“It’s not how you get into trouble”

My wife and I and two other married couple friends (first time charterers) were aboard a Lagoon 45 (catamaran) in the BVI.  On January 17, we anchored in Great Harbor, Jost Van Dyke, after being unsuccessful on “Boaty Ball”, a relatively new web based way to reserve and pay for mooring balls.  In this harbor 80 percent of the moorings were the orange boaty ball mooring buoys and 20 percent were either white (first come first serve, like the good old days) or white with orange (reserved).

Great Harbor, Jost Van Dyke

We arrived to Jost early in the afternoon, plenty of light and not a mooring ball to be had, all the white balls were used and all the orange balls were reserved per the Boaty Ball website.  No problem, several other boats were anchored, we picked a spot between two boats, anchored and drifted back to a good spot.  Sometimes I dive to check the anchor, especially when I back up hard to try to set it and I don’t feel the obvious sudden (whiplash inducing) shock of the anchor refusing to move one more inch.  This time it was not quite set as deep as I prefer and Hunter (my wife, and by far the most experienced crew aboard) hit the engine controls hard in reverse for a couple seconds and the anchor was stuck!

There was a power boat, an older Ocean sportfisherman to the right, and another charter catamaran to the left, both on mooring balls and both plenty far enough away, the moorings were generously spaced and seemed to provide plenty of room to anchor (foreshadowing).

We ate dinner aboard and then tendered ashore to check things out, had a drink at Corsairs,

Drinks at Corsairs

and all went as planned on my last night as a 50 something.  It was about 80 degrees and we all had sun exposure, so the crew decided to sleep with air conditioning, which unfortunately includes a generator (and its noise).

0330 January 18, 2024, one of the crew,  Vicki, awakens Hunter and I with news that it sounded like the boat hit something and there is another boat, very close to our stern.  I get up and flounder for some cover for my now 60 year old parts and come up to the bridge deck to find a mono hull sailboat within a few feet of our port transom, “not ideal”, I thought through the wake up fog“, “that wasn’t even one of the boats that was close to us”.

I quickly came to a point where I could assess the situation and made a decision.  I made the very good (easy) one of “let’s just pull in some anchor rode” and see what that does. 

The wind had been steady southeast trades blowing 30 km/h (we were in the British Virgin Islands) since we boarded three days earlier.  We had bashed naked (no sails) from Hodges Creek Marina in Tortola to The Baths on Virgin Gorda, and moored, then sailed to Norman Island, picking up another mooring.  The wind was howling on the ball and the boats were all moving together as expected, not at 3:30 am on 1/18.

Early on my birthday morn It was dead calm, the boats were just lollygagging around, as if they were boatyard workers on a break.  Nothing was moving with any intention or energy.  So I started the engines and by now Vicki’s husband Dave, Hunter and another crew member John, were up and ready to help.  I asked Hunter to lead the foredeck crew, turned on the foredeck light and navigation lights, and hoped the minimal effort would work.  The anchor was where?  It was unclear but in the few minutes we attempted to shorten the scope, it became clear that was not the right decision.  I don’t think we drug it, I believe our scope was too long for this mooring field and I was in no position to try to assess a shortened scope.  By the time Hunter told me she had pulled the rode in to the bridle, my brain fog cleared and I decided to find a mooring, “we got to get out of here” I told the crew, as we remained 30 feet from the sleeping neighbor.

“Please pull the anchor”, said I.  “It’s in that direction”, says she.  “Please pull the anchor”, says I, slightly louder.  “ “, (crickets), says she and I hear no windlass noise (also not quiet).  “Please pull the anchor”, yells I.  “We are all in this together, as a team”, says she calmly.  I instantly think, privately, well pull the f**kin anchor and I won’t yell, but says I something slightly less rude but still stupid, I am sure.  The anchor comes up and I have distributed two small flashlights to Dave and Hunter and we are on a quest for a mooring buoy.

The advantage of looking for a mooring buoy at 3:30, after almost hitting the neighbor boat, is that it doesn’t matter what color or if it was reserved, they can kick me off in a few hours, but I’m taking it.  We spot one dead astern, maybe 50 yards, crisis averted.  I engage in reverse, still dead calm, don’t need much throttle and will be on a ball shortly.  I hear a quick, repetitive, “soft knocking” sound to port aft.  “Hey Dave, is there a line over the back that is tight?”.  “No, I mean yes”, says he.  “We wrapped a line in the port prop”, says I, and instantly realize I had put the tender to bed, it was my fault there was a line to wrap.  Teaching moment, always secure the lines that can reach the propeller(s), you never know. 

The buoy is now directly to port, still about 50 yards away, still calm and we have the starboard engine, no big deal, slowly we make the port side turn and with a bit of luck, stay calm and approach the mooring  ball with one engine, much easier in these conditions.  Hunter reaches down to grab the ball with the boat hook and with a slightly comical cuss word, raises the top section of the extending, two piece boat hook, the hook end has disengaged, of course. 

Fortunately, during the mooring procedure, I had Dave grab the taught port side dinghy lift line and reversed the engine, the line broke and we had port engine function, or at least some of it.  Teaching moment two: when you wrap a line, try to reverse direction of the propeller and see if it will free itself. My brain worked slowly that morning.  We decide to pick up the ball from the starboard transom, ‘cause we could reach it from there.  Hunter had already been scoping the SUP paddle and its hand hold hook as the back up boat hook, she’s brilliant, but she didn’t tell me about that until later in the day.  We began maneuvering to pick up the ball when the wind woke up, felt like the game maker from Hunger Games decided to up the ante, “They have it figured out, let’s make this more interesting.”

We get our starboard swim step to the ball and pick it up, Dave and I now have a bridle line, through the mooring loop and in our hands.  “We won!”, I think, and the game master sends a gust while we are walking the mooring line forward.  Cuss word!  There is a SUP on the lifelines at my feet, “where is a cleat, I can’t hold this line much longer.”  “Dave, let’s go back to the transom and secure this line”, says I and Dave is on it.  Hunter takes the helm and pivots the boat expertly, and the crisis is averted as we attach the makeshift bridle to the bow cleats. 

I notice the other half of the boat hook in the water, next to the boat we almost hit.  I half jokingly say, “Hunter, there’s the boat hook, go get it.”  She hesitates, says she is scared to jump into the dark water.  She recalls that I was insistent, I recall thinking about jumping in myself, as it seems too easy and close to launch the tender or one of the toys, and the water is warm enough.  Next thing I know, she is in the water and the boat hook is retrieved.  She is the true hero of event.    

We were never in any danger, which reduces the stress significantly.  Most of us were able to go back to sleep and Sarah, the sixth member of the crew, didn’t have to, as she slept peacefully throughout the minor ordeal. 

The next morning, after cutting the small amount of line out of the saildrive’s propeller, I took the tender and played salesman, going transom to transom of five boats on white mooring balls, “Hey, it’s my 60^th birthday and I would like to spend it here, are you leaving today?”  All were kind and we traded phone numbers.  I approached the fifth boat, it was the Ocean sportfisherman, named “Super Foxy” with hailing port Jost Van Dyke.  I approached the stern and said “You must have local knowledge”, and gave my sales pitch.  Turns out the guy I was talking to was Foxy, not only was he a handsome and distinguished (meaning gray) gentleman, but he was the owner of the like named restaurant where we would be celebrating my birthday that night.  His friend or captain asked, “where you celebrating tonight?”. “Foxy’s”, says I.  “Have you asked him permission?”, says he. “No”, says I.  “Well this is him”, says he, pointing to the man sitting on the gunnel eating some fruit. 

“Can I celebrate at your place?” says I.  “Ah, yeah mon and you can use my buoy tonight, we goin fishin.” Foxy says in the local dialect.  “Let the party begin”, thinks I.

Fortuitous Jenga block on my birthday

More flattering photo of crew

“What a great job you have.  You get to play with boats all the time!”  We hear this regularly.

We feel blessed and have chosen this trade because of our love of boats and boating, but all boats are not fully crewed mega yachts or maintained by fastidious owners.  Some are filthy and stinky.  Our claims business often finds us crawling through boats that were recently raised from the bottom, thick with soot from a fire or grossly fouled from some horrendous accident.  We regularly wear knee pads and it is not uncommon to don long-sleeved coveralls, gloves, boots, eye protection and a respirator (full PPE) and there is another type of unpleasantness, the human type.

Marine surveying is a service business and we cherish out customers.  Good service leads to goodwill and referrals from satisfied customers.  Good service will minimize negative results from dissatisfied customers.  I do not necessarily believe the client is always right but the client is always the client. 

There are times that we experience a side of humanity and difficult personalities that challenge our professionalism and social graces. 

The following short story and the text thread that follows is the first story written about one of these experiences, and we have written a lot of stories. (Comments in parenthesis are added for humor.)

The engagement began normally.  A telephone call discussing the purchase of a J/105 sailboat.  The client declined the sea trial, stating “I don’t need to sail it”.  The day before the survey, on a conversation confirming the survey, the client decided to have the surveyor attend the vessel at the marina, witness a cold start and check the engine on the way to the boatyard. 

The survey also started normally in the marina, the engine was inspected prior to starting, a cold start was witnessed and the vessel was operated from the marina to the boatyard.  On the way, a short detour was made to test the engine under wide open throttle and the vessel arrived on schedule to the boatyard.  The boatyard had not received an agreement from the client.  I called the client and he stated, “Really? They’ve only known me for 30 years.”

Ironically, I discussed with the boatyard how important agreements are to us and that we make sure the agreements are signed the day before the survey, which I thought was done in this case. 

The vessel was hauled as usual and the boatyard personnel discuss blocking the vessel as it was going to be out for a few days.  The potential buyer arrives and wants to have the boat out of the water so that he can change the name.  This comes as a surprise as the owner’s representative had discussed a normal “short haul” and return of the boat to the marina.  I called the client to inform him that the captain says the boat is going back into the water, to which he responds, “Well tell him no it is f**king not!”.  This is the first indication that this job would not be normal, and the last (of many) cuss words in this article that will be used.

While the initial response was off putting, I eventually realized, and you will see if you read the text thread, that this is a normal way for the client to communicate. 

I let buyers and sellers resolve issues like this.  The vessel was in fact launched and returned to the marina where the survey was completed.

The client came aboard the vessel at the marina, we gave a verbal debrief and concluded the job as normal. 

I inquired about payment and quoted the price.  The client responded with, “You’re spendy, send me an invoice and I will pay you with Zelle”.  I responded by describing the invoice details, $22 per foot times the length overall (35 feet) and $150 for a sea trial, our normal price.  There were no further discussions and I returned to our office.

All of the further communications were via text, though after several of the texts I tried unsuccessfully to switch to phone calls, 

Text thread follows.

Wed, Apr 5 at 8:09 AM

Client – “yo, they are waiting for you at xxx yacht club”

Kells – “Five minutes away, what marina?” (the “yacht club” is in name only, it is a sailing organization located at a marina)

Client – “Marina xxx I believe.  Google it!”

Kells – “Arriving”

Client – “done.  Howz the motor?”

Kells – “Has some moderate issues.”

Wed, Apr 5 at 3:04 PM

Client – “thanks for today, but your price is too high. First, no industry discount? Second, charging me for a sea trial is just a rip off.  You motored for 15 mins!  Please adjust accordingly”

Kells – “I feel the price is fair and the sea trial was worth doing.  You did not request a discount on the front side and are being charged what all out customers are charged”

Client – “everybody else in the industry knows who I am.  I don’t pay retail and I sure as fxxk am not paying for a sea trial that never happened” 

Kells – “Does everybody else in the industry like your business tactics? We will extend a discount for the sea trial as a courtesy and pay the parking fee”

Client – “ I usually don’t have to engage in this sort of horsesxxt with others.” 

Kells – “Me either.  Would have preferred to address it in person when I gave you the price.  We also need you to complete our agreement.”

Client – “Well now you know.  I am sick and feel like sh– and didn’t feel like arguing.  Knock $300 off and ill pay you today”

Kells – “I reduce the cost by $150 and I’m not charging you for the parking.  I am not going to reduce it any more.”

Client – “Charge me for parking? Are you high? $250 and we have a deal, otherwise, keep your survey.”

Kells – “I went to the marina at your request.  I asked the machine to not charge me because I was working for xxx.  It still charged me.  I don’t appreciate you wasting my day”  (okay a bit snarky on my part but I am human)

Client – “Your decision”

Kells – “No it is your demand for a discount after the fact”

Wed, Apr 5 at 6:14 PM

Client – “Do you want money or not? $700 today for the survey or fxxk off.”

Kells – “I want you to pay what is fair and feel your negotiation is unethical.  I will not support that behavior.  If you want the report which you requested, please sign the agreement and pay the invoice.  The price is fair.  Thanks”

Client – “What agreement?  What price?”

Kells – “We sent you an Adobe sign agreement to your email and a revised invoice.”

Client – “In the spirit of cooperation, ill pay $750 and not a penny more.  Revise the invoice, send me the survey and I will pay. Period. And if not, I don’t want to hear anything else about this.”

Kells – “If you want the survey, sign the agreement and pay the invoice.”

Client – “No thanks.  Please do not contact me again.”

Kells – “I hope you feel better and wish you well.”

Client – “What kind of idiot loses $750 over 20 bucks? Apparently you.  This is going to make a good story on xxx.” (the client is referring to a popular blog he writes)

Wed, Apr 5 at 6:14 PM

Client – “hey fxxkwit, I just found out you tried to rip me off! You charged $750 for another 105, which is exactly what I said I would pay.  And don’t give me any bullsh– about a sea trial – you didn’t do one!”

Kells – “We charge the same to all our clients”

Client – “wrong.  I have the fxxking invoice.”

Kells – “Our rates change over time, we currently charge $22/ft x loa and that is what we quote and charge for fiberglass boats under 60’. 

Kells – “You are mistaken if you think I did anything but charge you what I charge everybody.  We discussed the sea trial in advance, and you declined, the day before you changed your mind.  If you asked for a quote, you would have received exact numbers on your original invoice”

Client – “Fxxk if I did.  I NEVER wanted a sea trial and a fxxking motor to  the yard is not a sea trial. Im writing an article about this right now.  You fxxked up, assh—.  Now go the fxxk away.”  (I never looked for the article, but have not heard it was written second hand)

Thu, Apr 6 at 12:45 PM

Kells – “The rough draft is done, upon receipt of the agreement and payment I will complete it and send it to you. Please feel free to call with any questions.”

After the client signed the agreement and paid the invoice, he communicated with our office via email on Apr 10 at 1:50 PM

Client – “money sent via paypal.  I am expecting the survey today.”

Christian & Company Office Email – “The report is attached.  Thank you for your business.”

Client – “very good.  Thanks very much and apologies for the miscommunication best, xxx”

One of my children asked for my opinion on the failure of the sub, “Titan” and another suggested I write an article. They are influenced by their life experience of their father actively writing and regularly involved in forensic analysis of maritime accidents, some involving fatalities. It is not uncommon that I team up with engineers, naval architects and other experts tasked with forming an onion as to the cause of loss, and testify about those opinions.

I have not been involved with any submersible projects; “Sub for Sale” on Pawn Stars being the exception. Coincidentally this was also done at the request of my children (who were fans of the show) and is at the other end of the spectrum (in so many ways). 

I understand the maritime desire to explore and I hear the siren song. It is exciting to set sail for a new harbor, chart a course for the first time and to complete a voyage to that destination and be rewarded with a unique experience. Even simple voyages pay dividends. Trying to navigate a 45’ catamaran into Little Harbor, Catalina, going slightly off the beaten track to Anegada, BVI or stopping for lunch at Kopanyee, a floating city in the Andaman Sea and home of the Panyee FC. Though these are relatively simple adventures, they do have moments of exhilaration like dragging anchor toward a sheer rock bluff in the middle of the night, in a monsoon in the South Pacific or even picking up a mooring in close quarters and heavy winds at Avalon. It is rewarding to face a challenge and overcome it. Many humans enjoy the rush of adrenaline, some more than others.

As for the sub “Titan”, I have not done extensive research. I have read articles and watched news reports. Stockton Rush, one of the founders of OceanGate, used carbon fiber in its construction. This is a common construction material in our world. Titan had descended to the Titanic numerous times and had descended far deeper. Mr. Rush was a graduate of Princeton and U.C. Berkeley, was reportedly risk adverse, and clearly believed in the technology in which he perished. A group of other deep sea explorers have warned of problems and cited noncompliance with standards and some questionable use of carbon fiber. He had reportedly decided that compliance delayed progress.

An investigation has begun into the cause of the failure of Titan. Cutting edge exploration has an incredibly high cost. Think of the space shuttle “Challenger” and so many other aerospace projects. There will be lessons learned and technological advances.

No one can know if the juice is worth the squeeze, we all have our own opinion. Sometimes “treasure” is discovered in the outer reaches of space or the depths of the sea that benefits humanity to an extent worth this incredibly high cost. Sometimes it is just the Siren’s Song luring mariners. Risky exploration will continue.

RIP to the five souls aboard the Titan. My heartfelt condolences to all their family. A father and son were lost, such a sad event.

Just four days prior to the loss of the “Titan” sub, a migrant vessel rolled over in the Mediterranean, so far 80 bodies have been found and 500 people are missing and these tragedies are not uncommon. They were seeking a new life, like the passengers on the Nina, Pinta and Santa Maria. RIP to all of them. 

Vessel Damage Claim Mystery

Damaged Propeller

A significant part of our business is assisting with damage claims. Normally we are engaged by an insurance claims adjuster, with the task of determining the cause of loss, defining the scope of damage and assessing the cost to repair. Many times we need to solve a mystery or a puzzle to determine the cause of loss. This recent assignment was from an owner.
We thought it might be fun for you to try to solve one.

Background History

The photo above is the propeller at the heart of the puzzle. The owner purchased the vessel ten years ago and had new engines, propeller shafts, and propellers installed within the last two years. Due to performance issues, the propellers were modified after they were installed.

Event Details

The owner was operating this vessel just offshore the harbor entrance when he felt an “impact” and the starboard engine began vibrating. He inspected the starboard shaft on the interior of the vessel and noticed movement/vibration; he had no idea what had happened. He thought he may have “lost a bearing”. He attempted to get a diver to inspect the vessel but was unsuccessful. He filed an insurance claim based on advice from a mechanic and the vessel was hauled and inspected ten days later. I inspected it two weeks later, when it was hauled on its trailer. The significant findings follow pictorially (with some captions to help).

Figure One: Propeller blade’s break surface near hub

Figure Two: Second propeller blade, undamaged 

Figure Three: Third propeller blade, undamaged 

Figure Four: Strut, visibly bent

Have you jumped to any conclusions yet?
The propeller is missing one blade, the blade is broken near the hub and the other two blades exhibit no damage. The propeller and shaft spin freely, with the same amount of resistance as the undamaged propeller shaft of this twin engine vessel.
The insurance company denied the claim and the owner called me for a second opinion. Do you know what happened? What testing could be performed?

The Big Reveal

Don’t continue reading if you have not tried to solve the mystery and don’t want to know the answer yet.
The failure mode of the propeller is unusual and inconsistent with striking a submerged object. A propeller in good condition (in this case less than two years old) should not “lose a blade” due to striking a submerged object. Normally a propeller in motion that strikes a submerged object will contact the object with more than one blade and the edges of the blade(s) will bend or tear. This propeller likely failed due to a crack propagating through the blade or a similar weakness or flaw. The science that could be used in this case would be a metallurgical inspection, perhaps using a scanning electron microscope to determine the mode of failure. Sometimes the science nerds just tell us boat nerds the mode and we have to deduce the real world meaning and cause.
What about the bent strut? This installation includes only the strut for a bearing, a dripless shaft seal, and a hard coupled propeller to a transmission. Remember the propeller shaft spun easily. The strut was installed below a fuel tank before the liner was installed in the vessel and the cockpit covered the fuel tank. It is not an easy task to remove and reinstall the strut.

Here is one more hint.

Figure Five: Inboard aft motor mount, note position of the nut on the stud

Figure Six: Outboard aft motor mount, note position of the nut on the stud 

It is our opinion that the strut was bent prior to the failure of the propeller. The new engine and transmission were installed and aligned to the bent strut and nobody noticed the bent strut.
The aft two motor mount bolts and nuts show the likely uneven alignment, the other engine’s motor mount bolts are adjusted evenly.
It is unclear when, how or why the starboard strut was bent. The vessel is a limited production powerboat and it is possible that the strut was bent during the manufacturing process when it was found to be out of alignment. It is also possible that another event, perhaps a line wrapped around the propeller provided the force to bend the strut, but it is improbable and nearly impossible that striking a submerged object would have broken the propeller and bent the strut.
In addition to the findings above regarding the propeller, an properly aligned propeller shaft, between the transmission and strut, would no longer be aligned if the strut was bent (post alignment) and the shaft would either be bound or extremely difficult to turn. What further testing could be done? If an impact with the propeller had bent the strut, the force would have necessarily been transmitted through the propeller shaft. Pulling the propeller shaft and testing straightness with a dial indicator would show the existence of any bends and a bend at the propeller end of the shaft would prove such a force had been applied.
While neither of the inspections, metallurgical inspection of the propeller’s break surface or dial indication of the propeller shaft have been accomplished, the findings are relatively certain based on logic and experience.

I hope you enjoyed the mystery!

In my professional life as a marine surveyor and my personal life, including actively chartering catamarans in foreign countries, I regularly combine boating and travel.  “It’s not how you get into trouble”, I often tell my clients, “it’s how you get out that matters.”  Usually this sentiment applies to sea scenarios, but recently I was able to practice this technique on land.

I flew to the airport in San Jose del Cabo, Mexico on a Monday, for a new boat “warranty” inspection, also in San Jose del Cabo.  My intention was to complete the job that day and spend the night in Cabo San Lucas, enjoying the following day in the warm winter weather, before a late afternoon departure.  Upon arrival to the marina, I took a second job and my schedule changed, but I had already purchased a Cabo San Lucas hotel room for the night.

Maybe it was because I was in the least expensive hotel on the marina, maybe it was because the lights didn’t work in the hotel’s stairway, but for some reason I decided to store my passport in the room safe before leaving for dinner.  This is not a habit, I only do it occasionally and I briefly considered the consequences as I shut the safe door.

I was up early the next morning working on my laptop, not realizing that its clock did not adjust to the time difference.  When I realized that I would be late to the job, I packed quickly and rushed out of the hotel, still hoping to return for a few hours of relaxation.  The jobs took longer than expected and I decided not to make the 30-ish minute drive back to the hotel and instead arrived two hours early for my flight back to San Diego.  I entered the airport relaxed and told the rental car shuttle driver how good it felt to be early and stress free, then I reached into the passport pocket in my brief case.  Something slightly less than total panic but much more than worry quickly displaced the “I got plenty of time feeling”, as I remember the passport was in the safe.  One of my children was having a medical procedure early the next day and I was determined to get home.

Instantly I started considering my options, would my Sentri pass work, could I get my rental car back (and drive like “that guy”), how long would it take to get to my hotel and back?  I knew I had to make decisions quickly as the clock was running.  I told myself to stay calm, “you got this”.

There are two ways from the airport to Cabo San Lucas, a toll road and a free road with much more traffic.  I called the hotel and began the painfully long wait for them to locate the passport.  Mañana time is great for vacation, but does not go well with plane schedules.  I began negotiating with taxi drivers, it is hard to break old habits and I pride myself on this skill, but trying to negotiate in this situation proved futile.  My timing demand overpowered my ability to walk away casually (the show them your back gambit) and wait for the driver with the desire to match my needs.  I hired a taxi at full retail price.

Luckily I was able to charge my almost dead phone in the taxi as we headed towards the hotel on the toll road; I was still on hold with the hotel.  The toll road is mostly a two lane road with occasional passing lanes and has slow trucks, the elderly taxi driver, with good English skills, looked for opportunities to pass, but few came and he expressed his impatience in Spanish.  It became a comedy movie scene.  I tried to get the taxi driver to call the hotel, against his better judgment he tried, we almost wrecked.  One thing about driving and talking on the phone is you get better with practice.  He asked me to call the hotel for him, he had a Samsung phone, and again we almost wrecked while he brought up the dial screen for me.

Those of you who travel to Mexico regularly are familiar with the different phone numbers used for dialing mobile phones versus land lines or from foreign phones.  I travel there often and am aware of the differences, but don’t know them well enough to dial efficiently.  I have to fumble around with a “+1”, “01” or an area code and sometimes, miraculously, after many “that won’t work messages” in Spanish, I connect.  In this taxi I experienced all these problems.  “Keep cool”, I thought.  After twenty minutes I hung up on the hotel on my phone and called them back.  They had found my passport and given it to another taxi driver to head towards the airport.  Then cellular reception failed and briefly I thought I might.

I called the hotel again, while my driver continued toward the hotel, passing the exit to San Jose.  They gave me the passport taxi driver’s phone number, but of course, we were unsuccessful in our initial attempts to reach him from either phone.  Eventually I reached him on my phone but my Spanish was of little help.  I didn’t need “dos cervezas”, “la cuenta” o “el baño”, so I handed my phone to my driver.  I had to stifle myself from micro-managing their conversation, which I barely understood anyway.  We arranged a meeting point at a grocery store, between the two cities, near the exit we had passed a few miles back.  A u-turn on a toll road is possible in Mexico and saved time, a small victory, “I got this”.  We arrived to the meeting point first, the traffic was heavy on the free road, and again some doubt crept into my thoughts.

The passport taxi, blue van number “101”, arrived and I was waiting in the parking lot at the ramp from free the road.  The transfer was made and with some aggressive driving through the roundabout, yeah my driver was “that guy”, we were back on to the toll road in plenty of time to catch the plane.  My ability to check my bag of tools was less certain.  I often travel with tools and knew this might be another time I had to choose between keeping the tools or catching the flight, but this time I had a more urgent desire to fly.  The Mexican TSA could certainly use the hammer but the moisture meter would likely be useless to them.  Would I have to check my scope camera?  I returned to the airport less than 45 minutes before the flight and luckily they were not as rigid as most US airports have been recently. I was allowed to check the bag and was relieved that I had solved this minor self-imposed crisis with moderate stress and less than $200.

Whether it’s a boating challenge, a travel issue or life in general, I find it’s important to stay calm, rapidly assess options, pivot appropriately and believe in a positive outcome.  I had time and access to the airport lounge and chose a Jack and Coke as my reward.  I didn’t have time to drink it or the desire to chug it, so I requested and was pleasantly surprised with the offer of a red Solo to go cup.  The agent inquired as to its content as I passed through the gate and had one final smile when she allowed me to board with “my medicine”.

We are often racing during salvage operations, racing the tide, racing weather, and we’re always racing time. We have been active with salvage jobs during Covid and during a recent round of sea stories during a salvage in the Central California coast, I remembered a very interesting salvage boat “race”. As marine surveyors we usually represent insurance companies and insured’s interests during salvage operations. The historical basic concept of salvage is to reward a salvor for risking their health, life, and equipment in order to save someone else’s property, usually a vessel or cargo. In return for the risk, and usually based on the value saved and level of risk, the salvor is granted a reward.

Two decades ago a Catalina 42 left Southern California for Hawaii. Aboard were the owner, a friend of his, both in their sixties and two of their children, both about twenty. Right away the vessel began experiencing problems including water intrusion and somewhere approximately 100 miles off-shore there was a steering failure. Only one of the 20 year old’s was able to steer with the emergency tiller handle. A decision was made to abandon the vessel and all four passengers were retrieved by a Coast Guard helicopter. The EPIRB (acronym for emergency position indicating radio beacon) was activated. As a representative of the insurance carrier for the vessel we hired a salvage / tow boat to retrieve the vessel and initially had good location information from the EPIRB.

Just after we initiated the recovery of the vessel, we were alerted to a second salvage vessel underway in hopes of retrieving the Catalina and collecting the reward.

Initially I was dismayed and contacted the owner of the company who had dispatched the competitor salvage vessel. He responded that this was “only business” and “may the best boat win”. His boat was faster. I asked an authority, providing the EPIRB information if the location could be selectively provided, i.e. withheld from the competitor boat. I was denied. We, the good guys in my opinion, were not the favorites to win the race but with both tow boats racing toward the abandoned and adrift vessel, the EPIRB signal began to wane.

As the two tow boats approached the area in which the vessel was believed to be, its EPIRB became completely useless. We hired a spotter plane to assist our team and developed a communication protocol so they helped only our team. Without premeditation on the part of the land based team, the pilot of the plane, on his own, provided information to the competitor vessel. We later learned the information was inaccurate.

The hero salvage vessel won the race, found the Catalina 42 and returned it to its home port and its owner. Had the competitor vessel found it, they would have been granted a salvage reward for their effort but in this case instead, they got their just reward, a fuel bill.

Day 1              December 23, 2020

First day of symptoms, unusually low energy. Work from home.

Day 2              December 24, 2020

Initial symptoms continue, low energy, Christmas shopping.

Day 3              December 25, 2020

Not so merry Christmas. Symptoms increase, mild fever. Contact primary care provider to request Covid test – denied, did not meet testing requirements. In isolation, wife evacuates bedroom.

Day 4              December 26, 2020

Wife and I drive separate cars to Covid test site, take my fifth Covid test.  Contact clients scheduled for 12/28/20. Seller had Covid, buyer is Navy corpsman comfortable with exposure, both request that survey proceeds.

Day 5            December 27, 2020

Symptoms include mild body aches, prior symptoms persist.  Mental certainty that I have some medical condition, no breathing issues causes Covid questions to remain. Physically feel able to work.

Day 6             December 28, 2020

Mild symptoms continue, normal work day and mindset. Perform pre-purchase inspection of 40’ trawler including sea trial from Chula Vista to Shelter Island and back, receive positive diagnosis at the end of job, wife tests negative. Cancelled jobs scheduled that week and mental outlook shifts negatively.

Day 7              December 29, 2020

Work from home, symptoms persist. Heed CDC guidelines for isolation, requiring 10 days from first known symptom and 24 hours with no fever.

Day 8              December 30, 2020

Fever resides, optimism returns, wife tests positive and moves back into bedroom.

Day 9              December 31, 2020

Fever returns, mental state confused, doubt ability to ever survey a boat and write a report again. Skip a scheduled zoom party call, worse wedding anniversary ever.

Day 10            January 1, 2021

Symptoms persist, confirm proper medical care with niece (an active Covid nurse). Eat Hoppin’ John (black-eyed peas and rice dish), family tradition for good luck on New Year’s Day. Checked back that we missed this tradition in Bali on January 1, 2020.

Day 11            January 2, 2021

Awakened with no fever, mental acuity returns, work remotely for 3 hours. Cancelled golf outing scheduled for 1/3/21 and advise clients scheduled for 1/4/21 of current situation, all request job to proceed.

Day 12             January 3, 2021

Remain fever free, only symptom remaining is limited smell and taste, retest for Covid, all cleared for exiting quarantine per CDC guidelines.

Day 13          January 4, 2021

Awaken with clear head, no fever and symptoms abating, minor limited smell and taste, Covid test returns negative.  Survey Seamaster 46 sailboat in Ensenada.  Wife tests positive, low grade fever persists until January 8, 2021.

In an attempt to add interesting detail and color to the daily Covid journal, I’m providing relevant family and business history. My wife and I have three 20-something children and a 30-something nephew (and marine surveyor) living in a split level 5-bedroom home. Our room abuts the main living room, dining room and kitchen on the upper level. The children have bedrooms on the lower level. The living room and dining room include large tri-fold doors which open to a deck.

Our family has been fairly Covid aware and cautious, wearing masks, staying socially distant and in a relatively small “germ pod”. The first few months I wiped down the common areas every morning before anyone else arose.

We have a Sunday night family dinner tradition which usually includes guests. Initially this was suspended but utilizing the indoor / outdoor style of our dining room, the Sunday dinners were resumed during Covid. Often visiting 20-somethings and also the more “exposed” children sat outside, while the more at risk humans would stay inside.

Marine inspection protocols were developed which included mask wearing, distancing as possible, ventilation and common sense.

Our business paused when the first lockdown occurred but quickly rebounded due to an unexpected and unprecedented surge in demand for boats. Business and vacation travel was significantly curtailed, resuming with a family trip in November to visit elderly parents. We all tested negative prior to departure and twice during the travel.

Business travel resumed with a day trip to La Paz, Mexico in early December and 5-day trip to Mazatlán beginning December 16, 2020. Both trips included use of the cross border express a walking bridge to the Tijuana airport. We missed the scheduled flight to Mazatlán after arriving at the Cross Border Express 1.5 hours before the scheduled 5:30 am flight, primarily due to the line to check luggage (tools) combined with a crush of vacation travelers. The missed flight caused many hours in the airport. I was  accompanied by my wife on the trip, we both wore double masks, the flight was full.

The Mazatlán job was a pre-purchase inspection of a 2016 107-foot class built and maintained steel luxury expedition type motor vessel with an asking price of over $10,000,0000. We shared one meal with the crew in the galley and spent two nights socializing with friends in Mazatlán. Alcohol softened my Covid defenses.

On the day I received my positive Covid diagnosis I was surveying a 1977 fiberglass Marine Trader 40 trawler in San Diego with asking price of less than $50,000.

Both survey jobs were normal, Covid protocols were mostly adhered to with the exception of travel.

After having a fever in conjunction with other minor symptoms I began isolation, including only briefly and remotely attending Christmas dinner.

Medically we consulted with a close friend of the family who is a doctor and an active Covid nurse. We stayed hydrated by forcing fluids, took extra vitamin C, D, zinc and one aspirin per day. We regularly checked our temperatures and oxygen levels (with a pulse oximeter). We ate three regular meals even though our appetites were reduced. Some of the meals were s

mall and some of the low energy levels may have been related to limited caloric intakes. We rested extensively, tried to get vertical and move around / take a short walk each day and tried to return to positive mental health, a challenging aspect of the disease on many days.

All four children tested negative twice subsequent to my positive diagnosis and were a god-send in their support during the brief voyage through the corona virus.

I have no intention of providing any advice including medical, travel or behavior. We received many wishes and three delicious and appreciated pots of soup from friends. I received many inquiries as to the experience and its severity and thus was motivated to produce this account.

I also have no illusions that our experience is typical, and am eternally grateful for the relatively mild symptoms, intend to continue exercising caution and remembering the unfortunate families who suffered far more significantly in this crisis.

The vessel is a 1939 100’ Camper & Nicholson sloop. It was built in Gosport, England and was reportedly purposely sunk during World War II to prevent it from being damaged. After the war it was raised and put into its designed purpose as a “proper gentlemen’s” yacht, it was raced extensively and it entertained extravagantly.

Its ½” teak planks are bronze bolt fastened onto steel frames and the lines of the vessel are truly classic.

My job was to determine the condition of the basic structural components, as a restoration project had begun a decade prior and had been aborted. My client is an Australian interested in restoring the classic yacht to its previous glory.

The vessel is tall, no ladder or scaffolding structure had been erected and thus I was lifted onto the vessel with a mechanical “cherry picker”. I had a lot to do and requested a “pickup” three hours after I was deposited on the deck.

The vessel is in rough condition as a result of the aborted restoration project and the decade of neglect. As is my custom in situations like this, I carefully proceed as I may encounter hazardous conditions, open hatches, deteriorated soles, corroded supports etc…

As I entered the port V.I.P. cabin, I noted a hatch in the sole which was partially covered by the cabin door. As I swung the cabin door shut, to access the hatch, I noticed there was no knob on the inside of the door. Great!… Brilliant!… Idiot!… Oh crap!…were all thoughts that went through my head as a realized I was locked in a cabin, in the far corners of a boat yard, high up on an old project boat that had been around the boat yard for a decade. It was unlikely I would be able to contact anyone directly if I needed help escaping. I knew the cherry lift operator would return eventually and of course, I had my mobile telephone as a back up plan.

I attempted to open the door using a wooden hanger, bent and clamped around the square stem for the door knob. I couldn’t turn the latch but I was able to push the stem of the handle out of the door, so it was no longer accessible.

Plan two developed quickly as I noted a bilge access hatch which was open. As fate would have it I was unable to lift the hatch that I had closed the door to access. The bilge hatch was small and I did not think I could fit through it. I thought about becoming stuck or lodged in the hatch and decided I would keep my mobile phone at the ready in case my embarrassing predicament was increased by getting stuck trying to escape.

I was amazed at how easily it was to fit through this relatively small hatch and I was quickly (and luckily) able to extricate myself from the predicament.

Of course, this is not the first time, that hatches and hatch covers have presented problems in my career.
An unsecured lazarette hatch once fell and struck the back of my head. The impact from the hatch did nothing but my instinctual flinch caused the front of my head to strike the hatch edge, resulting in ten stitches above my right eye.

I once became trapped in the head of a relatively small express cruiser during a sea trial. The door latch mechanism malfunctioned after I had entered it and though others aboard the vessel were not far from me, they likely mistook my knocking for help as normal percussion testing, which had been ongoing throughout the survey. Eventually they did come and rescue me after I patiently waited on the only available seat.

A few basic safety lessons I have learned regarding hatches, doors and openings in the decks and soles of vessels:

1. Announce that you are removing any deck or sole hatch to everyone around and if possible provide a watch to prevent anyone from falling in the open hole. This is all the more important with a greater number of passengers.
2. When entering a hatch or any enclosed space opening, take precautions to prevent reductions in your options for egress. i.e. make sure the door or hatch stays open. Even though a hinged hatch seems to be securely open, a rocking boat can change the gravitational influence and shut the hatch. Some hatches latch or lock when they are shut.
3. Follow confined space protocol to maintain health and safety, consider possibilities for slippery surfaces, low oxygen levels, sudden change of lighting conditions and whether the benefit of entering that space is worth the risk.

When we enter spaces such as tanks or barge holds, we have the area inspected by a chemist and declared safe for entry. We also maintain a watch while we are in the area, so that assistance can be rendered if/as needed for any unexpected occurrence.