Survivors of the sea
| • | Safety measures can lessen dangers |
By Michael Tsai
Advertiser Staff Writer
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| Bob Ward reflects at Kewalo Basin, where he once moored a fishing boat. Ward lost the boat and two buddies when they were all caught out by Hurricane Iniki in 1992.
Eugene Tanner • The Honolulu Advertiser |
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| A paramedic, left, examines kayaker Jonathan Stockton of Arizona, who was rescued at sea, at Kona International Airport.
Advertiser library photo • July 30, 2002 |
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| The Coast Guard, shown here practicing, has saved 165 lives and more than $1.45 million in property this fiscal year.
U.S. Coast Guard |
Rising to the top of the 40-foot waves, he could feel the hurricane-force winds buffeting the back of his head with the stinging buckshot of horizontal rain. Yet, falling into the alley-sized troughs in between meant taking a deep breath and waiting to be flushed into the dark, churning depths.
"After about 20 minutes of this, I thought to myself, '(expletive), I'm not going to make it,' " Ward said.
Ward was 51 years old and already losing his sight to a degenerative disease when he and two friends found themselves in the worst place at the worst time: miles from shore and helpless in the path of Iniki, the 1992 hurricane that would damage the leeward shore of O'ahu and devastate much of Kaua'i.
Despite his dire prediction, Ward did indeed survive, even as his two friends were lost forever to the sea.
Twelve years later, after the disappearance of two more fishermen in separate incidents, Ward and other survivors of the sea are sharing their stories and calling on boaters to make safety their priority.
"There are no guarantees out there," Ward said. "You just do what you can and be prepared to survive by your bare teeth."
'Only God knew where I was'
Ward, a Nu'uanu resident, and fishing companions Masa Hatanaka and Nobuo Saito had been out to sea for a week when a weather fax came in, showing the hurricane veering in their direction.
"Masa had been tracking it," Ward said. "It was south of us and heading west. We thought it was going to pass us by, but then it just changed direction."
Hatanaka was able to contact his wife, who informed him that all ports had been closed. The three would somehow have to ride out the storm.
The crew raced to secure the boat as best they could. Within a couple of hours, the winds had picked up to 122 knots (140 mph) and were furiously rocking the boat.
The hurricane upon them, the three struggled for two hours trying to keep the main engine and generator working, then uselessly bailing out water by hand and pan when the engine died.
The rushing water drowned the battery-operated equipment, and the screaming winds carried away the boat's life raft. Forced to abandon the boat as it collapsed sideways, Ward made a desperate swim for a brine tank that had been dislodged and was floating nearby.
Ward made it to the tank and held on as best he could. Joining him in the water, Saito floated nearby on a surfboard that had been stored on the boat. Hatanaka jumped in too, keeping one hand on the tank and the other on Saito's shoulder. And, then, suddenly, the winds died.
They were in the eye of the storm.
Ward said Hatanaka and Saito swam back to the boat, probably to retrieve two life vests that had been tied to the deck. They made it to the deck and beckoned Ward to join them, but Ward couldn't maneuver the tank and wasn't willing to let go.
"I knew you're supposed to stay with your vessel in an emergency, but I knew there were only two life jackets on the boat," he said. "The two of them were there, and I was on the tank. There really wasn't any decision. If I let go, I was a goner."
Ward looked at his two friends standing on the boat and the winds picked up again, pulling him farther and farther away. It was the last time he ever saw them.
Already exhausted from trying to keep the boat running, Ward now had to contend with an ocean gone mad. For two hours, he desperately held onto a cord attached to the brine tank as waves the size of buildings rose and fell around him.
"The wind was deafening," he said.
Eventually the wind passed, and the sea quieted to a rough but manageable chop. But Ward's ordeal was just beginning.
For the next 18 hours, Ward fought hypothermia, dehydration and hallucinations as he clung to the tank.
"At one point, I saw clean, dry clothes that someone had laid out for me," he said. "Every hallucination I had was trying to get me to let go of the tank."
The cord cut one of Ward's fingers to the tendon, but he wouldn't let go. Under the light of a full moon, he kicked toward land knowing he'd never make it, but also knowing that he had to keep moving to stay warm. He ignored the sharks he saw passing beneath him.
"The only thing that really got me was the loneliness," Ward said. "It was terrifying, being out there all alone in the sea at night. Only God knew where I was."
Ward figures he probably had a half-hour left in him when a search helicopter finally spotted him among the debris of the boat the next day. He later learned that the EPIRB (Emergency Position Indicating Radio Beacon) that had been blown from his grasp as he left the boat had floated nearby, emitting a weak signal that helped his rescuers determine his approximate position.
Ward said there were several things he and his friends could have done to avoid the deadly situation.
If they had turned back when the ice they used to store fish had melted, he said, they would have been ashore before the hurricane changed direction.
"Greed kills," Ward said. "We should have turned back, but the fish were hitting like crazy, so we stayed longer than we should have."
More than that, Ward said, they should have done a better job tracking the storm.
"More than anything, you have to watch the weather and make sure there are no storms brewing," he said.
'How much would you pay?'
A quarter-century of sailing experience and a stint in the Navy didn't prevent Kailua resident Rick Shema from getting into trouble during a trip across the Moloka'i Channel five years ago. It did help him, his wife Tamlyn (another seasoned sailor), and their dog Scottie to survive the experience.
The Shemas were roughly 10 miles from Makapu'u Point when their 33-foot sloop began rapidly taking on water.
Rick Shema was the first to notice the helm getting sluggish and the boat itself slipping to leeward. Water was quickly entering the cabin, flooding the battery compartment.
As his wife steered the sailboat, heading downwind to keep it level, Shema managed to make a mayday call to the Coast Guard on a VHF radio.
"I knew I had to call before the batteries were rendered useless," he said.
The Shemas and their dog jumped in the water just before the boat capsized, revealing a hole where the keel should have been. Donning life jackets, they attempted to get back to the boat to make themselves less vulnerable to sharks, but were prevented by wind and waves.
Away from the boat, they presented an extremely difficult-to-discern target for their would-be rescuers. A search helicopter passed overhead repeatedly, unable to see the three figures bobbing in the 10-foot swells.
Shema attempted to light a couple of flares, but they didn't work. Finally, one of the rescuers spotted their waving arms.
The Shemas did almost everything right. They were fully equipped with charts, an EPIRB, fixed and hand-held VHF radios, fixed and hand-held GPS units, various signaling devices, full water and fuel tanks, and an inflatable dingy. They filed a float plan and inspected their boat thoroughly before setting off.
Still, the ocean is a tremendously dynamic environment, and unexpected problems are bound to arise from time to time. The key, Shema said, is understanding the risks and doing whatever is necessary to minimize them.
Shema, who recently started a subcommittee on safety with the nonprofit Hawaii Ocean Safety Team, emphasized the importance of investing in a full set of safety gear.
"People don't get them because, well, they're expensive," Shema said. "But how much would you pay to have a radio with you when you're in the water in the dark? A couple hundred? A couple hundred thousand?
"If you aren't willing to spend money on equipment you need to survive an accident, you shouldn't be out there," Shema said.
Still, just having the gear isn't enough. "We had every kind of safety device known to man. They just weren't well placed and ready to go," Shema said.
Shema suggests putting all the essential hand-held gear — including VHF radio and signaling devices — in a "ditch sack" stored in an easily accessible spot.
"That way you have everything you need in one grab," he said.
Along the same lines, Shema said, everyone aboard a boat should know the proper procedures for handling equipment and responding to emergencies.
'Sheer determination to live'
Like Rick and Tamlyn Shema, Jonathan Stockton took to Hawaiian waters with a wealth of experience. Just not the right kind of experience.
The former Big Island resident turned Arizona youth pastor was a professional white-water kayaker, but he was relatively unfamiliar with the Hawaiian ocean environment when he set out two years ago on a solo kayak trip along 70 miles of Big Island coastline.
Things went well for the first three days, but then a storm on the other side of the island jumped the northern point and fell upon Stockton in an ambush of high winds and rain. Half a mile offshore, Stockton's high-performance kayak capsized over and over again, as many as 30 times during the course of the storm.
"I knew from the start that it was really bad," he said. "It was all I could do to hold on."
By the time the storm subsided, Stockton had drifted 35 miles from shore. He attempted to paddle back toward land but was too exhausted. Deeply fatigued after more than 20 hours of effort, Stockton fell asleep and drifted farther out.
"I lost everything in the storm," Stockton said. "All of my food had been lost or spoiled by the seawater. I had a little beef jerky that I tried to eat, but I threw it up."
Stockton still had his mobile phone, which he used to call 911. He was able to communicate a few key details before the signal died. That was enough to get the Coast Guard started on a massive search-and-rescue effort.
Stockton said he saw planes fly past him numerous times, but he was too small on the ocean's surface for them to see him. It would be five delirious, agonizing days from the day of the storm to until rescuers from a Coast Guard C-130 finally spotted Stockton.
Deeply religious, Stockton said he used prayer to overcome his moments of panic. His faith, he said, sustained him as he floated helpless beneath the burning sun.
Of course, when Stockton returns to the Big Island next month for another go at the coastline, he'll do so with a heightened sense of earthly concerns. He said he plans to bring better safety equipment, check the weather regularly, and be accompanied by a friend in a motor boat just in case.
"No one would ever forgive me if I got in trouble again," he said.
Reach Michael Tsai at 535-2461 or mtsai@honoluluadvertiser.com.
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Safety measures can lessen dangers
| • | National Statistics
700 — Boating accidents each year 900 — Boats involved in accidents 1,000 — Deaths from boating accidents $25 million — Estimated property damage from boating accidents Source: Coast Guard and state Department of Land and Natural Resources, Division of Boating and Ocean Recreation. Resources Joint Rescue Coordination Center 24-Hour Line: 541-2500 14th District Coast Guard Auxiliary boating education courses: 247-3793 or 541-2087 State Department of Land and Natural Resources, Division of Boating and Ocean Recreation, "Boating In Hawaii" Web site. |
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The Coast Guard has saved 165 lives and more than $1.45 million in property this fiscal year, which has two months remaining.
And yet, despite the Coast Guards' considerable investments of manpower, technology and expertise, boaters continue to lose their lives in Hawaiian waters every year, in part because of poor planning, lack of awareness about safety procedures, insufficient equipment and other factors.
While no one knows the circumstances surrounding the disappearances of fishermen Roy Takatsuki and Richard Shiroma in separate incidents last month, Coast Guard Lt. Cmdr. Todd Offutt said their cases should serve as a reminder that there is much boaters can do to mitigate dangers.
Here are four things Offutt said every boater should keep in mind:
Life jackets save lives: "A lot of people don't like how bulky the old life jackets were. But the new occupational models are sleek and inflatable. You can wear them without them getting in the way."
Take the 'search' out of 'search and rescue': "If all we had to do was go out and get them, people wouldn't be out there floating for days. An EPIRB (Emergency Position Indicating Radio Beacon) is about the size of a Big Gulp, and it will automatically start signaling if the boat turns over."
Experience: "You can be an experienced sailor, but if you aren't familiar with Hawaiian waters, you can still be caught off guard. The currents go every which way, and it can get very windy. The best thing to do if you aren't familiar with the environment, or even if you are, is to take one of the safety courses from the Coast Guard Auxiliary."
Preparedness: "Follow your float plan. Get the right kind of equipment, and know where it is when you need it. Make sure you have a VHF radio and not just a cell phone. We can't vector in on a cell phone."
