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Diane and Stephen Klutz aboard the
ill-fated Martini Alley.
generator cut out, surrounding us in “Okay,” I said to myself. “If this is the swimming close to both boats. Though
darkness. The winds increased. All was worse that’s going to happen, then we the fins probably belonged to dolphins,
not well. will be fine.” with our luck we were taking nothing for
granted.
While Stephen inspected the hull, I The radio cut off, leaving one emergency
radioed the Coast Guard to alert passing channel. We had cell reception but with Alerted, the diver scrambled from the
vessels of our location in the sand. The no power to recharge. The boat continued water, avoiding the fins but not the
Coast Guard instructed everyone aboard to rock violently. This was it, I thought. Portuguese Man of War. Stephen offered
to don a life jacket, including the dogs. We were going to drown in four lousy feet to pee on the diver’s sting, but for some
The water around us was four feet deep. of water. odd reason he declined.
“Good news,” Ron declared – he’d managed Around midnight, the Coast Guard When things couldn’t get worse,
to reach a towing service. The bad news? It arrived. A medic evaluated Judy while seasickness gripped Stephen just as the
would take a minimum of three hours to a crewman evaluated our boat. The bilge electrical switch to retract the anchor
reach us. Judy had now entered full panic water was down to six inches, there was failed. Pulling the anchor up by hand
mode. Hyperventilating and nauseous, no visible breach and Judy was breathing was difficult enough, but with its chain
she dry-heaved while clutching her life normally. Things were definitely looking covered in channel-bottom slime, the
jacket’s safety ring. With every radio better. metal links slid through one’s hands like
attempt, Judy grabbed at the microphone, a snake covered with snot.
yelling, “THERE’S A SICK WOMAN ON The crew stayed with us until 3 a.m.,
BOARD!” monitoring the water in the bilge and Expletives and gastric contents
waiting for the towing service to free alternatingly spewed from Stephen’s
A deafening alarm clanged from the Martini Alley from the sandy bottom. mouth. Like Ahab and Moby Dick, it was
bowels of the boat, and Ron threw open After giving detailed instructions to us now him or the boat. Gathering all his
the hatch. A foot of water splashed in and the tow crew, the Coast Guard left strength, he pulled. Five minutes later the
the bilge. I radioed the Coast Guard, to bring Ron and Judy to shore. anchor, chain and Stephen lay on the deck.
concluding the update with “We’re on a
sand bar, so there’s no problem. Right?” The tow boat successfully pulled us to We had been awake over 30 hours. Tired,
deep water, allowing their diver to free cranky, grimy, sweaty, stinky and in
“Negative,” replied the operator. “If the our propeller from the buoy – but not, desperate need of a bathroom, we climbed
water in the bilge gets any deeper, the unfortunately, from the chain. Martini off at the ship yard, vowing never to step
boat will lose battery power. If there is Alley would have to be pulled to the dock on the deck of Martini Alley ever again.
a breach in the hull, well—when you get yard along with 450 pounds of cement Just sell the damn thing. Never look back.
pulled off the sand bar the boat could take chained to its back end.
on lots of water and could sink. We are And that’s it—well, almost.
on our way.” The diver had not yet finished when
the captain noticed fins in the water, J U LY 2 0 1 6 SUNRAYS | 85
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