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Family Emergency
Hits Home
5/05/02
Blaine Parks
I
stood there holding Janet in my arms, trying to be strong for her outside
a phone booth in George Town, Exuma. I didn’t know what to say.
There really wasn’t anything I could say to comfort her, so I
just held her close as she sobbed uncontrollably in my arms. Most passersby would think we were in the midst of a
break-up, but this was much worse.
We’d called home after receiving an urgent email and heard the
words that every cruiser fears. Janet’s
father, Al Charbonneau, had taken ill over the Easter weekend and passed
away early Monday morning. His
passing was difficult enough, but not being there with him in his final
moments or being able to say, “I love you”, one last time was almost
unbearable.
We had just returned to George Town the day before to prepare for a visit
from Janet’s brother and sister-in-law.
I remember racing into town on Easter Sunday to check for messages
from them. We were so excited
to have them aboard again. Our
excitement quickly turned to dread. Instead
of an email from her brother, there was a note from Janet’s sister
asking her to call home quickly. Her
dad had been taken to the hospital the day before for a racing heartbeat,
but was currently in stable condition. When we reached the family back in North Carolina that Sunday
evening, we heard some heartening news; Al wasn’t anywhere near ‘out
of the woods’, but his condition had improved slightly and further
treatment was pending the results of more tests scheduled for Monday
morning. The dinghy ride back to the boat was quiet that
night. We planned to call back on Monday and talk with Al at the hospital.
We never got the chance.
The next 24 hours were a blur of activity.
Fortunately, were back in George Town where travel out of the
country could be easily arranged. American Airlines was gracious enough to find a seat on
the small plane leaving George Town the next afternoon; they gave us their
lowest fare, with no penalties for changes or cancellations. We then called some of our cruising friends, via single-side
band radio, who were slightly north of us.
I would have to stay behind with the dogs and needed help getting
them to shore; a strong weather front was expected to hit us in the
following days making it difficult to get the dogs on and off the boat.
My staying behind would also ease Janet's mind from worrying about the
dogs or the boat. We had no sooner told them our situation before ‘Milady’ was
hauling in her anchor and motor-sailing the 10 hours to reach us.
Janet rushed to get packed on Tuesday morning and we got to town
just in time to catch her taxi. With
a few tears, a hug, and a kiss, Janet headed for the airport.
It was ironic that she flew home on the same plane that would have
brought her brother and sister-in-law to visit. We didn’t know when, or if, she’d be returning to George Town.
Janet was a little nervous about flying again because neither of us had
flown since the events of September 11, 2001.
She tried not to pack anything that would be construed as a weapon,
but really had no idea what the new security procedures would be like.
We were thinking clearly enough to be sure that she had a copy of
our Bahamas cruising permit with her.
Without a copy, she would be forced to purchase a return ticket
from the Bahamas before returning to the boat and then cash it in for a
refund upon arrival (and presenting her valid cruising permit).
What we didn’t realize at the time was that we would need to send
a copy of our cruising permit and a letter from the captain (me) to anyone
flying in to help move the boat. At
the time, there was a strong possibility that I would be moving the boat
back to North Carolina by myself. Luckily,
that possibility never materialized.
With Janet on her way back to North Carolina, I had time to sort out my
feelings. I was being pulled
in several directions at once. I
felt my place was in a seat next to her on that plane, but with our two
dogs and a storm brewing, I needed to be with the boat. During a storm, its difficult enough minding your own boat.
Asking our friends to take care of our boat and dogs in those
conditions was out of the question. So, I spent the first few days feeling guilty about not being
with Janet and her family. But
her absence gave me time to reflect on our decision to go cruising early,
the effects of not being close to home when something like this happens,
and to grieve for the loss of a great man.
These were hard times.
We had been devastated thinking that we might have been somewhere more
remote when Al passed away, unable to either get the message or get home
in time. How would the family
have viewed our cruising life then?
It was more frustrating to find out that our emergency contact
procedure had failed. While
in the Bahamas, we asked our family to contact BASRA (Bahamas Air and Sea
Rescue Association) in the event of an emergency.
We knew that BASRA had intervened on several other occasions to
assist in finding boaters with emergency traffic.
In our case, it never happened.
Janet’s family left a message and then later spoke directly with
BASRA representatives that Monday morning.
Even with assurances that they’d put out a message, one never
came. While at home, Janet
found a volunteer HAM operators group, called Boat Watch (http://www.boatwatch.com)
that assists in locating boaters throughout the world by tapping into
other radio networks around the globe.
We’ll contact them for future emergencies.
But, that information came a little too late this time.
I felt like we had let the family down and began to question our decision
to go cruising. However,
Janet gave me some reassuring news during our first phone call.
Her mom told her how Al had spent his last day at home looking
through a package of material from Island Packet on their new 50’ yacht
and reading the latest issue of Fido
Friendly, where our first of four
articles on sailing with dogs had appeared. We’ve had a deposit on this new boat, now called the Island
Packet 485, when it was only a concept and Al thought the final plans
looked great. He was
also delighted to see our article and the photos of Max and Bailey in
print. Maybe cruising was the
right choice.
Al was always one of our biggest supporters and enjoyed catching up on our
latest adventures. His final
days reminded us of that even more. His first words during every phone call were, ‘so, did you
have the winds to sail or did you have to motor?’
It was sort of an inside joke from when he helped us deliver
‘Charbonneau’ on her maiden sail from Rock Hall, MD to her slip in
North Carolina. The entire
week of that trip was filled with mostly windless days and temperatures
over 100 degrees. On the few
times we could sail, Al truly loved it – a breeze blowing through his
hair and a big smile on his face.
At 77, Al Charbonneau lived a very full and rewarding life.
He was a decorated veteran of WWII where he served in the United
States Navy aboard several ships and aboard a flagship during the invasion
of Normandy. He was a man
with many talents who seemed to possess the skills to do anything.
He built homes, made furniture for his church, and tended a yard
that made others pale in comparison.
He was also a founding member and first mayor of their village,
Walnut Creek. In his spare
time he was a gifted artist, leaving the family with a hundred or more
paintings as a symbol of his work. But
more importantly, he was a charitable man, a good husband, and a loving
father to his five children.
While losing him has been extremely hard on us, remembering all the good
he brought to our lives will be easy. The name of our boat, ‘Charbonneau’, seems even more
poignant with his passing. We know
that Al
loved to hear about our travels. He
crewed with us on Charbonneau’s maiden voyage and we believe he’s
aboard again in his final voyage, keeping a close watch on us as we cross
the oceans.
Epilogue:
Not being home during this time of crisis was
difficult to take, but we don’t think anyone would want us hanging
around close to home waiting for those crisis situations to arise. What did come out of this was a redoubling of efforts to
provide our family with ways to reach us in an emergency. We’ve given them the new information on how to begin a
radio ‘boat watch’ for us and are strongly considering the inclusion
of a satellite phone or email system aboard our boat.
Cruising isn’t always easy, especially when something like this
happens. We recommend taking
some time now, or before leaving, to develop methods to stay in touch with
family and be prepared to travel home if the need arises.
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