A big thank-you to Susie Zuelke, her crew Lee and Shelley Scifer, Voyager, and Terry and Valerie Van Meter, Passages, for saving two people as the two sailboats returned home from the January Joint Cruise at Island Home. The folks on Voyager and Passages made the difference between life and death for the people whose canoe had tipped them into the icy waters of Budd Inlet. Hypothermia is always possible in these waters, and particularly lethal on a day such as that. Thanks again to Susie, her crew, and Terry and Valerie for their alertness and immediate response to this dangerous situation.
Micki McNaughton, Commodore

The return from OYC/SSSS Cruise to Island Home on January 29th was a bit more eventful than expected for the crew of Voyager. After calm and sunny weather Friday and Saturday, Sunday marked a return to Puget Sound winter. As they say, there is no such thing as bad weather, only poor clothing choices. And since everyone at Island Home was decked out in foulies, the weather felt no compunction at alternating between heavy drizzle and light rain, with occasionally heavier showers and mist. It was 45 degrees with 15 kts out of the south, of course on the nose.

As the fleet departed Island Home, Skipper Suzie Zuelke chose to head down the east side of Squaxin Island along with a couple other boats. The tide was going our way until we rounded the south tip of the island and headed toward Budd Inlet. Despite the decidedly uncozy conditions, Acting first Mate Shelli Scifers and Designated-scribe-and-boat-hook-operator, Lee Scifers, remained in the cockpit with Skipper Suzie, happily swapping stories. We had all been harboring the thought of hoisting sail once we got past Squaxin. But despite a 45 degree heading change rounding the island, the wind remained a stubborn noserly. And by this time the incessant rain coursing down our necks had sapped most of our resolve to shut off the noisy iron genoa. So we proceeded under power.

Rounding the island, keen-eyed first Mate Shelli first noticed what looked like a couple of kayakers or possibly fisherman perhaps a mile ahead. She scanned with binoculars, but due to distance and choppy sea state, could not tell what sort of boat they were in. Over the next 10 to 15 minutes, Suzie and Shelli tracked their progress, just out of curiosity.

Scribe’s note: since they were located well beyond my visual range, your scribe had to rely on the Skipper and first Mate for these visual sightings until much later when they came within a few hundred yards. I spent most of the intervening time unsuccessfully searching for a spot in the cockpit where the rain wouldn’t blow and/or drip directly into my hood.

The mystery vessel progressed to the east and crossed well ahead of our bow. As we came more abeam but still a quarter mile away, Skipper Suzie noticed they seemed much lower in the water. Shelli used binoculars again and saw one of the pair waving, but still could not see their vessel. This seemed intriguing enough for us to alter course to investigate. As we turned off course, Island Home dock mate, Passages, motoring just ahead of us, noticed us diverting from course and also altered course to investigate.

As we approached, we realized they had capsized and were clinging to an overturned hull. Once within hailing distance, I inquired politely if they would like a lift. This was a totally unnecessary query, given that their paddles, cushions and flotation devices were scattered downwind like an impromptu yard sale. Neither of them were dressed for swimming. We still could not tell whether their boat was a canoe or a kayak since only the bottom was visible. It actually seemed rather more like some kind of submersible, barely breaking the surface between the waves.

Now the rescue operation began. The couple, a man and woman, both approximately 20 years old were both coherent but showing some early signs of hypothermia. Scribe’s note: that’s my best guess, but how would I know – having left that tender age astern some three decades ago. Everyone that age now looks like a child, especially when they are soaking wet and shivering,

As we came closer, the guy indicated he was a lifeguard and was doing okay but that the woman really needed help quickly. The guy asked that we take her aboard first. She appeared on the verge of panic. Scribe’s note: a clear indication that she grasped her situation accurately, since they were a quarter mile off shore, with the wind and tide pushing them further offshore.

Skipper Suzie brought Voyager to a stop right along side, about 10 feet downwind of them. Shelli opened the lifelines and I tossed them the end of a dock line. The guy was able to convince the woman to release her grip on their submersible and grab hold of our line. We pulled her the few feet to the side of Voyager, then Shelli and I each grabbed her arms and hoisted her, unresisting and unceremoniously up over the side of the boat and onto the deck.

Scribe’s note: this feat of strength wasn’t as impressive as it may seem, since she must have weighed all of 95 lbs soaking wet. Which she was.

She had enough strength to walk into the cockpit, but was clearly freezing and having trouble getting muscles to coordinate. The guy came over next, and at least had enough strength to grip Shelli’s wrist when she grabbed his, and he was hauled/scrambled up onto the side deck, too.

Skipper Suzie sent them both below and gave them towels, spare clothes, sleeping bags, hot cocoa and instructions to strip off their wet clothes, dry off, climb into the sleeping bags and drink the hot beverage. She then closed them in the cabin and returned to the helm.

Shelli and I had recovered two floating seat cushions, but were unable to secure the overturned canoe/kayak/submersible. It had a short painter at each end, but neither line had a loop we could snag with the boat hook. Further, the ropes were so short we could not raise them high enough out of the water to reach them from the deck of Voyager. After the first two tries, we decided it was better to get the young couple back to shore while Passages tried to collect the rest of the gear.

We hollered to Passages that we had the two souls and were taking them to Boston Harbor. Passages continued to collect paddles, flotation devices, kept the submerged canoe in sight and evidently called Boston Harbor on VHF. By the time we pulled up to the gas dock, the Boston Harbor folks were warming up their mini tugboat and asked if we had the two missing paddlers. The tug went out and retrieved the rest of the gear.

The couple rapidly thawed out in Voyager’s cabin and said they had dry clothes in their car. Captain Suzie volunteered to run ashore with their car keys and retrieved the dry duds. Once dressed and dry, they thanked us profusely and went on their way. And we went back to motoring into the rain and wind on the way to OYC, with a new topic to chat about in the cockpit. Made for a pretty nice cruise.

What we did right: we kept a good watch and identified the couple in danger; fished them out of the drink quickly; treated them for hypothermia; worked well as a crew; coordinated our efforts with Passages.

What we could have done better: Voyager has a perfectly good LifeSling on one side of the cockpit, and a horse collar rigged with a block and tackle on the other side. Either of which would have simplified hoisting a body out of the water, since Voyager has a fair amount of freeboard and no swim ladder. Captain Suzie pointed them out to us, but Shelli and I were not familiar enough with Voyager to know where to quickly rig the hoist, so elected to use the brute force method of hoisting instead. If we had had less manpower or the swimmers had been heavier or unconscious, this would not have worked.

Since Captain Suzie was able to bring Voyager safely within 10 feet of the swimmers, a simple heaving line worked fine. In rougher conditions, poor visibility, or if single-handed circling them while towing the LifeSling might have been the only safe way to approach them.

We communicated with Passages via the Yell-con i.e., Shelli yelled loud enough for them to hear us. Meanwhile, we had a perfectly good VHF down below, sitting un-used. A radio transmission might have been easier to understand and would have simultaneously informed other vessels in the area, too. We should have attempted to contact Boston Harbor the same way, although they seemed aware of what was going on by the time we arrived, probably because Passages gave them a call.

Lee Scifers