This two-part article, published earlier this year in Yachting Monthly and reproduced here by kind permission of the editor, Andrew Bray, and the author, takes a look at rescues from a yachtsman's point of view and asks how crews should prepare themselves for when help arrives. Des Sleightholme was himself editor of Yachting Monthly for many years and he and three lifeboatmen make some invaluable observations.THE IDEA for this article came from reading accounts of services to yachts in THE LIFEBOAT. It seemed to me that yacht crews in many cases could have done much to ease their own rescue by having some idea of what might be expected of them. Classic mistakes were securing a heaving line instead of hauling in the towrope attached to it and leaving a tangle of rigging over the side to menace lifeboat propellers.

No single set of rules will suffice though; all services are different. Coxswain Dave Kennett of Yarmouth lifeboat sums this up. 'Crew capabilities vary, weather, sea and currents vary, urgency varies and there may be dismasting, fire, loss of rudder, injury or sickness requiring a doctor on the spot (half his crew are first-aiders), or cliff rescue, an SAR helicopter or the use of breeches buoy may be involved.' Yacht crews also vary in terms of exhaustion, sickness and morale. Sometimes the only competent people aboard are incapacitated. I wrote four fictional accounts of Mayday incidents and made my own suggestions as to what the four yacht crews might have been able to do to assist. Then I submitted a copy to the editor of THE LIFEBOAT, who in turn sought opinions at RNLI HQ and sent further copies to coxswains on different parts of the coast, namely to Dave Kennett of Yarmouth, loW, Griff Jones of Porthdinllaen and Ian Johnson of Troon. Copies were also sent to the Royal Air Force at High Wycombe and to the Royal Naval Air Station, Culdrose.

In the following fictional narratives concerning Matthew, Mark, Luke and John, I give my own footnotes and those of the experts who responded magnificently. My very sincere thanks to them all.

Matthew.

At first he thought they might reach the shelter of North Foreland which lay due west and dead to windward as the 30ft yacht slammed into the rising sea under full engine, but finally Matthew knewthat the distant winking lights were as distant as ever. Aloft the jammed and partly-rolled headsail threshed deafeningly, shaking the whole boat. Earlier, he and Jack had tried beating under engine, but the badly-rolled mainsail and their inability to sheet home the headsail and its overpowering size in the Force 6-7 conditions defeated them.

To leeward lay the busy shipping lanes and shoals and broken water beyond; to port was the Dover Strait and to starboard the maze of the Thames Estuary—which Matthew could have coped with had he been able to get at the chart, but Jack lay below groaning with seasickness, uncaring. A fresh squall of wind brought a blinding murk of rain and he knew that the forecast gale had arrived. They were in trouble.

It was time for a Mayday call.

Having given his approximate position, he must try to maintain position. Should he also try to spur Jack into action, brutally if necessary, before he himself becomes exhausted for lack of relief? The boat could drift miles to leeward if the helm is left unmanned. The rescue will probably involve a lifeboat tow, and he may be called on VHP to show flares. When the lifeboat does arrive (it may be a couple of hours or more), he should keep motoring head to wind so that the lifeboat can come up on his quarter to put a crewman aboard to attach the tow. The odds are that he and Jack will remain aboard while the crewman takes over.

Griff Jones comments: Matthew should tell the lifeboat if he is having trouble coping alone rather than try to attach.