Big Point Sable, Lake Michigan: When the 28-foot Coast Guard inflatable slid down the wave’s back side, its bow scooped up a shipload of water which exploded across the deck blasting out the cabin window. The two man crew stood in knee-high water as they fought to de-water the boat. The coxswain, BM1 Jeff George, made an urgent radio call for help to a nearby Coast Guard motor life boat which was assisting the sail boat Bittersweet.

With wind and seas driving the disabled sail boat, Bittersweet, towards shore, Chief Reed ordered the crew to haul in the towing line they were passing to her. Reed decided with coasties possibly in the water they took higher precedence than preventing the sail boat from entering the surf. It’s one of those split second decisions extracted from years of experience. Those on the sail boat at least were afforded the protection of the boat; if the coasties hit the water, they had but themselves to deal with the raging surf.

Fortunately, the crew of the 28-foot inflatable stabilized the boat, allowing Chief Reed to pound back to the Bittersweet which was racing towards shore. This was it, either he hooked it up now, or it would be a bittersweet ending for 32-foot sloop.

Let me pause here for a minute to make a point. It reads here like it is all so under control. Believe me, it was not. Chief, Reed, was dealing with a violence that bore down on the 20-ton rescue boat and tore at his crew strapped to the superstructure with life harnesses. The violent assault tested their every skill and then some. Here countless hours of training delivered life-saving dividends. Hands worked throttles and wheel, eyes darted to the sea, back to the sloop, commands become yells over the uproar , body’s jerked and twisted, diesel engines screamed, the 3/16 inch steel hull shuttered as it blasted skyward, and all the while time tore at nerves. Make one error and it has you- like that. It takes tremendous focus to keep focused. And it’s not just your own survival you must deal with, but others; that’s the greatest pressure.

Reed’s crew again successfully worked the tow line over to the sloop. The crewman flapping about on the sloop’s bow pulpit looked like a rag doll being jerked about in the mouth of mischievous canine. The MLB’s depth finder read fifteen feet and within yards loomed the sand bar. The crewman fought to attach the eye of the tow line but the seas denied him the opportunity. Reed gave the order to haul in the line. The sloop was on its own.

The sea took little time in having its way: within minutes it dumped the sloop onto shore. Miraculously, the captain and crewman walked away. Were they lucky? You bet! To give you an idea of the sea height, later when the seas settled down the sloop sat so high and dry that you could walk around it without nearing water. Yes, they were lucky.

So what’s the bittersweet lesson here? Well, it really comes down to are the little things. For instance, when the captain attempted to make port at Ludington, he couldn’t read the light characteristics of the pierhead lights. He told me later that he had reading glasses aboard but they were stowed in a forward cabin but didn’t want to leave the helm because of the weather. He did carry an autopilot aboard but heavy weather prevented its use.

Later, when he ran into real nasty stuff, he couldn’t deploy the smaller staysail because it was torn. And the head sail would have been too much for those conditions. Moreover, his fatigued state dictated that he stay harnessed to the helm seat. By the way, he was steering the heavy boat with a tiller, not a wheel, which only added to his fatigue.

As for the main sail, the rigging atop the mast had separated, which reduced the effectiveness of that sail; reefing was out of the question. As far as motoring into the seas or running before them, the 13-ton sloop’s 36 horsepower, Volvo MD3B diesel engine lacked the power. The sloop did carry an anchor but it was only a 16-pound Danforth type anchor. The captain told me he lost his 40 pound anchor in the Mississippi near Saint Louis. Besides, it’s doubtful he could’ve deployed an anchor in those seas.

So as the little things accumulated, Lake Michigan with willful delight took full advantage and delivered a bittersweet lesson. It was kind, however, in that it dumped the sloop onto a sandy beach. At worst, the 70 year-old captain received a $8,500 salvage bill. It took two tugs and special beach equipment to remove the sloop.

Will the captain sail again? According to him- yes. Traverse Bay, and the Manitou Islands are within near sight, with the eastern seaboard and Europe on the horizon. As he said: "His sailing trip has been very boring at times and very interesting. Unfortunately it got too interesting."

Who needs such thrills? Boat Smart.

**** Boat Smart is now on the Internet: www.boatsmart.net (includes Lake Michigan water temperatures and local weather).

Use channel 16 for emergencies, and channel 9 for calling fellow boaters.