InsidePassageNews.com

CREW ORGANIZATION AND PLANNING MAY PREVENT
AN UNEXPECTED CRISIS FROM BECOMING AN EMERGENCY
ON YOUR VESSEL

Story and photos by Cal and Nancy Massey, M/V Hale Kai

Each day of cruising in Alaska starts with expectations—fish to catch, landscapes to explore, and wildlife to discover. However, there is one thing missing from most vessels’ daily itineraries. Upon waking to a misty Alaska morning, most crews do not expect to encounter abnormal setbacks or emergent crises. My hopes for the 2004 voyage of Hale Kai were no different. Lifting the anchor for another summer at sea, my wife, Nancy, and I feasted on visions of glistening glaciers, clear waters, and bald eagles. There was no space in our itinerary for “expect the worst.” Yet, our run-in with the unexpected turned our crystal-clear anticipation into turbid reality. The careful reader will take this story to heart—even to itinerary—and will find a time and place for preparing for the unexpected. Through these mishaps, we learn that a good captain should have a sense of his vessel, his crew, not to mention a carefully recited plan to handle unexpected emergencies en route.

We departed from Sitka, Alaska, on July 5, 2004. The day started exactly as we had hoped; calm waters and warm temperatures as we headed for Kalinin Bay. For our Nordhavn 40, Hale Kai, the trip is a four hour cruise. Kalinin Bay is on the north side of Kruzof Island, northwest of Sitka. Our guests Joe and Judy, as well as my wife Nancy and I accounted for the boats’ crew. Our foursome had been on the boat for several days in the Sitka area. Itching to stretch our wings, we headed north for a day of whale watching and fishing. Alaska weather always plays a role in trip planning, but our luck brought only a high overcast, pockets of sun peeking through hints of rain. Our other friends, Paige and Jim, were joining us in Kalinin Bay, but would leave Sitka much later. Their 42-foot Hinckley’s 25 knot speed would swallow the Nordhavn’s 7.5 knots. Once convened, the couple’s cruiser followed us into the bay via a tight but well charted channel.

Kalinin Bay is a popular spot with many boaters and charters since it is close to the Pacific, yet well protected. The trip into Kalinin Bay was our third through its entrance channel, but the first for our guests, Joe and Judy. Nancy and I were familiar with its rocky entrance, and we navigated it without trouble despite the fact it had presented a challenge on our first attempt.

It was early afternoon and, although there were at least six to seven other vessels anchored in the bay, we still found plenty of swinging room for our two boats. Both crews found possible anchorages, and we planned to spend the night in Kalinin’ protected sanctuary.

The Hinckley dropped her hook, and we put out our crab pot with high hopes of several nice Dungeness crab on our return. With time of slack tide approaching, and with Paige and Jim's vessel securely anchored, they joined us aboard Hale Kai for an afternoon of fishing and visiting. I felt safe in the anchorage and asked Joe if he would “just drive Hale Kai around the other anchored boats and not get too close”. Since Hale Kai has twin Furuno NavNets displaying both chart and depth, a PC with Nobletec, and a second depth finder, I felt I could hand Joe the task without worry; his previous experience as a large merchant ship navigator and merchant marine college graduate gave me confidence. It was the perfect afternoon. I left the pilothouse and went to the upper boat deck to prepare the fishing rods. At the same time, Nancy ran downstairs to grab a jacket.

When Nancy returned to the pilothouse a few moments later, she realized that instead of driving Hale Kai around the bay, Joe had ventured out the narrow, rocky channel toward Salisbury Sound and the Pacific. The Douglass’ cruising guide, Exploring Southeast Alaska, has a good description and map of the submerged rocks and hazards in this channel, however, Joe had never seen it. Another vessel was entering the bay, so Joe thought he should hug the right shore. Looking at the keel-calibrated sounders, the depth read, in quick succession: 12…7…5 feet. At that moment, Nancy yelled “Reverse, Reverse!” Joe snapped the boat in reverse, but it was too late. We were coasting at about 2-3 knots at idle.

Boom. Lurch, Boom. I was on my knees on the boat deck retrieving the rods and have never had such a sickening feeling so quickly in my life. Hale Kai had hit something. I rushed to the pilothouse with dread. Nancy was at the wheel, now, instead of Joe. Not having paid attention to our course, I was disoriented and not sure where we were, but I knew we weren't where I had expected Joe to guide Hale Kai. My sick feeling grew.

On my way down to the pilothouse, I was thinking we'd hit our keel which, on the Nordhavn, is about fourteen to sixteen inches wide and solid fiberglass. "A little fiberglass damaged, but not a major event," I tried to tell myself. But, at the same time, something inside me cried, “Damage Control!” a term for the personal protocol I'd rehearsed many times over the last two years of ownership.

Regaining my composure and direction, I took command of Hale Kai and moved her to a safer area of the bay. Nancy checked our guests for injuries; none, other than Joe’s severely bruised pride and exceptional concern. She then took the wheel as I initiated my “mentally rehearsed” Damage Control Plan.

Thinking Hale Kai remained unharmed, I relaxed my emergency status. "Let's to fishing!” I suggested. In the meantime, Jim asked Nancy if I'd checked the stabilizers?” She answered that I had.

With a sixth sense, Jim asked where they were and went below to check. He reappeared within minutes and suggested that I re-examine them, announcing, “Your port unit is leaking water.”

Anxiously, I confirmed his finding. Much to our despair, the port Naiad had been severely damaged (see photo). The shaft was bent and the seal had been broken. Our afternoon excursion was over. Hale Kai had encountered an unexpected crisis, and it looked as if it was becoming an emergency. We were three-and-a-half to four hours from help. The real question was, “Do we stay in the bay hoping for assistance from the other boats, or do we prepare for a four-hour trip to Sitka?

My Damage Control Plan had prepared me for this type of crisis! In retrospect, Nancy told me she sensed my ability to handle the emergency, considering my 35 years of training as a Navy and Airline pilot.

After determining we could control the in-flow of water with our bilge pumps (two electric and one very large manual Whale Pump), we picked up the crab pot, released one sub-legal Dungeness crab, and returned Jim and Paige to their Hinckley. The decision: we would return to Sitka. It was a bet with risk, but one made for two reasons. First, we could control the water with our pumps. Second, we could arrive before dark—provided all went well. Doubting either of these scenarios, I would have stayed until morning, advising the other boaters and the USCG of our dilemma. But I knew our vessel, and knew we would make it to Sitka. We prepared, and began the return cruise.

Our course was still in Nobletec, so we carefully proceeded out of Kalinin Bay and tried to contact the Sitka Harbor Master on the cell phone. Cell service was not available, so I used my Iridium Sat Com and called Sitka. The Harbor Master’s office suggested I contact Halibut Point Marine's owner, Bob Jacoby, at home. To my surprise he was available – even on the holiday weekend. (I learned later that they have a 24/7 phone-watch policy.)

While I was making the arrangements, Nancy monitored the autopilot; Joe and Judy monitored the bilges. Jacoby said he would be at the Marina when we arrived; I gave him an ETA of 1930 ADT. The crisis controlled, our emergency recovered to the grade “abnormal event."

We were no longer in immediate danger; yet, as Hale Kai's speed increased, the leak grew. The hydrodynamic water pressure at 7.8-8.0 knots on the damaged Naiad stabilizer was forcing additional water through the damaged stabilizer shaft hub and bearing. Fortunately, I have great familiarity of my vessel, and I pulled up some floor carpet and inspection panels to allow the water a better path to the bilge.

From previous knowledge of a similar event on a sister ship, I had learned that bilges on new boats may have hidden construction residue that can disable the normal electric bilge pump. For the next several hours I checked this pump and cleaned the strainer. Unless a severe leak overwhelms the bilge pump, no one really knows if the manual pump is working. The only way to test this function is to fill the bilge with water and test the unit.

Observing our change in plan, Joe felt horrible about his role in its onset. I gave him the job of timing the rise of water in the bilge, then using the manual pump to discharge the water; this reduced the load on the smaller electric and gave him a useful job. After a time, and our combined efforts, we had a very good idea of our status and Hale Kai’s condition. Still, we took the normal, most crowded, return route to Sitka from Salisbury Sound. I wanted to remain where the majority of traffic would be should things have taken a turn for the worse. We did not call the USCG, but we did monitor their frequency. If our predicament became an emergency, I would have declared it to the USCG—I consider this a captain's decision. But I didn't think we were in such danger after the initial threat had been contained.

With four hours of cruising time to Sitka, I had time to evaluate and expand my Damage Control Plan. What would we do if things did worsen? We discussed the emergency equipment, raft launching, EPIRB, even beaching the vessel if needed. We reviewed our procedures, including another life jacket briefing. Each Mustang auto-inflate life jacket was tried on again, then placed where the user could access it immediately.

Gratefully, our trip, to Halibut Point Marine, just north of Sitka, was routine, except that the port stabilizer was leaking and the Naiad system was secured to the center position. As we came out of Olga Strait, I contacted Bob Jacoby on the cell phone. Like a pair of tiny rescue beacons, his pickup truck lights adjacent the travel lift guided us to safety. Our captain and crew had nursed Hale Kai back to Sitka, with careful decision- making and practiced protocols leading the way.

In retrospect, Nancy praised the crew, saying we handled the situation nicely, securing the stability of Hale Kai and our safety. I contribute our success to my experience with the abnormal events and emergencies throughout my aviation career. Without such trained reflexes, I know our fate could have turned out differently. Yet, one doesn’t have to be a veteran pilot to handle emergencies on his or her vessel. Another crew could have accomplished a successful recovery in another manner and still had the same results. The most important element was, and still is, to have a plan and execute it in the case of an emergency.

Several key factors helped in our safe recovery of Hale Kai that Alaska summer afternoon. First, crew safety briefing prior to departure, including the location and capacity of the safety gear and expectations of each crew member in the case of an emergency. Secondly, the crew (not including temporary guests) must know their vessel thoroughly. Third, reliable onboard communications must be operational and crew must know how to use them in an emergency, including some form of long range communication. (In our case, the Sat Com saved the day; but in most cases the USCG could have arranged the haul-out if they had been contacted.) Fourth, knowing where the suitable lifts are located along your route should they be needed in an emergency.

Being able to speak directly with Bob Jacoby was helpful for our situation. Lastly, maintain all charts and plotters, always displaying the correct and most current chart for the crew member navigating and insure that they understand the charting system and the navigation “rules of the road”.

Along with the keys to our success come the keys to our near-disaster. When operating one’s vessel, the captain must consider these "learning moments" when preparing for the next voyage! First, I did not give a proper and complete briefing for change of control before Joe took the wheel. Admittedly, not even the hope for a great catch of crab, salmon or halibut should stand in the way of briefing a successor helmsman. Next, Nancy and I, as Hale Kai’s most seasoned crew, gave control of her to our guests in less-than-ideal conditions.

We have now incorporated this rule: only immediate crew will operate Hale Kai in precarious situations because they are more familiar with her navigation and systems. The biggest mistake I made was assuming a level of knowledge from my guest concerning the handling of my vessel. I assumed that Joe’s prior knowledge of navigation and ship-handling was adequate for the task I delegated. I didn't consider the hundreds of hours I've spent laboring over charts, examining tidal patterns, and scrutinizing Hale Kai's strengths and limitations.

Remember that no guest will ever know a vessel as well as her captain. The captain must delegate tasks and “load shed” all but the most critical tasks. Furthermore; he must maintain Situational Awareness, so that overall safety of the vessel is maintained in an unexpected crisis, and sometimes emergent conditions.

Hale Kai was repaired within a week and we spent several more months cruising Alaska, British Columbia and Washington before mooring her for the fall, and returning home.

A special thanks to Bob Jacoby and Halibut Point Marine for their expert assistance and care, especially on a holiday weekend. Ray Wright, “Mr. Naiad West Coast”, dropped everything and arranged for the parts to be flown from the East Coast and then flew to Sitka for the repair and installation of the new stabilizer. One thing I did early on for Hale Kai was establish a reliable and knowledgeable maintenance staff that would know our boat. It really paid dividends when we needed that help. Thank you!!