CAPSIZE OF NAI'A by Michael Reppy  email:mreppy@tchild.org

There was no doubt in my mind, I was going to get the record! It was day 30 and I only had about 300 miles to go to break the record of 34 days 6 hours. I had been getting pounded the last few days by several low pressure troughs with nasty beam seas and had to run off downwind sometimes with only the jib up. But they had passed and I had smooth sailing in 10-12 knots breezes making a direct course for the finish at Misake. I had put waypoints in the GPS for the approach and finish, and was relaxed and ready to bring NAI'A in. I had visions in my mind of the arrival with meeting my new Japanese environmental friends, press conferences, and talking about freeing the Taiji Five orcas. But the latest weatherfax showed a developing low pressure system labeled "Gale" heading for just off the coast of Tokyo - right in my path! I consulted with my weather router at Bob Rice's Weather Windows, and he confirmed winds could get up to 35-40 knots - not good for a small boat like NAI'A. We decided to divert course to the South and the milder sector of the storm. I would sail a little bit farther, but still had plenty of time. I liked the strategy too because then I could run off back to the North with strong Southwesterly winds and then head into the finish when the storm had passed.

So I bore off to the South in the gentle breeze with full main and masthead spinnaker - the same spinnaker with dolphin graphics that we had up during NAI'A's first capsize in 1992! I was making great time averaging about 9-10 knots, and wanted to take advantage of these perfect conditions as long as possible until the wind built as the storm approached. I had the roller furling genoa tacked on the pole and ready to hoist to replace the spinnaker. NAI'A would surf on the following 2-4' swells up to about 14-15 knots, then settle back down to 8-10 knots. On one surfing run, NAI'A overtook a wave and did a slight stuff with a little water coming over the bow, but I was not concerned, since I had seen this happen many times before, and NAI'A was running deep with the spinnaker poled out to weather, so she was not liable to round up and get over-powered. All seemed well, and I was very pleased with the miles we were rolling up. I went below to lie down and rest, not intending to go to sleep, but I did for about an hour.

I woke up, jolted into awareness that NAI'A was going too fast. "I must get the spinnaker down", I said to myself, but didn't think it was a serious situation, but I did hurry to get on my sailing gear and pull on my boats. Just as I was coming up through the cabin doorway, NAI'A surfed down a wave and I had that unforgettable sight looking straight down on the three bows stuffed into the wave. The wind was probably only about 15-18 knots with 4'- 6' following seas, but NAI'A was probably doing about 20 knots and over-taking the waves when the bows stuck into the back of an especially deep trough. The inevitable pitchpole followed; I instinctively dived back into the cabin, and was thrown forward as she was turned upside-down. I was disoriented and in a panic! Everything in the boat was dumped down and thrown around as the water rose in the cabin. It was total chaos! "Where is the escape hatch?" I groped around in the bottom (formerly top of the cabin) looking for the hatch, then remembered that it would now be up. I looked up and there it was, and opened it. A little relief, from the fear of being trapped as the water rose in the cabin. It only came up to my crotch, but as the boat rocked side to side all the gear and things were thrown violently around in the water. I picked up a few things floating around that I might need, and grabbed my video camera floating in its water-proof case. I talked to myself to try and calm down and think clearly. "Think about survival", I told myself. "don 't think about the capsize".

Preparations for capsize all worked out extremely well. The EPIRB (emergency radio beacon) was right there high and dry tied to a shelf . Right next to it was the water-proof emergency bag with food and water and a hand-held VHF radio. The Survival suit (a heavy-duty rubber suit you get in and zip up to stay dry and warm) was on another shelf. It was obvious that the cabin was too small and wet to stay in, so I went out the hatch and found the liferaft tied in the nets. I cut it loose and inflated it, and tied it to NAI'A. The seas were building, and I felt I'd better get in the raft soon, before it punctured as it bumped up against NAI'A. So I grabbed all the survival equipment and put it in the raft and jumped in and pushed the raft away to the full length of the tether line. Inside the fully enclosed raft, I felt protected and was not cold, but still decided to get in the survival suit to get dry and warm. I tied the EPIRB to the raft, and watched the blinking light showing it was on - now, would it work? Indeed it did!

The Search And Rescue system linked to the EPIRB (personally registered 409 megahertz EPIRB) is very effective and has saved many lives at sea. I still marvel at how fast and co-ordinated the response was for me. I soon heard a plane overhead and shot off a flare; they saw me and dropped a flare nearby. I talked to the men on the plane in English on my handheld VHF radio, and they said a ship would be there in 3 hours to pick me up and that they would stay on the scene until I was rescued. I gave information about the gear I had on board and myself, and even gave them the phone number of my co-ordinator in Sausalito to be called and notified of the rescue underway. We set up a radio check-in schedule as I waited in the raft. This was all very reassuring and helped me not be too distraught about the capsize.

It was dark and the wind and seas had picked up by the time a ship arrived on the scene. It was a huge car carrier named the "Century Highway No.2" returning to Yokohama. The Japanese captain called me on the radio and I shot off a flare and shined a flashlight toward the ship; also the plane overhead dropped flares. They located me and the captain radioed to say they would launch a lifeboat to come pick me up. I was very relieved. I feared that huge ship coming in close for a pick-up. But suddenly, I looked out of the raft and I was right up against the side of the ship, trapped under the flare of the bow. The ship began banging into the raft and against NAI'A as it rocked in the seas. I screamed into the radio, "BACK OFF, BACK OFF, YOU ARE GOING TO CRUSH ME". The captain replied, " I can't hear you, I think your batteries are low". The radio could not transmit to the bridge from under the bows. I was in a panic and thought I would be killed, and kept yelling into the radio. Finally the ship did back away and I tried to calm down.

The ship launched a lifeboat and I saw it coming toward me. One minute I'm afraid I 'll die and the next relieved that rescue is at hand. But the lifeboat stopped and I heard talk in Japanese on the radio with an occasional "engine trouble" in English. I couldn't appreciate the humor in all that at the time. The Japanese have adopted the English words "engine trouble". I waited another hour at least while they worked on the lifeboat engine. Sitting in the raft I went through many emotions and thoughts. I said to myself and God "I don't want to die, I want to live a meaningful life". I would rather sit in the raft all night than the ship try to pick me up if they can't get the lifeboat running. I was still angry and afraid from the ship nearly crushing me to death. I tried meditating and calming down and finding patience and gratitude for them coming to rescue me. It helped.

I heard the sound of a motor coming and looked out to see the lifeboat approaching. It made one pass, but I couldn't reach it. They backed up, and I threw the radio and flashlight down and jumped and rolled into the lifeboat. I grabbed the hands of each of the crew and thanked them profusely. It was a long motor back to the ship in rough seas. We came alongside the ship and they dangled down lines and 2 cables to hoist up the lifeboat. It took at least 15 minutes of trying to hook-up the cables while banging hard against the side of the ship before we were finally hoisted up the 100 feet to the deck. It was during this time I suffered my only injury - some probable cracked ribs from being thrown against a seat in the lifeboat.
 

They took great care of me on board ship. After a hot bath and soup, I sat around with the crew and told my story of trying to set a record and the capsize. They were very interested and understanding. One guy said, "You are born again!" "Yes" I said, "thanks to you!" I tried to sleep, but was too psyched up. They brought me cold beer and I sat up and drank and talked more to the crew. I made phone calls to California.

Over the next two days on the way to Yokohama I got plenty of rest, good food, good company, and began to process all that had happened. I wrote over 35 pages about it all. I drank beer and watched videos with the crew at night. It was like a college fraternity hanging out with the guys. They really helped me get through the initial shock of losing NAI'A. I had nothing but borrowed clothes on my back and my dark glasses and my Henri Lloyd sailing gear in a bag when we arrived at the Nissan dock in Yokohama.