All hell was breaking loose on that pitch black stormy night as we were sailing out of Tonga!  The wind was blowing 40 kts out of the southeast.  My husband Rich was in the cockpit,  adjusting the sails.  I was in the nav station as usual, talking on the radio to another sailboat named Juana Lucina.  3 of us boats were sailing overnight  from the Hapai group to Nuku’Alofa, Tonga. 

Suddenly Rich yelled, “Look at the depth!”.  I saw 8 feet. Then crrruuuunch… 

We hit something so hard and unexpectedly. The waves were huge and the force picked us up and dropped us down hard on our side.  There was a terrible crunching sound, followed by a long dragging rumble. 

“Juana Lucina, Juana Lucina,  This is Woodstock!” I cried on the radio.  ”  We just hit something!” 
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“Pepper, hang on,” she said. “Let me figure out where you are.  What is your LAT/Long?” 

Just then the sea picked us up and dropped us down hard on the starboard side. 

“Pepper you are just north of a reef, according to our chart.  If you can turn the boat north, you can get off.” 

Rich turned on the engine.  There was a horrible grinding noise coming from the engine room.  The boat would not move. 

I looked outside, but couldn’t see anything.  Not even with a spotlight.  It was pouring down rain. 

Rich crawled forward on the deck and lowered the mainsail.

The next thing I thought of was my cat.  I grabbed Mercedes and pushed her into her carrier.  I wedged her in tight next to the nav station. 

Rich grabbed the life vests and flares . I was talking on the radio, crying out for help, getting thrown from one end of the boat to the other.  Rich was in the cockpit trying to control the boat.  When a wave picked us up, he would turn the wheel away from the reef, with full power, we couldn’t move an inch.  The shaft must have been damaged.  He kept trying anyway. 

I called New Zealand Radio, Tonga Radio, and Kept calling on Channel 16 for help. 

Tonga Radio announced that they could not launch a rescue without official permission.  Since it was a Saturday night in Tonga, officials could not be found.  I threw up my hands. 

Just then I heard my cat crying.  I looked down and saw water coming in from behind the freezer.  Mercedes was soaked.  Poor Kitty.  I put the carrier up into the cockpit. 

I grabbed the bilge pump handle and started pumping, it was no use, the water was coming in faster than i could pump. 
 

“Mayday, Mayday!” I cried to anyone who would listen.  I thought about land, a tiny island to the east if we could find it in the dark but didn’t think we had enough fuel in the dingy. 

Another Cruising yacht 10 miles away called me on channel 16.  He told me that another boat relayed from another 20 miles away that they saw a Navy Vessel tied up at the dock, and they were going over in a dingy to wake them up. 

Juana Lucina heaved to.  So did Brisa Del Mar.  Thank God For Nikki on Juana Lucina.  She helped me so much. She kept talking to me.  Her husband Bill was helping too, by telling us what to do, cause it was so hard to think. 

“God, I want out of here!” I prayed out loud. The boat kept rising and falling, scraping the reef and tossing us from left to right.  Rich came downstairs.   We just hung on.

After 4 hours of bashing on the reef,  high tide came in.  Suddenly, a huge wave picked us up and we came straight down the back side of it and started to float away.  I couldn’t believe it. The depth sounder said 12 feet, 18 feet, 23 feet.

“Juana Lucina, this is Woodstock,” I called on the VHF.  “We are off the reef and there is water coming in!” 

“Drop the Anchor”  she said.  “You don’t want to drift into deep water if you are sinking!” 

I ran forward and dropped the anchor and  it hung up.  Of course,  I forgot to release the clutch.  Richard came up  behind me and redid it. We anchored in 28 feet of water. 

I went back into the nav station. There was water everywhere.  Floor board starting to float. It was weird.  They were floating right over the spot where they should be.   I looked into the bilge and it was overflowing. 

“Rich!”  I yelled up to the cockpit.  “We are sinking! Launch the dingy!”  Rich bravely launched the dingy into the raging water.  He even managed to get the outboard launched. 

Juana Lucina called out to us.  “Tie a long line to the dingy and stay with the boat.”   While Rich organized the lines,  I started throwing things into a plastic bag.  Passports, money, computer, binoculars, epirb, flares, etc.  So many times I had rehearsed this in my mind.  Why hadn’t I packed the emergency bag long ago?  I threw in rum, water, granola, fishing knife snorkel masks.  what else should I take? 

“Nikki, listen to this” I called. I placed the microphone next to the floating floorboards.  “This is the sound of a yacht sinking!” I said hysterically. Water gurgled on the radio.

“What else shall I take?  You want a movie?” 
“Oh Pepper” she moaned.  “Get out of that boat.”  I reached blindly into the video cabinet and grabbed a movie which turned out to be of all things, Captain Ron!

I got into the dingy and rich passed me the cat first.  meow meow meow, she cried. 

Rich let out a long line and we floated away from the boat in the moonlight.  moonlight?  the moon was rising   and we would see for the first time the breaking seas on the reef.  Wow!  huge waves smashing on the reef  just 50 yards away. 

“Got a light” he asked, fishing out a cigarette.
“I thought you had the lighter”, I grumbled.

We pulled ourselves back up to the yacht and I scrambled up to get the lighter, remembering I forgot the cat’s import papers for New Zealand.  I went back down and called Taupo Radio in New Zealand and thanked her for her help.  The navy called and said they were coming.  By now the water was up to my hips.  I got out of there in a hurry.

As we were bobbing up and down the huge waves in the dingy, we kept thinking of things we’d forgotten.  But Rich said the propane alarm was on and the electricity was dangerous, with all that water, it wasn’t safe to go back. 

In a way, it was kind of romantic, laying there in the dingy,  just watching all of our dreams sink into the sea. 

“Well,” I said, “That’s one way to get rid of the ants.”

2 1/2 hours later we saw lights in the distance 

The Tonga Navy rescued us at 4:05am October 31.