Ten Degrees of Reckoning (10 page)

“Don’t worry, Daddy,” Judy remembers Annie saying. “Annique will talk to everyone on the Hole in the Net and start a rescue for us. Don’t worry, Daddy, Annique is going to save us.”

The three locked themselves together, their bodies entangled, sitting low. They would crawl, as one, back up to the high side of the dinghy if the waves caused them to slip downward. Mike and Judy kept their hands over Annie’s little ones, as they grasped the painter. They passed Annie back and forth between them, cradling her in their arms. Judy marveled at her little daughter’s strength and spirit. In spite of being cold and frightened, Annie didn’t complain. For a long time, she kept chattering. She tried to help Judy cheer Mike up by telling stories, but he remained unresponsive and indifferent. He wasn’t even mentioning the cold any longer. They named all the cousins, all thirteen of them. Annie told Mike she had thought of a name for her puppy. It would be called Sparkie. They sang a Hebrew prayer, the Shema, and prayed. Mike had never been a remote father, and Annie began to huddle closer to Judy, perhaps sensing that she had a better chance for survival with her mother.

After a while, Annie became quiet. Judy started reconstructing all the events in her head. She knew their position minutes before the ship rammed them, and she made herself remember everything that had happened since the collision. Mike shifted a little, and Judy thought he was trying to make himself more comfortable. He took each of their hands, raised his head, and seemed to see them clearly for the first time in hours.

“I think we should join Ben as quickly as possible,” Mike said, in his most rational voice. Still holding their hands, he slipped into the water, deliberately pulling them with him.

Judy and Annie were shocked that they were back in the water, but before they could even speak or cry out, Mike continued, “We’ll dive down as far as we can, still holding hands. Open your mouths, let out your breath, and take in as much water as possible. Keep doing it so your lungs can fill. You’ll panic at first, but just for a minute, and then you’ll feel good. We’ll open our eyes and look at each other. We’ll be holding hands and we’ll go to heaven together and join Ben.”

Annie was terrified. She could barely keep her head up. “Daddy, why won’t we stay on top of the dinghy and try to go to New Zealand? Daddy, please, I don’t want to die.”

Annie was wailing, Judy was weeping, and yet Mike seemed calm, almost bewildered by their reluctance to participate in his plan.

Somehow Judy and Annie managed to get back on the dinghy and pull Mike up as well. Judy knew he was weakening rapidly; this behavior was in complete opposition to his normal self, especially as a protective father. He wasn’t clearheaded, and as he was only in underwear and sweatshirt, his physical and mental impairment could only worsen. Mike began to mumble, and to ask Judy to repeat things over and over. He seemed so unsettled. Judy started singing softly, and Annie joined in. Judy knew Annie was equally devastated, but they discussed poodles and Bernina sewing machines, hoping to encourage Mike to hang on.

Later, the New Zealand National Meteorological Service (MetService) would reconstruct the weather data in the area. They would estimate winds at 40 knots and seas up to 7 meters (21 feet). The dinghy was not built for these conditions. On top of their little rubber boat, the wind seemed to come from everywhere, as the Sleavins were tossed across the enormous swells. Water rushed over them, walls of water. They were terrified and mute; in the shrieking winds, it was useless to try to holler at one another. They huddled close.

Darkness gradually turned into a gray dawn. They had survived the night. For six hours Judy and Annie had each kept a tight grip on Mike’s hand to keep him attached to the painter and to them. It was Annie who saw the sailboats heading toward shore.

“Look, Mommy, there are our friends!”

Judy was battling exhaustion and frustration. They had been so well prepared. They had kept an abandon-ship bag and a waterproof VHF radio in a watertight bag, handy at the bottom of the aft companionway stairs. Seawater had filled the boat in seconds, and everything had gone down with
Melinda Lee.
Now Judy had no means to hail these sailboats or call attention to their presence. She didn’t want to frighten Annie.

“I see, Annie, and you know what? We’re heading to land, too.”

It was true; normally the prevailing winds were westerly, but with these northeasterly winds, they were being carried toward their destination. It was still very overcast, and the wind had not abated at all, but at least it was light out. Annie’s excitement raised Judy’s spirits, and the two of them made a game of counting and naming the sailboats. Mike was reluctant to even raise his head, but at least he wasn’t unconscious.

“Look, Michael, look up! That must be Cape Brett and the entrance to the Bay of Islands, with boats heading in to Opua.”

It was fortunate they were this close to land, because Mike seemed completely disoriented, and Judy feared he would lose consciousness.

Just as Judy was beginning to feel encouraged about their progress, the wind shifted and propelled them backward, forcing them away from land. This was disastrous. Mike needed immediate medical attention. And they all needed to be retrieved from the dinghy as soon as possible. She wanted to be heading the same way as the incoming sailboats. She wanted to be in their paths. How else would they be rescued?

Judy checked her watch: nine a.m. She had another disheartening thought. Annique would have hailed them on the Hole in the Net by now, but Judy had told Annique not to expect a response on the morning roll call. She had said they would be busy with customs and immigration. No one would be alarmed yet. On the positive side, Annique had hooked Judy up on the radio with Erica Crenshaw on
Aquavit,
already in Opua and waiting for them. She also remembered she had told Kerikeri Radio they would check in with the port captain at approximately eight a.m. Judy knew that the cruisers always expected the
Melinda Lee
to arrive early.

She estimated their distance at about ten miles from Cape Brett, but whenever they got closer to land, the current and seas would sweep them back out. She forced herself to remain calm. Of course they would be rescued. They wouldn’t have to spend another night on the dinghy. She was certain Annique would be on the radio in a few hours in order to establish their safe arrival.
Aquavit
would inform the net of their absence and alert everyone else in Opua, by that afternoon at the latest. Judy felt somewhat relieved; they could hang on until then.

The wind continued to propel them away from land. An hour went by. Another front developed and the winds increased to gale-force strength. The waves were huge and confused, lumping up every which way and making it difficult to hang on, but they all managed, clutching the painter as the dinghy climbed the vertical walls of water. With each wave Judy thought,
This is the end
. But the dinghy went over the top every time, and she thought,
Wow, some kind of miracle.
But then she saw it: the huge curling wave coming toward them, foaming white at its crest before it broke, crashing into them. It hurled Mike, Annie, and Judy off the dinghy in opposite directions.

They had always had a safety routine, in their snorkeling adventures. If the wind picked up or the sharks got too close, Judy would pull up the little anchor and ready the dinghy, and Mike would gather the children. Now, whether he was, in his mind, back in an anchorage on a family outing or was truly aware of the peril in the present circumstances, Mike responded as he always had to any risks.

“Quick, Judith,” he yelled, “swim to the dinghy and grab it. I’ll go get Annie.”

Judy used her upper body to dog-paddle madly over to the dinghy. Fortunately it wasn’t too far away, because she noticed her legs wouldn’t function at all, even with the buoyancy of the water. She snatched the dinghy as it rode down a wave and held fast to it, trying to keep her eyes on Mike and on Annie. Mike was definitely the family’s best swimmer, but her strong, athletic husband looked like he was swimming through quicksand, sluggish and completely uncoordinated.

Annie was crying out, “Mommy, Mommy, come and save me. Mommy, save me!”

“Hold on, Annie. Hold on. Daddy’s coming,” Judy shouted back.

Judy was out of her mind with fear. Mike was making progress, but it seemed so slow. Judy was too far away to rescue Annie, and her legs felt useless now. She would have to leave the dinghy behind to get to Annie, and Annie would need the dinghy to survive. With the seas getting larger, Judy was losing sight of Annie, but only intermittently, and only for a few seconds. Then the bright red foul-weather jacket would come back into view and Judy would unclamp her jaw. Please, God, she was praying, we need help.

Another huge wave humped up and rushed toward them. Judy saw Annie rise high up. She thought there was a chance Annie might be thrown toward Mike, but instead she heard Annie choking on all the seawater. Could she actually hear Annie choking, she wondered, or was this her imagination? Choking at least meant Annie was still breathing. Annie’s arms began flailing, and Judy watched as the arms of the red jacket thrashed about, then slowed, and then stopped moving altogether.

Judy began screaming. It was not a human sound.

Mike heard those screams and looked over at Judy, just as he was approaching Annie. Then he turned to see Annie, floating facedown and limp. He gathered her in his arms, and even from afar Judy knew by his manner that Annie was no longer alive. She could only guess what entered Mike’s distraught and delirious mind, but she knew that Mike was too broken up, physically and emotionally, to cope with the idea of another dead child.

Mike was still holding on to Annie’s lifeless body, and they were being carried by the waves in one direction while Judy and the dinghy were being carried in the other. Judy could still see them. It looked as if Mike was kissing Annie’s face. And then he let her go. Mike turned back to look at Judy. It seemed to Judy that they stared into each other’s eyes for the longest time, and then Mike threw her a kiss. He waved goodbye, and disappeared underwater.

Nine

Obligations and Procedures

FOR CENTURIES, SEAFARERS HAVE CONSIDERED IT AN obligation to assist fellow mariners in danger. There have been many remarkable and sometimes heroic efforts made to save lives, regardless of nationality and status.

In 1956, the Italian luxury liner the
Andrea Doria
and the Swedish American Line’s passenger ship the
Stockholm
collided. Radio communications had improved by then, and they were able to put out a distress call. Another passenger liner, the
Île de France,
turned back from its own crossing to Europe to provide assistance. Because of this response, and that of several other smaller ships, only five crew members from the
Stockholm
died, and only forty-six of the 1,706 passengers and crew from the
Andrea Doria
perished, despite calamitous damage.

Tradition has evolved into, and is protected by, international law. The International Maritime Organization (IMO), which met for the first time in 1959, is a specialized agency of the United Nations devoted to maritime affairs. Over the years the IMO has developed protocols and recommendations dealing with maritime safety. The details of search-and-rescue obligations are found in various IMO Conventions.

The United Nations Convention on the Law of the Sea, or UNCLOS, says, in part, that every country must require the master of a ship flying its flag to render assistance to any person found in danger of being lost at sea and to proceed to the rescue of persons in distress.

The Search and Rescue (SAR) Convention of 1979 recognizes wider involvement. There is an obligation not only to “retrieve persons in distress and provide for their initial medical or other needs” but also to “deliver them to a place of safety.”

The Safety of Life at Sea (SOLAS) Convention says: “The master of a ship at sea which is in a position to be able to provide assistance, on receiving a signal from any source that persons are in distress at sea, is bound to proceed with all speed to their assistance.”

In November 2002 there was another nautical hit-and-run in the same area as the
Melinda Lee
collision. The abandoned Swedish yachtsman was fortunate. The collision did not damage his life raft and he had time to send out a distress signal before his sailboat sank. Six vessels, including other sailboats and commercial ships, answered the call for help. Three hours later a Russian ship made it to the scene, and the captain managed to maneuver his 21,000-ton ship around to protect the life raft so that his crew could rescue the freezing, shaking man.

In June 2003, when a dangerously ill crew member had to be evacuated from a sailboat in the North Atlantic, a Greek tanker, a U.S. Navy supply ship, and a helicopter all came to his aid. The rescue was coordinated by the Automated Mutual-assistance Vessel Rescue system (AMVER), which is sponsored by the U.S. Coast Guard. It is a voluntary ship-reporting system used worldwide by search-and-rescue authorities. The Greek tanker was contacted from the center in Norfolk, Virginia, and asked to divert course. Had a vessel been in distress in the eastern part of the North Atlantic, the center in Falmouth, England, would have coordinated all efforts to rescue the crew.

The AMVER system was also used to coordinate search efforts in May 2002, when two Belgian sailors activated their EPIRB from a sinking sailboat. Their mast had broken, puncturing their hull and partially submerging their boat. The crew members of an Indian bulk carrier steamed to the scene and rescued the sailors 470 miles southeast of Halifax, Nova Scotia.

On July 20, 2002, a Japanese fishing vessel grounded on an atoll 330 miles southwest of Wake Island in the Pacific Ocean and was taking on water. The U.S. Coast Guard station in Honolulu requested aid from vessels in the area. An American ship 220 miles and ten hours away diverted course and headed south to rescue the stricken fishermen on the life raft.