I thought I escaped unscathed…

I ran into a fishing net with buoys sailing to Antigua off the coast of Barbuda. It was wrapped around the propeller, rudder, and keel. I lost all ability to steer. In the middle of the night, it was pitch black. The seas were rough, and the wind was howling. A strong wind and current were pushing us towards the rocky shores of Barbuda a few miles away. The thought passed through my panicked mind to abandon ship, something we had practiced. Then, it was like a miracle, almost as if Neptune himself was under the boat. The fishing net freed itself and drifted off as if it were looking for another boat to capture….. I thought I had escaped unscathed….

“Could you scrub the bottom of my boat?” I asked the marina scuba diver in Jolly Harbour, Antigua, who said he needed a little extra cash. My wife, Ileana and I had arrived after the Christmas holidays, escaping the cold winter at home. The boat had been in the marina for the past month, under the watchful eyes of the security staff. The batteries had remained charged, the boat had the same equipment on board as when we had left, and best of all, S/V Ileana seemed ready for adventure and sailing. Our plans would take us north to St. Martin, then on to the BVI. I hoped to be in Samana, the Dominican Republic, by mid March to meet up with my daughter and her family during their spring break. Barnacles, algae and other sea creatures would be stuck to the hull slowing us down, so a good scrub would make the sail northwards smoother.

“Sure, $200.US cash only.” He replied.

It is always difficult to know if the cleaner is going to do a good job, but he promised a video to show off his good work. After 2 hours, he pops his head up from the depths and says, “Captain, you have a problem. At the front, just below the waterline, you have an enormous hole in the fiberglass. What the f*** did you hit?”

He showed me the underwater video of the damage. I saw raw, exposed fiberglass peeling off the hull. The damage seemed to carry on forever. Later that afternoon, I arranged to have the boat pulled from the water and into the yard.

I thought back to the last time when I had fiberglass work done in my old boat, a 1988 C&C 35. A hole the size of a bowsprit appeared above the waterline on my starboard hull, midship. It happened while I tried to take my spinnaker down. I was in a single-handed sailing race. It was 2 a.m. The spinnaker was stuck at the top of the mast and I had run to the bow of the boat to pull it down. The enormous waves and 20 knot winds were too strong for me to manage a spinnaker by myself in the pitch-black darkness of Lake Ontario. I glanced to my right, downwind from me. My heart skipped a beat. It was almost like it happened in slow motion- another boat, the red and green navigation lights appeared silently out of the darkness, about to ram into me. I raced back to the stern in a panic, forgetting I had tethered myself onto the jack line. The momentum of my body and the tension of the tether flipped me on my back. I was staring at the sky, struggling to breathe as I lay winded from the impact of landing on the deck. A sickening crunch of splintering fiberglass echoed across the deck as the other boat skewed mine. That small hole cost me $18,000. I felt I got soaked, but that is what us sailors expect. Everyone knows a boat is a hole in the water in which to throw money……

The defect discovered in my beautiful Hanse 508, Ileana, by the scuba diver cleaners was ten times the size of the bowsprit hole! I quickly did the math and almost fainted. I called my friend and Hanse dealer, Pat Sturgeon. He put in a call into Hanse USA. “Call your insurance” was the response.

I should have suspected other factors were at play. I asked for a survey to make a strong case for the insurance. Seymour, the surveyor, met with me. Seymour had been in the boat survey business for 38 years. His eyes bulged as he looked over the damage. He shook his head when he explained he had never seen anything like this, I expected the worse. My original estimates were likely way off…..

“Look,” he said. “They have already started the work on the repair, before I the chance to inspected the damage. Any report I do would be of little value because I didn’t do the survey from the beginning. The insurance company would have too many doubts about the integrity of the survey.” Seymour was clearly a highly ethical and honest individual

“Huh,” I replied. “Could you check the rest of the hull for other areas of delamination, osmosis, or water in the hull?”

“Sure,” he replied. Seymour spent the next hour with moisture meter, a machine that measures water in the hull. Every few inches, he would place the moisture meter on the hull and look at the numbers that appeared on the screen. He also tapped the hull with a small hammer, listening for any subtle changes in the sound. He found none. “Your hull is in perfect shape.”

“Whew, that’s a relief.” I said, “How much do I owe you?”

“Nothing,” he said. “I didn’t do a report. There’s nothing else wrong with the boat. So you don’t owe me anything.” Something was clearly amiss. Seymour had spent an hour with me. It seems that many in the sailing world have schemed all kinds of ways to extract money. I am approached daily by others trying to sell items from croissants to canvas repair services. Everyone is trying to make a buck. What’s the real story here, I thought. I am really going to get soaked for the fiberglass repair. Seymour just feels sorry for me…..

When the netting got stuck in the propeller, the forces tore the soft grounding metal alloy from the propeller, leaving a space where it was exposed. Barnacles were growing in the water intake. Ivan, the Jolly Harbour diesel engine mechanic commented on some oil he noticed in the bilge and explained there may be a leak. He suggested that he take apart the sail drive to clean the heat exchanger and water intake. He explained it was a good idea to clean these parts every 1000 hours. My engine had 893 hours. I sighed. I’ll probably have to sell the boat to pay for the repairs……

Ivan toiled for four long and sweaty days in the narrow confines of the boat engine compartment taking the engine apart, then putting it back together.

We checked into a hotel and toured around Antigua while the repairs were underway. Every Sunday night, Shirley heights, 493 feet above the sea on top of the towering cliffs looking over the ocean comes alive with a steel band and a lively barbeque. Tourists from around the island come for the party. The sunset is one of the best in the Caribbean with the sky lighting up with spectacular colours that are difficult to name because they are so vibrant and bright. If you get lucky, the green flash could appear seconds before the sun disappears. The mood is vibrant with people dancing and laughing. Strangers talking with each other like they are long lost friends. Everyone there is happy and a sense of peace and quiet hover over the crowd in the final moments of the sunset with the gathering of onlookers remaining speechless totally immersed in the beauty of it.

After a week, the boat was finally ready to go back in the water. When I asked for my bill, Jesse, the fiberglass repairman explained he had yet to calculate the cost. My heart sank at the news. “We’ll settle in the morning,” he said. I tried to calculate the limits on all four of my credit cards to see if I could come up with enough to pay for the repairs. I wondered if Jesse would accept installments while I sorted things out with my insurance….

Today is Sunday. I sit in the cockpit of S/V Ileana marveling at the kindness and generosity of the staff at Jolly Harbour Marina. The fiberglass repair cost me $2500. When I went to pay, I asked Jesse if he forgot a zero at the end, perhaps two zeros. He laughed. “I wish,” he said. He bid me farewell and thanked me for the business.

It was the same for the engine repairs. Ivan, despite spending four miserable days in the sweltering hot engine compartment, was grateful for the business and thanked me.

On Wednesday next week, I plan to sail to Barbuda, spend a few days, then I’m off to St. Martin. This entire experience which had me initially thinking it could be the end of my sailing adventures turned out to be a very positive time by trusting the honesty and integrity of the marina staff. Reassured in the good nature of humanity, I am constantly surprised and pleased by the wonderful people I meet along the way.