When a January storm savaged a sail training crew and their yacht, a lifeboat headed to their aid – but in these violent conditions, what could the RNLI volunteers do to help?

Keen sailor Patrick Smart planned an exciting start to 2012 – he and six other crew stepped aboard a 12m sail training vessel on the afternoon of 2 January, planning to sail to the London Boat Show. It was a journey they are unlikely to forget. Most of the crew were, like Patrick, amateur sailors keen to get more experience. Patrick soon faced a steep learning curve. ‘On the first night we had quite big waves and a force 6–7 wind,’ recalls Patrick. ‘I was on the helm in the evening and it was difficult to steer.’

As the yacht headed past the Sussex coast, the Winter wind blew harder, the waves grew, and many of the crew started to suffer from seasickness. ‘I was so ill I could not move from my bunk,’ says Veronica Bower-Feek. When Patrick’s stint at the wheel ended at midnight, he handed the helm over to a fellow crew member and tried to get some rest. But sleep would be impossible. ‘During this time the sea became violent. I was being flung from one side of the cabin to the other.’

By the early hours of the morning, most of the crew were suffering from such severe seasickness that they could not help to sail the yacht. As they neared Dungeness Point off the Kent coast, the yacht’s skipper radioed Dover Coastguard and reported that his crew were incapacitated and his yacht was struggling in the horrendous conditions. Shortly before 5.30am, the Coastguard requested Dungeness lifeboat to head to the yacht.

Fury of the elements
Crew Member Garry Clark woke with a start at 5.30am. ‘I scrambled into some clothes and headed to the station,’ says Garry. ‘It was a wild night.’ Deputy Second Coxswain Mark Richardson was the duty coxswain at the time: ‘I picked experienced crew, and one more than usual, given the conditions.’

Minutes later the Dungeness Mersey class lifeboat Pride and Spirit slid off her carriage and powered through the surging dark surf, away from the illuminated shingle beach. With Mark at the helm, Mechanic Trevor Bunney operated the navigation and communications equipment. Garry fired up the radar. The rest of the crew – Deputy Second Coxswain Roger Gillett and Crew Members Simon Collins, Terence Ashford and Jeff Henderson – prepared searchlights, tow ropes and first aid equipment.

As the lifeboat crew headed into the open sea, they felt the full fury of the elements: a south westerly storm force 10. But they pressed on and, at 6.15am, found the yacht being blown north east by the powerful gusts.

Rogue wave
Suddenly, as the lifeboat drew alongside, an enormous wave swept up behind both vessels. A wall of water smashed the yacht helmsman against the yacht’s wheel, which was twisted out of position. Patrick was washed off his feet. ‘All this water rushed past me and went in my boots – I thought I was in the sea,’ he recalls. Veronica, who was in the cabin under the hatch at the time, was soaked to the skin too. ‘It was like a whole swimming pool being dumped onto your head. I thought we had capsized. All I could hear was screaming.’

Those screams were coming from the yacht helmsman, who suffered face and rib injuries when the wave hit. The skipper managed to send a mayday broadcast using what was left of the radio equipment, and then Veronica helped him bring the helmsman down to the cabin and into a sleeping bag. The lifeboat hadn’t escaped from the wave unscathed either. A torrent of water had flooded through engine vents. Trevor, who was also in charge of communications, reacted immediately, pumping the water out.

At the wheel, Mark Richardson decided to try and get two crew members aboard the yacht, which was now in serious danger. The steering and sails were damaged and her engine was useless in the conditions. Left unchecked, her course could take her ashore in the storm, if she stayed afloat that long. Her crew members were shocked, cold, very seasick and, in the helmsman’s case, injured. Garry Clark and Jeff Henderson prepared to jump. But in the conditions, the Coxswain had to abandon his approach for fear of colliding with the yacht.

Instead, Mark skilfully brought the lifeboat close enough to pass a tow rope to the skipper, who secured it to a rigged bridle. But in the confused seas the bridle chafed and the tow parted, leaving the yacht at the mercy of conditions that became even more vicious. Winds were gusting up to violent storm force 11.

Down in the yacht’s cabin, the crew members were afraid for their lives. ‘One of the crew was so terrified that she sent a goodbye text message to her daughter,’ says Veronica. ‘I had called my partner and said there was a good chance we were not going to survive.’ On deck, Patrick was clinging on for his life. ‘I couldn’t help thinking “what are the lifeboat crew going to do?”. They are not martyrs, they can’t do a miracle. But then I heard a clatter and a voice behind me say “alright there fella?”.

Leap of faith
The voice belonged to Garry Clark. After the tow parted, Coxswain Richardson had approached the yacht’s stern on a surging wave, Garry saw his chance and leapt aboard. ‘He was very brave,’ says Coxswain Richardson. ‘Not everyone would jump when faced with that.’

For the first time in hours, Patrick felt safe. ‘I don’t know how Garry jumped aboard in those conditions. But he took control and knew exactly what to do.’ Veronica adds: ‘I saw his face at the hatch and that was the first time I thought we might survive.’ Checking on the crew’s condition, Garry found that the helmsman – although bleeding and in pain – was conscious and talking well.

This reassured Garry enough to focus on attaching a new tow rope, while large waves continued to hit the yacht. ‘Even when I was a fisherman I had never seen seas like that,’ says Garry. ‘I was wondering if it could blow any harder.’

Garry’s fellow lifeboat crew members were wondering the same thing – especially when a huge wave broke over the lifeboat, washing Terence Ashford partially overboard. Jeff Henderson grabbed his crew mate to prevent him falling into the sea, and the pair struggled to their feet.

In the meantime Dover all-weather lifeboat crew headed to the scene to help out with the planned tow. As they approached, with Deputy Second Coxswain James Clapham at the helm, Garry was battling to tie a knot in the yacht bridle, which had been damaged by the last big wave. At this point, the tow rope was slack, and another huge wave sent the yacht over it. This caused another serious problem – the rope got tangled up with the yacht’s keel and rudder.

‘That was probably the most dangerous point,’ says Garry, who was forced to cut the rope to avoid the yacht being dragged backwards by the lifeboat. ‘I was starting to think about evacuating everyone by whatever means, because going ashore would have been lethal.’

Sheer strength
Plans to try and get the yacht into Dover were now scuppered: the port was closed due to the foul weather. In between attempts to take more tow rope from both lifeboats, Garry and the yacht’s skipper used sheer strength to bend the damaged wheel back to a position where it could be turned. This gave them enough control over the yacht to drift past Dover and into a more sheltered area of sea. Able to stand up for the first time in hours, Garry headed below deck and checked on the crew again. The helmsman was in a lot of discomfort, so Garry requested Entonox to relieve the pain, which was thrown over to the yacht from the Dungeness lifeboat.

The helicopter crew of Rescue 125 set off from RAF Wattisham, planning to take off anyone who needed medical attention. That was easier said than done. Even though Garry managed to cut away a blown-out foresail that would have been a hazard to the winchman, the rigging of the swaying yacht and the storm force winds made for a hazardous helicopter approach. But, with Garry tending to a highline passed down from the aircraft, the winchman eventually managed to reach the deck of the yacht. The winchman decided to take the helmsman, Veronica and the other two seasick women up to the aircraft. ‘I was just relieved at the idea of getting off the boat,’ says Veronica, who was whisked off to hospital.

By now, the yacht’s skipper had managed to restart the engine in the relative shelter, but the yacht was moving slowly in the shallow waters. The Dover crew managed to get close enough to pass a tow, which Garry secured firmly, and the yacht was pulled towards Ramsgate. The worst was over. ‘That was when we tried to make a cup of tea,’ recalls Garry. ‘But the matches were too wet and we couldn’t light the stove!’

Battling through more storm force winds and rain squalls, the three crews reached the shelter of Ramsgate Harbour around midday. Stepping aboard dry land for the first time in hours, they made their way to Ramsgate Lifeboat Station, where the local RNLI volunteers had hot drinks and a huge order of fish and chips waiting. ‘The best I’ve ever tasted,’ smiles Garry. The Dover and Dungeness volunteers said their goodbyes to the grateful yacht crew and headed back into the storm, back to their stations. By the time Garry and his crewmates reached Dungeness, they had been away for nearly 12 hours. Patrick still made it to the London Boat Show.

‘I went straight to the RNLI stand because I wanted to give them more support. I knew the job they do. I had seen it with my own eyes.’ They are sentiments echoed by Veronica, who was discharged after an overnight stay in hospital. ‘Garry was supremely brave. There’s no doubt we wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for Garry and the RNLI as a whole.’

You can see the story unfold with actual rescue footage and interviews with crew and survivors at rnli.org.uk/dungeness2012