"Well, that doesn't look good," I muttered to myself as I watched
storm clouds brewing in the western sky. They were getting darker and
angrier by the second, and I could see bright flashes of lightning bouncing
like a rubber ball between them.
Regardless, I wasn't too concerned with the incoming storm. I'd been
sailing for as long as I could remember, and my mom often told anyone
who would listen that I was born with sea legs and the ability to outswim
most fish. I was also confident I was in safe hands with The Celeste, my
grandfather's cherished sailboat.
He'd named it after my grandmother, and much like her, it was a
strong and sturdy gal who didn't back down from anything. Still, I thought
it would be a good idea to drop the regular sails and ready my storm sails.
My grandfather had kept a well-organized vessel, and I wasn't about to let
that go to the wayside when I inherited the boat. The trysail and jib were
exactly where they should be and in impeccable shape, just the way
Grandpa Benji would have left them.
As I was setting the storm jib just forward of the mast, I took another
look at the approaching storm. It had tripled in size in the past ten minutes,
and my concern grew to match it. It wasn't unusual to have a pop-up storm happen in the Bahamas, but one of this magnitude without warning was
really unheard of.
Once I got the jib in place, I headed to the hull to check on any radio
signals coming in. The storm had reared its ugly head between me and the
next destination on my island-hopping vacation, so I also needed to check
my map for the next best alternative destination that wasn't going to take
me through the middle of this bitch of a storm.
After reaching the hull, I flipped on the radio and turned it up as loud
as it would go so I could hear it clearly over the increasing volume of the
storm. It had grown exponentially darker in the few minutes I'd been inside,
so I lit a nearby lantern to help me see. Then I held the map up to get a
better look at the path through the Bahamas I'd set for myself.
I'd planned on sailing to the Bimini Islands next, but in current
conditions, that would likely be suicide. So, I decided to divert to Andros,
which would take me south of the storm. It wasn't what I'd planned. I'd
been there several times, and this trip was to focus on the smaller islands I
hadn't deeply explored in the past.
"Just my damn luck" I mumbled to myself, right as an urgent voice
came screeching out over the radio.
"Mayday! Mayday! Mayday!" squawked the female voice. "This is
The Lone Wolf, I repeat this is The Lone Wolf, Mayday!"
I reached over and snatched up the receiver.
"Copy, Lone Wolf, this is The Celeste, and I hear you loud and clear.
What's the emergency and your coordinates?"
I kept my voice as calm as possible, even though my heart was
hammering in my chest. This woman sounded terrified, and I didn't want to
make it even worse by allowing my own fear to creep into my voice.
"We are taking on water really fucking fast!" she screamed
"My kids are on this boat with me. My kids and my mom. That's it.
This shit wasn't supposed to happen!"
Well, no wonder my calm voice had zero effect on her.
"Ma'am, I can't be too far away if I am picking up your signal. Can
you give me your coordinates?"
"If the goddamn thing will stop jumping all over the place!" she
shouted before her voice was drowned out by a clap of thunder.
"You've got this," I encouraged her as my own boat continued to bob
with the increasingly rough waves. "Just take a deep breath and give me the
best reading you can."
"Okay, okay," she repeated, mostly to herself, "I can do this The best
I can give you is 25.974591, -78.544951."
"You are a little over a mile west of me," I replied after a quick
glance at my equipment. "I am on my way. Get your family to the highest
point of your boat. Make sure everyone has their life jackets on and that
they are secure. How old are your kids?"
I wanted to keep her talking and calm, but I also needed all the
information I could get if I was going to attempt this rescue on my own.
"Jack is eleven and Maya is eight," she said, and her voice was much
steadier than it had been in the past thirty seconds.
I sighed a breath of relief since I wasn't going to have to try to rescue
a toddler or infant. These kids could listen and follow directions, and that
would make this endeavor a lot easier to accomplish.
"Alright, keep them close to you and keep broadcasting your distress
signal," I instructed. "Make sure you have your fog lights turned on. I will
sound my horn when I get close to let you know I am there, just in case you
can't see me through the storm."
"Wait, don't leave me!" she screamed as all rational thought vanished
once again.
"Ma'am--"
"My name is Jess," she cut me off. "Jess Martin."
"Nice to meet you, Jess," I replied gently. "My name is Ben
Whitfield. Now, I can't stay on the radio and sail to you at the same time. I
will find you. You have to trust me on that. Keep sending out your signal,
the more help the better. You can do this."
"Okay. Yes. I can do this." She paused, and I pictured her clutching
her own receiver somewhere out there in the dark storm. "Thank you, Ben!
I will make sure to do what you said. But please, hurry."
"I am on my way."
I hung up the radio and steeled myself to do what had to be done.
I knew it was absolutely crazy for me to steer my boat into that
storm, but I couldn't leave a mother and her kids out there. I was trained in
the Coast Guard as a rescue swimmer, and the ten years I spent in there had
taught me very well how to do exactly what I was about to do.
This was just another mission I refused to fail. I would get all four of
those people on my boat and to safety. There was no alternative in my book.
I flipped the motor on and double-checked to make sure the storm
sails were in place. I didn't need them yet, but if this storm started blowing
me way off course and beyond my control, I was going to have to use them.