker had a few boats besides ours to fix. Probably also shows that Dad didn't fully inspect the boat before the maiden voyage. Glad you didn't have to go for a swim! Take care, Jeff
Jeff from USA, Washington state
Helen, we've got to know each other through me being rescued by the coastguard too. Agreed. They are terrific!
Dave B from Liverpool
After coming to Orkney in May 2006 for 8 months, somehow I am still here. Running the MV Valkyrie in the summer and helping on the farm in winter is now my life. 
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