Now that the excitement of one of the Chicago to Mackinac's fastest races and accompanying storm has subsided, it would seem necessary to clarify the events that led to the 44 foot trimaran Caliente's capsizing and rescue of her crew. For the record the boat's owner is Michael Steck, Winfield, Il. Crewmembers were Trey Ritter, Libertyville, Il., Bruce Warthen, Libertyville, Il., Tim Doran, Grays Lake, Il., Patrick Tierney, Evanston, Il., and Mark Muehler, Homer Glen, Il.
At about 8:30 p.m. Eastern Standard Time the Caliente rounded Shoal Buoy #3 into the Straits of Mackinac some 30 miles from the finish. Wind direction was from the southwest and boat speed 10-12 knots. No other racing boats were in view. The only vessel was a freighter approaching from behind and to the west. A starboard jibe removed the Caliente from the freighters course. The western sky began looking ominous. After a brief discussion, sail reduction was commenced by first furling the screacher. In less than a minute the storm was upon the multihull with wind speeds later reported as high as 90 m.p.h. Whether a microburst was involved is inconclusive, however, the force of the wind that flattened her fully eased mainsail seemed consistent with such a metrological phenomena. Upon releasing the mainsheet, Muehler turned to see the screacher half furled and the remaining portion of the sail flying unsheeted in the wind. The bow was digging into the water much like a submerging submarine. Within a few brief seconds the Caliente sounded what appeared to be a soft groan and rolled to port. When the trimaran's heel approached 90 degrees, three crewmembers (Doran, Tierney, and Muehler) fell into the water. Steck retreated to the boat's main cabin where he later exited through an escape hatch purposely designed for a capsizing. Something from the over turning boat caught Warthen's inflatable life vest or attached tether and pulled him under. Rather than attempting to untangle, he unclipped the vest and after surfacing, swam to the boat. Ritter stayed close to the boat and quickly returned aboard the overturned vessel. Of the three on the port side, Tierney made it back to the boat and climbed aboard utilizing the bow sprint.
Doran had a Musto life vest that was inadequate to keep him afloat. He called to Muehler who swam to his rescue. By the time the two men were joined, the Caliente had drifted about 30-40 feet and was being pushed by the wind faster than the two could close ground. At that point, the drifting sailors realized their rescue depended on the Coast Guard receiving a signal from one of the two 406 EPIRBs which Steck deployed upon capsizing. Muehler was wearing a self-inflating Mustang life vest that seemed to keep the two buoyant, although with 5-7 foot waves crashing on top of them they swallowed considerable amounts of lake water. After 15-20 minutes the wind subsided and the waves calmed to 2-4 feet, but the men were still taking in water and somewhat terrified by the thought that drowning is possible even in a life preserver! Fast approaching darkness added to Muehler and Doran's concern over their peril. After a half hour of drifting, the separation between them and the boat exceeded _ mile and the two lost sight of the overturned craft.
Aboard the Caliente, Tierney was able to cut the netting and retrieve a calamity bag carried for just such a situation. A flare was fired and a may day call broadcasted over a waterproof hand held VHF radio. Doran and Muehler's spirits were revived when they saw the flare. They hoped other vessels would soon respond to the distress signal. By now it was dark enough for them to use their strobe light. Within a short time, the two could see lights approaching, which they mistakenly perceived to be the Coast Guard. Actually, it was a Canadian freighter illuminating the night with a powerful search beacon. The sailors were perplexed at the distance the vessel maintained from them. After the rescue, the two learned they had drifted into shallower water beyond reach of the freighter. The crewmen on the Caliente had seen Muehler's strobe light and notified the freighter of the drifting men's position. When the freighter directed its search beam on the Caliente, Muehler and Doran were amazed to see the capsized vessel only a few hundred yards away. The Caliente's mast had lodged on the shallow bottom preventing her from further drifting. Soon after, the crew of the freighter sighted the two in the water and steadied a beam to aid the racing vessel Kokomo, a Schock 55, with the recovery.
Doran and Muehler spent 90 minutes in the water. Fortunately, the lake water was uncommonly warm (nearly 70 degrees). Neither man felt hypothermia to be a significant danger up to that point. Doran's strength was sapped clinging to Muehler and the two were taking in perilous amounts of water right up to their rescue. The Kokomo then proceeded to recover the remainder of the crew aboard the capsized Caliente. All were united below with dry sleeping bags and hot food. The superb effort of Kokomo's crew has since been appropriately recognized. In retrospect, much that was done in compliance with the Chicago Yacht Club's safety requirements avoided what could have been a tragic loss of life. The EPIRBs, and especially the calamity bag with flares and radio, as well as knives carried by each crewmember, were critical in the successful recovery.
Ron owns a F-31 trimaran and is on the Chicago Yacht Club Mackinac race committee. 296 yachts including 14 Multihulls started the 289nm 2002 Chicago Mackinac Race on Saturday July 20th . The Multihull fleet included 7 F-31's, 2 F-25C's, 1 F-28, 1 Gougeon 35, 1 Crowther 38, 1 Crowther 45 and a new Chris White 44 (Caliente).
The forecast promised a fast race with winds starting out of the southwest at 10 to 12 kts clocking to the southwest and then to the north over the course of the race to a top of 35 kts. A front was promised for Sunday evening with thunderstorm activity from the northwest. The multihull start was at 14:00 just ahead of the PHRF 1 boats including Roy Disney's 78 ft turbo sled and the Great Lakes 70's. It was a screacher start with about 12 kts of boat speed. Over the next couple of hours the wind clocked slightly south and built, bringing out the spinnakers. Late in the afternoon we had a 2 hour stretch of 15 to 20 knot reaching, leaving all but the 70's behind. Overnight winds settled in out of the south, light for a while and building later, taking us well east of the rhumline. I went off watch at about 3:00 Sunday morning, having maintained 12 to 15 kts of boat speed over the prior couple of hours with VMG of 10 to 12 knots.
We had waited for years for this kind of Mac conditions aboard Stampede, my F-31. Over the next couple of hours the wind continued to build to 25 plus kts. The boat was flying. At about 5:30 I was abruptly thrown from my berth and awakened by the words "we're in trouble" from the cockpit. The boat was healed over at about 45 degrees. I scrambled to the cockpit and blew off every sheet and tackline. The boat reached about 85 degrees, with the mast spreader in the water and the outboard motor submerged. Miraculously, with the sails un-loaded the buoyancy of the submerged ama started to lift us back on our feet. Once upright the spinnaker was flying above the mast. We were able to grab the sheet and bring the big red chute to the deck. We put up the jib, made some oatmeal and got our heads back in the game. Steve Freeman summed it up the best saying "all in all it's a pretty good morning. I still have all my fingers and I've seen God!"
Talking it over here's what went wrong. The helmsman started fighting weather helm followed by no helm. The main needed to be unloaded to deal with the weather helm. When steering down the stern was coming out of the water creating no helm. The tack of the spinnaker was within a foot of the bowsprit. Easing the tack off about 6 feet flies the spinnaker higher, lifting the bows and keeping the stern in the water. Crew position was also wrong, with two below deck getting some sleep. All weight needed to be outboard and aft to balance the loads. For the balance of the race we followed this protocol and were able to maintain 15 to 20 kts of boat speed with a light helm. Over the next 12 hours the winds stayed at 25 to 35 kts out of the south/southwest. Following seas built to about 8 feet. What a ride! Boat speed was consistently at 15 to 20. We ran deeper than I have ever run with an asymmetric. A little scary at times with no way to run off a gust. Spinnaker trim was a little tough, getting blanketed by the main periodically. Suppose we could have run 5 degrees higher with a 6 foot rudder, guess it's the boats way of telling us we're at the limit!
At 19:30 Sunday evening we were approaching Gray's Reef Passage where the fleet turns east to make the last 22 nm dash to the finish. The promised thunderstorms appeared to be forming to the west. Winds were out of the southwest at 25 to 30 kts. A rolling sausage cloud appeared on the horizon with a sharp delineation in the clouds, like a zipper, just ahead of it. We took the spinnaker down and secured the jib to the deck with bungees, the mainsail being left up. The air temperature took a drop and we could see the oncoming wind-line with whitecaps. Behind it was a second wind-line with the wave tops being blown off, a sign of 50 plus knots of wind! When the first wind hit we recorded 49 knots and took it nearly head to wind, then phase two. Water and hail were pelting us and visibility was zero. We estimated wind speeds at 65 knots (the Coast Guard later told me that 70 knots was recorded and that the cloud tops were at 90,000 feet) The rig and main shook so hard that I thought the rig was going to come down. The rig stayed up but the main lost a 2' by 2' piece at the top leach reef cringle. As the front passed the wind subsided and the lightning started up with a vengeance, 20 to 30 bolts at a time! It's one of those moments when you might as well take it in and enjoy the spectacle, it's not like we could hide in the basement and wait it out. With the winds subsiding we put the chute back up and were miraculously able to trim the main, even with a gaping hole in the leach.
When the storm hit, Caliente was about 2 nm ahead of our position, having rounded Gray's Reef and now heading east toward the Island. From our view we saw a red parachute flare followed by mayday calls from Caliente on the radio and then a second red parachute (the SOLAS variety, a Mac Race requirement). A nearby freighter was the first to respond, having turned 180 degrees and returned to the scene of the capsize to assist. Moving slowly, we attempted to start our motor to provide assistance, but were unable to do so. The outboard apparently didn't like its Sunday AM baptism. Caliente had 6 total crew, 4 with the boat and two in the water together drifting helplessly away. With the freighter coordinating the rescue, Kokomo, a Schock 55 was the first race boat on the scene and successfully recovered all six crew, about 90 minutes after the capsize. The efforts of everyone were heroic, the place where Caliente was adrift is a shoal and the freighter drew 27 feet. Without his search lights, locating the crew in the water would have been nearly impossible, the personal strobes being underwater much of the time. One of the two in the water had a Musto Crewsaver (now known as Crewdrowner) life-vest on. The buoyancy of this inshore vest was insufficient to support the individual and his foul weather gear and sea boots. His life was saved by Mark Mueller who was wearing a 35 lb inflatable vest that was sufficient to support both of them, albeit with struggle, until rescue. Mark reports that they only had about 10 minutes left in them when they were picked up.
The Caliente crew reports that they had the full main up and a partially rolled screacher and were running from the squall. As was the case with many other more fortunate competitors they expected much less than the 60 to 70 kts of wind in the system. They reported about 8 to 10 kts of boat-speed when the wind hit and a very slow pitch-pole. Other Assorted Mayhem Colt 45: This Santa-Cruz 70 was leading the fleet of GL 70's past the bridge to the Island with full main and spinnaker, expecting 45 kts of wind, not a problem for a 70 footer dead down. When the gust hit the stern was lifted about 20 feet in the air followed by a violent broach, and a second violent broach. The boom was broken in half, spinnaker destroyed and cut free and a 2 foot hole fractured in the deck around the mast. Helmsman Bob Declercq says he doesn't know how the mast stayed up. Winddancer, a Nelson-Merick 68 had her mast twisted in two. It miraculously stayed up, but they dropped all sail and withdrew. Sassy, a Holland 78 was dismated. In total there were 5 reported dismastings. Merloe, an F-31 lost their furled screacher over the bow while trying to take it down while running ahead of the squall. It dragged under the boat and they were forced to amputate the sail about 3 feet from the bowsprit. While bringing down the main it un-furled and was dragging and flogging in the water and was similarly cut free and dumped over the side. They won the multihull division finishing under jib. Meade Gougeon's Adagio (35 ft tri) was under full main and crossed the finish line doing 33 kts! Meade and brother Jan thought it would be there last race together on this earth. Meade cut the main sheet to release the main. As it slammed into the capshrouds the battens were all broken reducing sail area about 25%. Sort of a high speed reef. Of the 296 yachts that started the Race, 15 were forced to withdraw.
The biggest difference between a monohull broach and a multihull capsize is that the broach is a religious experience, a capsize is that, plus a media event. The same mental and judgement errors get us there, but in the case of a multihull we get no second chance (OK, most of the time). Preparing to survive a capsize is critical, and in the Detroit Free Press Caliente's owner thanks the Mac Committee for the safety requirements that specify a multihull calamity pack with SOLAS flares, handheld VHF, EPIRB and other emergency gear. The absence of this safety equipment in an accessible location would probably have resulted in the deaths of two crew. Only two multihulls had all sails down when the squall struck, Matt Scharl's F-25C, Gamera and Irving DeRoeck's Crowther 45, Cathexis. 79 year old Irving commented to me after the race about all of us "brave guys" with sails up. It occurred to me that I have never met a 79 year old brave guy. Next time mine will be down.
Multihulls are wonderful boats but they demand our respect. There is no place for the arrogance of superiority. The flat reality is that we have had three capsizes on the Great Lakes in just over a year, and all could have been prevented. It would take 20 years of Mac Races to have as many multihull miles as the 282 monohulls in this year's race completed. Always keep the following in mind: Prepare for the worst, sail smart so you won't have to test the theory. Reduce sail early. It's much easier to put 'em back up than to take down a shredded one. The boat won't sail well upside down, and trimming an inverted main is a bear! When sailing hot ALWAYS keep the sheets in your hand. They're your rip-cord. Always monitor channel 16. If there is an alternate race channel, use dual watch. I am astounded by the number of competitors that had no idea there was an emergency because they didn't have the radio on. We all depend on each other. Test your buoyancy gear & make sure it floats you with all of your heaviest gear on.