On our overnight passage in the Atlantic Ocean transiting from the Abacos Islands in the northern most part of the Bahamas southward to the Exumas, we took turns at the helm (steering) while the other person napped or just relaxed. The person at the helm has the responsibility for watching out for other ships, keeping the boat on course, trimming sails, checking on equipment periodically and answering and initiating calls on the radio when needed. Earlier in the night I had called an unknown ship approaching our stern which looked like it might run right into us (you can estimate their course from the pattern of their navigation lights). After a short conversation, they changed course and all was well.
Later Mary Beth was at the helm and I was napping in the cockpit. We’d been at sea in the dark for about 8 or 9 hours at this point so we were both pretty tired. Although you can rest, there is little real sleep on an overnight passage with a crew of two. I heard her hailing a ship on the radio and partially woke up. The officer on the other boat had a very thick Asian accent, and the VHF radio has a lot of hiss and other background noise, so it is sometimes particularly hard to understand people for whom English is a second language. It emerged from the conversation that his ship was over 1000 ft in length and we were directly in their path. I thought: “That cannot be right. This is a cruising area. Maybe he meant 100 ft.” Then I heard her talking to a cruise ship. I thought: “what arrogant amateur boater calls their vessel a cruise ship”. Then I heard her hailing another ship who’s captain had a very thick accent. I am finally awake enough to sit up and look ahead. Holy crap! We’re facing an armada! There are huge boats everywhere. If we adjust course to avoid one we are right in the path of another. Plus we are sailing in light wind and cannot maneuver easily and our engine conked out once again earlier in our passage. I grab the binoculars and take a look. The smallest of the lot is a full size cruise ship with all their lights on. The 1000+ footer fills the view of the binoculars. The others are all large freighters.
Mary Beth remains calm (that makes one of us). She starts talking to the various captains - all of whom have English as a second (maybe third or fourth) language, but a woman in need seems to transcend language and culture. The captains are talking to each other and checking in with her. One turns a bit to their starboard side, another a bit to their port side, a third slows a little. Gradually as we look at the AIS display (shows us other ships if they transmit on AIS which large commercial ships are required to do), a path begins to open up without us having to change course. One is passing ahead, another steering to pass behind, etc. In no time, these seasoned captains of the high seas are keeping MB up to date on their plans and checking that she agrees before each change in speed and course. Once the tension eased, it was quite amusing to see all these huge ships with seasoned captains changing on our behalf to meet the needs of our diminutive captain. One of the Captains radioed “Regina Maris, this is sure your night. We are all taking care of you!”
It was a tense time, but soon the way was clear and we carried on. The only problem was she said: “Now that you’re awake why don’t you take the helm so I can rest.” After the last few tense minutes, what could I say but: “Aye aye captain!”
Below is a typical AIS screen shot that shows all of the boats nearby and the direction they are traveling, speed, etc.
