That which we dread…
21 August 2017 | Limu Island, Ha’apai Group, Tonga
Photo: The wonderfully benign conditions in the anchorage at Limu Island
Throughout our cruising life, one of the things that we have most dreaded was that one of us might be knocked or washed overboard when underway in bad weather conditions or at night, when it would be very difficult for the remaining person on Tregoning to find the "man-overboard". The assumption is that, under these conditions, the person falling overboard will be lost. Hence, when on watch during passages, we wear harnesses and tethers which keep us attached to the boat, especially at night, in bad conditions, or when the other person is asleep. And in bad conditions or at night, we do not leave the cockpit to go on-deck without alerting the other person. We have been very careful about staying onboard and proud of our record for more than nine years.
Finally, however, that which we have so dreaded came to be, and one of us fell overboard from Tregoning. And, yes, despite being Miss Anxiety-and-Caution, it was me!
While Tregoning was anchored at Limu Island we had left the dinghy trailing off the stern overnight. We rarely do this after having our outboard motor stolen in Panama but this was a suitably isolated place so we took the chance. The following morning, I stood on the side of Tregoning to pull the dinghy around from stern before we boarded it and went to shore. To flip the painter (the rope attached to the dinghy's bow) out sideways so that I could pull the dinghy around the corner of Tregonoing's stern, I leaned out against life-lines.
The slight problem was that I was standing in the only gap in the life-lines, where I had just opened the gate to allow me to step down into the dinghy once it was alongside. Leaning against a non-existent life-line did not allow me much time to realize that the support was not there, by which time I was already descending towards the water. Luckily, there was only water not a dinghy for me to fall onto, I kept hold of the dinghy painter, my Crocs and sunglasses stayed on, and my Tilly hat floated so I could grab it quickly. The wind and current pushed me and the dinghy away from Tregoning but it was easy to get into the dinghy and get us both back to Tregoning where Randall stood looking very surprised, wishing he had a camera in his hands, and trying to think of a suitably witty and pointed comment to make.
So even when the one event that we have both been dreading for the last nine-and-a-half years occurred, it was safe and even funny. If, eventually, one of us just had to fall overboard accidentally, it could not have been under more benign conditions or any less damaging...other than possibly to my pride.
But that does not make us any less cautious about preventing it from happening the rest of the time. In fact, it vindicates my rather obsessive habit of closing the life-line gates when they are not in use, particularly overnight.