 | |  | |  | |  |
| Start of the race |
Sailing and Racing in the Grenadines
Oxford Yacht Club, Oxford MD.
Debbie Leisure on ‘Illusions’ has had experience with adversity. In Carriacou last August her
husband John died aboard, her mate for 20 years. Then Hurricane Ivan came, and into the
mangroves for a rocking and rolling time. She’s been living aboard and loving it since then,
knowing that her hearty little Island Packet, the source of her passion, in Carriacou it can be
the source of her destruction.
It’s all about good friends here; from Jerry, Roy, Susan and Gus at Carriacou Haul Out to
every cruiser that’s stayed, the likes of John Smith on ‘Mermaid of Carriacou’, the Linton Riggs
built vessel, (the man we were here to honor in the regatta he created 40 years ago), to Paul
Johnson, the storied yacht builder on ‘Cherub’.
So when the news of Hurricane Emily reached the small island, everyone knew the drill, or
should have. The boat yard was scrambling to care for it’s charges, many on the hook that had
to go to the mangroves, everyone went in, like ants following a bread crumb trail, lining up
abeam in both ponds.
Debbie’s friend Howard on ‘Serendipity’ was different though. An experienced livaboard on his
trawler, he had tea with her on Sunday, and it was so hard to not see he had issues. Both legs
are disabled from polio, useless. He was alone, but so was she. He was proud and a man,
maybe that was the issue. When the friends all started to head for the security of the trees that
bind the boats to earth so this now Category 1 hurricane would not send them airborne,
Howard stayed in the mooring field, aboard and alone.
Everyone cleared out, Emily’s wrath was on course for little Carriacou. Homes were flattened,
power was out for weeks afterward, no food, or any public services. Though before she hit,
there were mixed weather messages from a downgraded tropical storm to Category 2.
Everyone was anxious and fearful, and Howard was alone and exposed.
At 0200 it came, “Mayday, Mayday”, ‘Serendipity’ was sinking and Howard was attempting to
get into his dink on the fly deck as the water rose to it, his disability preventing him from
boarding any other way. He had started dragging, fired the engines up with the 2 new screws
just 3 weeks old, snagging mooring lines the stern when down, the aft cabin ports blow out as
she’s getting pooped and heading to the bottom.
90-110knots of wind blow him to sea. The friends in the mangroves and ashore cry when they
here the mayday, knowing they can do nothing but pray. That morning, Debbie speaks to his
family in Florida. They are on the way to Carriacou, but with no positive thoughts but those
Debbie was able to give, “ his last words were ‘ I’m putting on my vest and getting into my
dinghy’, she said to them he sounded strong, confident and calm. It was true but still the
friends and family cried.
Howard was blown to sea, 30 miles NW of Union for 12 hours. His terror is his own hell, 7 times
being pitched out of the dink, righting it and getting back in, rolling again. His ditch bag was
now 20 miles away, lost early in his nightmare, sending an EPIRB signal, but far off he was
fighting for his life. The seas settled enough for a freighter hunkered down in Bequia enroute
to Trini to get underway. Howard seized the moment, his outboard cover had reflective tape
attached and on an oar tip he swung it around, waving frantically, he was spotted, and the
friends and family’s prayers were answered, and they all cried together.
A one eyed man is king in a world on blind men; Howard is a king among his peers.
 | |  | |  |
