Sea Stories: Flotsam and Jetsam

In Maritime Law, flotsam and jetsam have specific, legal meanings. To the lay sailor, however, those terms are generic for "stuff" (potential treasures) floating in the sea or washed up onshore. A day or so after our Cuban adventure, Ariel's screw started smoking and then stopped. Mac decided to take us in shallow and anchor off one of the little coral islets that was poking up out of the water. Under sail and with me as bow watch, we navigated through some reefs and dropped the hook. Mac suggested we check on the screw, then swim to the land mass and look for possible treasures brought ashore by Gilbert.

Mac and I dove off the swim platform at Ariel's stern to look at the screw. Apparently, when we left the Cuban ship we took some of her cheap plastic line with us and it wound itself around the screw shaft and hub. The longer the screw turned while motoring, the more friction built up and eventually melted the line and stopped the screw turning. The fix was simple enough; we would take turns swimming under and cutting at the plastic blob attached to the screw. Of course, nothing is as easy as you think it will be when it comes to a boat and being at sea. When we first jumped in the water we both came out saying "What the hell!?, Ouch, Dammit!" When I put my face mask half-way in the water I could see the forest. We had landed in what appeared to be a jelly bloom and were surrounded by thousands of tiny, almost clear, mildly stinging jellies (or some gelatinous critter). They were not dangerous, only annoying and, well, they were just, there. Trying to push the water away only brought others towards us. These little ones (juveniles?) were drifting on the current and we would just have to work around them. So, one at a time, Mac and I went into the water, got as low as we could to avoid the bloom and cut on the melted line. It took only a few tries for each of us and then Ariel's screw was free.

Now it was time to play. Mac and I started to don our snorkeling gear when Dean flat out said he wasn't going. When I said I didn't think anyone really needed to guard the boat, Mac just started laughing and said that Dean really didn't like getting in the water. Excuse me? You have worked as a merchant seaman most of your life and you don't like the water? Did I miss something? Dean patiently explained that he usually worked very large ships and that he had gone days without even seeing the ocean if he chose to do so; getting in it wasn't so much a priority. Ahh, but we were prepared for (most) eventuality and it turned out that the man who had traded Ariel to Dad left her with a...well...for lack of a better term...giant, inflatable banana. I guess this thing was meant to tow people behind a motor boat, sort of a kinder, gentler, jet ski? Anyway, we inflated it, threw it overboard, Dean climbed on top of it, Mac gave him a paddle and he was off. Unfortunately Dean didn't seem to quite be able to tame the ungainly thing and he kept drifting away from Ariel and the islet. Mac (between chortles) kept telling him to get it together and Dean answered him with creative curses. Finally, Mac decided that Dean just couldn't wrangle that giant, mutant floating banana so he decided to swim after him.

Great Barracuda-uncredited photo

As Mac was donning his face mask and fins we noticed a visitor lurking just off the end of the swim platform. The Great Barracuda is the largest of 20+ species in the world and can get up to six feet in length. While sometimes seen in groups, we only saw them on that trip as solitary visitors. Barracuda are bold and inquisitive and they can be unnerving in that they often follow divers and snorkelers. While they have a snaggle-toothed and fierce expression, they are mostly non-aggressive to humans, unless they are harassed. Well, harassment is in the eye of the beholder, so Mac asked me to put on my yellow-tipped swim fin, put my foot in the water near the 'cuda and distract him while Mac entered the water. For good measure, Mac took his Hawaiian sling spear with him just in case the 'cuda got too nosy. Mac then started swimming towards Dean.

The Caribbean is a strange place. So often, things are not as they seem and that being my first trip, it constantly surprised me. When I put my swim fin in the water and wiggled it a bit, the barracuda backed off and almost as suddenly a small bird landed on my shoulder (I can't make this stuff up). I don't know if it was because being so far away from people it didn't know any better or because being so far from anywhere it was taking what rest it could get, but this little thing landed on me and completely took my attention as it wandered around my arms, down to my hand and up again.

Something, however brought me back from my reverie. I looked down and the curious 'cuda was right at the tip of my flipper and when I looked out I could see Dean continue to drift out to sea. His banana was no longer giant, from my perspective. The question was, where the hell was Mac?! I jumped up and started to scan the water when I saw, in the completely opposite direction from Dean, Ariel and the islet, something desperately disturbing the water. It was Mac and I stood there for a moment not believing what I thought I was seeing. My father was a strong swimmer and very savvy of the sea. Could he be drowning? He went under and that was my answer. The current had proven to be much more then either men had thought. We hadn't noticed it while dealing with the screw because we held on to the boat the entire time.

Now, in an attempt to be really honest with myself and the reader, I will tell you that I hesitated. I have said before that my relationship with my father had darkness to it. Well, I thought for a nanosecond that I could probably get the boat back to Florida on my own. That thought, however, was immediately overpowered by my own voice saying, not in whisper, "Oh no you don't! You son-of-a-bitch, I just found you  and you are not leaving me again-not like this!" And then action took over. Remember how I mentioned earlier that Mac didn't show me how to deal with Ariel and all her idiosyncrasies and challenges? Well, I watched and listened anyway, so I knew that the electrical system was crap and so I needed to get down below and start the generator before I tried to start her engine or use the anchor windlass. I knew how to start the generator because I learned from my grandfather. I knew how to operate the anchor windlass because I had watched Mac and Dean do it (all I had ever used were not motorized) and I knew how to maneuver her because I have a cousin who sails often, I'd sailed the coast of Baja in winter and because-yup-I had watched Mac.

So, I pulled off the flipper, put the bird on a stanchion, went below, kicked on the gen, came back up, started the engine and the anchor windlass (I honestly don't remember if the windlass control was above deck or below). There was no finesse in how I raised her anchor. Mac had set her well in the coral but instead of easing Ariel and jimmying the hook loose, I just raised her up and moved Ariel forward. As soon as the hook cleared the water I swung the 52 ft boat around and went after Mac. By now I could barely see him; only the water he was trying to fight and his flailing arms. I went recklessly through the reefs (I heard some grinding a couple of times and hoped that was me damaging the coral instead of vice-versa) and came up beside Mac down current of him so he would drift right into the boat. I put the engine in neutral and went to the swim platform. Mac was under the water. He had dropped his spear early in his fight with the current. I knelt down, reached in and grabbed his arm. I pulled him up onto the platform and asked if he was ok. He couldn't answer as we was too busy throwing up seawater. I told him to stay put and I went to get Dean who had by now fallen (jumped?) off the banana and was frantically trying to swim to the boat. I missed moving Ariel down current of him so I put the engine in neutral, grabbed my one fin and a line and jumped over the side after him. He grabbed the line, said "I'm OK, I'm OK" so I grabbed the banana. We climbed aboard and found Mac had made his way to the deck and was still emptying the seawater from his lungs. We dropped the hook right there and I powered down Ariel. Both men needed some time to themselves. Dean went to the bow and Mac was towards the stern so I went down below and got Mac some fresh water to help ease the burning in his throat and then I made spaghetti. Hey! The adrenaline was pumping at this point! I thought about diving in to check on Ariel's hull but didn't think going in the water would go over well with the others at this point. I had to do something and it had originally been my dinner night anyway.

After the incident-birdie comes to dinner (see, the spaghetti?).

Mac hoarsely called me up to the cockpit before dinner was ready. He looked like himself again, if somewhat exhausted. He looked me dead in the eye and said "Thanks, Kid."  I know it sounds trite now, but it was pretty amazing for me. Then he said he thought he was a goner especially because I didn't know how to run the boat (ahem). I assured him that I had paid attention and that from now on I would like to be crew, not just passenger, on the trip. He readily agreed. I went down and brought up the pot of spaghetti. Dean came back and didn't say a word for the longest time. I just looked at Mac and started to dish up pasta when Dean finally said, "Thank you." Dean confessed that he had been up at the bow crying; he was sure he was lost that day too. The silence was suddenly very awkward. Thank goodness my little avian friend showed up and joined us for dinner! We decided to stay in that spot for the night and head out again the next morning.

The rest of the trip to the USVI was relatively uneventful. We had some interesting moments, for sure: stopped in Great Inaugua (Bahamanian island known for salt production and flamingos) for engine repairs,  and raced a hurricane past Puerto Rico. We had some moments in the USVI as well (did you know that the anchor will ONLY let go in the middle of the night when it is windy as hell and your only 100 yards from shore, that sea urchins will chase you and that giant cockroaches can swim?) but nothing would be as dramatic or affecting as that day near that tiny coral island.

We never did go to the islet looking for flotsam and jetsam. I figured I had brought my own on board anyway ;)

Post Script: I never knew my father to be at all sentimental and I was never sure he had really ever told this story to anyone. Last year, though, my brother told me that Mac had told the story over the years and had seemed outwardly proud whenever he did. That knowledge makes me happy.