ONE OF THE GREATEST sea-rescue
stories ever told must surely be that of Pete Goss, a former British Royal
Marine. He rescued a Frenchman, a fellow singlehanded competitor in the 1996
Vendée Globe race around the world. He exhibited such heroism and determination
that he was given France’s highest award for gallantry, the Legion d’Honneur.
Queen Elizabeth awarded him the Medal of the British Empire, and he was elected
Yachtsman of the Year.
The man he rescued was Raphael
Dinelli, whose boat sank in a storm more than a thousand miles south of
Fremantle, Australia, far down in the frigid Southern Ocean. Goss, who happened
to be 160 miles ahead of him, was asked by the race organizers if he could go
back and pick up Dinelli from a life raft dropped to him by the Royal
Australian Air Force (RAAF).
Goss, at the time, was dead downwind,
and that wind was blowing over 60 knots. Every half hour or so, Goss’s boat was
knocked flat in the water by breaking swells estimated to be about 60 feet
high. He was himself fighting to stay alive. But he knew what he had to do.
Under storm sails he beat back slowly in atrocious conditions, and with the
help of the RAAF, he located Dinelli, who was suffering so much from exposure
that he accepted he was probably going to die. “But he never gave up,” said
Goss, in his fascinating book, Close to
the Wind. “He kept pushing death before him, day by day, hour by hour,
minute by minute.”
Anyone who has been to sea in a sailboat
in conditions even half as bad as these will appreciate the difficulty of
finding anything as small as a liferaft and then of transferring its occupant
onto a boat under sail only. Displaying superb seamanship, Goss luffed up
alongside the raft. “I ran forward and threw off the headsail halyard,” said
Goss. “Raphael gripped the grabline. Got him!”
They both heaved, and Dinelli was on
deck. He lay face down and tried to move, but he was too stiff and cold. “It
was hardly surprising— he had spent two days waiting for me to rescue him. I
gently turned him over to reveal a nose and two very inflamed eyes surrounded
by thick, yellowish wax. A feeble ‘Thank you’ could be heard from inside the immersion
suit. All I could see was his eyes and I shall never forget them . . . I dragged him back to the cockpit by his
ankles; his feet were agonizingly painful because of the cold, and he couldn’t
walk. We worked together to get him under the cockpit overhang.
“It took five minutes to undress
him. His hands and feet were in the worst condition: cold, colorless and
useless. Skin came away on contact and I wondered if there would be long-term
damage. The next step was to get him below through the small hatch, which was
difficult to negotiate at the best of times. He was very stiff—it was as though
rigor mortis was setting in, and it took a couple of attempts before he tumbled through. Now he was below
in my cramped, wet little hell hole.
“ I put a dry set of thermals on
him, pulled a woolly hat over his head and eased him into my best sleeping bag.
He couldn’t straighten out so I propped
him in a sitting position against my kitbag and put a support under his knees.
“Every movement was slow and painful
for him . . . I made a very sweet cup of tea in a cyclist’s drinking bottle; I
had it on board for just such an occasion as it has a nipple on the top and you
can’t spill the contents. I helped Raphael slowly and painfully wrap his frozen
hands round it. He took a sip and a look of pleasure lit up a face haggard
beyond its 28 years. He told me later that it was as though he had landed in
England.”
Goss gradually nursed Dinelli back
to health during the 12 days or so it took them to sail back to Australia. Goss
was given a time allowance, and rejoined the race. He wasn’t the winner, but he
became the public sensation of the race. About 150,000 people were lined up in
France when he arrived, cheering for their new hero.
Ø Close
to the Wind: An Extraordinary Story of Triumph Over Adversity, by Peter Goss
(New York, 1999; Carrol & Graf Publishers).
Today’s
Thought
The
real hero is always a hero by mistake: he dreams of being an honest coward like
everybody else.
— Umberto Eco, Travels in Hyper Reality
Tailpiece
“Waiter, there’s a fly in my soup.”
“I’m
afraid I’ll have to ask you to leave, sir. Pets are not allowed in the dining
room.”
(Drop by every Monday, Wednesday,
Friday for a new Mainly about Boats column.)
6 comments:
Wow! what an excerpt - you have convinced me to purchase the book!
There is a famous photograph of a sailor standing on his upturned hull in the Southern Ocean - I think he is hanging onto the rudder skeg? There isn't very much of the hull to stand on - I wonder if this is Dinelli? Must Google the photo.
Beating back into the face of those wind and waves is an amazing feat - and testament to the strength of his boat
Googled Raphael Dinelli - the boat is the right way up and he is standing on top of the small cabin trunk holding onto what may be part of the boom vang. Man alive, but was he lucky or what!
Alden: The book is a real page-turner. Very well written. You won't be disappointed. But, as you have seen, his boat sank the right way up. The mast went overboard and punched holes through the hull.
John V.
For a good look at this modest hero, go to
https://vimeo.com/30517438
John V.
Thank you very much for this link - I watched the video - what an amazing man - very courageous, determined but in a laid back kind of way.
There is another excellent account of this in Derek Lundy's "Godforsaken sea". Truly inspiring.
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