Son's Soccer game was canceled this rainy wet Sunday morning, newspaper is read, 2nd coffee is next to me so thought I would describe something I hope none of you needs to experience - being hit by a hurricane at sea on a sailboat.
As I said in first post, the trip was uneventful for the most part - Cutter Rigged Sailboat pointed well, we had good working sails and until we were approaching Acapulco - a good auxiliary diesel engine. We only stopped a few times prior to Acapulco - Coiba Island for me to spearfish for fresh food, Punta Arenas in Costa Rica, then nothing until we were in Mexican waters. In 1961 the political and security issues in Nicaragua, El Salvador and Guatemala were a concern so we sailed past these countries. I do fondly recall seeing hundreds, if not more, of migrating Whale Sharks off the coast of Guatemala heading north. For those unfamiliar with the Pacific along Central and lower north America - strong off shore winds blow off the mountains providing excellent winds off the starboard beam for our trip north. We had little need for the engine until we were on the approach to Acapulco and started having problems. Expecting to need lots of diesel fuel for the long stretches without ports north of Acapulco - we bought 2-3 55 gallon barrels of diesel fuel and stored them on deck - a major mistake as we would learn later.
We had no electronics outside of a directional marine radio and carried a sexton and decent coastal charts. That's it. Storm/hurricane warnings and tracking in the early 60's was nonexistent. After 2 weeks in Acapulco we headed north with our auxiliary diesel engine "fixed" to Puerto Valarta - puerto Vallarta was just a small town in 1961 and we were just there to get fresh water since we were running behind schedule to take advantage of good winds and currents for the run up Baja. Unfortunately our engine gave out again and we had to sail into Mazatlan and through the breakwater without an engine. We spent a week in Mazatlan and provisioned the boat for the long haul to Southern Califorinia and again"fixed" the auxiliary engine and set sail for Cabo San Lucas and then north to SoCal. There were four of us on board but we lost one more crew on arrival in Cabo who had to return to school leaving three of us on board.
As stated previously in last post - we ended up anchored in Cabo for three weeks with broken engine and missed the ideal conditions for the run north. We tried numerous times to leave Cabo but ended up having to return for lack of wind. All attempts to reach the owner of the sailboat (Duet) were for naught. He apparently got into financial difficulties and essentially abandoned us and the boat. We even made a run to La Paz looking for engine parts to no avail. After three weeks in Cabo we get word from fishermen that a strong storm/huuricane/Tabasco was headed north and we should leave Cabo for safety. We decided to return to Mazatlan where the harbor was protected. We sailed out and headed East by Southeast and were quickly becalmed in huge swells coming from the south. We floated up and down and we had our mainsail and two jibs up flopping in the wind (another big mistake) when I was relieved of my watch at midnight and went forward and crashed on the fore port bunk falling asleep immediately.
Not sure of the time - but I was thrown from the bunk onto the port side where there was a port hole - the sounds, fury, and angle of the boat, me coming from a deep sleep - all I could think was we're we're going under. I crawled through the bat to the cockpit and found the captain, his girlfriend, trying to reef the mainsail, while the boat was keeled heavily to port with a wall of water flying over our heads and the wind howling through the rigging. We quickly tied our selfs to the boat with a line (there are no ropes on a sailboat - only lines) and gave up trying to reef the mainsail - impossible anyway, and just try to steer the boat quartering into the waves.
It was surreal - the wind was so strong that it was whipping the top of the swells/waves throwing a layer of water above our heads as if we were underwater, we were now very worried about the 55 gallon barrels full of diesel fuel tied along the starboard and port stanchions forward of the cabin so the captain tied himself to a long line and attempted to crawl forward to cut them loose. He failed - too rough, too windy, too much water, too dangerous.
Too much was happening to feel fear but I was sure the boat would sink and I started to question how I could survive in water that rough. We did put on life jackets but they would not of helped much in those conditions.
I have no sense of time but it wasn't long that things started to come apart. First the main sail shredded starting on the roach - as one of the lines holding the outer jib broke taking the jib away. This was followed by the 55 gallon fuel barrels tearing across the deck taking the stanchions along with them. Fortunately the mainsail lines held leaving the heavy dangerous Boom secure and with sails being shredded, the pressure on the mast reduced - fortunately becasuse our mast held.
The night passed slowly with the three of us in our underwear (roused from our bunks) huddled together, cold,, wet, scared tied together and to the boat wondering if we would survive the night.
Dawn broke grey, cold, with rough seas with diminished but still strong winds and fortunately no shore to run aground on - with the realization that we're probably not going to sink. As it got a little lighter we saw the decks were cleared, only a small jib was left and main jib was gone and mainsail was mostly gone with strips left on the mast and boom. We stayed huddled until the winds died down enough and waves diminished enough to allow us to cut away and clear the stanchions and tattered sails and lines and clear the deck of dangerous loose stuff that could hurt us.
We hove to with a jury rigged sea anchor as evening fell and started preparing to jury rig the sails to make it into Mazatlan the next day. We jury rigged a big jib at daybreak the following day. We had no idea were were were and it was dark grey ugly day as we lifted the sea anchor and made our way east until we saw shore line then turned south knowing we were blown far north into the Sea of Cortez by the storm.
It was late in the afternoon under dark stormy clouds when we saw the breakwater and port of Mazatlan and limped in under stormy seas/skies and anchored in the bay under unbelieving stares and looks from other boats and ships in port for safety.
To be continued ..........
