Rescue at SeaThursday, April 5, 2012; Somewhere on the Inter-coastal Waterway just south of Cape Canaveral.--- The day was overcast mostly, but by afternoon had turned mostly sunny. Winds were 15 to 20 with occasional sustained winds in the 25 to 30 mile per hour range. We were flying the 150 genoa and cruising along at over eight knots with an occasional spike to 9.3. It was a terrific ride and we were ticking off the miles in rapid succession.
We had picked out two possible anchorages for the night. It meant we would be sailing later than normal…probably dropping the hook around 7pm; late on the ICW. It’s not advisable to sail past sunset on the ICW.
I had been at the helm for several hours and decided to take a break and asked my friend Charlie who is accompanying me for part of the journey, to take over.
Up ahead I saw a girl on a jet ski. She was standing up and waving her arms. It appeared her jet ski wouldn’t start. I told Charlie to slow down and sail closer to her. I walked up on the side of the deck and yelled through the strong wind what was wrong? “Is there anyone you want me to call”? I asked. Her answer was unintelligible. She seemed confused. We sailed out of ear shot.
I walked back to the cockpit and told Charlie we couldn’t leave her and we had to go back. As Charlie drove I pulled in the genoa sail and we began to make our turn. She surely must have thought we were going to continue on without stopping.
As we approached I told Charlie to be careful not to drift into her with the strong winds and currents. He did an excellent job of getting us near to her. But wait, she wasn’t on the Jet Ski any longer. It was a man. Where was she? Then I saw her struggling to hold onto the side of the Jet Ski and going underwater than up again. There are two of them.
Both were confused and didn’t have a good idea of where they were, where they launched the jet ski from only that it was a park and something about the kill switch. We learned later they were from Atlanta and visiting a sister and didn’t know the area at all. I also learned later they lost the kill switch to the Jet Ski and that is why it shut down and couldn’t be re-started. The man yelled that he was a cop. They were unsure of what to do or what they wanted us to do. The rear half of the Jet Ski was sinking and under water. Slowly the contraption began to tip and the man went over and under water. Thank God both had life jackets on.
Up to this point I thought the major problem facing us was getting help to them to get them and the Jet Ski back to shore. That however turned out to be not the imminent danger. I dialed 911 and told them the situation and that we needed assistance. The 911 operator began asking me a bunch of questions, one of which was, “are the two people in distress”? It was then, as I watched them continue to go under, try to hang on to the sinking Jet Ski, seeing both exhaustion and fear that I realized the gravity of the situation. “Yes”, I said, “both are in distress….I gotta go”, I said and hung up.
While Charlie maneuvered the boat down- wind of them to lessen the chance of drifting into them with the strong winds I untied a stern line and threw it to them. The man caught the line but didn’t seem to know what to do with it. “Tie it onto the ring in front of the Jet Ski”, I yelled. While he did this, the woman began to pull herself towards Elysium by hanging onto the line I had just tossed. She made it to the boat and put both feet on the side of the boat while holding the line and was now almost laying down on the water.
The freeboard on Elysium is very high (the boat sits high out of the water). We have no ladder to put over the side of the boat and I didn’t feel we had time to drop the dinghy off the back davits and try to pull her onto the swim platform.
She continued to struggle with trying to stay above water. I glanced at the man and he too was having difficulty holding onto the Jet Ski.
I ran to the front of the boat and grabbed a line that I knew had a loop in one end. Coming back to the cockpit I opened the side gate on the lifelines and lowered the line to her. “Grab this line, I’ll hold onto it”, I instructed her. “Let go of the first line and grab this one”, I said again. She grabbed the line and I pulled her away from the stern. “Put your foot in the loop on the end”, I told her. She struggled to get her foot in the loop and went under water once or twice. “Get the loop in the middle of your foot”, I said. While she did this I wrapped the other end of the line around the genoa winch in the cockpit. “Do you see what we’re going to do”, I asked her. I didn’t give her a chance to answer. I started cranking on the winch and telling her at the same time “try to straighten your leg…keep your leg stiff”. She understood. Slowly I cranked until her hand could reach the top of the boat. I grabbed her wet, cold hand hard trying to not let her slip back in. She reached up with her other hand and grabbed a lifeline. I pulled as she climbed between the two lifelines and into the cockpit. I moved her behind me to the other side of the cockpit so I could now focus on the man.
“O.K. buddy, your turn”. He was in the water with part of his upper body on the back of the Jet Ski. He didn’t respond. “Come on buddy, let go and come over here”, I said again. He seemed to be talking to himself and ignoring me. I was now afraid he was going into some type of shock.
“John”, the woman shouted, “let go and come over”. Hearing his name jolted him and he slid off the Jet Ski, made his way to the front of it and grabbed the line tied to the boat. He pulled himself along as the woman did. He went under again, a couple times. “Cramp. “Cramp”, he shouted. “Put your foot in the loop John”, I told him. He struggled a bit. I gave him the same instructions I had given her. Slowly I began winching him up. He said something about being too tired but I ignored him and just kept coaxing him, “reach”, I told him, “reach”. The cramp in his leg was killing him but I saw him gather all his strength to reach. I grabbed his hand with both my hands. With his other hand he grabbed the lifeline. I pulled, he pulled and finally managed to get a knee on the edge of the boat. I was afraid he was going to fall backwards into the water. With one knee on, he brought the other up and squeezed between the two lifelines. He couldn’t move for about fifteen minutes. He just kneeled on the edge of the boat, thankful to be out of the water.

All of this took about 45 minutes. I won’t go into the details of the next two hours. It was a circus dealing with the authorities. Both the Cape Canaveral and County Sheriffs Department were calling multiple times to ask numerous questions. We were told more than once that rescue was on its way, both from the fire department and sheriffs department. They couldn’t find us. We gave them our latitude and longitutde several times. We told them we were about a mile past the bridge where a huge accident occurred a couple hours earlier, and they still couldn’t find us. On one call back they asked ; “was that the accident that occurred today on the bridge or yesterday on the bridge”?
Finally, a Coast Guard vessel arrives (now well past two hours since my first call to 911) and sits off our beam (side of the boat) for 20 minutes while they talked on the telephone to a superior. They then moved over to the Jet Ski to inspect it. “Captain”, they called out”, “can you turn your boat so we can get a better look at the Jet Ski”? they asked. “Are you kidding me”, I said. “Do you know the radius this boat makes”. I answered. “Ah, Roger that Captain”.
Finally a Sheriffs deputy showed up also. Of course the first thing he does is pull up to the Coasties and discuss the situation with them for a while. At last they reveal their plan. The Coast Guard pulls along side Elysium to take John and Lisa off Elysium. I take Lisa’s hand and help her step to the side of Elysium and down onto the Coast Guard Boat. John steps out onto the side following Lisa. He shakes my hand and gives me a manly hug and says “thank you, I don’t know what we would have done if you hadn’t come along”. All I could think to say was “no problem”.
We set our course and hoisted the genoa and did the only logical thing we could think of. Open a couple of beers and continue on our way.
Post Script: I want it to be known, in posting this blog, I write it only for my own recollection and memory and to share the story with my loved ones. I do not write it out of pride. There is nothing to be prideful of. We did what anyone would have done; what we are all supposed to do; I just happen to come along and be the one this time.