Day 2: What this was.

Leaving on a sailing passage means that, it is not a matter of "if" something will happen, but a matter of "when".

Unfortunately, Ryan did not have much time to land in a routine after his departure before things took a turn.

At 5PM his time yesterday, Ryan gave me a satphone call to announce that he was going to make a sharp turn to port, and to tell me not to worry and that everything was OK.

A few moments prior, the Spanish Coast-Guards had contacted him to ask him to go confirm a migrant raft sighting four nautical miles away from his position.

Ryan happened to be the closest vessel to the position, and passing tanker ships wouldn't answer radio calls.

The conditions weren't favorable for such a change of course, and Ryan found himself bashing upwind in steep waves to reach the location.

Less than an hour later, Ryan had next to him a rubber boat with no engine and 30 to 40 persons on board.

Quickly thereafter, a Spanish rescue helicopter was on the spot, on its way back from another rescue mission. Unfortunately, the helicopter was getting out of fuel and had to leave the scene.

A rescue ship got on its way, but it would be hours before the ship or the helicopter would be on the spot again, and Ryan was asked by the coast guards to maintain visual contact with the raft, without actually "making contact" with any of the people on board.

For hours as it got dark, Ryan stayed near the raft as the conditions at sea worsened, and the day turned to night.

At 8:30PM, Ryan called me on the satphone, crying. On top of being horrified by what he was witnessing, he had just taken big waves in the cockpit that trashed literally everything, including our six years old logbook and the camera I had given him.

He was very emotional and fatigued when he asked me to coordinate with the Las Palmas rescue center and ask how long he needed to stay at the position.

I was on the phone with Las Palmas within five minutes, and they knew exactly who we were. Unfortunately, it wouldn't be another hour and a half before the helicopter would return after refueling, and Las Palmas asked us to maintain Polar Seal's position.

The steep waves made it difficult for Ryan to maintain visual contact and forced to stay in the cockpit in harsh conditions, he got really tired, really quickly.

In the dark, Ryan realized that there were in fact several of those rafts. A few hours later, a lot of fatigue, fear and tears, Ryan could turn the boat again and continue his route.

We have friends a couple of dozen of nautical miles away from him on the same route, and they are currently trying to meet up. A big shout out to Vince and Kim on Heron, who answered my satphone call at midnight notifying them of Ryan's experience and state. They may not get in range, but I know for a fact that Ryan appreciates their presence around.

There is a whole lot more to the story, but I'll leave it at that for today.

Here are Ryan's own words about his experience of the situation:

Sometimes we forget how good most of us have it. I’m here on a boat that I bought and crossing oceans all for fun, while there are others who get in boats hoping to get away from something and will risk everything for it.

In Spain the migrant crisis is real. During all the sailing we have done around Spain, we've always heard "pan pan" VHF calls for rubber rafts with 50 people.

Today was no different. However, at 1730, I received a radio call from the Spanish rescue center asking if I could alter course 4 miles to see if I saw a raft.

The tradition of the high seas dictates I do this (I would want someone to do it for me). So I turned and less than an hour later my eyes were on 30 to 40 people in a tiny raft in the middle of the ocean.

I coordinated with the rescue center and a helicopter was already on its way… however the helo could only stay for 20min as they were out of fuel so they asked if I could say until they got back.

The seas are not big now but they are rough. I was circling for 3 hours, in the dark and shining flashlights on the raft. I’m sure they were trying to get to my boat but I kept my distance. Polar Seal would sink if those people got on board.

By the time the helicopter got back, I spotted no less than 3 or 4 other flashlights in the distance… rafts everywhere.

The rescue boat was on there way and I’m sure it would be a busy night.

The helicopter pilot told me when I was leaving that “those people would have died tonight without you staying there”. I’m crying as I write this, remembering what she said.

And as I turned to the southwest back on my course I remember the big differences we have in life. Be thankful for yours.

More to this story later.

I did not sleep a lot last night.