Photo: Daybreak after the storm

"Shit" I screamed in sudden panic. The headsail flailed noisily in the wind and I realised the sheet rope had snapped. The tremendous 'bang' as it parted sent me reeling down into the cockpit floor. Gary, my Commodore brother, shook off his seasickness and heaved himself out of his bunk to join me on the rolling deck.  I could see little in the pitch black darkness. We needed to react quickly to secure the redundant port side sheet to the winch to somehow control the dangerously flogging sail. In no time it would tear itself into shreds, just like before. With the wind now well over 45kts, I turned Sänna's bows into the heaving sea, which then hurled green water down the deck as we prepared to furl in the already reefed sail. Then, unbelievably, the bowline knot of the remaining sheet shook itself free and the furling line jammed. Now we were in big trouble.

I cursed this Gulf of Aden, Marie and I had already fought for our lives in the Straights of Bab Al Mandab. We'd then spent three months replacing sails and making repairs in Aden. I instructed my brother to steer and, at all costs, hold the bows into the sea to use the wind to control the sail. I clipped my dual harness to the webbing life lines and, crouching low, made my way forward against the crashing waves washing down from Sänna's bows. I raised myself onto the bow pushpit and, with my harness straps still secured, tried desperately to turn the sail to furl it. Suddenly, the bows pitched and I flew into the air. I shouted in alarm but, in the wind, Gary had no idea I was in trouble; he hid behind the spray hood whilst concentrating hard on steering Sänna to keep us safe. I flew down over the bows and into the frothing sea...

This was it. I knew there was no way out from this one. The harnesses held me but I was immersed to my chest in the water. The next wave would bring the bows crashing down on to me and force me under. In the few moments when Sänna raised herself on the next towering wave my only thoughts were for my brother and how he would cope alone in these conditions...

Then, I flew into the air as the bows heaved down. Clear of the sea, I hung uselessly on the harness and landed forcibly on the pullpit.... in exactly the same position I'd departed. I grabbed the half furled sail and held tight to regain my nerves. My brother's head appeared around the spray hood and he shouted "Is everything ok?"...

I managed to somehow re-tie the sheet into the headsail clew but we couldn't free the jammed furling line to bring in the sail. Our only option was to turn and run with the wind back to harbour in Aden. With the sheet properly tied we tacked the boat to use the now secured headsail and set a downwind course back to Yemen. In Aden, we'd be able to fix our problems and start again.

I never told Gary I'd been overboard in the sea. The commodore would never be able to look his rear commodore in the eye...
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