Boat International US Edition – June 2019

ILLUSTRATION Natasha Law

OWNERS’ CLUB

Darling on Deck

There’s an art to towing a tender in choppy waters.

KristinDucotewoulddrinktothat...butpiratesstoleherrosŽ

thappenedinlessthanfiveseconds.Twentymiles

offthecoastofNassau,wewerecruisingtoward

Gilligan’sIslandforsunsetcocktails.Afternoon

sunshinerefractedthroughthepatchworkclouds,

droppingcolumnsoflightonthechoppywateraroundourbow.

Welayonthesundeckofourfriend’s95ftSunseeker,enjoying

theslightlycoolerweatherofacloudyJuneday.

“Yousureyourcaptainknowshowtotowacenterconsole?”

Myhusband,Chapman,rosefromhischairtolookdownat

thenew26ftcenterconsolethatbumpedalongbehindus.The

waterwasrough,thewaveperioddisorganized,andthecenter

consoledippedanddivedprecariouslythroughthechop.Now

therestofusstood,liftingsunglassesforabetterlook.

“HeyCap,maybeyou

shouldletoutmorelineon

yourtowbridle,”Chapman

called to the captain,

who was manning the

flybridgehelmabout20ft

away.Thecaptainjogged

totherailingforapeekat

thetender.Eachtimeit

skippedoverourwake,its

bowslippedbelowthesurfaceandtookonalittlemorewater.

“Agreed,”thecaptainsaid.Backatthehelm,heradioedthe

firstmatetoaddlinewhilehethrottledback.Weslowedand

begantorockintheswell,asdidthesmallerboatbehindus.

“Allset,”thefirstmateradioed.“Takeslack!Takeslack!”The

captainnoddedandhitthethrottles.Buttoofast!

Theextralengthoflinewrappedaroundoneoftheoutboard

propellers.Inaninstant,theshinynewtenderspunlikearecord.

Wewatchedinhorrorasitjerkedbackwards.Itwasbeingtowed

thewrongway!Inlessthanfiveseconds,thewakeofour

accelerationswampedtheboatanditcapsized.Foramoment,

I

everyone froze. Then total pandemonium ensued. Shouting

filled the radio waves. With a cry of disbelief, my friend dropped

her drink and ice skittered across the deck. Her husband

screamed a rather uncreative expletive as he leapt on to a chair,

hands in his hair. The captain dropped the boat to neutral and

sprinted to the railing just as the tender sank below the waves.

“Mark this spot on the GPS,” Chapman ordered. Without

a moment’s hesitation, he stepped over the railing and swan

dove off the boat.

“Man overboard!” the captain yelled. “What the heck is that

guy doing?” All eyes turned to me, and I just shrugged. Who

knew what type of MacGyver jerry-rig Chapman was planning

to save the day this time? In a surreal blur, we raced down to the

swim platform. Chapman finally resurfaced minutes later and

out of breath, but with a smile. “Don’t worry,” he called. “I

wrangled the anchor out of its locker and set it.”

“Who cares about the anchor?” I asked. “The boat’s sunk!”

“We want this baby in the same place tomorrow so we can

salvage the hull.”

“Forget the hull,” my friend called. “Every bottle of Domaines

Ott we had was chilling in its live well for our sunset drinks!”

Next morning, embarking on a rosé rescue mission, we

returned to that waypoint with a salvage crew. And the tender

was still there! My friend and I did a happy dance, that is, until

it surfaced and we got a good look. Unbelievably, someone else

had found it first. Every item of fishing and diving gear was gone.

We flipped open the live well and alas, it was empty. Talk about

shipwrecked treasure! Some pirate was undoubtedly planning

quite a party with our pink loot.

Towing a center console is a tricky business. It’s one thing to

grasp the general mechanics, the geometry of bridle angle and

line length. It’s quite another to negotiate the infinite variables

of rough seas. When it comes to towing a tender, you justnever

know. So my advice? Keep your coolers empty just in case!B

Our shiny new

tender spun like a

record. We watched

in horror as it

jerked backwards

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