Yachting USA — March 2018

EDITOR’S LETTER

1 2 YACHTING MARCH 2018

tom serio

RADIO TO THE RESCUE

I

t was late summer, 2004. the weather was deteriorating quickly.

Gray skies turned inky-black, and soon the wind switched from a moderate blow to an

ominous torrent. Drops fell hard and fast. Our fi ve-man crew couldn’t see more than

10 yards forward of, or abaft, the boat. Lightning fl ashed with a cadence that seemed

to match the falling rain’s. It was the beginning of a tumultuous week that would end

with a hurricane skirting the coast.

Our crew sat on the bridge deck, peering through the downpour, trying to spot nearby

vessels that blended into the sea of red that was our radar display. We picked our way

through the tempest. Shortly after the lightning intensifi ed in our area, we heard a crackling

voice on the radio calling a pan-pan. At fi rst, the words were tough to make out. The voice

seemed distant. We listened intently, and after a few minutes we heard the captain state

that his craft had been hit by lightning. His boat was dead in the water.

Everyone on board was safe, but the brand-new mid-30-foot convertible had lost its

motors and all electronics, and was communicating via handheld VHF radio. We made

contact to get a handle on the boat’s location and render assistance, but a second vessel’s

skipper chimed in that he was on scene. He towed the damaged vessel nearly 60 nautical miles

back to the dock. It was the fi rst time I witnessed a handheld VHF radio help save the day.

In 2007, a second instance occured. Once again, the weather off shore was cool and wet.

It was late afternoon. We heard a captain call out that his boat had lost all power. This

time, we were the closest vessel. We made a beeline and found the 21-foot center console

drifting not toward our home base of New York, but toward the Azores. We took the two-

man crew on board our 43-footer. They had spent several hours wet and cold, and were a

bit underdressed for it. We towed their boat for three hours toward their home port until

a Sea Tow boat met us and took them the rest of the way. Two weeks later, a thank-you

bottle of Champagne arrived at our captain’s home.

While some people may call it overkill, when our crew leaves the slip, we carry no fewer

than three ready-to-go handheld VHF radios. And now you know why.

WE LISTENED INTENTLY, AND AFTER A FEW

MINUTES WE HEARD THE CAPTAIN STATE THAT

HIS CRAFT HAD BEEN HIT BY LIGHTNING.

patrick sciacca

Editor-in-Chief

[email protected]