“We have a problem,” said Jeff. I had passed out on my bunk after finishing my shift at 1 a.m. when he awoke me.
What now? I thought.
The boat was gently rocking on the swells and the soft sound of slicing through the seas seemed to indicate the boat was moving well. I quickly slipped on my shorts and shirt and climbed up through the companionway and glanced at the sails. The mainsail had 3 reefs, although the wind felt gentle at about 12 knots. We were still recovering psychologically from the raging seas the night before. We were reluctant to shake out the reefs until at least daylight.
“Look at this,” said Jeff. He pointed the flashlight over the stern of the boat. A long string of fishing buoys dragged behind the boat. “I think it must be struck on the keel or rudder. It’s slowing us down.”
I glanced at the steering wheel. The autohelm struggled to keep the boat straight. A piercing beep replaced the groaning and grinding noise from under the deck where the autohelm was located. The autohelm had stopped functioning. I grabbed the wheel and could not turn it. I glanced at the chart. We were 5 miles east of Barbuda, getting pushed towards the rocky shore by the current and wind. With no rudder or forward motion, it would be a matter of hours before we were shipwrecked.
“I see what you mean,” I replied, trying not to reflect the panic that ran through my mind.
Jeff had a boathook in his hand. Leaning over the stern, he hooked the line, but the pressure of the weight of the buoys prevented him from pulling it up. As he let it go we thought about the next steps and watched the string of fishing buoys trail behind us. Putting the engine into reverse might cause the rope to get tightly wound in the propeller. We tried it anyway…….. The boat refused to go in reverse.
“Oh oh,” I said helpfully. “Now what?”
The string of buoys began to move closer to the boat and seemed to unwind itself as the rudder was at twisted maximum to starboard. It was fascinating to see the problem resolve itself, as if guided by an unknown power. The string of buoys disappeared into the horizon. Jeff and I shrugged our shoulders. I activated the autohelm. It immediately bounced into action and steered a course to the east end of Antigua, away from the rocky shores of Barbuda. Whew!
5 a.m. rolled around as we entered Falmouth harbour uneventfully. Will went to the bow and released the anchor and 80 feet of chain. We had made it! I powered the reverse to set the anchor only to be met with a loud thudding sound as the stern of the boat vibrated as if it were trying to split itself in half. I put the engine in neutral.
After 10 days at sea with a short stop in Bermuda to avoid bad wheather….We made it to Antigua!
“There must be something wrapped around the propeller,” said Will.
“Let’s have a drink to a successful trip! We’ll sort out the propellor in the morning,” I shouted. Will knocked back a couple of scotches and Jeff downed a cold beer. We made our way to our bunks and fell asleep.
The next morning, we anchored in Galleon Bay in English Harbour while we waited for Nelson’s Dockyard to moor us Mediterranean style. Will dove into the warm Caribbean waters to cool off and after a few minutes, surfaced with the netting that was wrapped around the propeller. With the propellor back in business, we were capable of backing into our med style mooring at Nelson’s Dockyard.
It is said that when planning to meet a sailor, one can select a time, or one can select a place, but not both…….. In this instance, Ileana, my wife, had flown into Antigua on November 10th, two full days before we arrived. I had booked her into the Antigua Yacht Club Hotel. The view of the Falmouth harbour was magnificent.
Every morning, I would run up to Shirley Heights and admire the view. I could identify my boat from 493 feet above sea level, and feel the warm trade winds tickle my skin as the sweat poured off my body. It is unusually hot in Antigua with daytime temperatures over 30 degrees. Even the Antiguans are complaining….. I would complain as well except I noted it was 2 degrees in King City….
View of English Harbour and Falmouth Harbour from Shirley Heights
It is great to be here. There is a rum tour (not sure if you know this, but sailors drink a lot of rum!) and historical talk on Nelson’s Dockyard, a UNESCO hertitage site. We plan to spend the days getting things ready for our next trip on Tuesday to Jolly Harbour, on the west coast of Antigua.
books by John Hagen
