Jennie@ifish
01-14-2008, 11:57 AM
Man overboard!
http://www.ifish.net/board/../fcjackets.jpg
By Frances Caldwell
Fearful words, that strike panic and fear in people when someone falls overboard. Departing the land of oxygen and entered the death zone just below the surface, can be sudden, and fatal, depending upon many circumstances.
It makes little difference where the vessel is located: in a lake, far at sea, close to shore, in protected waters, during nighttime or the brilliance of full day. The size of the vessel is immaterial. People fall overboard from ocean liners, sail boats, tugs, private yachts and fishing vessels, including skiffs.
Alcohol sometimes plays a part in this gruesome drama. Darkness adds to the tragedy.
A friend of mine was docking his forty-five foot commercial boat, stern first at his slip in Ketchikan one night, as he had done countless times in the past. His teen-aged son stood on the stern line with a line in his hand and waited to step onto the finger float, as he had done countless times. When his father stepped from the wheelhouse his son had disappeared.
His body was recovered later that night by a diver. Evidently, the boy had jumped, slipped and struck his head, before going into the water.
The facts are, once a person becomes separated from the boat, unless wearing a life jacket, there’s good chance he or she will not survive.
Although I have spent my entire life around boats, often with several crewmen on board, it has been my good fortune to never have been involved in a A man overboard, situation involving my own boat.
I’ve experienced dozens of man overboard, and cases involving other people and other boats. A disappointing number ended tragically. (See chapter, A Man Overboard, Page 86 in my book, Pacific Troller for a classic, heart rendering story of a young son who came back on deck after icing albacore off the Oregon Coast to discover his father missing.
Our neighbors, the Dejays, bought a beautiful 25-foot Carver inboard-outboard. Unfamiliar with boats, they asked me to take them on an evening trip around the local boat harbor. By the time we decided to return, a brisk westerly wind was blowing. They didn’t feel comfortable making a landing and asked me to land the boat. Their slip’s berth was on the port side, so the wind would be pushing the boat away from the float. A tricky landing. They had hung fenders on the port side, and Christi positioned herself at the stern. Pat took the bow line and waited, straddling the handrail. The bow was quite high and the handrail added to the distance above the float. The steering wheel was on the starboard side, leaving me blind as to what was happening below my line of sight on the port side.
I knew I’d have to keep the boat moving briskly, until I could reverse the propeller, or the wind would push us against a neighboring yacht.
As soon as our boat got close to the float, Pat jumped, and disappeared from my view. Instead of landing on the finger float, he slipped, fell into the water and disappeared. I heard Christi’s yell.
Alarm bells jangled in my head. Without knowing where Pat was located, I didn’t dare engage the clutch for fear of sucking him into the prop. He might have came up under the finger float, or under our boat. Our boat drifted slowly sideways towards the neighboring yacht.
Fortunately, about that time, others noticed and came to help.
By leaning out the port side window, I could see Pat clinging to the float with one arm. Christi had hold of him, but was unable to lift him onto the float, until help arrived. Because of a previous accident, Pat had no strength in his left shoulder.
It was just an evening cruise! Pat wasn’t wearing a life jacket!
With the boat securely moored, our attention turned to Pat. I realized that, as skipper, it had been my responsibility. Except for several scratches and bruises, he was OK.
I had made several mistakes, any one that could have ended in tragedy.
Despite my lifetime around boats, I had failed to take safety precautions with two people who were not familiar with the dangers of making landings.
In retrospect, I should have instructed Pat to carry the bow line as far aft as it would reach, or coil it on the rail where he could reach it after stepping off onto the finger float.
The experience was devastating to everyone involved, and they soon sold the boat. I felt guilty because it had been my fault.
Lessons to be learned from this experience:
1) Wear life jackets.
2) If inexperienced people are involved, and expected to participate in making a landing, instruct each person exactly what you expect of them, what position you want them to take, and to stay on board until instructed to leave the boat.
3. In the event someone falls overboard, do not engage the clutch unless you=re sure the person is safely away from the propeller.
4) During difficult landings, if you see things are not going as planned, back off and abort the landing. You can always try again.
http://www.ifish.net/board/../fclaunch.jpg
While operating a commercial longliner, which involved setting miles of ground line with hooks spaced a few feet apart, we were sometimes forced to make sets during darkness. Before starting, I used to get down on my knees in the wheelhouse and pray that no one would fall, or become trapped in the ground line as it whipped over the stern, and be yanked overboard. Of course anyone working on the stern wore a life jacket, and a knife was within reach, but that probably wouldn’t have saved someone tangled in hooks. Thankfully, no one ever went overboard.
Many charter boats have hand rails around the boat. They are truly a lifesaving feature, but if trying to recover someone who has gone overboard, unless there are sections that can be quickly opened, they become a barrier.
If someone goes overboard, quickly toss a life jacket, or, better yet, a lighted manbouy over to mark the spot. Press the MO button on the GPS, if available. If the vessel is moving, perform a figure eight turn to return to the spot. Extreme care must be observed to stop the prop once the location of the victim is approached. Position the vessel to windward.
If you are the only other person on board, you may not be able to retrieve the victim, especially if he has been numbed by the cold, without some lifting device. If there is a swim step, or boarding ladder, make us of that.
If others are on board, the tendency is for everyone to crowd the rail and stare at the victim. Instead, one person should prepare a heaving line, preferably one that will float, coiled and tied off to the boat, ready to throw. Another could be preparing a hoist, a sling from the end of a boom or davit, in case the person is too heavy to lift aboard. Another could be warming blankets and beverages.
If you are in the water, do not panic. Keep your legs tightly together to prevent flushing cold water under your clothing, and do not struggle. If possible, lift one arm so you are more easily seen by the helmsman. Do not attempt to swim to the boat, unless it is stationary and close.
Please be careful. Always wear a life jacket if there’s any possibility of falling overboard. You do not want to hear those tragic words, “Man Overboard!”
* * *
Thanks to Pete Morris, editor
http://www.ifish.net/board/../fcjackets.jpg
By Frances Caldwell
Fearful words, that strike panic and fear in people when someone falls overboard. Departing the land of oxygen and entered the death zone just below the surface, can be sudden, and fatal, depending upon many circumstances.
It makes little difference where the vessel is located: in a lake, far at sea, close to shore, in protected waters, during nighttime or the brilliance of full day. The size of the vessel is immaterial. People fall overboard from ocean liners, sail boats, tugs, private yachts and fishing vessels, including skiffs.
Alcohol sometimes plays a part in this gruesome drama. Darkness adds to the tragedy.
A friend of mine was docking his forty-five foot commercial boat, stern first at his slip in Ketchikan one night, as he had done countless times in the past. His teen-aged son stood on the stern line with a line in his hand and waited to step onto the finger float, as he had done countless times. When his father stepped from the wheelhouse his son had disappeared.
His body was recovered later that night by a diver. Evidently, the boy had jumped, slipped and struck his head, before going into the water.
The facts are, once a person becomes separated from the boat, unless wearing a life jacket, there’s good chance he or she will not survive.
Although I have spent my entire life around boats, often with several crewmen on board, it has been my good fortune to never have been involved in a A man overboard, situation involving my own boat.
I’ve experienced dozens of man overboard, and cases involving other people and other boats. A disappointing number ended tragically. (See chapter, A Man Overboard, Page 86 in my book, Pacific Troller for a classic, heart rendering story of a young son who came back on deck after icing albacore off the Oregon Coast to discover his father missing.
Our neighbors, the Dejays, bought a beautiful 25-foot Carver inboard-outboard. Unfamiliar with boats, they asked me to take them on an evening trip around the local boat harbor. By the time we decided to return, a brisk westerly wind was blowing. They didn’t feel comfortable making a landing and asked me to land the boat. Their slip’s berth was on the port side, so the wind would be pushing the boat away from the float. A tricky landing. They had hung fenders on the port side, and Christi positioned herself at the stern. Pat took the bow line and waited, straddling the handrail. The bow was quite high and the handrail added to the distance above the float. The steering wheel was on the starboard side, leaving me blind as to what was happening below my line of sight on the port side.
I knew I’d have to keep the boat moving briskly, until I could reverse the propeller, or the wind would push us against a neighboring yacht.
As soon as our boat got close to the float, Pat jumped, and disappeared from my view. Instead of landing on the finger float, he slipped, fell into the water and disappeared. I heard Christi’s yell.
Alarm bells jangled in my head. Without knowing where Pat was located, I didn’t dare engage the clutch for fear of sucking him into the prop. He might have came up under the finger float, or under our boat. Our boat drifted slowly sideways towards the neighboring yacht.
Fortunately, about that time, others noticed and came to help.
By leaning out the port side window, I could see Pat clinging to the float with one arm. Christi had hold of him, but was unable to lift him onto the float, until help arrived. Because of a previous accident, Pat had no strength in his left shoulder.
It was just an evening cruise! Pat wasn’t wearing a life jacket!
With the boat securely moored, our attention turned to Pat. I realized that, as skipper, it had been my responsibility. Except for several scratches and bruises, he was OK.
I had made several mistakes, any one that could have ended in tragedy.
Despite my lifetime around boats, I had failed to take safety precautions with two people who were not familiar with the dangers of making landings.
In retrospect, I should have instructed Pat to carry the bow line as far aft as it would reach, or coil it on the rail where he could reach it after stepping off onto the finger float.
The experience was devastating to everyone involved, and they soon sold the boat. I felt guilty because it had been my fault.
Lessons to be learned from this experience:
1) Wear life jackets.
2) If inexperienced people are involved, and expected to participate in making a landing, instruct each person exactly what you expect of them, what position you want them to take, and to stay on board until instructed to leave the boat.
3. In the event someone falls overboard, do not engage the clutch unless you=re sure the person is safely away from the propeller.
4) During difficult landings, if you see things are not going as planned, back off and abort the landing. You can always try again.
http://www.ifish.net/board/../fclaunch.jpg
While operating a commercial longliner, which involved setting miles of ground line with hooks spaced a few feet apart, we were sometimes forced to make sets during darkness. Before starting, I used to get down on my knees in the wheelhouse and pray that no one would fall, or become trapped in the ground line as it whipped over the stern, and be yanked overboard. Of course anyone working on the stern wore a life jacket, and a knife was within reach, but that probably wouldn’t have saved someone tangled in hooks. Thankfully, no one ever went overboard.
Many charter boats have hand rails around the boat. They are truly a lifesaving feature, but if trying to recover someone who has gone overboard, unless there are sections that can be quickly opened, they become a barrier.
If someone goes overboard, quickly toss a life jacket, or, better yet, a lighted manbouy over to mark the spot. Press the MO button on the GPS, if available. If the vessel is moving, perform a figure eight turn to return to the spot. Extreme care must be observed to stop the prop once the location of the victim is approached. Position the vessel to windward.
If you are the only other person on board, you may not be able to retrieve the victim, especially if he has been numbed by the cold, without some lifting device. If there is a swim step, or boarding ladder, make us of that.
If others are on board, the tendency is for everyone to crowd the rail and stare at the victim. Instead, one person should prepare a heaving line, preferably one that will float, coiled and tied off to the boat, ready to throw. Another could be preparing a hoist, a sling from the end of a boom or davit, in case the person is too heavy to lift aboard. Another could be warming blankets and beverages.
If you are in the water, do not panic. Keep your legs tightly together to prevent flushing cold water under your clothing, and do not struggle. If possible, lift one arm so you are more easily seen by the helmsman. Do not attempt to swim to the boat, unless it is stationary and close.
Please be careful. Always wear a life jacket if there’s any possibility of falling overboard. You do not want to hear those tragic words, “Man Overboard!”
* * *
Thanks to Pete Morris, editor